Birth of the Warriors
Chapter 1: The Day Begins
Missed the Prologue? No worries, find it here!
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Track: “Good Morning” by Kanye West. Thank you for reading.
Viperial City wakes like it always has—sunlight on steel, cafecito on corners, and no idea what’s coming. But deep inside the city, something stirs. And one by one, six lives are about to collide with the impossible.
The day begins.
The first light of morning spills over Viperial City like honey over glass—soft, golden, and slow to stir the sprawling skyline. Birds chirp in rhythm with the heartbeat of a city that wakes without warning of what’s coming.
In every district, life unfolds on schedule. Food carts steamed near intersections, hawking tamales, breakfast skewers, and cafecito to lines of commuters. Joggers in branded activewear pace down tree-lined sidewalks while scooters zip past city buses painted with ads for energy tech and bio-wearables.
Children in school uniforms cross intersections in sleepy clusters, yawning, laughing, backpacks bouncing. In the far sky, a drone skimmer floated past, dragging a massive LED banner that read:
THE FUTURE BEGINS TONIGHT. THE VIPERIAL EXPO. 7 PM.
Digital boards atop corporate towers echo the same message. PRIME’s official insignia—a steel-gray pentagon stamped with a globe at its center, each corner marked with a bold letter of its name—glows above it all. Radios across the city, from taxi cabs to bedroom speakers, synced in chorus:
“Good morning, Viperial! It’s a beautiful Friday—October 10th, 2014. The weather’s sitting pretty at seventy-three degrees and rising. Big night ahead with the highly anticipated Viperial Expo unveiling at 7 PM!”
Towering at the city’s heart was the sleek, obsidian monument of PRIME Headquarters—its black glass surface reflecting the sun like a blade. Beside it, the domed Expo pavilion hummed with activity, surrounded by security personnel, media vans, and mobile stage rigs.
Inside, engineers, speakers, and organizers race against the clock. The centerpiece beneath the dome, a curved chamber wrapped in chrome and copper lines, sits dormant.
A day like any other.
For now.
PRIME HQ – Scientific Wing
The lab thrums with tension. Scientists, physicists, and engineers hustle between stations—fine-tuning conversion algorithms and running diagnostics, preparing for the Expo that could change the world.
“Energy levels spiked again!”
“We’ll fry the core if we push this much power!"
Stabilizer lights flash yellow. Warning tones chirp in discord. Beneath the grating, the floor hums with pressure.
Valerie Francis stands at the helm—authoritative, unshaken. She slams her tablet down onto a desk.
“It’s already been damn near 30 years, and we still can’t harness this shit! If the particle accelerator isn’t ready by 7 PM, it’s over!”
All eyes shift. They know what’s at stake. They’re trying to present a renewable energy engine to the world, powered by a mysterious element PRIME claims they discovered off the coast of California: Luxigen.
It pulses in the chamber like molten light—orange and alive. Monitors warn of fluctuating stability. The weight of legacy, global expectation, and scientific uncertainty hangs in the air like a storm waiting to break.
UC Viperial – Destiny Castillo Track & Field
The rising sun gives the track a shimmering glow, casting golden waves across the red rubber lanes. A runner in a slingshot tee and blue running shorts powers down Lane 4. His shirt clings to him, soaked in sweat. His form is sharp. He times his breathing perfectly. He’s not just fast—he’s honed. He rounds the curve with violent precision, arms pumping harder as he accelerates into the straightaway—this is the final stretch. He flies through the end, then slows, hands resting on his head, lungs expanding like bellows. The track is quiet now—but not for long.
Two men lie sprawled out in the infield grass, hyperventilating, drenched in sweat. One of them groans.
“Wilmer, Riley, come on. This is embarrassing,” the runner says, laughing as he walks towards them. “How are we supposed to play against Cal-State Viperial tonight if we’re all out of shape?”
Riley glares up, still catching his breath. “James. How are you not tired?! I thought we were only supposed to run four 1600s.”
“Yeah, man. Why’d you do extra?” Wilmer pants.
James picks up his water bottle, takes a swig, and spits it out onto the turf. He smirks.
“Because I wanted to. What’s wrong with that?”
Wilmer props himself up on his elbows. “What’s wrong is you ran five 16s fast as hell. What was your pace?”
James glances at his watch and lets out a low chuckle. “Little under 3:50 each time.”
“Showoff,” Riley mutters. “Help us up. We’re going to be late for class.”
James hauls them up, and the three walk off as students begin pouring in around campus. A digital clock over the gym reads 8:57 AM. The morning’s just begun.
Wilmer scoffs, “Man, I really hate my Mathematical Physics class. My professor sucks. He’s so damn boring. He starts each class playing his ukulele, which I have to say he is terrible at. And then goes straight into talking about Newtonian mechanics, like, dude! No one is going to be interested in Newtonian mechanics because A, it sucks. And B, your horrible singing ruined everybody’s day! Ugh, I wanna withdraw from this class so bad!”
James winces, “So why don’t you?”
Wilmer kicks a rock in front of him, “Because. This is the last physics class I need in order to obtain my degree, and all my friends say he’s the better choice out of the other physics professors.” He rolls his eyes.
Riley pats his shoulder, “You know. Vela isn’t that bad. I took him last year, passed with an A. You just gotta get past the singing; it’s easy once you figure that out.” He clicks his tongue, “Speaking of, I’m surprised he’s not taking you guys to the Expo.”
James’ face goes cold. His stride falters as soon as he hears “Expo.” Wilmer notices, “Dude! Shh.”
Riley pans past Wilmer to scan James’ face. He sees what he did. “Oh shit, dude. My bad, man. I-I didn’t mean to mention the Expo. I thought it was PRIME that you didn’t like—“
“Riley! Shut the hell up!” Wilmer interrupts.
“It’s cool. Really,” James says with his head down, his hands in his pockets now. He pulls his phone out and checks the screen for the date. “It’s her birthday today, actually. I was going to see her at Oakwood Memorial…before the scrimmage.”
His watch begins to beep. “Damn. I’m late.” He races across campus without hesitation.
Watching, Riley says, “That guy is going to be special someday.”
Wilmer nudges him, “Yeah—If you’re not there to remind him his mom died every chance you get!”
“Come on, man, it was an accident.”
“Whatever. I’m heading to class. I’ll text you later to see if I’ll need a ride to the scrimmage. Later, idiot.”
Riley scoffs, “Later man…”
Ready for the next chapter in Birth of the Warriors? Jump into Chapter 2: Before the Break!