Lufli
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- Jan 2, 2026
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Hey! I’d love some honest feedback on this opening scene. I’m mostly trying to improve immersion and pacing. Does it hook you, do the characters feel real, and is anything confusing or awkward? Feel free to be blunt.
----
Levin faced his sister, who stood in front of him. He bit his lower lip; his throat tightened. She stared back at him with watery eyes and a set jaw. Her hands were clenched so hard her knuckles had gone white.
Levin leaned into her line of sight as her eyes fell to the floor.
With a tap on her shoulder, he said, “Don’t worry. We trained together, remember?”
“I’m not worried,” she said—too fast. “I know you’re the strongest.”
Levin nodded.
“Then I’d better be.” He scanned the room: no windows, one door in the back, one in the front. The people who sat here quietly shivered or cried.
And the few who stood beside them held their hands or tapped their shoulders.
“Remember what I taught you about hide and seek. Today you gotta hide real good, okay?”
Levin held his tight fist in front of his sister. She blinked at it, then at him, and finally bumped it with her own fist. A frayed blue ribbon was tied around her wrist.
It trembled when she lifted her fist.
The same blue was cut into Levin's shirt underneath the leather armor.
Levin rose and faced the wooden front door.
Outside, the alley between the huts was lit by a handful of silvery lanterns, unevenly spaced.
“You come first. Always.” He didn’t fully look back as he left. In big steps, he walked out. A few young men and some young women followed. Before he could even close the door behind him, a sound cracked. Half sigh, half sob.
He lowered his head and counted insects in the dirt, anything to occupy his own mind. For a moment, he thought about just grabbing her and running away.
“Let's do this!” a big man said, slapping his back.
“This is your coming-of-age ceremony. Let’s drink some liquor afterwards, yeah?” A crooked smile spread all over his face.
Levin let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
“Watch your strength, jerk! I like my spine.” Levin narrowed his eyes. The man leaned back, his chin pressing against his chest, and tapped his temple. He laughed with the other men surrounding him. The few women only chuckled, at most.
They’re laughing again. Is this what I’m staying here for? Levin thought.
The elder stood a dozen meters away. Gray hair caught the light of three moons. His brows knit tightly.
“Hey, quit playing around! Do you not understand the situation we’re in?”
The wrinkles made him seem older than he probably was.
"Especially you, Reo. You should be standing beside me instead of cracking jokes.” He lifted a hand, and his ring caught the moonlight: black, ridged, set with a jewel that glowed faintly
The man beside Levin—Reo—strode up. A red bandana sat tight beneath his hairline, bright as fresh paint against his dark skin. He lifted the axe from the doorframe and dropped it onto his shoulder. The impact of his swing made the wood groan.
Reo blocked half the lanternlight when he stood in front of Levin, too broad for this narrow alley, too tall for these squat huts. Levin didn’t remember ever seeing anyone like him.
“What if it was a false signal. Then everyone panicked for noth—” Reo scratched the back of his neck, immediately interrupted.
“There are no false signals. How many times does this have to happen for you to understand?” The elder's brows lowered for a moment.
He turned to Levin. “Stay sharp, Levin. We can’t afford mistakes—”
Suddenly, a cold jolt tore through Levin’s body. Like an itch that wandered from under his feet up to the base of his skull. Gooseflesh rose along his arms.
“They’re here. The energy stream has changed.” Everyone flinched as the pressure rose in the air.
“Everyone, to your weapons! Protect the host—don’t let them reach his shelter.”
In under a second, everyone scattered. Now there weren’t any weapons near the doorframe. Levin, too, grabbed the daggers from his hips and sharpened his gaze.
In the sky, strings and spheres of light appeared, and Levin’s breath tightened. His eyes began burning so badly that he wanted to rub them out. All the water that had wanted to escape them moments ago evaporated.
He whipped his head around, scanning every direction.
The strings began forming in several colors. They radiated light across every spectrum. Only rarely was a string two-colored. Levin felt the cold—or warmth, depending—from where he stood.
Only the elder and Reo stayed at Levin’s side.
He turned to them. “It’s three of them! One right ahead, one to the west, one to the east.”
“Reo, take Levin and sprint to the west flank. I’ll take care of the east flank!”
“Got it! Don’t die, old geezer!” Reo’s grin faded for a moment.
Reo bolted to Levin, fist bunching his collar. Veins corded along his forearm.
“Where is the bastard hiding?” he asked.
Levin didn’t blink. “A little to the right—there.”
Reo adjusted by a hair, then hooked an arm behind his head and yanked Levin skyward. Wind slapped Levin’s face. He squinted, his lip curling into a snarl of pure loathing.
Could’ve warned me.
Levin twisted midair. For a heartbeat, he hung among the light-strings, each one thicker than his torso, the smallest still taller than him. Up close, the blue wasn’t just blue. It churned through shades, light to ink-dark, colors refusing to mix—like oil in water. Cold prickled across Levin’s skin when his hand cut through one.
Then the strings poured down toward the ground, toward him.
The invader.
The invader’s ears twitched. He looked up, straight into Levin’s eyes, tens of meters above.
While falling, Levin drew two daggers and crossed his arms. Down below, the invader lowered his stance, fists rising.
He lunged the moment Levin was about to land.
Levin threw a dagger.
The invader knocked it aside.
Hitting the ground, Levin caught himself with the Stream wrapped tight around his feet. A dark-blue strand clung to his shoe like glue.
He drove in for the enemy’s stomach with his remaining dagger.
The invader sprang back, forearms still guarding his head. Levin snatched up the thrown dagger and pressed again. Every time he closed the gap, his skin tingled electrically. His stomach turned.
The invader kept giving ground, which made Levin’s eyes widen... then harden again right after.
Faster.
His slashes turned into a blur, the air whistling with each cut. The invader dodged—duck, left, right—breath quickening, yet still… no killing intent. Levin’s hair didn’t rise. His instincts didn’t scream.
Then blood finally spilled, just a nick, but it made the invader hop back a little too far.
Levin didn’t think. He threw for the head.
Got you.
He didn’t.
The invader’s jaw tightened, eyelids flicking wide. His hand snapped up in front of his face, and the blade punched into his palm instead of his skull.
He landed clean, yanked the dagger free, and raised both hands; one now slick with blood.
“Peace.” His face stayed flat. “I’m not here for the villagers.”
Levin’s brows twitched. He hardened his grip. It felt like his heart pressed against his chest, ready to lunge out and wrap fingers around the enemy’s throat.
He held both daggers high. Still, he straightened a fraction.
“Funny,” Levin said. “Your kind burned us last time.”
“Last time wasn’t me.”
“Your kind,” Levin repeated.
“I’m not welcome, it seems.”
“You’re not—”
A scream tore through Levin’s words... then the whole ground vibrated as Reo dropped from above. It dented under him, while his axe slammed into the ground, upright.
His laugh immediately filled the alley. The few lanterns along the huts flickered.
“Little earthborn,” Reo said. “Leave.”
The invader raised his hands again, balled up fists. “Two against one.? Not fair.”
“This isn’t your world, scum—”
Then it hit Levin. Out of nowhere, a cold tingle crawled up his spine. The tingle turned into a shriek.
Levin clenched his head as his vision flared hot.
Not now.
The strings appeared in the air with a heat that made sweat bead on Levin’s skin. They spiraled around the invader, slid under his skin, and fanned out again, hooking into something that seemed deep inside.
The invader lifted one hand before Levin could turn to Reo.
Levin’s body slammed into the ground as if gravity had doubled. Stone warped under him. It felt like an elephant was pushing him down with all its strength, crashing every ounce of breath from his lungs.
He could only turn his head. Reo was still standing, axe braced to the earth and teeth clenched.
Levin tried screaming, but no words came out. His face turned redder as he couldn’t move at all.
Sound vanished into one endless, tearing ring. He felt the very substance of his fingers—his bones—crushing into thousands of shards.
Boots stepped into his view. The invader moved past him, toward Reo, until his leg cut Reo out of sight. One hand slid behind his back, slow and deliberate, while his body swayed slightly.
Dammit. Move body!
Levin pushed against the ground, but nothing budged. He couldn’t even get his hands up.
Then it ended.
The shrieking ringing now felt only like an echo, distant enough to feel unreal.
Air rushed back into his lungs.
Something spilled onto the ground, like water. The smell of iron penetrated Levin’s nose as his eyes searched for the sky.
Levin pushed himself up, fingers numb. His gaze snapped to Reo.
The invader stood beside him, coughing hard, barely on his feet. Blood streaked from his nose in thick streams.
Reo, on the other hand, wasn’t moving. A big, dark cut drew horizontally along his chest. He was resting on his knees, eyes shut.
With a bloody knife, the invader said, “One down... you’re next,” in between coughs.
His legs were shivering while he leaned with one hand on Reo’s unmoving body.
Levin’s jaw shivered, but his eyes froze.
----
Levin faced his sister, who stood in front of him. He bit his lower lip; his throat tightened. She stared back at him with watery eyes and a set jaw. Her hands were clenched so hard her knuckles had gone white.
Levin leaned into her line of sight as her eyes fell to the floor.
With a tap on her shoulder, he said, “Don’t worry. We trained together, remember?”
“I’m not worried,” she said—too fast. “I know you’re the strongest.”
Levin nodded.
“Then I’d better be.” He scanned the room: no windows, one door in the back, one in the front. The people who sat here quietly shivered or cried.
And the few who stood beside them held their hands or tapped their shoulders.
“Remember what I taught you about hide and seek. Today you gotta hide real good, okay?”
Levin held his tight fist in front of his sister. She blinked at it, then at him, and finally bumped it with her own fist. A frayed blue ribbon was tied around her wrist.
It trembled when she lifted her fist.
The same blue was cut into Levin's shirt underneath the leather armor.
Levin rose and faced the wooden front door.
Outside, the alley between the huts was lit by a handful of silvery lanterns, unevenly spaced.
“You come first. Always.” He didn’t fully look back as he left. In big steps, he walked out. A few young men and some young women followed. Before he could even close the door behind him, a sound cracked. Half sigh, half sob.
He lowered his head and counted insects in the dirt, anything to occupy his own mind. For a moment, he thought about just grabbing her and running away.
“Let's do this!” a big man said, slapping his back.
“This is your coming-of-age ceremony. Let’s drink some liquor afterwards, yeah?” A crooked smile spread all over his face.
Levin let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
“Watch your strength, jerk! I like my spine.” Levin narrowed his eyes. The man leaned back, his chin pressing against his chest, and tapped his temple. He laughed with the other men surrounding him. The few women only chuckled, at most.
They’re laughing again. Is this what I’m staying here for? Levin thought.
The elder stood a dozen meters away. Gray hair caught the light of three moons. His brows knit tightly.
“Hey, quit playing around! Do you not understand the situation we’re in?”
The wrinkles made him seem older than he probably was.
"Especially you, Reo. You should be standing beside me instead of cracking jokes.” He lifted a hand, and his ring caught the moonlight: black, ridged, set with a jewel that glowed faintly
The man beside Levin—Reo—strode up. A red bandana sat tight beneath his hairline, bright as fresh paint against his dark skin. He lifted the axe from the doorframe and dropped it onto his shoulder. The impact of his swing made the wood groan.
Reo blocked half the lanternlight when he stood in front of Levin, too broad for this narrow alley, too tall for these squat huts. Levin didn’t remember ever seeing anyone like him.
“What if it was a false signal. Then everyone panicked for noth—” Reo scratched the back of his neck, immediately interrupted.
“There are no false signals. How many times does this have to happen for you to understand?” The elder's brows lowered for a moment.
He turned to Levin. “Stay sharp, Levin. We can’t afford mistakes—”
Suddenly, a cold jolt tore through Levin’s body. Like an itch that wandered from under his feet up to the base of his skull. Gooseflesh rose along his arms.
“They’re here. The energy stream has changed.” Everyone flinched as the pressure rose in the air.
“Everyone, to your weapons! Protect the host—don’t let them reach his shelter.”
In under a second, everyone scattered. Now there weren’t any weapons near the doorframe. Levin, too, grabbed the daggers from his hips and sharpened his gaze.
In the sky, strings and spheres of light appeared, and Levin’s breath tightened. His eyes began burning so badly that he wanted to rub them out. All the water that had wanted to escape them moments ago evaporated.
He whipped his head around, scanning every direction.
The strings began forming in several colors. They radiated light across every spectrum. Only rarely was a string two-colored. Levin felt the cold—or warmth, depending—from where he stood.
Only the elder and Reo stayed at Levin’s side.
He turned to them. “It’s three of them! One right ahead, one to the west, one to the east.”
“Reo, take Levin and sprint to the west flank. I’ll take care of the east flank!”
“Got it! Don’t die, old geezer!” Reo’s grin faded for a moment.
Reo bolted to Levin, fist bunching his collar. Veins corded along his forearm.
“Where is the bastard hiding?” he asked.
Levin didn’t blink. “A little to the right—there.”
Reo adjusted by a hair, then hooked an arm behind his head and yanked Levin skyward. Wind slapped Levin’s face. He squinted, his lip curling into a snarl of pure loathing.
Could’ve warned me.
Levin twisted midair. For a heartbeat, he hung among the light-strings, each one thicker than his torso, the smallest still taller than him. Up close, the blue wasn’t just blue. It churned through shades, light to ink-dark, colors refusing to mix—like oil in water. Cold prickled across Levin’s skin when his hand cut through one.
Then the strings poured down toward the ground, toward him.
The invader.
The invader’s ears twitched. He looked up, straight into Levin’s eyes, tens of meters above.
While falling, Levin drew two daggers and crossed his arms. Down below, the invader lowered his stance, fists rising.
He lunged the moment Levin was about to land.
Levin threw a dagger.
The invader knocked it aside.
Hitting the ground, Levin caught himself with the Stream wrapped tight around his feet. A dark-blue strand clung to his shoe like glue.
He drove in for the enemy’s stomach with his remaining dagger.
The invader sprang back, forearms still guarding his head. Levin snatched up the thrown dagger and pressed again. Every time he closed the gap, his skin tingled electrically. His stomach turned.
The invader kept giving ground, which made Levin’s eyes widen... then harden again right after.
Faster.
His slashes turned into a blur, the air whistling with each cut. The invader dodged—duck, left, right—breath quickening, yet still… no killing intent. Levin’s hair didn’t rise. His instincts didn’t scream.
Then blood finally spilled, just a nick, but it made the invader hop back a little too far.
Levin didn’t think. He threw for the head.
Got you.
He didn’t.
The invader’s jaw tightened, eyelids flicking wide. His hand snapped up in front of his face, and the blade punched into his palm instead of his skull.
He landed clean, yanked the dagger free, and raised both hands; one now slick with blood.
“Peace.” His face stayed flat. “I’m not here for the villagers.”
Levin’s brows twitched. He hardened his grip. It felt like his heart pressed against his chest, ready to lunge out and wrap fingers around the enemy’s throat.
He held both daggers high. Still, he straightened a fraction.
“Funny,” Levin said. “Your kind burned us last time.”
“Last time wasn’t me.”
“Your kind,” Levin repeated.
“I’m not welcome, it seems.”
“You’re not—”
A scream tore through Levin’s words... then the whole ground vibrated as Reo dropped from above. It dented under him, while his axe slammed into the ground, upright.
His laugh immediately filled the alley. The few lanterns along the huts flickered.
“Little earthborn,” Reo said. “Leave.”
The invader raised his hands again, balled up fists. “Two against one.? Not fair.”
“This isn’t your world, scum—”
Then it hit Levin. Out of nowhere, a cold tingle crawled up his spine. The tingle turned into a shriek.
Levin clenched his head as his vision flared hot.
Not now.
The strings appeared in the air with a heat that made sweat bead on Levin’s skin. They spiraled around the invader, slid under his skin, and fanned out again, hooking into something that seemed deep inside.
The invader lifted one hand before Levin could turn to Reo.
Levin’s body slammed into the ground as if gravity had doubled. Stone warped under him. It felt like an elephant was pushing him down with all its strength, crashing every ounce of breath from his lungs.
He could only turn his head. Reo was still standing, axe braced to the earth and teeth clenched.
Levin tried screaming, but no words came out. His face turned redder as he couldn’t move at all.
Sound vanished into one endless, tearing ring. He felt the very substance of his fingers—his bones—crushing into thousands of shards.
Boots stepped into his view. The invader moved past him, toward Reo, until his leg cut Reo out of sight. One hand slid behind his back, slow and deliberate, while his body swayed slightly.
Dammit. Move body!
Levin pushed against the ground, but nothing budged. He couldn’t even get his hands up.
Then it ended.
The shrieking ringing now felt only like an echo, distant enough to feel unreal.
Air rushed back into his lungs.
Something spilled onto the ground, like water. The smell of iron penetrated Levin’s nose as his eyes searched for the sky.
Levin pushed himself up, fingers numb. His gaze snapped to Reo.
The invader stood beside him, coughing hard, barely on his feet. Blood streaked from his nose in thick streams.
Reo, on the other hand, wasn’t moving. A big, dark cut drew horizontally along his chest. He was resting on his knees, eyes shut.
With a bloody knife, the invader said, “One down... you’re next,” in between coughs.
His legs were shivering while he leaned with one hand on Reo’s unmoving body.
Levin’s jaw shivered, but his eyes froze.
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