When Alex was told they would be heading somewhere, his mind raced with the possibility of an eerie initiation ritual to transform him into a Paragon. He imagined dark, unfamiliar rites and unsettling ceremonies. The idea of being taken to such a place was unsettling, but what unfolded next was even more surprising.
To his shock, they ended up at a café. The thought of being dragged into a toilet, of all places, was beyond his wildest expectations.
At that moment, Alex found himself pulled into the toilet by strange, writhing water tentacles. They snaked around him, dragging him through a series of pipes. He was yanked from one pipeline to another, with no clear understanding of where he was or where he was going. The only certainty was that this journey was anything but calm.
After being jostled through the maze of pipes, Alex felt a final, powerful tug. Suddenly, he was thrown out into what appeared to be another restroom. Behind him, the toilet still had the tentacles extending from it, but they were no longer in contact with him or any part of the space around him.
Alex didn't pay much attention to his surroundings. He quickly yanked open the door and dashed out, heading straight for the sink at the side of the hall. When he reached it, he bent over and threw up the food he had eaten that day. His stomach heaved repeatedly as he expelled the contents, his frustration and discomfort clear.
"What the heck…" Alex muttered under his breath, his voice strained with annoyance and disgust.
At that moment, a sound from one of the restroom stalls caught his attention. It was the flush of a toilet, and soon after, the door swung open. Stan stepped out, a smile on his face.
"Looks like you made it through," Stan said, grinning.
"What?... What does that even mean?" Alex demanded, still shaken and annoyed by the ordeal.
"You know, in some rare cases, people get stuck in the lines," Stan said, his teasing smile widening.
Alex wanted to protest further, but Stan was already turning away, gesturing for him to follow. Alex, trying to calm down, took a moment to observe their surroundings.
As they stepped out of the restroom, they entered a long hallway lined with multiple doors. The hallway stretched out ahead, so long that it seemed to vanish into the distance.
Stan began walking down the hall, and Alex followed, still unsettled but curious.
"You must be wondering what we are doing here," Stan said, continuing to walk at a steady pace.
"You see, becoming a Paragon isn't as simple as just having the means. To become a Paragon, one needs a strong background. Either their family is a powerful Paragon family, or they have to join a faction," Stan explained.
Alex, trying to make sense of it all, asked, "What happens if someone becomes a Paragon without strong backing?"
"They usually end up dead, or their power is taken away from them. Alternatively, they're forced to join a faction. If you become one in secret and another Paragon discovers your power, they'll demand to know your backing," Stan replied, his tone serious.
Alex absorbed this information, the weight of it adding to his already intense confusion and unease.
"Does that mean I have to join a faction?" Alex asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
"Exactly," Stan replied. "But don't worry, I'm already in a faction, and I'm sure they'll be happy to have someone new join them."
As they spoke, Alex noticed that Stan was inviting him to join the faction without any apparent authority from the faction's leaders. This made Alex wonder about Stan's standing within the faction.
"Can I know more about this faction?" Alex asked, his curiosity piqued.
"Of course. Since you're a part of this faction now," Stan said with a reassuring nod.
"Wait… When did I agree to join your faction?" Alex questioned, his confusion growing.
"What do you think? The moment you step into our main base, you automatically become a member," Stan explained, stopping in front of a door. He reached out and opened it.
As the door swung open, Alex's eyes widened in shock at the sight before him. They had entered a large room that resembled a football field. The space was filled with an array of equipment, and people—both men and women—were scattered around, deeply engrossed in various activities.
The room was a training area, and the sight of all the equipment and the bustling activity left Alex stunned.
Alex observed the room with a mix of awe and apprehension. He saw several people sparring with each other. Their combat was so intense that it looked as if they were trying to kill each other.
They executed a wide range of moves, each aimed at vulnerable spots, making Alex shudder at the thought of coming out unscathed from such a fight.
But the scene was even more astonishing. In one corner, people were lifting weights that were anything but ordinary. Two individuals were even carrying a car on their backs while racing each other. Despite the massive weight of the car, Alex noticed they were incredibly fast—far beyond the capabilities of an average person.
Nearby, another person, built like a mountain, lay on the floor with his legs raised. He was lifting a truck with his legs, showing off his extraordinary strength. Others were engaged in a tug-of-war with a car, pulling it in the opposite direction of its movement. Some of them managed to hold their ground, pulling the car towards their side with impressive force.
"What you're seeing is the Dragon Roar faction," Stan said, breaking Alex's stunned silence. "This is the faction I belong to, and now, it's your faction too. We, the Dragon Roar faction, focus on helping society in our own way. Even though ordinary humans aren't supposed to know about Paragons, that doesn't mean we shouldn't help out."
Stan continued, "Most of the people you see here are orphans, outcasts, or individuals with serious illnesses that we managed to cure. In return, they decided to join us and support our cause. We train them in their specialties, and what you're seeing here are our low-class fighters."
"Did you just call these people low class?" Alex couldn't help but exclaim. The strength of the people he had seen in the training room was beyond what he would expect from any high-class special forces.
"You have no idea," Stan said as he walked out of the room, with Alex following closely behind.
"So far, you've told me about the good sides of this faction. Are there any bad sides?" Alex asked, wondering if a secretive organization like the Dragon Roar faction could really be all positive and no negatives.
"Yeah, of course, there are bad sides," Stan replied. "Our dark side is that we don't hesitate to kill when necessary. But trust me, we only do it when we believe it's for the greater good."
Stan stopped in front of another door and opened it, revealing yet another large space. This room had a marble floor and was nearly empty, with just a few people scattered around.
"Look who's here," said a man dressed in a black overcoat as he approached them. "Brother Stan, I never expected you to come down here."
Alex took a closer look at the man and noticed some similarities between him and Stan. They both had black hair and similar facial features, though the man's face looked slightly different. He was a bit shorter than Stan but still much taller than Alex.
"Cut the greetings. Where is Peter?" Stan asked, his tone firm.
"I'm Here..." came a voice from behind. Alex turned around and had to blink a few times to make sure he wasn't imagining things. Standing right behind them was a shorter version of Stan.