The Rise of the Omega Supreme

(POV: Renata) “Damn it!” I exclaim frustrated for the fifth time. Ever since I started on this damn journey, I’ve been walking for nearly a whole day. The sun is at its highest point, so I assume it’s already noon or what’s commonly known as lunchtime. And I still haven’t stopped to eat. Maybe due to the adrenaline of being on a mission, I haven’t felt hungry until now, but I do feel pain.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

“Ouch!” I scream as a loose stone scrapes my ankle, throwing off my balance. I sense the impact of each stone against my body; I’m definitely going to be bruised. “Crap!” I curse angrily as I look at the path I’ll have to traverse again. I glance at my body and notice that my pants are already torn from the many times I’ve rolled on this pile of rocks. My arms are shielded by my super-resistant leather jacket. But even so, my muscles feel the impact of the fall and everything that followed. I count to ten mentally and take a deep breath; my body trembles from pain, and my hands sting from the cuts. Gathering all the strength I have left, I begin to climb the mountain once more. I don’t have climbing equipment, or at least I don’t know if I do, because I haven’t mustered the courage to open the heavy backpack my mother prepared. Trying to be even more careful than last time, I start my ascent. First, I find a handhold and quickly position my feet to start ascending. Holy moon! I’m almost there, only a bit more, and I’ll finally be done with this damn climb that’s leaving me with bruises. Ecstatic about finally reaching the mountain’s summit, but once again. A stone shifts when I try to place my foot on it to support my weight, and then others start dislodging as well. My heart starts racing so fast that I sense a pain in my chest. I try desperately to hold onto something, but the more I move and try to find support, the more the stones fall. I look down and realize that if I fall from this height, I’ll likely be buried under the rocks and die. Great, how humiliating to die without even reaching the cursed wolf pack. “Crap! Damn it!” I curse, or at least I try to, because in my voice, it sounds more like a plea than an angry curse. Then, a large, strong, calloused hand grabs mine and pulls me up, snapping me out of my reverie. I attempt to look at the face of the person who saved my life, but the brightness of the sun blinds me. And all I can make out is their hair: black and wavy, looking soft, almost tempting to touch and tug to see if they’re real. I’m so distracted admiring their hair that I only return to reality when I hear a deep, hoarse voice, sending shivers down to my leg hair. “Are you crazy, girl?” He exclaims exasperatedly, “Is there crap in place of your brain?” “Huh? What?” I speak disoriented. I’m confused by the sensation that this deep voice is causing in me. “How can you try to climb this mountain without the necessary equipment? Especially in this forest full of wild animals? Don’t you know the dangers? Aren’t you afraid of dying? You…,” he starts bombarding me with questions, making me even more dizzy, “Are you okay?” I manage to blink my eyes and adjust to the brightness, allowing me to see my savior’s face clearly. My heart skips a beat as I meet the intensity of those blue eyes. Those eyes… I could stare into the depths of those beautiful blue eyes all day, like I’ve never seen anything like them before. Calm and yet so mysterious. I snap out of my thoughts as I’m shaken by the shoulders. “Sorry, what were you saying?” I try to disguise the fact that I was nearly drooling over this person in front of me. “I was saying you’re crazy for trying to climb this mountain without the necessary equipment,” he points out. “You’re right!” I say to wrap up the topic, “well, thank you, you saved my life, and I’ll be forever grateful, sir…” “Deniel, and who are you?” He asks, looking at me intently. What a handsome man. I must be only overwhelmed since he’s the first man I’ve seen, but he’s quite a specimen, it even makes me feel warm. Stop it, Renata, you perv! – my mind accuses. I never thought I’d feel this way about the first man I meet in my life. Literally. I try to get up from the ground, but my legs give way, and before I sense the impact of hitting the floor. I sense large, muscular arms around me, helping me to sit on the bed. I can’t see his face due to my blurred vision from the dizziness. When my vision clears, I look up and get lost in the blue sky in front of me. I hold my breath, feeling my hands tremble. Crap! What’s happening to me? “Are you feeling better?” He asks, concerned. “I… I, well… I…,” I stammer, already forgetting his question, “Can you repeat that?” I ask, embarrassed. “Seems you have a hearing problem,” he smirks, and what a smirk, what a mouth. “No, I don’t!” I snap, he doesn’t even know me and he’s already making assumptions like that. Wait… he doesn’t know me, and I don’t know him, damn it! “Who are you? Where am I? And how did I end up here?” I ask all at once. “A lot of questions for someone who only woke up from a long hibernation.” “What do you mean?” I ask, confused. “You’ve been asleep for a day and a half.” I widen my eyes; why did I sleep for so long? I thought it was only a few hours. What happened while I was sleeping? “You still haven’t answered my questions!” I accuse. “Alright, I’ll answer,” he shrugs. “I’m waiting.” The stranger steps away from me, walking over to a chair near the door, which I now realize is the exit of the room. He brings the chair closer to the bed, sits down, and gazes into my eyes as he begins to speak: “Well, as I introduced myself earlier, my name is Deniel. You’re in my house, which is on top of the mountain you were trying to kill yourself on.” “I wasn’t trying to commit suicide, what an idiotic thing to do!” I defend myself. “That’s the only plausible explanation for a fragile person like you to climb this mountain completely unequipped.” “I didn’t…” “I brought you here because you were severely injured and passed out when I was holding you. Oh, and before you ask, yes…” “Yes, what?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, I was the one who bathed you, changed your clothes, and tended to your wounds.” Processing his words, I look at my body and see that I’m wearing a nightgown. I recognize it as the one I received for my birthday last year. I sense my cheeks burning, knowing they’re turning red. I’m not brave enough to look at him, as the only person who has seen me without clothes is me and my mother. “So, you…”