Rise, Lock of Legend

The debris pinned him like the world’s judgment. His lungs burned. Every bone screamed. Consciousness dangled by a thread.

Rokuro couldn’t move. Even the thought of doing so hurt.

If he stayed down, if he just… let it end here—

Suddenly memories flooded in his head like a massive current.

The mother he brushed off, the sister that annoyed him. The responsibilities he neglected time and again.

“You need to be more responsible, Roku.”

His mother’s voice filled his head. Her face, half disappointed half hopeful that he’d change. But… he never did. He always ran and ran, away from whatever was thrown at him.

And only now that she was gone, did he realize how much he wanted to listen. Make her proud. If he could only change it all…

But… how could he?

Now he had made more allies. The number of people he had to save was only growing. And he was just lying there, bloodied, defeated…

How could he hope to win against Draven when even one of his pets gave him a run for his money?

Some hero he was.

At this rate his family would vanish forever. And just like that day he’d stand still, utterly hopeless as everything in his life came down like a house of cards.

For a second all he could see was flames. Towering blazing pillars engulfing his family home. He was but a young child coming back from school when he saw the house burning to the ground.

“Help! Somebody!”

He heard his sister’s scream from her bedroom window… he heard it all too clear. But his feet wouldn’t move. They wouldn’t budge an inch. Why wouldn’t he move? His sister was right there asking for help! Why weren’t his legs moving?!

Tears filled young Rokuro’s eyes as he struggled to breath. Move damn it!

But he couldn’t.

Thankfully for Kana the firefighters came soon after and managed to rescue her. Their mother hugged them both tight, thankful her children had survived the tragedy. Kana coughed against her shoulder, her small frame trembling, throat raw from smoke—but she was alive. The home was gone, lost to the flames but at least… their family was intact.

Or so Rokuro thought. Outside their home Rokuro’s father looked at his son, something unreadable in his eyes.

He wasn’t exactly a family man. He was a tough ans strict man. He always had high expactactions of his children and especially his eldest.

That’s why when he opened his mouth he said,

“Why didn’t you move, Rokuro?”

His words cut like knives. Rokuro still didn’t have the capacity to react to anything due to the shock. But he heard his father clear as day.

“I’m asking you, Rokuro. Why didn’t you move?” His tone became harsher, “Your sister was asking for help!”

“Stop it, Takuma!” Their mother, Sachiko, intervened, “What did you want him to do?! He’s only a child!”

“He’s the man of this family when I’m not around! He should have rushed to his sister!”

Deep within him Rokuro knew he couldn’t do anything. That he wouldn’t be able to save himself let alone his sister. But still… the fact he froze when Kana needed him… his sister, the one he’s supposed to protect…

Burnt him more than any house fire ever could.

He knew it was stupid. That what he did was logical. But he couldn’t forgive himself for it.

And that was one of the few times he saw his father after that. His parents’ divorce came soon after. The tragedy ripped a hole between Sachiko and Takuma no amount of time could ever heal.

Insurance gave them a place to stay, but it didn’t mend what had broken inside the family.

They had lost their home, and with it the faith they had in each other.

And deep within him Rokuro felt that… he had failed his father. Even if he were strict, strong headed and hard to please he was still his dad. And he wanted to make him proud.

But the disappointment in his eyes when he looked at him that day…

That was something that couldn’t be undone.

Rokuro felt responsible for the divorce. And he carried his cowardice with him every day.

That’s why he lashed out. Why he neglected his responsibilities. He could never live up to what his father thought of him. That’s why he became the exact opposite. There was no point chasing a shadow he couldn’t reach.

And as a result he distanced himself from his remaining family too. Because when he looked at Kana he remembered the sister he had failed. And when he looked at his mom, who urged him to be better, he always remembered that he couldn’t.

That was why he was failing in this other world too. But… could he afford to continue here like that?

Did he want to keep failing everyone…?

“No…”

His hands found the jagged edges of the debris. His muscles screamed as he shoved. One broken wall panel shifted. Then another.

I’m not lying down and accepting fate again. I’m not taking the easy way out.

They put me in this shitty spot for a reason.

They branded me their hero for a reason.

Life gave mom and Kana another chance for a reason! And I’m not giving it up!

Kagi was fighting for him. Lykos was injured. Everybody was losing hope.

They all waited for him to do something. Just like his family did.

But now… he was done neglecting his duties. Even if it meant accepting he was some prophesized hero…

He was done second guessing the title of the Lock.

He would own it. If they wanted him to be their hero he would gladly accept that weight. That responsibility.

I’m not sitting idly by any longer.

Slowly but steadily Rokuro rose from the debris.

“I’m not… running… ever again…!“

He groaned and pushed back the pain, teeth gritted. He could barely stand. But he didn’t care.

He felt the rage build up within him. Just like back at the clearing before they met the rebels. Kenji. The school. Kagi.

He remembered her words.

“…The gauntlet of the Gatekeeper responds to your will…”

He saw how the artifact glowed in his hand, violets and blues dancing across his arm in a tandem.

If he could harness that emotion… that rage he had felt when he had gone berserk in the clearing... If he could control it… then…

He might have a shot at winning.

After everything Lykos had put him through, he wasn’t the same person as back then. And now was the time to prove it. To himself and everyone else.

Rokuro spat blood, and gritted his teeth.

“Fine by me.”

He looked down from the roof he was in, seeing the rebels disheartened fighting a losing battle. Only Kagi was still actively fighting, giving it her best, bloodied, bruised, the rest… were just trying to delay the inevitable.

Giving up? Not on my watch!

That’s when a crazy idea came to him.

With all the strength he could muster, he stepped back and dashed towards the edge of the roof. It was a reckless, dangerous plan. But he couldn’t think of anything else. He had to make it happen.

He launched himself into the air, the world tilting beneath him. Hands locked together over his head, the gauntlet flared, its core pulsing like a second heartbeat. He channelled everything he had in it, hopes, regrets, rage….

“AAAAAAAAH!”

With a mighty roar he dropped his hands like a hammer on the golem’s head, the shockwave from his gauntlet sending ripples across Ashvale. The moment he connected—

WHAM—

the force ripped through the square, rattling windows and cracking stone. The golem dropped to one knee, metal shrieking.

Its head jerked once, gears screaming as if the construct couldn’t process the blow. For the first time, it froze—locked mid-motion, stunned into silence.

For a moment there was only silence across the battlefield. Nero, Selka, the rebels, everyone looked on in pure disbelief.

Even the Crystalor guards hesitated, weapons half-raised. Fear flickered in their eyes. None of them dared to be the first to rush at the boy who managed to drop their biggest weapon.

“That bastard…” Nero muttered, a grin splitting his face.

“He really is as stubborn as he looks!” Selka beamed, hope sparking in her chest once more.

Kagi looked at him, a smile blooming proudly across her face despite her exhaustion.

“Took you long enough, Roku…”

“Sorry for making you wait.” Rokuro nodded and clenched his fists. Before the golem could rise and kick him off, Rokuro jumped off it, landing a good distance away.

“Good job, Kagi.” He nodded at her, and she nodded back, a wordless understanding between them.

“Heh.” She scoffed, proud as ever, “Of course.”

Then with fists clenched, Rokuro turned to everyone.

“Are you okay with losing here?!” His voice reverberated towards his allies.

The rebels looked at him in stunned silence. The Crystalor guards were left speechless. Nobody replied. They only looked at him in shock.

The battlefield, moments ago a storm of steel and screams, hung frozen in disbelief—as though the impossible had stolen the breath from every throat.

“Well I’m not.” He turned his back to them.

“Because I’m the Lock!” He jabbed a thumb to his chest, resolutely declaring, “And I will save each and every one of you even if it’s the last thing I do!”

Then, from a nearby sunken building, a figure emerged. It was Lykos. He was bloodied, bruised, and clutching his side. But he was standing.

The rebels couldn’t believe their eyes.

“What are you all standing around for?” He spat blood, but gave a rare grin, “You heard the Lock. The rebels aren’t done fighting.”

Then like a wave, the previously devastated army of Ironwood, raised their weapons and voices.

“AYE!”