Guardians of Dying Earth

Chapter 2: The Burden of Survival

The world felt different now. Aryan was gone, and nothing would ever be the same. RagRocK's ears still rang with the echoes of his brother's final words: "Live!" They were a command, a plea, and a curse all at once. The basement was silent except for the quiet sobs of his mother, Meera, and the faint whimpers of his younger sister, Anya. Anand, his father, sat with his head bowed, staring blankly at the dirt floor, his shoulders trembling.

Above them, the sounds of the battle raged on. The screeching cries of the Vaekrans mingled with the thunder of gunfire and the desperate shouts of Protectors. Explosions rocked the house, sending dust and debris falling from the ceiling. The Protectors had arrived too late to save Aryan—but they were here now, fighting to reclaim what was left of the village.

Suddenly, the basement door creaked open, and beams of light cut through the darkness. A towering figure, clad in reinforced armor marked with the insignia of the Protectors, stepped inside. His voice was urgent but firm.

"Everyone, out now! We're evacuating survivors!"

RagRocK hesitated, his eyes darting toward the sounds of the battle. A part of him wanted to run upstairs, to pick up a weapon, to fight alongside the Protectors. But his father's hand gripped his arm firmly.

"Rag, no," Anand whispered. "Stay with us."

Reluctantly, RagRocK followed the Protector out of the basement, his family close behind. Outside, the village was unrecognizable. Homes lay in ruins, the fields were scorched, and the air was thick with the acrid stench of smoke and blood. Bodies—human and Vaekran alike—littered the streets.

The Protectors escorted them through the chaos, their weapons blazing as they fought off the remaining creatures. RagRocK caught glimpses of the battle—the monstrous forms of the Vaekrans, their glowing yellow eyes, and the ferocity of the Protectors who stood against them.

They reached a makeshift evacuation zone, where medical staff waited to treat the injured. As RagRocK was loaded into a transport vehicle, exhaustion overtook him. The last thing he saw before his vision blurred was the darkened horizon, glowing faintly with fire and destruction.

---

Twelve hours later, RagRocK woke with a jolt. The sterile white walls of the hospital room felt alien to him. Machines beeped softly around him, and a faint light filtered in through the window. For a moment, he forgot where he was. Then it all came rushing back—Aryan, the Vaekrans, the Protectors, the village in ruins.

He yanked at the wires and IVs attached to his arms, ignoring the sharp pain that followed.

"Sir, you need to rest—" a nurse began, rushing toward him.

"No," RagRocK said, his voice hoarse but resolute. "I need to see my family."

He stumbled into the hallway, his legs unsteady but fueled by desperation. The hospital was a flurry of activity, with doctors and nurses attending to the wounded. He pushed past them, his heart pounding, until he found his parents and Anya in a small room.

Meera sat on the edge of a hospital bed, cradling Anya, who was asleep in her arms. Her face was pale, her eyes hollow. Anand sat beside her, his hands trembling as he held a cup of water. The sight of them alive brought RagRocK a fleeting sense of relief, but it was quickly overshadowed by the weight of their grief and Aryan's absence.

"You're awake," Anand said quietly, his voice tinged with exhaustion. Meera looked up, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

"Thank God," she whispered.

RagRocK stepped closer, his throat tightening. "Are you… okay?"

Meera nodded weakly. "We're alive, Rag. That's all that matters."

But it wasn't enough.

In the hospital lounge, a television blared with breaking news. RagRocK's gaze was drawn to the screen, where a reporter recounted the events of the previous night.

"Last night's Vaekran attack in Uttarakhand left dozens dead and entire villages in ruins. The Protectors fought valiantly, but the cost was high. Of the ten Protectors deployed, only four survived. One lost both legs, and three others remain in critical condition. Authorities warn that more attacks may be imminent…"

The footage shifted to images of the battle—charred landscapes, alien carcasses, and the battered bodies of the fallen Protectors. RagRocK clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. Even the Protectors, with all their power, had barely survived.

Back in the room, he sat by the window, staring out at the distant city lights. His mind was a storm of emotions—grief, anger, and a deep sense of responsibility. Aryan was gone, and with him, the family's only source of income. His father was too broken to work, and his mother and sister depended on him now.

But it wasn't just about survival. It was about justice. Revenge.

He pulled a small bracelet from his pocket, Aryan's keepsake. The memory of his brother's sacrifice burned in his mind. He had to do something—something that mattered.

---

That night, RagRocK made his decision.

"I'm going to join the Protectors," he said, his voice steady.

Meera gasped. "No, Rag. You've seen what they do to Protectors. It's suicide!"

Anand placed a hand on RagRocK's shoulder, his expression somber. "Are you sure about this?"

RagRocK nodded. "I have to. For Aryan. For all of us."

Tears streamed down Meera's face as she clutched his arm. "Promise me, Rag. Promise me you'll come back to us."

"I promise," RagRocK said, though he wasn't sure he believed it himself. "And I'll make them pay for what they've done."

---

The chapter ends with RagRocK standing by the hospital window, staring at the horizon. The faint glow of Dome City Delta beckoned him, a symbol of hope and war. Clutching Aryan's bracelet tightly, he whispered to himself:

"I'll destroy every last one of them."

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This chapter balances emotional weight with action and sets the stage for RagRocK's transformation into a fighter and protector. It leaves readers eager to see how he will rise to the challenge.