《The Way Of Evolution》


 The Beginning Of End

    1 | The Beginning of the End


    Ah, childhood. A time of innocence, joy, and carefree laughter.


    Or so I¡¯ve heard.


    Mine? Well¡­ let¡¯s just say it was a little different.


    See, I didn¡¯t exactly start life the way most people do. No warm embrace, no proud parents shedding tears of joy. Nope. Instead, I was tossed away like last night¡¯s leftovers.


    Abandoned. Left to die.


    Great way to enter the world, right?


    But here¡¯s where fate decided to spice things up. Because, instead of starving to death in some back alley, I was found by a boy¡ªa stranger by blood, but family by choice. My brother. The only person who ever truly mattered.


    He gave me a home. A name. A reason to exist.


    We weren¡¯t rich. Far from it. But we made it work.


    Then, of course, life did what life does best¡ªit took everything away.


    ---


    2 | The Night Everything Went to Hell


    I was eleven when it happened.


    It started like any other evening. My brother was in the kitchen, probably thinking about how to stretch our last few meals, and I was¡­ well, being a kid.


    Then came the knock.


    A simple, innocent knock on the door. Nothing special.


    Except it was.


    I remember the way my brother¡¯s face changed. One second, he was normal¡ªcalm, composed. The next? His expression turned to stone.


    He hesitated before opening it.


    That should have been my first clue.


    The second clue? His voice.


    ¡°Go to your room,¡± he said.


    That alone wasn¡¯t unusual. But the way he said it? Low, urgent¡ªlike he knew something bad was coming.


    ¡°Why?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Just do it.¡± His voice cracked.


    That should have been my third clue.


    But, being the curious idiot I was, I didn¡¯t listen. Not really.


    I stepped into my room¡­ but I didn¡¯t close the door.


    And I listened.


    At first, it was just voices.


    Then, voices turned to shouting.


    Then¡ªBANG.


    The kind of sound that shatters your entire world.


    I ran out.


    I saw¡ª


    And that was the moment my childhood ended.


    A metal bat.


    Covered in blood.


    My brother¡ªon the ground. His head¡ªsplit open, bleeding.


    And the men standing over him?


    Laughing.


    They looked at me.


    And they smiled.


    I¡¯d like to say I fought back. That I screamed, kicked, clawed¡ªanything.


    But the truth?


    I froze.


    One of them shoved me, hard. My head hit the floor. Everything blurred, my vision twisting into a dark tunnel.


    The last thing I remember before blacking out?


    Their laughter.


    You¡¯d think the worst part of all this was the moment I lost my brother.


    But no.


    The worst part came after.


    See, when I woke up, I wasn¡¯t in some warm, comforting hospital bed. I wasn¡¯t surrounded by kind faces offering condolences.


    I was alone.


    The smell of iron filled my nose.


    My brother¡¯s body? Still there.


    His blood? Still on the floor.


    And me? Still existing.


    I should have cried. Screamed.


    But instead, I just¡­ stared.


    I don¡¯t know how long I stood there before someone finally found me.


    They took my brother¡¯s body.


    And left me behind.


    I followed the ambulance, my legs burning, my mind blank.


    At the hospital, people stared. Whispered.


    Someone called for a stretcher.


    I ignored them.


    I had one goal¡ªone desperate, pathetic hope. That maybe, just maybe, he was still alive.


    Spoiler alert: He wasn¡¯t.


    And just like that, I had nothing.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Which brings us to the funeral.


    Now, you¡¯d think people would show some real grief, right? That they¡¯d mourn, cry, talk about how much he meant to them?


    Yeah, no.


    Instead, I got this:


    > ¡°Well, it was expected. He was drowning in debt. Useless. Pathetic life, pathetic end.¡±


    They said that. About my brother.


    At his own funeral.


    And do you know what I did? Did I scream? Did I punch them? Did I cause a scene?


    No.


    I smiled.


    Yup.


    I smiled.


    Not because I was happy. Not because I had some master plan.


    But because, in that moment, I realized something:


    They were all so damn pathetic.


    Their grief? Fake. Their words? Hollow. Their pity? Meaningless.


    And me? I felt¡­ nothing.


    Just an empty, gnawing void.


    And soon, I would understand why.


    After the funeral, I had nowhere to go. No home, no food, no future.


    So, what did I do?


    I wandered.


    For hours. Maybe days.


    Then, just when I thought life couldn¡¯t get any worse¡­


    I ran into three thugs in a dark alleyway.


    > ¡°Look what we have here,¡± one sneered.


    Another chuckled. ¡°Think he¡¯s worth selling?¡±


    Oh, great. Human trafficking. Just what I needed.


    Now, most kids my age would have been terrified. But me?


    I was too hungry to care.


    I was barely standing, but instinct took over. My eyes darted around, searching for anything useful.


    My fingers closed around a rock.


    It wasn¡¯t much.


    But it was enough.


    The leader took a step closer.


    Mistake.


    I tightened my grip, took aim¡ª


    And hurled the rock straight at his groin.


    Now, I want you to take a moment.


    Really imagine the pain.


    Go ahead. I¡¯ll wait.


    ¡­


    Alright, moving on.


    The guy collapsed instantly, clutching his ¡®family jewels¡¯ like his life depended on it.


    The second thug? Too shocked to react.


    That was mistake number two.


    I lunged, grabbing the fallen knife.


    But the third thug was faster.


    CRACK.


    My skull hit the ground.


    Pain exploded in my head. My vision blurred.


    Then¡ªa sharp, burning sensation in my stomach.


    I gasped. Blood dripped from my lips.


    The thug smirked, convinced I was done. He crouched, reaching for my pockets.


    That was mistake number three.


    I scooped up a handful of dirt and blood¡ª


    And flung it into his eyes.


    Blinded, he swung wildly.


    I didn¡¯t wait.


    I grabbed the knife¡ª


    And stabbed.


    Straight into his skull.


    The third thug¡ªthe only one left standing¡ªfroze.


    He stared at me. At the blood. At his dead friend.


    And he ran.


    Smart.


    But not smart enough.


    I took a deep breath, steadied my aim¡ª


    And threw the knife.


    It spun through the air before embedding itself deep in his liver.


    He gasped, stumbled, fell.


    And just like that, it was over.


    I stood there for a moment, watching the blood pool around me.


    Then, finally, my body gave out.


    I collapsed.


    What Did I Feel?


    Regret?


    No.


    Fear?


    No.


    Guilt?


    No.


    Nothing. I felt absolutely nothing.


    Not when I picked up that knife. Not when I stabbed them. Not when I watched their bodies hit the ground.


    There was no satisfaction. No horror.


    Only an overwhelming emptiness.


    The innocent child who once lived in this body?


    He was gone.


    All that remained was¡­ me.


    And this was just the beginning.


    2 | When I Woke Up, I Was Alone


    A disgusting smell of chemicals yanked me out of unconsciousness.


    My eyes refused to open, but I could still hear. I could feel.


    Which, honestly? Not a great sign.


    It took me a moment to process the situation. My body wasn¡¯t responding, but my brain was still online. And, to make things even weirder¡ª


    I could hear voices.


    In my head.


    At first, I figured, ¡°Great. I finally lost it. Took longer than expected.¡±


    But then, one of the voices spoke directly to me.


    > ¡°Don¡¯t worry. You are not injured anymore.¡±


    Gentle, firm. Like some kind of wise mentor.


    Naturally, I responded with the usual level of grace and composure:


    > ¡°W-Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in my head?!¡±


    The voice answered calmly.


    > ¡°I¡¯m Asher. And I am you.¡±


    ¡­Okay.


    That¡¯s concerning.


    Before I could panic, a second voice cut in. This one? Colder. Sharper. Like steel grinding against ice.


    > ¡°Stop babying him, Asher. He¡¯s not a child.¡±


    > ¡°Oh, come on,¡± Asher sighed. ¡°He just went through a traumatic event. It¡¯s only natural to be worried.¡±


    > ¡°Worried? You¡¯re both pathetic. He needs to wake up.¡±


    Then, just as I was starting to wrap my head around things¡ª


    A third voice joined in.


    This one was different. Playful. Amused. Like a clown with a child¡¯s mind but an adult¡¯s voice.


    > ¡°Ooooh, this is getting interesting! Alright, place your bets, boys!¡±


    > ¡°Shut up, Riven,¡± the cold voice snapped.


    > ¡°Aw, come on! It was just getting fun! Solace, let the kid breathe. Or¡ªwait. He can¡¯t even move yet! That¡¯s hilarious!¡±


    They were arguing.


    Inside my head.


    Yeah. Definitely losing my mind.


    At that point, I did the only logical thing¡ªI wished I could pass out again.


    Unfortunately, my body had other plans.


    Suddenly, I felt my lips move. My voice came out hoarse and dry.


    > ¡°Finally¡­ I can speak.¡±


    The cold voice¡ªSolace, apparently¡ªresponded immediately.


    > ¡°Silence.¡±


    Well, alright then. Rude.


    I focused, trying to figure out how to communicate with them. Before I could even ask, the playful one¡ªRiven¡ªchimed in again.


    > ¡°Silly! We can hear your thoughts!¡±


    ¡­Great. Privacy is officially dead.


    Fine. If I couldn¡¯t ignore them, I might as well get some answers.


    > ¡°Alright. What¡¯s going on? Who are you guys?¡±


    Solace cut straight to the point.


    > ¡°Enough of that. We need to get out of here first.¡±


    And, you know what? He had a point.


    Because when I finally managed to open my eyes¡­


    I realized I was lying on a stretcher.


    And in front of me?


    A hunched-over man, working on something that definitely wasn¡¯t legal.


    And that¡¯s when it hit me.


    I was a guinea pig.


    Oh, fantastic. One of those thugs must¡¯ve survived¡ªand decided to sell me off to this guy.


    Suspicious-looking¡­ alchemist? Scientist? Butcher?


    Whatever he was, I was pretty sure I didn¡¯t want to be on his operating table.


    Solace¡¯s voice snapped me back to reality.


    > ¡°You done?¡±


    > ¡°Mind explaining the situation?¡± I asked.


    > ¡°We¡¯ll talk about us later,¡± Solace said. ¡°Right now, focus on getting out.¡±


    Asher chimed in.


    > ¡°Whatever you¡¯re thinking is correct. You were sold. And he¡¯s planning to butcher and experiment on you.¡±


    I took a deep breath.


    > ¡°So¡­ what¡¯s the plan?¡±


    And just like that¡ªmy life got even more complicated.


    1 | Bad News First? Or Worse News First?


    Alright, kid, we¡¯ve got good news and bad news. What do you want first?


    Now, any reasonable person would choose good news first, right? You know, ease into the inevitable horror show.


    But me? Well, after everything that¡¯s happened, my definition of ¡®good¡¯ was already pretty twisted.


    So I played along.


    "If I¡¯m gonna hear something, it better be something good."


    The calm voice spoke first. "For us to awaken, we had to consume some sort of energy¡­ and you had none."


    Okay. Off to a fantastic start.


    "But your body sure did. We absorbed your potential over eleven years¡ªevery ounce of growth, every bit of strength, every drop of latent power. And then, when you saw your brother die¡­ that negative energy? That was enough to awaken two guys who weren¡¯t exactly eager to wake up."


    That made me pause.


    "Two guys?"


    "Let¡¯s leave them alone for now," the voice continued, dismissing my question like it was a minor footnote. "The point is, we can now release all of your potential back."


    I frowned. "Explain it like you¡¯re explaining to a child."


    The calm voice chuckled. "Alright. First, you¡¯


    re about to get taller. A lot taller. Possibly taller than most adults, since we weren¡¯t just absorbing your potential¡ªwe were amplifying it."


    Huh. That didn¡¯t sound too bad.


    "Second," he continued, "your strength, speed, and endurance will all increase to match an average adult¡¯s. Maybe a little more, depending on how your body adapts."


    I nodded slowly. "Alright¡­ now hit me with the bad news."


    A new voice¡ªplayful, almost excited¡ªspoke up.


    "Ooooh, lemme do this part. It¡¯s gonna hurt."


    "How bad?"


    "Hurt like hell."

 Chapter 2: The Transformation and Hunt

    Well, that was vague and terrifying.


    The voice elaborated, way too cheerfully.


    "By hell, I mean every single bone in your body is going to break and remake itself. Your muscles will tear apart and rebuild. Your organs will shift. And this isn¡¯t a ¡®one and done¡¯ kinda deal¡ªit¡¯s gonna last for days. Maybe weeks."


    Oh.


    Oh, great.


    "Plus," the voice continued, "the second you wake up, you¡¯re gonna be starving. Not ¡®I skipped breakfast¡¯ hungry¡ªno, no, no. More like ¡®I will eat anything that moves¡¯ hungry."


    I blinked. "That¡¯s¡­ not reassuring."


    "And Fang is definitely not gonna let that happen."


    "Fang?"


    "You remember the villain you had after the Funeral? The one that sometimes popped out mid-fight? Most of the time, Solace took over your body when things got rough, but this guy¡ª"


    The playful voice laughed.


    "He¡¯s survival instinct given form. The lesser evil among evil twin. And he¡¯s gonna do whatever it takes to survive."


    I let that sink in.


    "So, just to summarize¡ªI''m going to experience unimaginable pain, turn into some freakishly tall monster, wake up starving, and then let some ¡®evil twin¡¯ take over my body to eat everything in sight?"


    The voices went silent for a moment.


    Then the calm one muttered, "¡­Yeah, pretty much."


    Fantastic.


    "And one last thing," the cold voice finally chimed in. "You need to find a safe place. You¡¯ll be unconscious the whole time."


    I sighed. "Well¡­ I found one."


    The voices all spoke at once.


    "Where?"


    I pointed.


    "That dumpster."


    There was a long, long pause.


    Then, finally, the cold voice said, "¡­Anything would be fine as long as you survive."


    And with that ringing endorsement, I climbed inside.


    I took a deep breath, bracing myself.


    And then¡ª


    It began.


    2 | Pain. Endless, Agonizing, Excruciating Pain.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    I¡¯ve felt pain before.


    Broken bones. Deep wounds. Starvation.


    But this?


    This was something else entirely.


    It started slow. A dull ache in my arms and legs. A burning sensation crawling up my spine.


    Then¡ª


    CRACK.


    The pain exploded like wildfire, tearing through my body.


    My bones weren¡¯t just breaking¡ªthey were shattering. Splintering. Reforming.


    My muscles stretched, tore apart, and stitched themselves back together¡ªagain and again and again.


    My spine twisted. My ribs expanded. My skull cracked and reshaped itself.


    Every nerve in my body was on fire.


    I would have screamed, but my throat locked up.


    I convulsed, my entire body twitching violently inside the dumpster.


    The voices? Silent.


    They were letting it happen.


    Letting me suffer.


    Time lost meaning.


    Minutes felt like hours. Hours felt like eternity.


    And just when I thought it couldn¡¯t get any worse¡ª


    My heartbeat changed.


    At first, it pounded wildly, like it was trying to break out of my chest.


    Then, slowly, it slowed.


    A deep, steady thump.


    Like a drum.


    Like something ancient, primal.


    And with each beat, my body grew stronger.


    Bigger.


    Hungrier.


    The pain was unbearable, but a part of me¡ªsome deep, buried instinct¡ªliked it.


    Welcomed it.


    Fed on it.


    I lost track of how many times my body broke and rebuilt itself.


    How many times my bones snapped.


    How many times my muscles shredded apart.


    It was a never-ending cycle of destruction and rebirth.


    And then¡ª


    Finally¡ª


    Everything went dark.


    3 | Hunger. Raw, Unrelenting Hunger.


    I woke up to silence.


    For the first time in days¡ªweeks?¡ªI felt¡­ still.


    No more pain. No more breaking bones.


    Just¡­ quiet.


    And then¡ª


    The hunger hit me.


    It was unlike anything I had ever experienced.


    A deep, primal, all-consuming hunger.


    My stomach clenched painfully, demanding something.


    Meat. Blood. Anything.


    And I wasn¡¯t in control anymore.


    He was.


    Fang.


    I felt it the moment he took over.


    A shift. A change.


    My fingers twitched. My breathing slowed.


    And then¡ª


    I moved.


    Not like before.


    Not clumsy. Not weak.


    No.


    This was different.


    I moved like a predator.


    Fast. Precise. Silent.


    I climbed out of the dumpster with ease, landing on the ground without a sound.


    The world around me looked different.


    Sharper. Brighter.


    I could hear everything.


    The rustling of leaves. The distant sound of footsteps. The slow, rhythmic beating of hearts.


    I inhaled deeply.


    The scent of food filled my nose.


    My lips curled into a grin.


    Fang chuckled.


    "Time to eat."


    And just like that¡ª


    I hunted.


    Fang''s Hunt


    You ever watch a predator at work? Not the lazy ones¡ªthe ones that don''t just chase but toy with their prey? The kind that doesn''t kill because it''s necessary, but because something deep inside enjoys it?


    Yeah. Fang is that kind of predator.


    And unfortunately, that means so am I.


    It started with hunger. A different kind. Not the kind you fix with a burger or a stolen plate of steak. This was deeper, rawer¡ªlike my entire body was hollow, and the only thing that could fill it was something¡­ living.


    "You need to eat," Solace had said. "Something real."


    I should¡¯ve asked what real meant.


    Instead, I let go.


    And Fang took over.


    I came back to awareness standing on the rooftop of a decrepit old apartment, wind slicing through my clothes, body humming with energy I hadn''t had a second ago.


    Down below, the streets pulsed with life¡ªpedestrians walking home, neon lights flickering, the distant wail of sirens like a lullaby to the city¡¯s decay.


    And my mouth watered.


    Not at the smell of food, but at the smell of them.


    The rhythm of their heartbeats, the warm rush of blood just beneath their fragile, paper-thin skin.


    "Choose wisely," Riven murmured, half-amused, half-curious.


    I didn''t choose. Fang did.


    A man¡ªmid-thirties, unremarkable, dressed in a cheap suit, briefcase in one hand, phone in the other. Tired eyes, slightly slouched posture. Someone who had long stopped believing they mattered in the grand scheme of things.


    Easy.


    He took a shortcut into an alley. Stupid.


    He never even heard me land behind him.


    "Spare change?"


    The guy jumped, fumbling his phone. His head snapped toward me, and for a moment, I saw the flicker of instincts, the animal buried inside him recognizing something was wrong.


    I smiled. Not with my lips¡ªwith my teeth.


    He ran.


    I let him.


    Not out of mercy. Out of amusement.


    Because the best part of a hunt isn¡¯t the kill. It¡¯s the chase.


    And oh, how I chased.


    He bolted down the alley, panting, shoes slapping against the pavement. Left turn. Right turn. A mad dash through the veins of the city, cutting through the spaces where the streetlights didn¡¯t reach.


    I followed.


    Not running. Walking.


    Because I could hear him. Smell him. Feel him.


    Every erratic breath. Every pulse of terror.


    The moment he thought he lost me.


    The moment he realized he hadn¡¯t.


    He slammed into a dead end.


    Collapsed against the brick wall, wheezing, gasping, fingers clawing at his chest.


    And I was already there.


    Waiting.


    Watching.


    Enjoying the way his pupils dilated when he saw me, the way his chest rose and fell in frantic, desperate waves.


    "Please¡ª" he started.


    I moved.


    There¡¯s a moment between life and death, a fraction of a second where the brain knows it¡¯s over, but the body refuses to accept it.


    I felt it in him.


    The way his limbs twitched as my fingers wrapped around his throat. The way his mouth opened and closed, choking on a scream that never quite came.


    Fang savored it.


    I should¡¯ve stopped him.


    I didn¡¯t.


    Because some sick, twisted part of me wanted to see what happened next.


    Flesh tore.


    Blood spilled.


    It was warm.


    Hot.


    Alive.


    And when it hit my tongue¡ª


    God.


    It was perfect.


    The first time you taste something that changes you, you don¡¯t forget.


    This? This wasn¡¯t just food.


    It was power.


    It flooded through me, lightning in my veins, burning away exhaustion, sharpening my senses until I could hear the city breathing.


    Until I could feel the world bending, shifting, trying to understand what I was.


    A predator.


    A monster.


    Something more.


    I dropped what was left of him.


    He wasn¡¯t important anymore.


    I turned, wiping the blood from my lips, savoring the aftertaste.


    And I smiled.


    Because I knew¡ª


    This wouldn¡¯t be the last time.

 Chapter 3: The Theater of Madness

    Chapter 3: The Theater of Madness


    <strike>


    </strike>


    <b>Here is a little flashback for you guys.</b>


    Damn.


    Is this what you guys see when you''re watching me?


    Because I have to say¡ªthis is insane.


    No, really. It¡¯s like a whole damn theater, complete with a stage, an audience, and the world¡¯s most dysfunctional cast of actors. And the best part? I¡¯m the star.


    Lucky me.


    I don¡¯t know what I expected when I let them take over. Maybe a blackout? A time skip? Some kind of out-of-body experience where I wake up only to find I¡¯ve committed war crimes in my sleep?


    Nope.


    I was here. Watching. Conscious. Fully aware.


    It was like stepping back from the wheel of a moving car¡ªexcept instead of another driver taking over, it was a bloodthirsty survival machine named Fang, whose only goals in life seemed to be eating, fighting, and making sure I didn¡¯t die.


    "Yup, now watch the guy who has the most raw strength and survivability among us," one of the voices said, casually, like we were all sitting down for a weekend movie night.


    And since I apparently had no control over my own life anymore, I did exactly that. I grabbed some popcorn and prepared to watch.


    Which, in hindsight, was a mistake.


    SMACK.


    A sharp pain exploded on the back of my head.


    I turned¡ªconfused, betrayed¡ªto find Solace, standing there with the most unimpressed expression I had ever seen.


    "Why are you grabbing and trying to eat my hand, you dumbhead?"


    Ah.


    So, apparently, the "popcorn" I had tried to grab wasn¡¯t actually popcorn¡ªit was Solace¡¯s hand.


    Honest mistake.


    But that was when I really saw them. Like, actually saw them. Before, they had just been voices¡ªbackground noise that had tormented me from the shadows. But now?


    They were real.


    Standing in front of me, clear as day.


    And let me tell you¡ªthey were weird.


    Solace looked almost exactly like me¡ªsame face, same height¡ªbut where I looked like someone who had just been thrown into a meat grinder, Solace looked like he owned the meat grinder and was three steps away from buying the entire company. His clothes were pristine, his posture perfect, and he had that confident, smug smile that made it very clear he thought he was at least seven steps ahead of everyone else.


    Then there was Asher.


    If Solace was the perfectionist mastermind, then Asher was the heroic angel. White shirt, golden trench coat, a look that screamed ¡®I have never committed a crime in my life.¡¯ The kind of person that would probably lecture you about morality while simultaneously breaking every law in the book.


    And then¡­ there was Riven.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Riven didn¡¯t belong here. No, seriously. If Solace and Asher looked like they were taken straight out of a psychological thriller, Riven looked like he had walked straight out of an ancient novel. Long coat, cane, top hat (why the hell did he have a top hat?), and this eerie, unnerving smile like he was watching a game that none of us knew we were playing.


    Oh, and there were three other guys, but I had no idea who they were, and quite frankly, I wasn¡¯t ready for that existential crisis yet.


    So, naturally, I pointed at them and asked:


    "So, there are seven of you guys?"


    Asher nodded. "Trust me. Seven is enough."


    That sounded ominous.


    "Mind explaining my situation while that hungry guy is doing his job?"


    I gestured vaguely towards Fang, who was currently eating like he had never seen food in his life. (Which, to be fair, was kind of true.)


    Solace smirked. "We could explain a lot, but we won¡¯t. You¡¯re not ready for it yet."


    I stared at him. "Not ready? What, am I in some kind of anime training arc? Is there a secret prophecy about me? Just tell me what¡¯s going on!"


    That was apparently the wrong thing to say.


    Because suddenly, an argument broke out.


    Again.


    At this point, I was already used to it.


    "What do you mean, he¡¯s not ready? There are no consequences to telling him¡ªwhy are you toying with him?" Asher snapped.


    "You¡¯re acting like knowledge isn¡¯t dangerous," Solace shot back. "Trust me. It is."


    "How about you trust me for once?"


    "How about you stop acting like you know everything?"


    "How about both of you shut up?"


    That last one wasn¡¯t me, by the way. That was Riven.


    And for some reason, that worked.


    The argument died instantly, like someone had flipped a switch.


    Riven turned to me, still smiling. "If you really want answers, ask Asher. He¡¯s the only one who bothers explaining things in a way that makes sense."


    That didn¡¯t sound comforting at all.


    But at this point, I didn¡¯t have a choice.


    So, I turned to Asher.


    He sighed. "Alright, fine. I¡¯ll explain."


    He took a step forward. His golden coat shimmered under an invisible light.


    And then he said the words that broke my brain.


    "We are you."


    I blinked. "¡­What?"


    "You heard me."


    "Yeah, I heard you. I just don¡¯t understand how you can say something that sounds both completely insane and vaguely threatening at the same time."


    Asher sighed. "Let me put it in simpler terms. We¡¯re not demons. We¡¯re not ghosts. We¡¯re not supernatural entities whispering into your brain."


    He pointed to himself. "I am you."


    Then to Solace. "He is you."


    Then to Riven. "He is also you."


    Then¡ªvaguely¡ªto the rest of them. "And so are they."


    I processed this information.


    And then, because I am a very mature, reasonable person, I said:


    "Bullshit."


    Asher gave me a look. "It¡¯s not bullshit. It¡¯s logic."


    "Oh, yeah? Explain the logic of why I have multiple people living inside my head!"


    "It¡¯s simple," Asher said. "When you experience different emotions, the side of you that¡¯s most compatible with that emotion takes over. It¡¯s not possession. It¡¯s not magic. It¡¯s just how the human mind works."


    I squinted. "That sounds fake."


    "It¡¯s not."


    "I still don¡¯t believe you."


    "I don¡¯t need you to believe me. You¡¯ll figure it out eventually."


    Great. Fantastic. That didn¡¯t answer any of my actual questions.


    But then¡ªjust as I was about to keep arguing¡ªAsher added something else.


    Asher¡¯s smile grew wider.


    "There does exist a power," he said, like he was revealing some grand cosmic truth.


    I sighed. "Of course there is. And let me guess¡ªit''s either completely useless or the key to some world-ending catastrophe?"


    Asher ignored me. "It¡¯s not a superpower. It¡¯s something that everyone has¡ªthe ability to mix with different possibilities."


    I frowned. "You¡¯re saying everyone has this?"


    "Yes," Asher nodded. "But your case is different."


    "Of course it is."


    I crossed my arms and leaned back, waiting for him to continue. I had already committed to this existential crisis¡ªmight as well see it through.


    "It¡¯s not genetic. It¡¯s not something you were born with. It¡¯s your soul¡¯s compatibility with different things," Asher explained. "Some people naturally attune to specific things. A gardener, for example, might have a strong connection to plants¡ªable to tell their condition just by looking at them. A manipulator, or even a clown, might instinctively understand people and their emotions in ways others can¡¯t."


    I blinked. "Did you just put gardeners, manipulators, and clowns in the same category?"


    "Yes."


    "¡­Okay, continue."


    "But then," Asher went on, "there are illogical connections. Things that shouldn¡¯t make sense but do. And your world? It doesn¡¯t understand those kinds of evolutions. Yet."


    I narrowed my eyes. "Yet?"


    Solace stepped forward, arms crossed. "Until now, the minimum compatibility needed to ¡®mix¡¯ with a different possibility was too high¡ªalmost impossible."


    "Okay¡­?" I prompted.


    "And then, eleven years ago¡­ it started to weaken."


    I frowned. "What happened eleven years ago?"


    Solace¡¯s expression turned unreadable. "The day you were born."


    ¡­


    Well.


    That wasn¡¯t ominous at all.


    "Wait," I said slowly, "you¡¯re telling me the rules of existence started breaking the day I was born?"


    "We don¡¯t know if it was because of you, or if you exist because of it," Asher admitted.


    Oh, great.


    Not only was I part of some existential nightmare, but now there was a chance I was either the cause of the apocalypse or just a really unfortunate side effect of it.


    "Wow. What a completely understandable and not at all terrifying explanation," I muttered.


    Solace ignored my sarcasm. "We have six months until the limit breaks completely."


    I froze. "What do you mean by ¡®limit¡¯ breaking?"


    Asher sighed. "Right now, people are still¡­ people."


    "Uh-huh."


    "But once the limit is gone, everyone will undergo a different kind of evolution. Some changes will be subtle. Some will be extreme. Some might not even remain human."


    I stared at him. "Oh, fantastic. So what you¡¯re saying is: in six months, the world is going to turn into a sci-fi horror movie?"


    "More or less."


    I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Of course it is."


    And just when I thought things couldn¡¯t get worse¡ª


    "And it won¡¯t just be your planet," Solace added.


    I paused.


    I very slowly lifted my head to look at him.


    "¡­What?"


    "This isn¡¯t limited to Earth," he said. "When the limit breaks, it will happen everywhere. Across planets, across galaxies¡ªevery world with life will change."


    "¡­You know what? I think I might just go back to sleep," I said, rubbing my temples. "Wake me up when reality starts making sense again."


    "You¡¯re handling this well," Asher noted.


    I shot him a deadpan glare. "No, I¡¯m just so overwhelmed that my brain has decided to stop working. There¡¯s a difference."


    Riven chuckled. "Then let me make it simple. The world is going to change. Some people will get stronger. Some will become monsters. Some will stay the same. And you?" He tilted his head. "You have the chance to decide what you become."


    That¡­ was not comforting.


    And it became even less comforting when Solace added:


    "And you need to prepare for it¡ªbecause if you don¡¯t, you¡¯ll get swept up in it like everyone else."


    I let out the longest sigh of my life.


    "Great. Just great. So not only do I have multiple people living in my head, but now I have to worry about some cosmic evolution event that may or may not turn half the population into literal monsters. Fantastic."


    "At least you¡¯re not alone," Asher offered.


    I gave him the most unimpressed stare I could muster.


    And then, because I had absolutely no energy left to process any more revelations, I sat down, crossed my arms, and muttered:


    "¡­I need a nap."


    Then, everything went black.

 Chapter 4: A Lesson in Madenss

    Chapter 4: A Lesson in Madness


    I kept my eyes closed. The commotion was going on, as always. Voices bickering, arguing, debating the nature of existence or whatever the hell they did when they weren¡¯t hijacking my body.


    But for once, I wasn¡¯t paying attention to them.


    Instead, I had one, very pressing thought circling in my head:


    Am I not taking this too lightly?


    I mean, really¡ªthink about it. I was just a kid. A kid who had been thrown into brutal events back-to-back, like life had decided, yeah, this one, let¡¯s see how much trauma he can handle before breaking.


    And now, on top of all of that, I¡¯d just learned that my entire world¡ªscratch that, the entire universe¡ªwas on the verge of some insane evolutionary shift.


    I should have been panicking. Screaming. Maybe having a full-blown breakdown.


    But instead?


    I was just sitting here, letting them lecture me like this was some kind of after-school special.


    It was time to take this seriously.


    So, for the first time since this madness started, I made my voice firm. Serious. No jokes, no sarcasm.


    ¡°This is too light of an explanation," I said. "Mind explaining more?¡±


    There was a pause. Then¡ª


    ¡°I agree,¡± Asher said, nodding. ¡°He¡¯s felt too much already. A half-explanation would be poison for him.¡± He turned to Solace. ¡°You know what to do, right?¡±


    Solace, who usually had that smug, entertained expression like he was enjoying watching me suffer, actually seemed¡­ thoughtful.


    ¡°I agree,¡± he said, mirroring Asher¡¯s words. ¡°The fun part is over. Now, we have to be serious about this.¡±


    Well. That was terrifying.


    When Solace¡ªthe guy who treated everything like a game¡ªwas saying things were serious, you knew things were bad.


    He crossed his arms. ¡°First of all, let¡¯s clear something up. We are not the evolution Asher was talking about. We are not some kind of power, and we are not a gift from some mystical force.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow. ¡°Could¡¯ve fooled me.¡±


    Solace ignored that. ¡°We can¡¯t just take over whenever we want. I mean, technically, we can, but that would take a ridiculous amount of power. For reference? It took eleven years of absorbing your potential just for three of us to take over for a few minutes.¡±


    That was¡­ concerning.


    ¡°So, what, you can¡¯t show up unless I let you?¡±


    ¡°Not exactly.¡± Solace tilted his head. ¡°We can come out without a power requirement, but only when you meet a certain condition.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°Condition?¡±


    He nodded. ¡°Each of us takes over based on compatibility¡ªwhatever side of you matches the situation best.¡±


    Great. More vague explanations.


    ¡°Alright,¡± I said, crossing my arms. ¡°What¡¯s the second thing?¡±


    Solace¡¯s gaze darkened. ¡°You need to improve.¡±


    That actually caught me off guard.


    ¡°¡­What?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a child,¡± he said bluntly. ¡°And from now on, you¡¯re going to be fighting adults.¡±


    I opened my mouth, closed it, and then ran that sentence through my brain again just to make sure I¡¯d heard it right.


    ¡°Wait, wait, what?!¡±


    ¡°You heard me.¡± Solace¡¯s tone was completely serious. ¡°Right now, you¡¯re weak. But six months from now? It won¡¯t just be adults you¡¯ll have to worry about.¡±Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    My stomach twisted.


    That sounded bad.


    ¡°¡­Six months?¡± I repeated.


    ¡°That¡¯s the time limit,¡± Asher confirmed. ¡°That¡¯s when everything changes.¡±


    Oh, fantastic. No pressure.


    I exhaled. ¡°Alright. Fine. What¡¯s the third thing?¡±


    Solace nodded, like he was glad I was keeping up. ¡°The third thing is about the power I mentioned earlier.¡±


    ¡°You mean the ¡®mixing with possibilities¡¯ thing?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Call it whatever you want,¡± Solace said. ¡°But we seven call it Compatibility.¡±


    I tilted my head. ¡°Compatibility?¡±


    ¡°Everyone has it,¡± he continued. ¡°And they always will. Even after the shift in six months. The only difference?¡± He smirked. ¡°It¡¯s going to increase. To a level that¡¯s completely incomparable to before.¡±


    I processed that. ¡°So¡­ you¡¯re saying everyone¡¯s going to become superpowered?¡±


    "Sometimes," Solace admitted. "But there¡¯s more to it than that."


    He glanced at Asher before continuing.


    "Then there are cases where Compatibility goes beyond what makes sense. A doctor who can diagnose an illness just by looking at someone. A gambler who instinctively knows when the odds will shift. A soldier who can react to danger before it even happens. Things that shouldn¡¯t be possible¡­ but are."


    "Alright," I said. "That actually sounds useful. But what does this have to do with me?"


    Solace¡¯s expression darkened.


    "Your case is different."


    Of course it was.


    "Your Compatibility isn¡¯t tied to a single talent or skill. It¡¯s tied to us."


    I blinked. "¡­What?"


    "Your ability isn¡¯t about enhancing what you already have. It¡¯s about who you can become."


    I frowned. "That¡¯s not an explanation."


    Solace sighed. "Your Compatibility allows you to shift between different aspects of yourself. Most people only have one core personality, so their Compatibility focuses on one thing. But you? You have seven of us. Each with our own strengths, weaknesses, and specialties."


    I processed that for a second.


    Then another second.


    Then another.


    And then, finally, I said what any reasonable person would say in this situation:


    "That¡¯s complete bullshit."


    Asher rolled his eyes. "You keep saying that, but reality doesn¡¯t care whether you believe it or not."


    "Okay, then prove it," I challenged.


    Solace smirked. "You¡¯ve already felt it, haven¡¯t you? When Fang took over? That was Compatibility in action."


    I wanted to argue. I really did. But the more I thought about it¡­


    He wasn¡¯t wrong.


    I had felt it.


    That surge of instinct. That unnatural clarity. That shift in control.


    It wasn¡¯t possession. It wasn¡¯t something taking me over.


    It was me.


    A different part of me.


    Solace must have seen the realization on my face, because his smirk widened.


    "Now you get it," he said. "And in six months, everyone will have a shift like that. Some subtle. Some extreme. Some¡­" He trailed off. "¡­won¡¯t even remain human."


    I immediately zeroed in on that last part.


    "Wait. What the hell do you mean by that?"


    Solace didn¡¯t answer.


    Instead, Asher spoke, his voice low.


    "The evolution isn¡¯t just about getting stronger. It¡¯s about survival. Some people will adapt. Some will lose themselves in the process. And some¡­ won¡¯t be human anymore."


    I stared at him. "You¡¯re saying some people are going to turn into monsters?"


    "Not exactly. But close enough."


    Great. Fantastic. Absolutely wonderful.


    I ran a hand down my face. "And let me guess¡ªif I don¡¯t get stronger, I won¡¯t be able to do anything about it?"


    Solace nodded. "Exactly. Which is why you need to start taking this seriously."


    I let out the longest sigh of my life.


    "Yeah. I got that part loud and clear."


    Solace clapped his hands together. "Good. Then let¡¯s get to work."


    Chapter 4, Part 2: The Art of Not Dying Horribly


    Now, let me ask you a question.


    What do you think was going to happen next?


    Escape? A grand chase? Some earth-shattering revelation?


    Wrong.


    It was a training arc.


    And not just any training arc. Not the standard push-ups, sit-ups, and a healthy dose of suffering variety. No, this was something entirely different. Something I was absolutely not prepared for.


    And the worst part? Neither were the voices.


    Step One: Digest the Impossible


    Before we even got to the whole "training" part, Solace decided to drop yet another bombshell on me.


    "Fang is done," he announced. "He ate enough that you can last a month without food."


    I blinked. "A month¡¯s worth of food is inside my stomach right now?"


    "Yes," Solace confirmed.


    I looked down at myself. My stomach was still¡­ normal? No distended belly, no feeling of being absurdly full. Just the same vaguely underfed frame I¡¯d been rocking since childhood.


    I frowned. "Are you guys finally going insane?"


    "Not this time," Asher said. "Your body adapted. You have small buffs¡ªnothing ridiculous, but it''s a step forward."


    "Small buffs," I repeated. "As in, I just casually store food like a camel now?"


    Solace shrugged. "Apparently."


    I opened my mouth, then closed it. Then opened it again.


    I had nothing.


    Absolutely nothing.


    At this point, questioning reality felt like wasted effort.


    ---


    Step Two: Find a City, Find a Plan


    "Alright," I said, forcing my focus back. "Exactly how am I supposed to get stronger?"


    Asher was the first to respond. "First, we have to get out of here."


    That¡­ was a good point.


    I suddenly realized I had no idea where we even were.


    I looked around at the dimly lit alley, the damp concrete, and the overwhelming smell of questionable decisions.


    "Where is here?" I asked.


    Riven sighed. "Ask that to the person who brought you here."


    Everyone¡¯s head tilted toward a certain figure.


    Cue dramatic reveal.


    A deep, demonic voice rumbled, laced with just enough menace to send shivers down my spine.


    "...What?"


    Oh.


    Fang.


    "I just went in search of food," he growled. "You better not blame me for this."


    I pinched the bridge of my nose. "So you¡¯re telling me we¡¯re in some back-alley trash heap because you wanted a snack?"


    "Correct."


    Solace sighed. "Who else would we blame?"


    Fang let out a low, annoyed growl. "If you want to leave, I saw a city about ten minutes from here."


    "Great," Solace said. "Then get moving."


    I rolled my eyes. "I know that already."


    And with that, I took control of my body again.


    Step Three: Adapt or Get Mocked to Death


    What do you think I did after regaining control?


    Heroic escape? Tactical planning?


    No.


    I spent ten whole minutes listening to Solace nag me to death while I ran tirelessly through the streets.


    And here¡¯s the weirdest part¡ª


    I wasn¡¯t tired.


    Not even a little.


    It was like my body had forgotten what exhaustion was. My legs moved effortlessly, my breathing remained steady, and my heart barely registered the effort.


    It should have felt amazing.


    Instead, I was terrified.


    This wasn¡¯t normal.


    But before I could freak out too much, I saw something familiar¡ªa supermarket.


    I skidded to a stop. "There¡¯s a store here."


    The decision was instant. I walked inside.


    And immediately regretted it.


    Because the moment I stepped through the doors, something became painfully clear.


    I stunk.


    Not "I forgot to shower today" stunk. Not even "I ran a marathon and forgot deodorant" stunk.


    No.


    This was "I have been living in a dumpster and might actually qualify as biohazardous waste" levels of stink.


    People were staring.


    Solace, never one to miss an opportunity, snorted. "What else did you expect, you walking health violation?"


    I didn¡¯t even argue. I just turned to the nearest employee and asked, "Where¡¯s the restroom?"


    They pointed. I practically sprinted there.


    Step Four: The Mirror Never Lies


    I walked into the restroom, shut the door, and finally¡ªfinally¡ªlooked at myself.


    And let me tell you¡ª


    I was not prepared.


    The person staring back at me?


    That was not me.


    I mean, technically, sure, it was me. But this version of me? This was an entirely different species of attractive.


    I didn¡¯t look like an adult, but I didn¡¯t quite look like a kid anymore either. Late teens, maybe. Still young, but just enough maturity to be dangerously appealing.


    And the features.


    I wasn¡¯t just good-looking¡ªI was unfairly good-looking.


    The kind of face that belonged on magazine covers. The kind of face that got away with murder because the jury couldn¡¯t believe someone this gorgeous could be guilty.


    Three words slipped out before I could stop them.


    "Is this me?"


    There was a pause.


    Then Asher, ever the wise mentor, said, "That¡¯s your reward for enduring your pain. Enjoy it."


    I should have been happy.


    I should have been ecstatic.


    Instead, I felt deeply, deeply unsettled.


    Because this wasn¡¯t just a glow-up.


    This was a transformation.


    And if my body could change this much¡­


    What else was going to change?


    Solace hummed. "I guess charm does come in handy when manipulating someone."


    I turned away from the mirror.


    Yeah.


    This was just the beginning.


    And I had a feeling things were about to get much, much weirder.

 Chapter 5: Hmm Its Definitely Surprising

    I stood there in the middle of the mall, staring at my reflection in a polished store window.


    "Is this even me anymore?" I muttered. "Am I turning into a monster?"


    My voice wasn¡¯t panicked¡ªjust¡­ exhausted. Because let¡¯s be honest, at this point, what even was my life? I had voices in my head, an overpowered metabolism, and the kind of face that made people double-take in disbelief. Oh, and apparently, I now had the ability to survive a month without food.


    Which was a cool superpower, I guess? If I ignored the disturbing implications.


    Solace, always helpful, scoffed. "You''re doing something dumb. Use it instead of complaining."


    Riven, never missing a chance to insult me, chimed in. "I doubt it¡¯s useful. You still have the brain of a donkey."


    Ah yes, classic encouragement from my beloved inner demons. I definitely felt supported.


    Asher, on the other hand, said nothing. No insult. No compliment. Just neutral observation, like he was watching a documentary about an idiot in his natural habitat. Honestly? I preferred that over the others.


    I sighed, rubbing my temples. "I¡¯ll think about this later."


    Step One: Money


    One problem at a time. First, I needed money. Clothes, shelter, food¡ªnot that I apparently needed that last one anytime soon.


    That¡¯s when an unexpected voice spoke.


    "Well, while I was hunting for food, I stole the belongings of the prey as well."


    Silence.


    Slowly, like in a horror movie, everyone¡¯s attention turned toward the obvious culprit. Fang.


    This time, instead of glares of disapproval, something different appeared on their faces. Hope.


    Me? Not so much.


    "Wait¡­ you committed cannibalism?" I asked, horrified.


    Fang tilted his head. "Can-in-ball what?"


    Oh, great. He didn¡¯t even know what it meant. That made it worse.


    I turned to Asher, the only one who still had some level of sanity. "Are you really okay with this?"


    Asher nodded, completely unfazed. "I¡¯m only nice to innocents."


    "Okay, but how can you be sure they were guilty?"


    Asher gave me a look. "And you thought I was going to let Fang hunt someone who wasn¡¯t?"


    ¡­


    Oh.


    Right.


    Because somehow, despite being an eldritch nightmare of a personality, Asher had morals. Twisted, ruthless morals, but still.


    A slow, horrifying realization crept into my mind.


    None of them were sane. Not a single one.


    I sighed, defeated. "I give up."


    Checking my pocket, I found a surprisingly generous amount of money¡ªenough to last me a few months, at least.


    Well. That solved one problem.


    Step Two: Clothing and Stealth


    Now, onto the next issue: I looked like a homeless man who had just crawled out of a dumpster. Because, well¡­ I had just crawled out of a dumpster.


    I made my way into a clothing store, making sure to keep my head down.


    Solace¡¯s voice echoed in my head. "Be stealthy."


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    I nodded internally. Yes. Stealth. A masterclass in blending in.


    So, naturally, I proceeded to be the most suspicious-looking person ever.


    I grabbed clothes in record time, darting through aisles like a raccoon on caffeine. An employee eyed me warily. I smiled. That probably made it worse.


    But hey, I didn¡¯t get caught. Paid for the clothes, grabbed a bag, and left.


    Mission success.


    Step Three: A Place to Stay


    After getting changed, I wandered the streets, eventually spotting a hotel that looked decent enough.


    I walked inside, heading toward the reception desk.


    That¡¯s when the receptionist¡ªa tired-looking man in his late forties¡ªraised an eyebrow. "Excuse me, sir. Do you have a reservation?"


    Before I could answer, I felt a shift.


    A familiar, unwelcome pull.


    "It''s my time," Solace said.


    Oh no.


    And just like that, I was yanked into the Theater of Madness.


    I found myself in the usual dark void, watching from the audience seats as my own body moved without my input.


    Riven leaned back, smirking. "Let¡¯s predict what he¡¯s going to do."


    "No one cares," Asher replied.


    I watched as Solace, now in control, casually slid a hand into our pocket.


    For a moment, I panicked. "Wait¡ªhe¡¯s not about to kill the guy, is he?!"


    Then, to my absolute shock, Solace did not, in fact, commit murder.


    Instead, he pulled out a wad of cash and tossed it onto the counter.


    "Shut the fuck up. Where''s my room?"


    The receptionist blinked.


    Then, very slowly, he looked at the money.


    His skepticism evaporated.


    "Fourth floor, Room 13."


    Solace nodded, grabbing the key card and heading toward the elevator like he owned the place.


    Back in the Theater, Solace turned to me with a smirk. "And that, dear protagonist, is how you handle things."


    The control snapped back to me as I entered the elevator.


    Step Four: The Hunger


    I stepped into the room, locking the door behind me. Finally, some peace¡ª


    My stomach twisted.


    A sudden, overwhelming hunger hit me like a truck. Not the normal "I could eat something" kind of hunger. No. This was different.


    It was like my entire body was screaming for something.


    Not food. Not water. Something else.


    "Oh," Solace mused. "So it finally kicks in."


    I gritted my teeth. "What the hell is this?"


    Asher, always the voice of reason, answered. "It¡¯s the cost of Compatibility. You¡¯re adapting to Fang¡¯s shift."


    "Adapting?"


    "Your body changed. Your metabolism, your strength, your instincts. But energy doesn''t come from nothing."


    I clutched my stomach, feeling something pulse inside me.


    "So," I muttered, voice strained, "what do I do?"


    A pause.


    Then, Riven chuckled. "Simple. You hunt."


    Oh.


    Oh no.


    I swallowed hard.


    "You mean¡ª"


    "Not humans, idiot," Solace interrupted. "You need something¡­ special."


    I exhaled, gripping the wall.


    Of course.


    Because nothing in my life could ever be normal.


    I glanced out the window, the city lights stretching endlessly.


    I needed to figure this out. Fast.


    Because if I didn¡¯t¡­


    This hunger was going to consume me.


    Chapter 5: A Hunger for Madness (Part 2)


    I tried to sleep.


    Keyword: tried.


    Because you know what¡¯s really great for insomnia? Having four voices in your head arguing like a jury debating a murder trial.


    "I don¡¯t see why he needs sleep," Riven muttered. "With all the changes happening, rest is inefficient. Adaptation should be immediate."


    Solace sighed. "He¡¯s still human. More or less."


    "He doesn¡¯t feel very human," Asher added, his voice unsettlingly neutral. "Not with that hunger gnawing at him."


    Ah, yes. The hunger.


    That black hole inside me, swallowing everything else. It wasn¡¯t the usual kind¡ªthe kind where you think about food and suddenly you¡¯re starving. No, this was deeper. Like something in me was unraveling, cell by cell, screaming for something it couldn¡¯t name.


    I turned onto my side, gripping my stomach. It was getting worse.


    "Can¡¯t he just eat something normal?" Fang asked. "Meat, maybe? A little blood?"


    I gagged. "Absolutely not."


    Asher, of course, had a much more Asher response. "If Vail or Daze were here, he could feed off negative energy. Or stagnation. Something non-physical."


    I shot up, stomach twisting. "What? You''re telling me I could¡¯ve been living off bad vibes this whole time instead of feeling like I¡¯m being eaten from the inside out?"


    Riven chuckled. "Yes, but you haven¡¯t learned to absorb emotions yet."


    Oh, fantastic.


    I needed to move. Sitting here, trying to suppress whatever primal instinct was clawing at my insides, wasn¡¯t working.


    I grabbed my coat and stumbled toward the door.


    "Where are you going?" Solace asked.


    "To find something. Anything."


    I barely heard their responses as I stepped outside. The city stretched before me, neon lights flickering, streets wet from an earlier rain. The cold air did nothing to dull the hunger. If anything, it made it worse.


    Something inside me was desperate¡ªstarving.


    And if I didn¡¯t find an energy source soon¡­


    I wasn¡¯t sure what would happen.


    The Blackout


    The city pulsed with energy. The buzzing of streetlights. The hum of traffic. All of it noise, but beneath that noise, I could feel it.


    Power.


    I staggered toward a streetlamp, pressing a trembling hand against the cold metal.


    And then¡ª


    It hit me.


    An absurd amount of energy surged into my body, slamming through my veins like a live wire.


    My vision went white.


    Electricity crackled through my skin, rushing into every fiber of my being.


    And then¡ª


    Complete.


    Utter.


    Darkness.


    The entire city lost power.


    Aftermath


    I collapsed to my knees, gasping.


    "Well," Solace mused, "I suppose electricity counts as energy, too."


    "You think?" I rasped. My body still tingled, muscles trembling from the sheer force of what had just happened.


    For the first time in what felt like hours, the hunger was gone.


    Not just dulled¡ªcompletely gone.


    Riven let out a low whistle. "You just drained an entire city block. Impressive."


    I looked up, seeing nothing but pitch-black streets and the distant wail of sirens. People were shouting in confusion.


    "Okay," I admitted, still panting. "That was¡­ something."


    Solace chuckled. "Yes. And now? You have some explaining to do."


    The Aftermath


    I crouched there, still trembling from the sheer force of what had just happened. The city was pitch-black, the only light coming from distant emergency signs and the red glow of brake lights as cars screeched to a confused halt.


    Then¡ªlike a switch being flipped¡ªthe power surged back.


    Streetlights flickered, humming back to life. Neon signs reignited, bathing the streets in artificial colors. The wail of sirens became sharper, the city jolting awake after an unexpected blackout.


    And me? I was still kneeling by the pole, my fingers tingling, my body feeling¡ªoddly full. Satisfied.


    Which was so not reassuring.


    I pushed myself up, shaking off the dizziness. "Alright. Crisis over. Time to leave before someone asks questions."


    I started walking, keeping my head down as I made my way back to the hotel. The voices, for once, were silent. Well, except for Asher, who muttered, "We should test this further."


    No. Absolutely not. No more random energy siphoning today.


    I made it to my room without incident, shutting the door behind me. The moment I locked it, the conversation began.


    "Okay," I exhaled, leaning against the wall. "Question. In six months, when whatever this ¡®evolution¡¯ thing happens¡­ are people just going to be draining entire cities like I just did? Because there are eight billion people, not counting animals, and I don¡¯t think the world¡¯s infrastructure is built for that level of power outage."


    Solace actually laughed. Laughed.


    "Not particularly," he said. "By then, the limit will be gone."


    I frowned. "The limit?"


    Solace nodded. "Right now, energy has restrictions. People need food. Need rest. Need external sources. But once evolution kicks in, those restrictions will change. Anything capable of holding energy will¡ªhold energy. Even the air around you will be enough to supply all living beings."


    I stared at him¡ªwell, not at him, but at the mental space where his presence lingered.


    "So you''re telling me," I said slowly, "that people won''t even need food anymore? Or electricity?"


    Riven chuckled. "Not in the way you understand it."


    I sat down on the bed, trying to wrap my head around it. "Then¡­ what happens to everything else? Factories? Power plants? The economy?"


    Asher hummed. "Some will adapt. Others will become obsolete."


    Oh. Oh, that was not ominous at all.


    I let out a breath, rubbing my temples. "Great. So in six months, reality as we know it is going to flip upside down. No more hunger, no more energy shortages, and I won¡¯t have to drain a city just to stop myself from collapsing."


    "More or less," Solace said.


    I groaned. "Yeah, that doesn¡¯t make me feel better."


    A pause. Then Fang, who had been quiet until now, muttered, "At least you won¡¯t starve to death before then."


    Wow. So reassuring.


    I sighed, flopping onto the bed.


    Six months.


    Six months until the entire world changed.


    I had no idea if that was a good thing or the beginning of something worse.


    R

 Chapter 6 part: The Rules of Insanity

    Chapter 6, Part 1: The Rules of Insanity


    Finally, sleep. Blessed, uninterrupted, well-deserved sleep.


    Not because I was exhausted. Not because my body needed it. But because I wanted to. After everything, my body needed time to process whatever the hell I had absorbed.


    And, more importantly, I needed time away from the lunatics in my head.


    Unfortunately, peace was a temporary privilege.


    The moment I woke up, they were at it again.


    Voices overlapping, arguing, debating¡ªsomething about "who had the best plan" or "who was the superior aspect of my psyche." I groaned, rubbing my eyes.


    "Are you guys done arguing?" I muttered.


    Asher, ever the responsible one, sighed. "Oh, good. You¡¯re awake." He didn¡¯t sound thrilled about it, which was fair. Neither was I. "Now it¡¯s time for training."


    Training? Already? I had just woken up.


    "What kind of training?" I asked, suspicious.


    Solace took the lead. "First, get fresh."


    A simple enough request.


    With an exaggerated sigh, I dragged myself to the bathroom. A hot shower later, I emerged looking and feeling significantly more human. Or whatever it was I had become.


    Now nice and tidy, I plopped onto the floor. "Alright. Hit me with it. What am I learning?"


    "Get into a meditation position," Solace instructed.


    Oh. Meditation. That didn¡¯t sound too bad.


    I adjusted myself, sitting cross-legged, and smirked. "Ohhh, is this it? Am I finally going to start gathering energy from the air? Is this where my hidden talent finally kicks in?"


    Solace, bless his patience, immediately shot me down. "No, dumbass."


    Ouch.


    "You¡¯re just going to focus and listen to what I¡¯m about to tell you."


    I sighed dramatically. "Fine, fine. Enlighten me, oh wise mentor."


    Solace ignored my sarcasm and continued.


    "First, let¡¯s go over the rules."


    The Rules of Survival (According to Solace, the Supreme Know-It-All)


    Rule #1: Survive.


    Rule #2: Don¡¯t die.


    I stared at him, unimpressed. "Are you kidding me?"


    "Do I look like I¡¯m kidding?"


    "Yes."


    "Too bad. Moving on."


    Let¡¯s pause for a second.


    You¡¯ve been following along, haven¡¯t you? Watching me stumble through this madness, listening to the voices in my head, witnessing me drain a whole city¡¯s power supply like some kind of electrical vampire.


    But you never once stopped to ask¡ªwho the hell am I?


    It¡¯s funny, really. You¡¯ve been so caught up in my story, so entertained by my suffering, that you never even questioned the name of the poor bastard living through all this.


    Arthur. Arthur Cain.


    Arthur, because that¡¯s what my brother decided to call me. Cain, because that¡¯s his name¡ªthe only real thing I ever had from him.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    And now that we¡¯ve got that out of the way, let¡¯s get back to the part where I question my life choices.


    Solace sighed, clearly unamused. "Now that the ¡®honorable mentions¡¯ are out of the way, let¡¯s continue."


    Rule #1: "You don¡¯t need to eat food anymore. But you can if you want to."


    Oh. That was... unsettling.


    "But I can still taste food, right?"


    Solace rolled his eyes. "Yes, Arthur. You can still taste food."


    "Okay, good. Because I am not giving up on eating just because my biology decided to go full sci-fi on me."


    Rule #2: "Your food source is energy now."


    I nodded. "Right, I already figured that much out."


    Solace continued. "Energy can come from anywhere¡ªelectricity, emotions, kinetic force. And in six months, once the limit fully breaks, even the air will be enough to sustain you."


    ¡­Huh. That was kind of terrifying.


    "Wait. Hold on." I narrowed my eyes. "So, in six months, people are just gonna start passively absorbing energy? Like some sort of cosmic photosynthesis?"


    Solace smirked. "More or less."


    I blinked. "That sounds¡­ both awesome and disastrous. What¡¯s stopping people from accidentally draining entire atmosphere?"


    "As evolution progresses, things will adapt. Right now, energy flows inefficiently. But once the limit is gone, everything capable of holding energy will do so naturally. You won¡¯t need to drain a entire atmosphere just to stay standing¡ªenergy will just¡­ exist, all around you."


    I took a moment to process that.


    "So¡­ reality¡¯s about to get a massive software update."


    "Essentially."


    I exhaled. "Right. Because rewriting the laws of existence always goes smoothly."


    Rule #3: "The more energy you absorb, the stronger you and we become."


    Ah. The classic power-scaling system.


    "So¡­ I¡¯m basically a walking battery," I muttered.


    "More like a bottomless pit that can be trained to become an infinite power source," Solace corrected.


    Riven snickered. "Or a parasite that feeds on everything around him."


    I shot him a glare. "Gee, thanks for that image."


    Rule #4: "Overconsumption has side effects."


    I frowned. "Side effects?"


    Solace¡¯s tone darkened slightly. "You¡¯ll learn them automatically if you get too greedy."


    Oh, fantastic. So, no clear explanation¡ªjust ¡®figure it out the hard way.¡¯


    I crossed my arms. "You guys love being cryptic for no reason."


    Solace smirked. "It¡¯s more fun this way."


    I hated that he was enjoying this.


    The Last Warning


    Before I could process any further existential horror, Riven spoke up.


    "One last thing," he said. "You aren¡¯t the only one with an early awakening."


    That got my attention.


    I sat up straighter. "Wait, what?"


    "If someone experienced a life-changing event around the time you were born¡ªor more specifically, around the time the limit started breaking¡ªthey could already be using their abilities. Even if they don¡¯t understand what they are."


    I blinked.


    "¡­So you¡¯re telling me there are other people like me out there?"


    "Yes," Riven confirmed. "Though most won¡¯t know it yet."


    Well. That changed things.


    Because if there were others out there¡ªpeople unknowingly developing powers, going through changes like I was¡ªthen that meant I wasn¡¯t just dealing with my transformation anymore.


    The world was about to get a lot more complicated.


    And something told me¡­


    This was just the beginning.


    Chapter 6, Part 2: Learning to Not Die Horribly


    "Hey, stupid. Start focusing now."


    Now, normally, I''d be offended at this kind of greeting, but given that Solace was the one speaking, this was actually one of his more affectionate introductions.


    "Let me tell you how to get stronger," Solace continued, his tone carrying the weight of an impending lecture.


    Ah, yes. The grand tutorial moment. The moment where everything clicks, and I unlock my hidden potential. The moment where¡ª


    "First of all," he cut in, interrupting my internal monologue, "depending on your Compatibility, you can learn different Links from us."


    I blinked. "I¡¯m going to need you to explain that like I¡¯m five."


    "Basically, we pass over mastery of what we are proficient in to you."


    There was a beat of silence as I processed that.


    "Wait¡­ is that my overpowered ability?" I asked, the grin already forming. "I knew it. How could I not be extraordinary? Haha!"


    Solace sighed the sigh of a tired parent dealing with a child who just discovered sugar. "There are two major flaws."


    Oh. Here comes the fine print.


    "First," he said, "if you lean too heavily toward one side, you inherit their weaknesses, too. And by weaknesses, I don¡¯t mean minor inconveniences. I mean crippling flaws that can and will get you killed."


    Okay, that sounded less fun.


    "So leaning too much is a taboo," I summarized. "Got it. Don¡¯t become a one-trick pony."


    "Second," he continued, "your physique needs to be able to handle the mastery. If your body isn¡¯t conditioned for it, the Link will backfire."


    "¡­Backfire how?"


    "Imagine trying to carry a mountain with twigs for arms," Solace deadpanned.


    "Ah," I said wisely. "So, instant and very painful failure. Fantastic."


    "That¡¯s why the first Link you should learn is Fang¡¯s."


    I hesitated. "Are we sure that¡¯s a good idea?"


    Fang growled, clearly insulted.


    "Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re scared," Solace taunted.


    "Of course not!" I scoffed. "I just¡ªuh¡ªlogically have concerns about trusting my well-being to a guy whose solution to most problems is ¡®bite harder.¡¯"


    Fang let out a low, irritated growl.


    I sighed. "Fine, explain more."


    "Learn it yourself," Fang snapped.


    I groaned. "Why do I even ask?"


    Still, curiosity won over. "Alright, what¡¯s the first skill?"


    "Recovery," Fang said.


    I stared at him. "Wait. Recovery? As in, healing? Isn¡¯t that, like, a mid-to-late game skill?"


    Solace sighed again, and I could feel the disappointment. "Get a grip, boy. This isn¡¯t some story you¡¯re reading. This is reality."


    Harsh. But fair.


    "Okay, okay," I muttered. "So how do I learn it?"


    Fang¡¯s answer was immediate.


    "Get up."


    I got up.


    "Go to the kitchen."


    I went to the kitchen.


    "Grab a knife."


    I grabbed a knife.


    "Now stab yourself."


    I froze. "Wait. What?"


    "You heard him," Solace said, utterly unhelpful.


    I laughed nervously. "Haha. Okay. Funny joke, guys. Real hilarious. Now, what am I actually supposed to do?"


    "Stab yourself."


    Oh, they were serious.


    "You see," I said slowly, "I knew you were all insane, but this is really cementing it for me."


    "Question nothing," Solace ordered. "There is a possibility of reviving your brother¡ªbut only if you¡¯re strong enough."


    My mind blanked.


    My brother.


    If there was even a chance of bringing him back¡­


    I set my jaw. I tightened my grip on the knife.


    And yet.


    My hands wouldn¡¯t move.


    Because despite everything, I was still a child. A child with survival instincts. A child who knew that stabbing oneself wasn¡¯t typically a good idea.


    The room fell silent.


    And then I understood.


    I took a breath.


    Then¡ª


    A sharp pain shot through me as the blade punctured skin.


    The sound of tearing flesh filled my ears.


    Blood welled up, spilling over my fingers.


    Fang''s voice cut through the haze of pain.


    "Quickly. Position."


    I collapsed onto the floor, my breathing ragged. Blood seeped out, hot and relentless.


    "Now," Fang said. "Imagine your blood forming a wall, not a river."


    My mind scrambled for an image.


    Stopping a pierced water tank with duct tape?


    "Whatever works," Solace said. "Do it. Fast."


    I pushed the image into my mind.


    The bleeding¡­ slowed.


    But not fast enough.


    Dizziness hit me. Nausea churned in my stomach. My vision blurred.


    Blood loss was not a fun experience.


    "W-what¡¯s the next st¡ª"


    "Imagine the tissue reconstructing," Fang ordered.


    I gritted my teeth. I focused.


    At first, nothing happened. My mind screamed in protest. This wasn¡¯t how bodies worked.


    But then¡­


    Tiny sparks of sensation flickered beneath my skin.


    Something was knitting itself back together.


    The voices murmured in approval.


    "Now," Fang said, "breathe. But not from your lungs¡ªfrom your stomach. Imagine air moving through you."


    I sucked in a breath.


    Slow. Deep.


    The pain dulled.


    The nausea faded.


    I blinked in awe.


    "Wow, thi¡ª"


    And then I collapsed.


    I wasn¡¯t unconscious, not fully. But I couldn¡¯t move.


    I could still hear them, though.


    "How is this even believable to you guys?"


    "Yup. Definitely surprising."


    Then a low, monstrous voice spoke.


    "He¡¯s awake."


    The chatter stopped.


    I groaned. "Fang, you are such a great teacher."


    Fang grunted.


    "Seriously," I continued, "thanks. Without you, I never would¡¯ve done that."


    Solace sighed, bitter as ever.


    "I doubt that."

 Chapter 7: A lesson in Burning & Learning

    Chapter 7, Part 1: A Lesson in Burning and Learning


    You ever wake up feeling like you''ve been hit by a truck? No? Well, let me tell you¡ªit¡¯s an experience. One I would not recommend.


    I groaned as I blinked awake, every muscle in my body screaming in protest. It was as if my limbs had collectively decided, "Yeah, we¡¯re done working for you." My head spun, my body felt like an overcooked noodle, and honestly, if I were any weaker, I¡¯d be mistaken for a corpse.


    "Did you think the price of learning would be less?" Solace¡¯s voice echoed in my head, smug as ever. "And Fang¡¯s Link is the easiest one you could learn. That¡¯s why it was the first Link."


    Oh, good. So stabbing myself and almost dying was easy. That was comforting.


    "Yeah, sure, easy," I mumbled, voice hoarse. "Let me guess¡ªnext time, I just have to set myself on fire?"


    "I mean, technically¡ª" Asher started.


    "Shut up," I cut him off.


    I tried to move, but my body protested. My limbs felt like they were made of lead, and my head was doing its best impression of a spinning carnival ride.


    "Horrible example," Riven muttered.


    "I know," I groaned.


    Fang, ever the supportive one, decided to kick me while I was down. "You did everything wrongly and without a proper approach. It wouldn¡¯t be a surprise if you were already dead."


    "Great pep talk, thanks."


    "Enough," Solace interrupted. "You used Recovery so inefficiently that a second more and you would¡¯ve been dead."


    I flopped onto my back, staring at the ceiling. "So noted. Will try to avoid stabbing myself to death next time."


    Solace sighed. "Everything related to Compatibility requires energy. That includes you."


    I exhaled. "So what should I do? Drain the city¡¯s energy again?"


    "No," Solace snapped. "Doing it a second time would only confirm the suspicions of anyone who already suspects that someone is using Compatibility here."


    Ah. Right. That would be bad.


    I felt a familiar ache in my stomach¡ªa double-edged hunger. One for food, one for energy.


    "Your first priority should be food," Solace said. "Then, we figure out the energy situation."


    "Fine, fine," I muttered. "I¡¯ll find a restaurant."


    Getting Back on My Feet (Again)


    It took an embarrassing amount of time to get up. My legs wobbled like I¡¯d just run a marathon¡ªbackwards, uphill, while carrying a refrigerator.


    I showered again, because waking up in a pool of my own dried blood was not the kind of morning routine I wanted. Then, I threw on some fresh clothes, ran my fingers through my messy hair, and stepped outside.


    Once again, the stares followed.


    I sighed dramatically and stretched. "I¡¯m really not used to this level of attention," I said, loud enough for the bystanders to hear. "It¡¯s too much for me, really."


    "Shameless," Riven muttered.


    "Adapt or perish, my friend."


    I made my way to the restaurant¡ªyes, that restaurant. The one where I almost lost my mind from hunger. Ah, memories.


    As I stepped in, I could feel eyes on me again. Whether it was paranoia or reality, I didn¡¯t care. I sat, ordered a ridiculous amount of food, and got to work on refueling my poor, abused body.


    Bite after bite, I felt life return to me. The dull ache in my muscles eased, and my head felt less like a malfunctioning amusement park ride. I was starting to think, "Hey, maybe today won¡¯t be so bad."


    Then I heard it.


    The unmistakable wail of a fire truck.


    Curiosity Killed the¡­ Wait, That¡¯s Me


    I turned my head, watching the fire truck speed past with sirens blaring. People murmured, watching it go, but I was already moving.


    "Oh? Already running again?" Solace mused.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    I smirked, pushing forward. "Gotta say, your little possession moment did leave some perks."


    "You¡¯re welcome," Solace replied, oh so smugly.


    "Mind explaining what¡¯s happening?" Asher chimed in.


    I rolled my eyes. "What does a fire truck do?"


    "Put out fires."


    "And what is fire?"


    There was a brief pause.


    "Ah," Asher murmured. "I see."


    I reached the scene quickly, and sure enough¡ªthere it was. A large supermarket, completely engulfed in flames.


    Burning Questions


    People stood at a safe distance, whispering about what happened. I caught bits of conversation¡ªsomething about "arson," "an explosion," and "someone must¡¯ve done this on purpose."


    Interesting.


    The fire raged, consuming everything in its path. It roared, alive and hungry. And me? I stood there, staring at it like a man eyeing a buffet.


    Fire was energy.


    Which meant I could eat it.


    I took a deep breath and focused, reaching out with Compatibility.


    At first, it worked. The flames near me flickered, dimming slightly as I pulled them in. But then¡ªnothing.


    The fire at a distance remained untouched.


    I frowned. "Uh¡­ guys?"


    "Figure it out yourself," Solace said.


    "Seriously?"


    "You¡¯re the one who needs to learn."


    I groaned. Fantastic. Trial by fire. Literally.


    The Thread of Connection


    I tried thinking my way through it, but no dice. Fire wasn¡¯t like electricity¡ªit wasn¡¯t something I could just pull from anywhere. I needed a connection.


    I stared at the burning wreckage, my mind racing. What did I have that could reach the flames?


    And then, it hit me.


    Sweat.


    From running here, my body was covered in a fine sheen of it.


    If I could extend that¡ªmake it into a thread¡ªmaybe¡­


    I focused, guiding a thin, nearly invisible string of sweat outward. It extended slowly, weaving through the air. No one noticed¡ªit was too small, too insignificant. But it was mine.


    I felt it dry almost instantly, and the moment it did, I pulled.


    The flames responded.


    A slow, creeping sensation filled my body as the fire surged toward me, sucked along the makeshift conduit I had created.


    It worked.


    Holy hell, it worked.


    I grinned, keeping my focus. The flames dimmed, one by one, until the fire was completely gone¡ªabsorbed, devoured, and now a part of me.


    A New Kind of Hunger


    As the last flickers died, the crowd erupted in confusion. The fire department, who had been ready to battle the inferno, stood frozen. The supermarket, though scorched, was still standing.


    And me?


    I wiped the sweat from my brow, exhaling.


    "Well," I muttered, "that was definitely the weirdest meal I¡¯ve ever had."


    "You did well," Solace admitted.


    "Not bad," Riven added.


    Fang just scoffed. "I suppose there¡¯s some hope for you."


    I grinned.


    This whole Compatibility thing?


    I was just getting started.


    Chapter 7, Part 2: The Art of Making (Legal) Money Like a Supervillain


    1. Solace Takes Over¡ªAgain


    Not even five minutes had passed since I got home, and I was already feeling restless. I had fire absorption now, my energy reserves were somewhat stable, and I wasn¡¯t in immediate danger of collapsing from hunger.


    So, logically, the next step was to figure out what to do next.


    "Could any of you teach me more Links?" I asked.


    The response was instantaneous.


    "You don¡¯t have the capacity."


    Solace¡¯s voice was cold, matter-of-fact. The others murmured their agreement.


    "What does that even mean?"


    "It means exactly what it sounds like. You don¡¯t have the mental or physical bandwidth to contain more Links. You barely survived learning Recovery. If we push more into you now, your entire existence will collapse like a badly structured house of cards."


    I sighed. Should¡¯ve known it wasn¡¯t going to be that easy.


    Fine. If I couldn¡¯t brute-force my way to more power, I needed to set a foundation. And what better foundation than money?


    "Alright, fine. I need money. I have to make money."


    The moment those words left my mouth, Solace moved like a predator sensing blood in the water.


    "It¡¯s time for me to take over again."


    "Why is it always you?" Riven complained. "That¡¯s not fair. We all deserve a turn."


    "Because I¡¯m the only one competent enough to handle this," Solace replied without even looking at him.


    Before I could argue, my body wasn¡¯t mine anymore.


    2. Setting the Stage: Supermarket Hacking & Laptop Acquisition


    Solace walked out without hesitation, his movements sharp and precise. Within minutes, we arrived at a supermarket¡ªnot for food, but for something far more valuable.


    A laptop.


    Solace¡¯s hands moved efficiently, browsing the aisles. He didn¡¯t go for anything flashy¡ªjust a decent laptop with good processing power and no unnecessary bloatware. The kind of machine that could run financial models without slowing down.


    Arthur: "So, uh, why are we buying this instead of just stealing one?"


    Solace: "Because an official purchase leaves a cleaner trail than a stolen device. If we do this right, we won¡¯t need to hide anything."


    Logical. Annoyingly logical.


    After the purchase, Solace casually strolled out of the store, but instead of leaving immediately, he stopped by the cash counter.


    Arthur: "Uh¡­ are we forgetting something?"


    Solace: "No. We¡¯re acquiring¡­ resources."


    That was when I realized what he was doing.


    With an absurd level of efficiency, Solace¡¯s eyes scanned the supermarket¡¯s digital checkout system¡ªnot to hack it, but to memorize the essential financial details of a random rich customer. A flicker of an ID, a glimpse of transaction history, and¡ªjust like that¡ªwe had access to a clean, untraceable identity.


    Arthur: "That was horrifyingly fast."


    Solace: "Efficiency is key."


    3. Entering the Stock Market Like a Calculated Predator


    Solace wasted no time. He found an empty parking lot, connected the laptop to a high-speed Wi-Fi hotspot, and set up a new brokerage account.


    Arthur: "Wait, we¡¯re doing this from a parking lot? That feels¡­ unprofessional."


    Solace: "The market doesn¡¯t care where you are. Only how well you play the game."


    Tab after tab opened¡ªfinancial news, social media trends, live stock data.


    The rest of the voices watched in a mix of fascination and pure confusion.


    Asher: "I feel like I should understand this, but I don¡¯t."


    Riven: "I don¡¯t get it either, but I¡¯m just here for the chaos."


    Fang: "Tch. Meaningless gambling."


    Solace ignored them all. His fingers moved with machine-like precision as he made his first small deposit. Just enough to start.


    Arthur: "So, what exactly is the plan here?"


    Solace: "Simple. Observe market behavior. Manipulate human psychology. Profit."


    Arthur: "That¡¯s¡­ vague."


    Solace: "That¡¯s strategy."


    And then he got to work.


    4. The Genius of Market Manipulation


    At first, it seemed like he was just watching numbers move. But after ten minutes, something clicked.


    Solace: "I have the trajectory."


    Arthur: "You have the what now?"


    Solace: "I can see what¡¯s going to skyrocket and what¡¯s going to crash. The patterns are obvious."


    Arthur: "Oh, obviously."


    But as I watched, I realized that Solace wasn¡¯t guessing. He was calculating.


    He watched social media for influencer reactions that could impact stock prices.


    He cross-referenced news for corporate scandals or insider trading signals.


    He analyzed market movement patterns, predicting panic sells and hype buys before they even happened.


    And then, the real game began.


    5. The Money-Making Strategy Unfolds


    Phase 1: Small Investments with Big Ripples


    Solace started with micro-investments, just enough to influence price movements without being detected.


    Arthur: "Wait¡­ are you causing a butterfly effect?"


    Solace: "More like setting up dominoes. One small push, and the market follows."


    Phase 2: Leverage & Options Trading


    Then came the real risk¡ªhigh-leverage trades.


    Arthur: "Isn¡¯t this basically gambling?"


    Solace: "No. It¡¯s gambling if you don¡¯t understand the game. I do."


    With options trading, Solace placed calculated bets on stocks rising or falling.


    Phase 3: Shorting the Failing Giant


    That¡¯s when he found it¡ªa corporation on the verge of collapse.


    Arthur: "Wait. Are we¡­ betting on a company dying?"


    Solace: "Yes."


    Arthur: "Wow. That¡¯s dark."


    With a massive short position, Solace set it up so that when the stock crashed, we¡¯d make an absurd amount of money.


    6. The Crisis: A Market Counterattack


    Just when everything was perfect, something changed.


    Powerful investors noticed the manipulation. They started counteracting the trend, trying to trap Solace in a losing position.


    Arthur: "Uh. Solace? I think they¡¯re fighting back."


    Solace: "Good. Let them try."


    What followed was a battle of financial wits, a high-speed chess match in the stock market.


    They pushed prices up? Solace dumped shares to crash them harder.


    They tried to reverse trends? Solace used psychological manipulation to trigger mass panic sales.


    They attempted a coordinated buyout? Solace played them against each other.


    Arthur: "We¡¯re gonna get assassinated by billionaires, aren¡¯t we?"


    Solace: "Only if they figure out who we are."


    And finally¡ªafter hours of battle¡ªSolace pulled out at the perfect moment.


    7. The Aftermath: Arthur is Now Filthy Rich


    Arthur stared at the laptop screen. The account balance was no longer in thousands. It had millions.


    Arthur: "So¡­ we¡¯re actually rich now?"


    Solace: "No, I¡¯m rich. You¡¯re just the idiot who owns the account."


    Arthur: "Semantics."


    Solace, smug: "And that¡¯s how you play the market."


    But deep down, Arthur knew¡ªthis was not gonna end well.

 Chapter 8 The Art Of Not Dying Again

    Chapter 8, Part 1: The Art of Not Dying (Again)


    You¡¯d think after making an ungodly amount of money in under a day, I¡¯d feel like the king of the world. That I¡¯d finally have some breathing room. Maybe kick back, sip a fancy drink, and revel in my newfound riches.


    Nope.


    Because the first thing my brain did was scream, How the hell was that so easy?!


    Seriously, if Solace could casually pull off financial wizardry like that, then what about the others? What could they do? And¡ªmore importantly¡ªwere they safe to keep around?


    Now, let me clarify. I wasn¡¯t questioning their loyalty. They¡¯d saved my ass too many times for that. But let¡¯s be honest¡ªif someone handed you a button that could destroy the world and then said, ¡°Don¡¯t worry, we¡¯re responsible¡±¡­ you¡¯d still hesitate, right?


    But the thing about paranoia is that it only gets you so far before it turns into pure stupidity. If I started second-guessing the people (or voices, whatever) that kept me alive, I might as well start digging my own grave.


    So, I shoved that doubt aside, locked it in a tiny mental box, and threw away the key.


    I wish I could say that was the end of my trust issues. That I never had another moment of suspicion.


    But that would be a lie.


    Because, spoiler alert: I did doubt them again. Multiple times, actually. But every time I looked at them¡ªat Solace, Asher, Riven, Fang, and the rest¡ªI saw myself. Not copies, not illusions, not alien entities playing pretend.


    Just me.


    And one thing was painfully clear: if I died, they died.


    So, yeah. Survival instinct won that argument.


    Of course, Asher decided to be a little menace about it. "You know we can hear your thoughts, right?" he said, voice dripping with amusement. "So, do us a favor and stop doubting us in the long run."


    Not ominous at all.


    But honestly? After that, something shifted.


    I didn¡¯t notice it at first, but they became¡­ more supportive. Their usual personalities didn¡¯t change¡ªSolace was still a smug know-it-all, Riven was still a chaos gremlin, and Fang was still a growly murder machine¡ªbut there was a difference.


    Their intent.


    It was clearer now. Sharper. Less like detached voices in my head and more like¡­ comrades. Partners.


    Dysfunctional, morally questionable partners, but partners nonetheless.


    Food First, Existential Dread Later


    After resolving that mental crisis, I finally addressed the other burning issue: food.


    Because, apparently, I hadn¡¯t eaten in over eight hours.


    That might not seem like much, but for someone who recently discovered that evolutionary hunger was a thing, it felt like an eternity.


    And, look, I won¡¯t lie¡ªI love food. Not in the ¡°fancy gourmet meals¡± kind of way, but in the ¡°if it tastes good, I¡¯ll eat it¡± kind of way. If I was going to be stuck in this weird, chaotic life, I was at least going to enjoy my meals.


    I found a street food center, picked out some absurdly greasy but delicious-looking dishes, and devoured them like a starving beast.


    By the time I finished, I was happy. Not just full¡ªhappy.


    Maybe that¡¯s why I let my guard down.


    Because the moment I stepped out onto the street, I felt it.


    A presence.


    The kind of feeling that crawls up your spine when you know someone¡¯s watching you.


    This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    And Here Comes the Paranoia Again


    Fang growled my name.


    "Arthur."


    That was all he said, but that was all he needed to say.


    Even Solace, the unflappable mastermind, hesitated for a second.


    Something was wrong.


    And that¡¯s when I knew¡ªI was being watched.


    Now, you might think, "Big deal, maybe it¡¯s just a random passerby."


    Yeah, no.


    Random people don¡¯t lurk. They don¡¯t observe. And they sure as hell don¡¯t give off an aura that makes my inner murder dog start growling.


    So, of course, my first instinct was to do something smart, like¡ªoh, I don¡¯t know¡ªleave the area, blend in, act natural.


    But before I could make a move, someone started laughing.


    A genuine, entertained laugh.


    "Oh, this is gonna be fun," Riven said, practically vibrating with excitement. "My turn."


    Solace sighed. "You always say I toy with things. But let¡¯s see who the real master is."


    And then, just like that¡ª


    Control shifted.


    Riven¡¯s Playground


    If Solace was all about calculated efficiency, Riven was the opposite. He was a performer, an artist of chaos.


    The moment he took over, my posture changed¡ªlooser, more confident, a little too relaxed. Like a predator playing with its food.


    I wasn¡¯t just avoiding the spy anymore.


    I was baiting him.


    I took slow, casual steps, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease. Not too fast, not too slow¡ªjust enough to keep my tail interested.


    And, oh, they were interested.


    I could feel them adjusting their movements, trying to stay unnoticed while keeping me in sight.


    Amateur.


    Riven practically purred. "Oh, come on. Make it at least a little difficult for me."


    He led the spy on a slow, winding chase through the streets, taking unnecessary turns, pausing at random intervals, slipping into crowds only to reappear somewhere else.


    And the poor bastard followed.


    They probably thought they were being sneaky. That I hadn¡¯t noticed.


    Which made it so much more satisfying when I abruptly ducked into an alleyway, spun around, and waited.


    Sure enough, a shadow hesitated at the entrance.


    Trapped.


    Riven grinned. "Gotcha."


    Interrogation Time


    The spy froze.


    For a moment, neither of us moved.


    Then, slowly, carefully, they stepped into the alley.


    A man¡ªmid-thirties, well-dressed but deliberately plain, the kind of outfit designed to blend in anywhere.


    "Who sent you?" Riven asked, voice casual, almost lazy.


    No response.


    Ah, silent type. Great.


    The man shifted slightly, weight adjusting.


    Oh, he was thinking of running.


    Riven tsked. "I wouldn¡¯t do that if I were you."


    The spy bolted.


    Riven sighed, almost disappointed. "They always pick the dumb option."


    And then, before the poor guy could even reach the alley entrance, Riven moved.


    Not ran¡ªmoved.


    One second I was standing still, and the next, I was right behind him, arm already grabbing his collar, yanking him back into the shadows.


    The man barely had time to gasp before Riven slammed him against the wall.


    "Let¡¯s try this again," Riven said, voice still annoyingly cheerful. "Who. Sent. You?"


    The spy swallowed hard.


    And, for the first time, I saw something flicker across his face.


    Not fear.


    No, that would have been expected.


    What I saw was worse.


    Recognition.


    He knew who I was.


    Which meant someone had been talking.


    And suddenly, this was a much bigger problem than I thought.


    To Be Continued¡­


    You ever have one of those moments where you realize you¡¯re in way deeper than you expected?


    Yeah.


    This was one of those moments.


    Chapter 8, Part 2


    You ever see a cat toy with a half-dead mouse? That¡¯s what Riven was doing. Except the mouse was a fully grown man, and instead of playing, Riven was butchering.


    "Hey there, my friend," Riven purred, his tone almost affectionate. "I won. You couldn''t catch me, and now it''s your turn."


    The spy looked dazed, probably wondering where exactly his life had gone so, so wrong. One second, he was tailing an unassuming young man; the next, he was in the grip of something far worse than he had prepared for.


    Riven got annoyed when the guy didn''t respond, and let me tell you¡ªthat was a mistake. Because what happened next? Yeah, I wouldn¡¯t want to experience it again.


    See, Riven doesn¡¯t just hurt people. No, he enjoys it. He makes it an art. He picked the guy up using my fingernail¡ªwhich, by the way, isn¡¯t even long enough to pick anything up¡ªand in the blink of an eye, the man was... ventilated.


    There were so many puncture wounds that he looked like a human-sized fountain.


    That was also the first time I realized just how terrifying each of these voices really was. Solace may have been a calculating perfectionist, but Riven? He was a demon masquerading as excitement.


    The spy was dying. Fast. Before he could even think of saying anything useful.


    "Stop!" I yelled, and¡ªsurprise, surprise¡ªI actually managed to take control back from Riven.


    That was new.


    "Aww, but it was just getting fun," Riven whined.


    Fun for who? Definitely not for the poor guy currently bleeding out at my feet.


    I ignored Riven¡¯s sulking and focused on the now very much alive but very much regretting it spy. My voice steadied. "Who are you?"


    Now, let me ask you¡ªwhat does a spy do when they¡¯re caught?


    Yeah. Suicide.


    This guy was no different. The second I asked my question, his mouth moved, trying to swallow something. A pill.


    Classic.


    Unfortunately for him, I was faster.


    I punched him¡ªnot too hard, just enough to force his stomach to reject whatever he just tried to swallow.


    Worked like a charm. The pill flew out of his mouth¡­ and hit me square in the forehead.


    Great. Now I literally had the blood of my enemies on me.


    I wiped my face and glared at him. "Try that again, and I¡¯ll let Riven turn you into a fine-mist sprinkler."


    That got him talking. Sort of.


    "They¡¯re watching," he rasped. "They know you use it."


    That caught my attention. "Who¡¯s ¡®they¡¯?"


    The spy hesitated. His lips parted. "He¡ª"


    A keychain¡ªa freaking keychain¡ªcame out of nowhere and speared him through the ribs.


    You ever see someone get sniped by pocket accessories? Because I have.


    And just like that, the guy was dead.


    I didn¡¯t even get a name.


    Riven snickered. "Damn. That¡¯s rough, buddy."


    Ignoring him, I crouched and checked the guy¡¯s pockets. No ID, nothing traceable. But there was something.


    A visiting card.


    John¡¯s Trading Agency.


    I stared at it for a long moment. Then I exhaled. "Solace."


    "You know what I¡¯m going to say," he responded smoothly.


    I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Endure it, and don¡¯t if you can¡¯t?"


    Solace smiled. "Exactly."


    This was going to be a problem.


    Because I didn¡¯t know who ¡®they¡¯ were.


    But ¡®they¡¯ definitely knew me.


    And they weren¡¯t just watching.


    They were acting.


    The moment the spy¡¯s lifeless body slumped to the ground, silence settled in. Not the peaceful kind¡ªno, this was the awkward, we should probably talk about what just happened kind.


    I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Well. That was... an experience."


    "A waste," Riven muttered. "I could''ve had more fun."


    "Yes, because turning him into a human pincushion was completely necessary," Solace said dryly.


    "It was necessary," Riven shot back. "He was an enemy. What, you wanted him to get a comfy chair and a cup of tea?"


    "Yes, actually. A controlled interrogation would''ve been preferable to whatever that was."


    I cut in before they could start another endless debate. "You both suck. Focus." I held up the visiting card. "John¡¯s Trading Agency. Any guesses?"


    "Considering our recent financial success," Solace said, with just the right amount of smugness, "I¡¯d wager it¡¯s not a coincidence."


    "So, what?" I asked. "Someone¡¯s mad that we made money?"


    "More like someone noticed how we made money," Asher interjected. "No way a random kid pulls off that level of market manipulation without raising some red flags."


    I clicked my tongue. "Great. So they either think I''m a fraud, a criminal, or something worse."


    "You are something worse," Riven pointed out cheerfully.


    "Shut up."


    Fang, who had been unusually quiet, finally spoke. "He said they were watching. More than one person. More than one group, maybe."


    That was the part I didn¡¯t like. If there were multiple people keeping an eye on me, that meant I was already in deeper than I thought.


    "Alright," I said, rubbing my temples. "Options?"


    "Leave the city," Asher suggested.


    "That sounds like running," I shot back. "And I hate running."


    "Find out who ''they'' are," Solace said. "Before they decide to escalate."


    Oh yeah. Because they hadn¡¯t escalated already.


    I exhaled. "Fine. But next time? No more fountains."


    Riven snickered. "No promises."

 Chapter 9: A Home Worth Killing for

    Chapter 9, Part 1 ¨C A Home Worth Killing For


    You ever wake up and realize that despite everything¡ªmurders, conspiracies, existential horror¡ªyou still need a place to crash?


    Yeah. That was me.


    Sure, a hotel worked for now, but I needed an actual home. One that didn¡¯t come with suspicious front desk clerks and a checkout deadline.


    And more importantly? One that didn¡¯t have eyes on it.


    "We need a place," I said. "A real one. Off the radar."


    No one argued. They were all still me, after all.


    So, like any reasonable person with an ungodly amount of stolen money, I went to find an estate agent. Or realtor. Or whatever they called themselves in this city.


    The place I found was too professional¡ªshiny desks, well-dressed brokers, that fake smile rich people wear when they pretend they care.


    I walked up to the receptionist.


    "I need to buy a house. Who do I talk to?"


    She gestured vaguely. "All our agents can assist you."


    I looked around. Every broker had a line of eager clients, except for one guy.


    He sat at his desk, completely alone.


    More interestingly? The moment I glanced at him, every other client in the room exchanged glances¡­ and left.


    Fang laughed. "He''s the one."


    I didn¡¯t even ask why.


    Because in every Webtoon, anime, and novel, this was the kind of guy who was either a scam artist, a supernatural guide, or an assassin in disguise.


    Either way, worth checking out.


    I strolled up to him.


    "You a broker?"


    "Yes."


    "Why doesn¡¯t anyone come to you?"


    He smirked. "Because I''m expensive. Too expensive."


    I sighed. "Great. The one I thought was special is just another scammer."


    Still, curiosity won. "Why are you so expensive?"


    He leaned back, eyes flicking over me like he was calculating my worth.


    "Because I deal with places meant for people like you."


    My fingers twitched.


    People like me?


    By all appearances, I was just an attractive late teen with a decent fashion sense and maybe a little too much confidence. So either he was guessing, or¡­


    "Do you know about Compatibility?" I asked.


    If he didn¡¯t, he¡¯d just look confused.


    Instead, he chuckled. "So that¡¯s what you call it."


    Bingo.


    "Yeah, I know about it. And I know the kind of place you¡¯re looking for."


    I crossed my arms. "And what exactly makes a house ''special'' for a Compatibility user?"


    "There are environments where supernatural energy lingers," he said. "Stay in one long enough, and it can¡­ change you."


    The voices fell silent.


    Then Solace muttered, "He''s not entirely wrong."


    That was enough.


    "Show me."


    We left the city.


    The estate was isolated, far from prying eyes, with no neighbors for miles. The moment I stepped out of the car, something felt¡­ different.


    The air was thicker, charged with something I couldn¡¯t quite explain.


    The house itself was a massive villa¡ªfive bedrooms, sleek architecture, the kind of place that looked like a billionaire¡¯s vacation home.


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    "I''m analyzing it," Solace said. A few seconds later, his voice turned sharp. "The limit here has already been broken."


    I turned to the broker. "Has the limit here been broken?"


    He frowned. "What limit?"


    Right. So he didn¡¯t fully understand.


    "How much do you know?" I pressed.


    He shrugged. "Just that people who stay in places like this long enough tend to¡­ awaken."


    That¡¯s why there are so many users this early.


    I glanced at the voices. They already knew what I was thinking.


    "Is this the best possible place?" I asked.


    The broker hesitated. "There¡¯s¡­ one other. But it¡¯s extremely expensive."


    "Take me there."


    The second place?


    It wasn¡¯t just supernatural.


    It was alive.


    The moment I stepped onto the property, I felt it¡ªCompatibility energy thick in the air, like the land itself had absorbed generations of evolution and mutation.


    "This place is built for monsters," Riven murmured.


    Not just now. When the limit fully broke, this place would become something else entirely. A sanctuary. A cradle for things beyond human.


    "This is it," I said. "How much?"


    The broker sighed. "Are you sure you can afford it? You¡¯re still just a¡ª"


    I cut him off. "Price."


    He exhaled.


    "One hundred million dollars."


    I felt my eye twitch. That was half my damn bank account.


    Fang snorted. "You could just kill him and take it."


    Tempting.


    But Solace, ever the voice of reason, simply said: "Right choice. Money can be replaced. Opportunities like this can''t."


    And just like that, I knew.


    I was buying this damn house.


    You ever spend a hundred million dollars on something and immediately wonder if you¡¯ve made the biggest mistake of your life?


    That was me.


    First time buying something this expensive, and let me tell you, rich people love paperwork. I had to sign what felt like a thousand documents, verify my identity a dozen times, and resist the urge to ask if I could just kill my way through the process.


    But in the end? I had a home.


    And not just any home¡ªa damn mansion.


    The first thing I noticed was the sheer size.


    This place was massive. A whole damn sect could live here. No, scratch that¡ªa small agency could set up shop and still have space to spare.


    Which, now that I thought about it, wasn¡¯t the worst idea.


    As I stepped inside, something immediately felt off.


    A house this big, completely empty? Yet spotless, like it had a cleaning crew working around the clock?


    No dust. No signs of previous tenants.


    Just eerie, perfect silence.


    Yeah, no way in hell I was trusting that.


    "Fang, Solace, get to work," I muttered.


    Fang, ever the predator, checked for threats. Solace, my personal living supercomputer, analyzed everything.


    "No immediate danger," Solace reported. "But the energy here is¡­ unusual."


    Unusual how? He didn¡¯t elaborate, which meant either he wasn¡¯t sure yet, or he wanted me to figure it out myself.


    Fine. Whatever.


    For now, all I knew was that I had a massive, empty, pristine house, sitting in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by an endless plain biome.


    And despite all the warning signs¡­


    I loved it.


    After a full inspection, I went outside to take in the scenery.


    That¡¯s when I saw it.


    A bird.


    Or¡­ well, something that wanted to be a bird.


    It looked more like a skinned chicken. Featherless, black-skinned, slightly terrifying. My first time seeing a baby animal without fur or feathers, and honestly? I wasn¡¯t sure if I should be fascinated or deeply unsettled.


    But for a newborn, it was big. A foot, maybe two.


    "What the hell are you?" I muttered.


    Curious, I pulled out my new phone¡ªbecause apparently being rich also meant needing a better one¡ªand snapped a picture.


    Uploaded it to a search engine.


    Results came back: Peregrine Falcon.


    I blinked.


    "A falcon?"


    I glanced at the little creature again. He didn¡¯t look anything like the sleek, majestic birds I¡¯d seen in documentaries. But then again, I¡¯d never seen one at this stage before.


    More interestingly? According to every source I checked, a baby peregrine falcon shouldn¡¯t be this big just after hatching.


    So either my new friend was on steroids¡­ or something very weird was going on.


    Not that I was complaining.


    "If you''re already this size at birth, you¡¯re special," I said, crouching down. "Guess that makes you family."


    The little falcon didn¡¯t respond. Just stared at me with those beady black eyes.


    Silent.


    Observant.


    And completely unfazed.


    I liked him already.


    I picked him up, raising him toward the sky.


    "You¡¯re pitch black like a raven," I mused. "So from now on, you¡¯re Raven."


    Fang chuckled. "He likes it."


    Well, that made two of us.


    But there was one problem.


    Raven hadn¡¯t eaten.


    Judging by his sunken stomach and sluggish movements, he probably hadn¡¯t eaten at all since he was born.


    I checked online. Peregrine falcons? Strict carnivores.


    And that was a huge issue.


    See, I was vegetarian.


    Not out of moral superiority or any deep philosophical belief. Just¡­ habit. My family had been vegetarian, so I grew up that way.


    Did I mind the idea of meat? Not really. I¡¯d eat anything that tried to eat me first. Fair game.


    But raising a carnivore? That was new territory.


    I hesitated. Then, after a moment, I crouched down and looked Raven in the eyes.


    "You wanna hunt?"


    Solace groaned. "Are you an idiot? A newborn can¡¯t hunt."


    I shrugged. "He¡¯ll figure it out."


    Raven tilted his head.


    Fang grinned. "Now this I wanna see.


    I took Raven to a nearby forest.


    Left him near a tree.


    We waited.


    Then, out of nowhere¡ª


    A sharp cry echoed through the sky.


    I tensed. Looked up.


    An eagle.


    It swooped down, massive wings casting a shadow over the ground. Raven flinched, clearly realizing just how outmatched he was.


    He¡¯s going to run, I thought.


    But he didn¡¯t.


    Instead, he kept his distance. Analyzing. Calculating.


    The eagle struck.


    I pointed at a glass barrier¡ªa thin, see-through film I had subtly formed between them.


    CRACK!


    The eagle slammed into it, shattering the glass and injuring itself in the process.


    Raven¡¯s eyes lit up.


    A predator¡¯s gleam.


    He pounced.


    And just like that¡ªhe tore into the eagle, shredding it apart with tiny but effective claws.


    Not clean. Not efficient. But brutal.


    He took his time. Savored every bite.


    A real hunter.


    I watched, arms crossed, feeling oddly¡­ proud?


    Fang cackled. "Now that¡¯s my kind of bird."


    When Raven finished, he flapped his featherless wings and let out a satisfied cry.


    Hunger? Gone.


    I crouched down, ruffling his head.


    "Good job."


    He let out a soft noise. Content.


    I picked him up, cradling him in my arms as we left the forest.


    The world had just changed for him.


    For the first time, he had hunted. Killed. Eaten.


    And he liked it.


    Which meant from now on?


    Raven wasn¡¯t just my pet.


    He was my partner.


    I smirked. "Let¡¯s go shopping."


    Because if I going to live here with my new family I needed supplies.


    Getting a cab in this city was like playing Russian roulette¡ªexcept instead of a bullet, you just lost your wallet and got a terrible ride.


    But today, I wasn¡¯t in the mood for public transport.


    I needed something better. Something permanent.


    And that meant buying a car.


    Which raised an important question¡­


    Where the hell do you buy a car?


    Not a rental. Not some cheap civilian vehicle. I needed something durable. Something that wouldn¡¯t crumple like tin foil the second I rammed it into a wall.


    Which, let¡¯s be honest, was inevitable.


    So, after some quick searching, I found a car dealership. Or at least, something close enough.


    The moment I stepped in, I was met with the same look I got at the estate agency.


    You know the one.


    The "Why is a teenager here trying to buy something he absolutely shouldn''t be able to afford?" look.


    I could practically hear their thoughts.


    "A kid? Buying a car? Must be a rich brat spending daddy¡¯s money."


    I didn¡¯t bother explaining. Not my problem if their tiny brains couldn¡¯t process reality.


    Instead, I walked up to the nearest salesman and got straight to the point.


    "I need a car," I said. "Sturdy, fast, something that can ram into anything and still be safe."


    The guy blinked. Opened his mouth. Closed it. Then blinked again.


    I sighed.


    "Look," I continued, "I know what I want. Either tell me where to find it, or I¡¯ll find someone who will."


    That seemed to wake him up.


    "There are¡­ a few options," he said slowly. "But if you want the best for what you¡¯re describing, there¡¯s only one."


    He pulled out a tablet and swiped through a few images before turning it to me.


    "The Paramount Marauder."


    I raised an eyebrow.


    "It¡¯s a military-grade armored jeep," he explained. "Practically a tank disguised as a vehicle. Can withstand bullets, explosives, and, as you wanted, it can ram through almost anything without taking much damage."


    I liked the sound of that.


    But there was a catch.


    "But," he continued, rubbing the back of his neck, "there¡¯s a problem."


    I gestured for him to continue.


    "It¡¯s a military-only vehicle," he admitted. "Not for civilian use."


    Ah.


    Now that was a problem.


    But problems had solutions.


    And mine came in the form of a stack of fresh bills.


    I casually pulled out a bundle of cash and started flipping through it.


    The salesman¡¯s eyes immediately locked onto it.


    Oho.


    Looks like I had a misconception about what counted as "military-only."


    "Please, come with me," he said, his voice suddenly much more accommodating.


    He led me through a side entrance, down a dimly lit hallway, and into a hidden garage.


    The moment the doors opened, I knew I was in the right place.


    Inside, at least a hundred illegal vehicles were parked in neat rows. Modified sports cars, armored SUVs, off-the-market military-grade vehicles.


    A goldmine of options.


    But I had my eyes on only one.


    The Paramount Marauder.


    It was an absolute beast.


    Matte black. Thick, reinforced armor. Windows that could probably stop a sniper round. It looked less like a car and more like something straight out of an apocalyptic war zone.


    I stepped closer, running a hand along the reinforced plating.


    "Yeah¡­ this will do."


    "I like this one," I said. "Customize it with everything necessary for survival¡ªbulletproof glass, reinforced plating, a silencer for the engine, the best internal modifications you can add."


    The salesman nodded, scribbling down notes.


    "And make it black," I added. "Pitch black."


    His pen stopped.


    Then, slowly, he looked up at me.


    "You got it, sir."


    I smirked, pulling out another stack of cash.


    "Here¡¯s your tip," I said. "Deliver it to this address when it¡¯s done."


    He took the money without hesitation.


    And just like that, I had secured the perfect ride.


    To be continued.

 Chapter 10: A Smart or Dumb Adventure

    Chapter 10, Part 1¨C The Shopping Trip Gone Wrong


    The car modifications were definitely going to take time.


    Which was fine.


    If I was going to have a military-grade beast as my personal ride, I wanted it perfectly customized. No half-measures.


    That meant I had some time to kill.


    "You will need special things for training," Solace suddenly said.


    I frowned. "Training?"


    "Yes. You¡¯re evolving. You need the right resources."


    That sounded important.


    But what was more important?


    My mansion was empty.


    No food. No furniture. No appliances.


    Just a big luxurious space with absolutely nothing in it.


    So, I figured, why not take care of both things at once?


    "Fine," I muttered. "Let¡¯s head to the shopping center."


    The Walk of Judgement


    Since I had nothing better to do, I decided to walk there.


    Big mistake.


    Not because of the distance. No, that was fine.


    The problem was the people.


    Specifically, the way they stared.


    Not at me, though.


    At Raven.


    You¡¯d think they had just seen a plague incarnate.


    Some looked confused. Others looked outright disgusted.


    Why?


    Because my adorable little falcon happened to be featherless.


    Apparently, a bird without feathers was an abomination in their eyes.


    I ignored them.


    Raven was my family now. And unlike these random people, he didn¡¯t judge me for carrying a semi-illegal military vehicle in my name.


    So, yeah. Screw them.


    I walked straight ahead, unfazed, while Raven nestled in my hand, watching the world with his sharp, beady eyes.


    Eventually, I reached the shopping center.


    The Ultimate Shopping Spree


    Step one: Buy everything necessary to survive.


    That meant food, furniture, appliances¡ªeverything.


    Because, let¡¯s be real, I couldn¡¯t just live in an empty mansion with nothing but empty rooms and regrets.


    Electronics First


    I headed straight for the electronics section.


    Since my kitchen was huge, I bought two large fridges.


    One for regular food. The other for¡­ whatever else I needed.


    Then, I grabbed a microwave, an oven, a ridiculous number of utensils, and a high-end coffee machine.


    Not that I drank coffee.


    But it felt necessary.


    Food Comes Next


    Now, onto the essentials.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    I loved potatoes.


    So, naturally, I bought an entire cart full of them.


    Then I grabbed a bunch of other vegetables, mostly to pretend I had a balanced diet.


    Oh, and yogurt and cheese.


    I really liked those, too.


    Solace, watching from the depths of my mind, sighed.


    "You do realize you eat like a broke college student, right?"


    "I have a mansion and an illegal military vehicle. I think I can afford to eat like this."


    He didn¡¯t argue.


    Because I was right.


    Furniture ¨C The Real Challenge


    Now, time to make my mansion actually livable.


    I was heading toward the furniture section when¡ª


    Everything went to hell.


    Surprise Attack ¨C But Not Really


    I felt it before I saw it.


    That subtle shift in the air. The unnatural tension creeping up my spine.


    Something was wrong.


    Then, I noticed them.


    Thirty to forty men.


    All dressed inconspicuously. Too inconspicuously.


    A group that size? Acting like they weren¡¯t following me? Yeah, obvious as hell.


    They were waiting.


    But they wouldn¡¯t strike in a crowded space.


    I kept walking, pretending not to notice.


    No need to rush things.


    Let them make the first move.


    The Unexpected Encounter


    As I reached the furniture section, an employee approached me.


    A regular guy in a uniform.


    "Welcome, sir. What are you looking for? I can assist you."


    Seemed normal.


    Until¡ª


    "He¡¯s not normal," Fang suddenly said. "He uses Compatibility. I can sense it."


    I tensed.


    That changed things.


    This guy wasn¡¯t part of the group after me.


    If he was, he wouldn¡¯t have approached me so openly.


    I decided to test him.


    "When did you awaken it?" I asked, cutting straight to the point.


    The guy froze.


    His entire body went rigid. His eyes widened.


    Bingo.


    He had no idea that I knew.


    A Quick Conversation


    "I¡­ last night," he admitted hesitantly.


    His hands clenched. He was on guard now.


    I raised a hand. "Relax. I¡¯m not an enemy."


    He didn¡¯t lower his defenses. But he listened.


    "I just want to know how it awakened," I said. "What changed?"


    The man hesitated before answering.


    "My brain started working faster," he muttered. "I could think faster. Process information in seconds. Multiple math solutions at once. My body reacted quicker, too."


    Interesting.


    "So, you¡¯re a mind-type user?" I guessed.


    "Not exactly," he said. "I don¡¯t have psychic powers or anything. But my mind itself works better now, and that lets me fight more efficiently."


    Huh.


    Sounded like a hybrid-type ability¡ªone that enhanced cognition and physicality together.


    I needed to test something.


    "What¡¯s your profession?" I asked.


    "¡­I was a butler."


    That explained it.


    His Compatibility had likely awakened based on his experiences¡ªefficiency, rapid thinking, multitasking.


    And now, his brain and reflexes were on overdrive.


    I smirked.


    "Want a job?"


    The guy blinked.


    "What?"


    "You were a butler, right?" I said. "I need one. Don¡¯t worry about money¡ªI¡¯ll pay well. And I¡¯ll even help you understand Compatibility properly."


    The man hesitated.


    "¡­What¡¯s Compatibility?"


    "I¡¯ll explain later," I said. "Right now, we have bigger problems."


    The Wolves Get Impatient


    The group tailing me?


    Yeah, they were done waiting.


    I could feel it.


    The predatory focus shifting in my direction.


    They were going to make a move soon.


    Which meant I had to set the battlefield.


    I glanced at the butler.


    "Listen carefully," I said. "I need to take care of something. When I go into the bathroom, make sure no normal civilians enter. Just say it¡¯s under maintenance or something."


    He frowned but nodded.


    "Got it."


    I exhaled, adjusting Raven in my hand.


    Then, with deliberate steps, I made my way to the bathroom.


    Time to deal with this mess.


    To be continued.


    Chapter 10, Part 2 ¨C A Wet and Bloody Fight


    Now, I know what you''re thinking.


    "Arthur, how are you going to fight 30-40 people alone as a kid?"


    Well, first of all, rude. Second of all, let me remind you that while I did awaken just a week ago, I¡¯m still an awakened. Not to mention, I¡¯ve been training¡ªor at least trying¡ªto get a handle on Recovery. So, while I might not be an overpowered protagonist just yet, I¡¯ve got some tricks up my sleeve.


    That being said¡­ yeah, even with all that, 30-40 people is a lot. But, you see, there¡¯s a simple trick to dealing with overwhelming numbers: you never fight all of them at once.


    At most, I¡¯d have to deal with four people at a time¡ªbecause no matter how many idiots are out for my head, there are only so many angles they can attack from. Simple geometry.


    Besides, in their minds, I was just some child assassin trained from birth. A dangerous opponent, sure, but also small, inexperienced, and probably running on sheer survival instincts. That gave me an edge¡ªI just had to use my brain.


    And I did.


    The Fight Begins


    The moment I stepped inside, they lunged at me.


    Not even a second to breathe. No villain monologue. Just straight-up murder mode.


    But I had already planned for that.


    I kicked open all the water pipes, sending jets of water gushing across the bathroom floor. Within seconds, the entire area was soaked.


    See, coordination is key when fighting in a group. You need proper footing, clear communication, and an understanding of where your allies are. And now? That was significantly harder.


    The first four guys came at me with knives.


    A bad move on their part. Knives are deadly, sure, but only if you know how to use them. Otherwise, you¡¯re just as likely to slice up your own team. And these guys? They were not on the same page.


    The first stab came straight for me¡ªI dodged, grabbed his arm, and swung him around like a helicopter blade.


    His friends immediately stumbled back to avoid getting sliced. I took the opportunity to stomp down hard, splashing cold water all over them.


    Now, if you¡¯ve ever worn wet clothes, you know how annoying they are. The fabric sticks, the weight slows you down, and¡ªmost importantly¡ªit makes every movement feel sluggish and clumsy.


    Unfortunately, these guys were too skilled to be thrown off completely.


    They recovered quickly and adjusted.


    Damn professionals.


    Another guy lunged at me¡ªI sidestepped and yanked his wrist hard, stealing his knife in the process.


    The next part? Brutal.


    I didn¡¯t have time to be fancy, so I did the fastest thing possible. I stabbed him¡ªhard.


    The blade sank deep. Blood gushed out, painting my already-soaked surroundings with bright red streaks.


    That¡¯s when I realized I was getting tired.


    Sure, I¡¯d awakened. Sure, I had Recovery. But at the end of the day, I was still a kid. My stamina wasn¡¯t infinite.


    But I couldn¡¯t stop now.


    Not when I was in the middle of a life-or-death situation.


    So, I did something¡­ well, desperate.


    I grabbed the guy¡¯s heart¡ªor at least, where his heart used to be¡ªand smashed it into the nearest person¡¯s face.


    Blood splattered everywhere. Into their eyes. Their noses. Their mouths.


    They recoiled¡ªdisoriented, disgusted, and momentarily blind.


    I didn¡¯t wait for them to recover.


    I ran.


    Escape & The Butler¡¯s Panic


    I burst out of the bathroom, grabbed the butler¡ªwho looked very confused¡ªand said, ¡°Run for your life.¡±


    He hesitated for exactly one second before his survival instincts kicked in.


    We sprinted out of the shopping center like our lives depended on it. (Because, well, they did.)


    Now, you might be wondering: ¡°Arthur, how did they even know the butler was with you?¡±


    And to that, I say: They didn¡¯t.


    They had no clue. But because of my dumb mistake, I just told them.


    Oops.


    Oh well. What¡¯s done is done.


    We kept running, weaving through the streets, dodging pedestrians, ignoring the judgmental looks at my blood-soaked clothes.


    Eventually, we found a taxi.


    The driver took one look at me, at the butler, at my red-stained shirt, and made the very smart decision not to ask questions.


    He just said, ¡°Where to?¡±


    I told him to take us to the city¡¯s edge, about an hour away from my house.


    And he did.


    Back Home & A Much-Needed Explanation


    By the time we got back, all the furniture, food, and resources had already been delivered.


    I stood in the doorway, breathing heavily, taking in the sight of my fully stocked mansion.


    I was alive.


    I was rich.


    And for once, I wasn¡¯t being chased.


    That was a win in my book.


    The butler, on the other hand, was not as chill about the situation.


    His patience finally snapped.


    ¡°WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!¡± he demanded.


    So, I explained everything.


    But, uh¡­ let¡¯s skip that part.


    (Trust me, you don¡¯t want to hear another long-winded exposition dump. Just imagine a lot of shocked expressions, stuttering, and dramatic gasps.)


    Cooking Time ¨C Budget Recipe for Survivors


    Now that everything was settled, I told the butler to put the supplies where they belonged.


    Meanwhile, I decided to cook something.


    Yes, you heard that right.


    After everything that just happened, my first thought was: ¡°Let¡¯s make a budget-friendly, delicious meal.¡±


    If you¡¯re not interested, feel free to skip this section.


    But if you are, let me teach you how to make one of the best, cheapest, and most survival-friendly meals ever.


    Golden Fried Potato Patties with Yogurt & Cheese


    Ingredients:


    4-5 medium-sized potatoes per person (or 1-2 large ones)


    Spices & salt (according to taste)


    Corn flour or bread crumbs (for crispiness)


    Yogurt


    Cheese


    Instructions:


    1. Boil the potatoes until they¡¯re soft and mashable.


    2. Mash them up¡ªsmooth and creamy is the goal.


    3. Add spices and salt¡ªadjust according to your taste.


    4. Mix in corn flour or bread crumbs for extra crispiness.


    5. Shape them into patties and fry until golden brown.


    6. Take a cup of yogurt, mix in a little salt for extra flavor.


    7. Plate the patties, pour yogurt over them, and sprinkle cheese on top.


    And there you have it.


    An easy, delicious, and budget-friendly meal¡ªperfect for any situation.


    Now, if you¡¯ll excuse me, I¡¯m going to stuff my face and pretend I didn¡¯t almost die today.

 Chapter 11: The Start Of Training Arc

    Now that I was finally home, I could breathe. The weight of everything that had happened over the past few days settled in, but for once, I wasn¡¯t running, bleeding, or fighting for my life. It felt strange. Almost too quiet.


    At least I had a butler now.


    I glanced around the mansion, the one I had practically stolen from the real estate market with legal money. It was still mostly empty, but I could already imagine it filled with the things I needed¡ªsecurity, comfort, a place to train, and maybe, just maybe, a place to actually live.


    I called out, ¡°Hey, butler.¡±


    The man appeared almost immediately, moving with that crisp efficiency you¡¯d expect from someone who had spent years in the profession. His posture was perfect, hands clasped behind his back, expression neutral.


    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± I asked, folding my arms.


    ¡°Sebastian.¡±


    I blinked. ¡°That¡¯s an ancient name.¡±


    He tilted his head slightly. ¡°Perhaps. It was given to me by my former master.¡±


    Well, that was depressing. I didn¡¯t pry.


    ¡°Alright, Sebastian. You have three jobs in this house.¡± I held up a finger. ¡°First, take care of Raven. He¡¯s my family.¡±


    Sebastian nodded, his eyes flicking to the bird perched on a nearby chair. ¡°Understood.¡±


    ¡°Second.¡± I raised another finger. ¡°Take care of yourself. You¡¯re my family too now.¡±


    For the first time, his neutral expression cracked, just slightly. I wasn¡¯t sure if it was surprise, amusement, or just sheer confusion, but he straightened up and gave a slight bow. ¡°I¡­ appreciate that, sir.¡±


    ¡°Which brings me to number three.¡± I held up the final finger. ¡°Cleaning. We can¡¯t afford to have strangers wandering in here. The less exposure, the better.¡±


    Sebastian nodded again. ¡°Understood. I will ensure the house remains secure and well-maintained.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± I waved him off. ¡°Now, go pick whatever room you like and get some sleep.¡±


    He hesitated. ¡°Are you sure, sir?¡±


    I groaned. ¡°Don¡¯t call me sir. And yes, I¡¯m sure. Just go sleep. I¡¯m tired.¡±


    He bowed slightly and left to find his room.


    Now that all of that was over, I could finally deal with the real priority.


    I took a deep breath and called out, ¡°Raven, come here!¡±


    A blur of dark feathers shot through the hallway. Raven landed on my shoulder, tilting his head and letting out a sharp caw. He was growing fast.


    I scratched the top of his head, and he leaned into the touch. It was strange how much he understood me¡ªor maybe he just understood my intent better than most people.


    ¡°Alright, you go play outside,¡± I said, opening the door to the backyard. He flapped his wings, flew a small circle, then landed on the grass, hopping around curiously.


    Seemingly satisfied, I headed to my own room.


    It had been a long day. A long week. Hell, a long life.


    I collapsed onto the bed and let out a sigh.


    Asher¡¯s voice chimed in. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. We¡¯re with you.¡±


    Solace, ever the rude one, simply said, ¡°Sleep.¡±


    I frowned at the tone, but whatever. He was Solace, as always.


    I closed my eyes, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I slept without the threat of death hanging over my head.


    The next morning, I woke up feeling¡­ normal.


    That was new.


    For a moment, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, wondering what the hell I was supposed to do now.


    And then it hit me.


    Training.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    I needed to learn another Link.


    I pushed myself out of bed, stretched, and made my way to the bathroom. The usual morning routine commenced. Shower, brushing teeth, looking at my reflection and questioning my life choices. The water ran red for a while, as it had been lately. I had washed off more blood than dirt in the past few days.


    Once I was done, I leaned against the sink and asked, ¡°Alright, whose Link am I learning next?¡±


    Solace answered immediately. ¡°Mine.¡±


    That made sense. Solace was the most analytical, the most controlled. His Link would probably be something incredibly useful.


    ¡°But,¡± Solace continued, ¡°before that, you need to train Sebastian and Raven.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°Sebastian I get, but Raven?¡±


    ¡°He understands you, right?¡±


    I glanced at Raven, who had just flown in through the open window, landing gracefully on my shoulder. His beady black eyes stared at me like he was waiting for something.


    ¡°¡­Fair point.¡±


    I left the bathroom, dressed quickly, and called out, ¡°Sebastian!¡±


    The butler arrived within seconds, looking slightly out of breath. ¡°Did someone attack?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± I said, rolling my eyes. ¡°Go get Raven and meet me on the terrace.¡±


    Sebastian looked down at Raven, who was still perched on my shoulder. ¡°Sir, he is already with you.¡±


    I sighed. ¡°Fine. Just follow me.¡±


    We reached the terrace a few minutes later. The air was crisp, the city skyline visible in the distance.


    I turned to Raven first. ¡°Alright, watch what I and Sebastian are doing.¡±


    Raven tilted his head.


    Sebastian, standing beside me, looked unsure. ¡°Sir, if I may ask¡­ what exactly are we doing?¡±


    I smirked. ¡°Training.¡±


    He blinked. ¡°Training¡­ me?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I said. ¡°And Raven.¡±


    The butler stared at me, then at the bird, then back at me. ¡°I see.¡±


    No, he didn¡¯t.


    I turned inward. ¡°Solace, what should I teach them?¡±


    Solace¡¯s voice was steady. ¡°Start with the basics. Coordination, reaction time, efficiency. You will need them both to be at their best if they are to assist you in the future.¡±


    That made sense.


    I cracked my neck. ¡°Alright, Sebastian. First lesson¡ªfootwork.¡±


    He looked surprised. ¡°Footwork?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± I said. ¡°You¡¯re a butler, right? You¡¯re used to moving with precision, carrying things, balancing objects. That¡¯s already a great foundation. Now we¡¯re going to improve it.¡±


    I took a stance. ¡°Watch.¡±


    I stepped forward, quick but controlled. Then back. Side to side. Smooth movements, precise adjustments. I wasn¡¯t a martial arts master, but after all the fights I had been in, I knew the importance of moving correctly.


    Sebastian observed carefully, then mimicked my steps. His movements were surprisingly fluid. He adapted quickly.


    ¡°Huh,¡± I said. ¡°Not bad.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, si¡ª¡± He caught himself. ¡°Arthur.¡±


    I grinned. ¡°Now, speed it up.¡±


    We repeated the exercise, increasing the pace.


    Raven, still watching from the railing, flapped his wings.


    I glanced at him. ¡°You too.¡±


    The bird cawed, then took off, circling above us. He wasn¡¯t just flying randomly¡ªhe was mimicking the movement patterns, adjusting his positioning based on our footwork.


    ¡°Smart bird,¡± I muttered.


    Solace hummed in approval. ¡°He will be a valuable asset.¡±


    We trained for a while longer, pushing Sebastian¡¯s reflexes, improving his movement, and making sure Raven got involved as well.


    By the time we stopped, Sebastian was breathing heavily but still standing tall.


    I nodded. ¡°Alright. Good start.¡±


    He straightened. ¡°What¡¯s next?¡±


    I smirked. ¡°Now? We test what you¡¯ve learned.¡±


    Sebastian looked wary. ¡°How?¡±


    I pointed at Raven. ¡°You dodge him.¡±


    Sebastian blinked. ¡°¡­Pardon?¡±


    Raven cawed, as if accepting the challenge.


    I grinned. ¡°Let¡¯s see if you can keep up with my bird.¡±


    And with that, training truly began.


    Raven flew straight at Sebastian. It was predictable¡ªbut only if you ignored the fact that his speed was terrifyingly fast. After all, he was a peregrine falcon, even though he cawed like a raven.


    Sebastian¡¯s eyes widened as the black blur closed in on him. He tried to dodge, twisting his body to the side, but it was already too late. Raven wasn¡¯t just fast¡ªhe was precise. His wings cut through the air with calculated efficiency, his beak nearly grazing Sebastian¡¯s ear as he whizzed past.


    The force of the near impact threw Sebastian off balance. He stumbled, nearly losing his footing, but to his credit, he managed to regain his composure before hitting the ground. His stance adjusted, his weight shifting to better counter Raven¡¯s next move.


    And that move came fast.


    Raven spun mid-air and dived at him again, his talons extended this time. He wasn¡¯t trying to hurt Sebastian¡ªat least, I didn¡¯t think so. He was just testing him, like a predator playing with its prey.


    Sebastian reacted a little faster this time, ducking just in time to avoid a direct hit. But he was still a step behind. Raven looped around and came at him from a different angle, darting left, then right, then directly above him, his movements erratic and difficult to predict.


    Sebastian swiped at the air, trying to deflect, but Raven easily dodged. Again and again, he struck from different positions, forcing Sebastian to stay in constant motion. It wasn¡¯t a real fight¡ªjust training. But training could still break you if you weren¡¯t prepared.


    Sebastian wasn¡¯t prepared.


    His breath grew heavier. His footwork started to slip. A fraction of a second too slow, and Raven¡¯s wing clipped his shoulder, sending him stumbling backward.


    ¡°Enough,¡± I called out.


    Raven let out a sharp caw but immediately flapped his wings, gaining altitude before landing on the terrace railing. His black eyes gleamed with something close to satisfaction.


    Sebastian exhaled sharply, wiping sweat from his forehead. He didn¡¯t complain, didn¡¯t make excuses. That was a good sign.


    I walked up to him and patted his shoulder. ¡°You did alright.¡±


    ¡°I failed to keep up,¡± Sebastian admitted.


    ¡°Yeah. That¡¯s the point.¡± I smirked. ¡°This is just the start. You¡¯ll get better.¡±


    He gave a small nod, still catching his breath.


    ¡°Now,¡± I continued, stepping back. ¡°You need to focus on building your endurance and reflexes. Normal exercises won¡¯t cut it¡ªyou need something that forces your body to react without thinking. Something that makes dodging and countering second nature.¡±


    Sebastian straightened up. ¡°What do you suggest?¡±


    ¡°For strength and durability, basic training will do¡ªpush-ups, planks, running, body conditioning. But for reflexes¡­¡± I tapped my chin, thinking. ¡°You¡¯ll need to practice catching things. Fast things. Really fast things.¡±


    Sebastian¡¯s brow furrowed slightly. ¡°Like what?¡±


    I grinned. ¡°Knives.¡±


    He blinked. ¡°Pardon?¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°If you can dodge or catch something flying at you at full speed, you¡¯ll be able to react to anything in a real fight. Reflex training is all about instinct. You don¡¯t think. You just move.¡±


    Sebastian hesitated, then nodded. ¡°Understood.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡± I gestured toward the terrace floor. ¡°Start now. Twenty push-ups, then we move on.¡±


    Without hesitation, Sebastian dropped into position and began.


    With him occupied, I turned my attention to Raven. The black bird sat on the railing, watching me intently.


    ¡°Alright, your turn,¡± I said.


    Raven tilted his head, waiting.


    ¡°You need to start feeling the wind,¡± I told him. ¡°Not just flying through it¡ªwith it. If you can unify with the air around you, you¡¯ll be faster, stronger, and harder to predict.¡±


    Raven gave a low caw, as if considering my words.


    ¡°You¡¯re a bird,¡± I continued. ¡°The sky is your battlefield. And if you can master the wind, you¡¯ll be unstoppable. If not¡­¡± I paused, letting the words sink in. ¡°¡­you¡¯ll break.¡±


    For a moment, he was still. Then, without warning, he spread his wings.


    And this time, there was something different about it.


    The way he held them¡ªthere was a new control, a new stillness. His feathers barely shifted as he moved, his body becoming part of the air itself rather than fighting against it.


    He hopped off the railing and soared upward.


    But there was no flapping, no struggle. Just a single, effortless glide, carried by the currents.


    He was getting it.


    ¡°Good,¡± I muttered. ¡°Keep going.¡±


    Sebastian, now finished with his push-ups, pushed himself up and looked toward Raven. ¡°He¡¯s¡­ adjusting?¡±


    I nodded. ¡°He¡¯s learning to flow.¡±


    We both watched as Raven maneuvered through the air in near silence, his movements smoother, more refined. He wasn¡¯t just flying¡ªhe was melding with the wind.


    Sebastian exhaled. ¡°That¡¯s incredible.¡±


    I smirked. ¡°Yeah. He¡¯s gonna be a monster once he masters it.¡±


    Now that everyone was occupied, I turned my focus back inward.


    ¡°Solace,¡± I asked, ¡°what¡¯s the Link you¡¯re going to teach me?¡±


    There was a brief silence before Solace¡¯s voice responded, calm as ever.


    ¡°Precision.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°Precision?¡±


    ¡°Every movement. Every strike. Every action. Absolute efficiency. No wasted motion, no unnecessary force.¡±


    That sounded¡­ interesting.


    ¡°And?¡± I pressed.


    ¡°It is more than just control,¡± Solace continued. ¡°It is mastery. The ability to direct every ounce of your power into the most effective outcome. To never miss. To never waste energy. To always act with purpose.¡±


    That¡­ sounded very interesting.


    I leaned against the railing, watching as Raven continued his silent flight and Sebastian prepared for the next stage of his training.


    ¡°Alright,¡± I muttered. ¡°Teach me.¡±


    Solace¡¯s voice was almost amused. ¡°First, you must understand what true precision means.¡±


    I sighed. ¡°Let me guess. A test?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    I rubbed my temple. ¡°Fine. What¡¯s the test?¡±


    ¡°Hit a target. One hundred times. In the exact same spot.¡±


    I raised a brow. ¡°That¡¯s it?¡±


    ¡°Without variance. Without fail. If even a fraction of an inch is off, you start over.¡±


    I let out a slow breath. That¡­ was going to be annoying.


    But, hell, when had anything ever been easy?


    ¡°Alright,¡± I said. ¡°Let¡¯s get to work.¡±

 Chapter 12: The Never Expected knowledge

    It had been a while since I started training with them. And let me tell you¡ªwhoever said the old days were gold was a liar. The old days weren¡¯t gold. They were molten, burning, and pressed against my skin like branding iron.


    And why do you think I¡¯m saying this?


    Because it was hell.


    Solace, in all his infinite wisdom, had decided precision training was the next step. He told me I had to shoot the same target 100 times in a row. No problem, right? Not easy, not hard.


    Then he added, "If you miss even once, start over."


    ¡­Right. I should have seen that coming.


    Still, I shrugged. ¡°Fine. That¡¯s how training works.¡±


    I got to work. The first attempt was laughable. I managed nine consecutive hits before my hands started to betray me. The second time, I made it to fifty. A massive jump, right? I thought so too. Then Solace, being the sadist he is, decided it wasn¡¯t hard enough.


    ¡°Every time you reach fifty, take one step back.¡±


    I had doubts. And I was right to have them.


    It wasn¡¯t possible.


    At least, that¡¯s what I thought.


    I tried. I tried again. I tried until my arms ached and my fingers cramped. It took two full days before I got close¡ªseventy-seven consecutive hits before I missed. An obnoxious number. But you know what? Seven is my lucky number.


    And it hit.


    I was just about to let out a sigh of relief when Solace spoke again. ¡°Now do it three hundred times.¡±


    ¡­Seven isn¡¯t my lucky number. I take it back.


    I think my soul left my body for a moment, but I did it anyway. And finally, after countless failures, I managed all three hundred shots. I turned to Solace, expecting some kind of acknowledgment. A nod. A slight hum of approval. Something.


    Instead, he said, ¡°You haven¡¯t learned it yet.¡±


    I wanted to throw the gun at his head.


    But I held back my violent urges and told myself that it would all be worth it.


    After all, I¡¯d trained long enough. It had to sink in eventually, right?


    Right?


    Yeah, no. Instead of waiting for divine intervention, I went to check on Sebastian and Raven¡¯s progress.


    Sebastian had his hands full. Between maintaining the house, taking care of Raven, and upgrading himself, he had somehow found a way to balance everything.


    And Raven? Raven had grown sharper. His body moved like a blur in the air, diving, weaving, cutting through the wind like a knife.


    Their training method was simple. Raven¡¯s goal was to land a hit. Sebastian¡¯s goal was to dodge.


    And to my surprise, he was doing well.


    Sebastian moved quickly, anticipating Raven¡¯s strikes, shifting at the last second to avoid them. But Raven was relentless. The falcon cawed sharply¡ª(because crows and ravens caw, even though he caws)¡ªand flared his wings, switching directions mid-flight.


    Sebastian barely managed to twist out of the way.


    ¡°Alright,¡± I called. ¡°That¡¯s enough.¡±


    Raven veered off, flapping onto the nearby railing with a satisfied puff of feathers.


    Sebastian was still catching his breath.


    I gave him a look. ¡°Let¡¯s have a spar.¡±


    His exhaustion vanished in an instant. ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    I sighed. ¡°What did I say about calling me sir?¡±


    ¡°My apologies, sir.¡±


    I gave up.


    We squared up. I decided to take it easy on him¡ªhe wasn¡¯t physically awakened, after all. His Compatibility was entirely mental-based. But I had to admit¡­


    I had to focus.


    The moment the fight started, Sebastian lunged.


    I barely had time to blink before he slipped behind me, faster than I expected.


    Then came the back kick.


    I smiled.


    I let myself stagger forward slightly, keeping my balance intact. Sebastian recovered quickly, rushing toward me again. This time, he threw a punch straight for my stomach.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    I leaned back¡ªjust enough to let his fist pass in front of me, brushing the fabric of my shirt.


    Solace hummed. ¡°Looks like the training helped. Even though it¡¯s just the start.¡±


    ¡­The start?


    I had no time to question it.


    Sebastian pressed forward, hands reaching out in a swift attempt to grab me.


    And he succeeded.


    His grip was firm, his movements controlled. But there was a problem.


    I was out of his weight class.


    Even though I was absurdly tall¡ªlike, pretty damn tall for someone my age¡ªSebastian was no slouch himself, standing at around 6¡¯3¡± or 6¡¯4¡±.


    Still, he couldn¡¯t lift me.


    But what he could do was throw me off balance.


    And he did.


    I quickly twisted out of his grasp and steadied myself. My mind was still adapting, still running on old instincts. I needed to switch tactics.


    I thought back to what I¡¯d seen in old martial arts demonstrations.


    I adjusted my stance, shifted my weight¡ªthen shot forward with a palm strike.


    The force sent Sebastian stumbling back.


    Not much damage, but enough to put some distance between us.


    He took a sharp breath, steadied himself. His hands clenched into fists.


    He was tired.


    I dropped my stance. ¡°That¡¯s enough.¡±


    Sebastian hesitated, then nodded.


    I glanced at Raven. He had been watching the entire fight with sharp eyes.


    I smirked. ¡°You learned something from that?¡±


    Raven ruffled his feathers, then cawed.


    ¡°Good.¡±


    I turned back to Sebastian. ¡°You¡¯re improving. But you¡¯re not there yet.¡±


    He straightened. ¡°I¡¯ll do better.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡±


    I exhaled, rolling my shoulders. The exhaustion from training was starting to settle in, but there was still one thing left to do.


    I turned my thoughts back to Solace.


    ¡°So,¡± I said. ¡°What¡¯s the Link you¡¯re teaching me?¡±


    Solace didn¡¯t even hesitate before answering. ¡°Didn¡¯t I already tell you? It¡¯s precision.¡±


    I sighed. Of course. There was no winning an argument against him. Not because he was always right¡ªbut because he was the kind of person (or voice, or whatever the hell he was) who would just keep going until I gave up.


    Now that Sebastian was done with his task, I tried to plan my next move. There was always something to do, something to think about¡ªbut strangely, the voices had been unusually quiet.


    It had been a while since I last talked to them.


    That was weird.


    ¡°Alright,¡± I said aloud, stretching my arms. ¡°Why have you guys been so silent these days?¡±


    For a moment, nothing. Then, Asher¡¯s voice drifted into my mind like a sigh.


    ¡°We need to rest too.¡±


    I blinked. That was new. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re you too, you know,¡± Asher continued. ¡°Even though we only exist in your mind right now, we still need to replenish our mental energy.¡±


    I frowned. ¡°Since when do voices in my head need rest?¡±


    ¡°Since always.¡±


    Yeah, great explanation. Very helpful.


    I crossed my arms. ¡°So, what, you guys just¡­ take naps?¡±


    ¡°Not exactly.¡± Asher sounded amused. ¡°We go into a state of slumber. It¡¯s the only way for us to recover. If we don¡¯t, we start losing stability, and that¡¯s the last thing you want.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes. ¡°How long are we talking?¡±


    ¡°About a week. We¡¯ve exhausted ourselves dealing with you.¡±


    ¡°Wow, thanks.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re welcome.¡±


    A week of silence? That sounded like both a blessing and a curse.


    ¡°Wait.¡± A thought clicked. ¡°If that¡¯s the case, then what about Solace? He¡¯s always there.¡±


    Asher chuckled. ¡°That guy? He¡¯s not the smartest among us for no reason. He sleeps when it has the least impact¡ªlike when you¡¯re asleep or doing mindless tasks. That way, he¡¯s always awake when it matters.¡±


    Of course, Solace had figured out some loophole. That was just like him.


    ¡°So, are all the others asleep right now?¡±


    ¡°Yup. Every single one of them.¡±


    Huh.


    I paused. ¡°What about you?¡±


    ¡°I already finished replenishing my energy,¡± Asher replied easily. ¡°I didn¡¯t take over your body, so I didn¡¯t need much recovery.¡±


    That made sense. The ones who took control needed more energy to restore themselves.


    I hesitated before asking my next question.


    ¡°There¡¯s something I¡¯ve been meaning to ask.¡±


    ¡°Oh?¡±


    ¡°At the funeral¡­ after it, I know Fang and Solace took over. But before that, when things really went to hell¡ªwho was the one in control?¡±


    Asher¡¯s tone turned serious. ¡°That was Vail.¡±


    I stiffened.


    I hadn¡¯t spoken to Vail yet. Not directly. But I had felt him.


    There was something different about him.


    Something wrong.


    I exhaled slowly. ¡°You¡¯ve mentioned the ¡®evil twins¡¯ before.¡±


    ¡°Right. You already know Fang is one of them.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°So Vail is the other?¡±


    ¡°Exactly.¡±


    I clenched my jaw. I had figured as much, but hearing it confirmed wasn¡¯t exactly reassuring.


    ¡°And¡­ you said Fang was the ¡®lesser evil.¡¯¡±


    ¡°Correct.¡±


    I swallowed. ¡°Then what does that make Vail?¡±


    Asher sighed. ¡°Not just the greater evil¡ªhe¡¯s the worst among us.¡±


    A chill crept down my spine. ¡°¡­Worse than Fang?¡±


    ¡°Far worse.¡±


    That was hard to wrap my head around. Fang was already bad enough.


    But then, Asher continued, his voice calm, matter-of-fact.


    ¡°You say I¡¯m an angel, right?¡±


    I frowned. ¡°I mean, compared to the rest of you, yeah.¡±


    ¡°And you think Fang is a monster.¡±


    I nodded. ¡°Obviously.¡±


    ¡°Then Vail is the devil.¡±


    Silence stretched between us.


    I didn¡¯t speak. I just let those words settle.


    ¡°He¡¯s ruthless,¡± Asher went on. ¡°To others. To himself. To anything that gets in his way. The only thing that matters to him is power. If it means growing stronger, he will do anything¡ªno matter how brutal, no matter how costly.¡±


    I exhaled sharply. ¡°¡­He sounds insane.¡±


    ¡°Oh, he is. Completely.¡±


    Great. Just what I needed.


    I shook my head. ¡°And he took over during the funeral?¡±


    ¡°Yes. He didn¡¯t just take over. He dominated.¡±


    That explained the aftermath.


    I ran a hand through my hair, forcing myself to move on. ¡°Alright. What about the others?¡±


    Asher¡¯s voice lightened. ¡°The last two? That would be Daze and Greed.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow. ¡°Daze?¡±


    ¡°The most talented out of all of us.¡±


    ¡°Wait.¡± I held up a hand. ¡°The most talented? Then why haven¡¯t I heard him speak even once?¡±


    ¡°Because he¡¯s the laziest.¡±


    I blinked. ¡°You¡¯re telling me that the most powerful one out of all of you just¡­ sleeps all the time?¡±


    ¡°Exactly. Ever since we all woke up, he¡¯s been asleep.¡±


    That was¡­ unexpected.


    ¡°What about Greed?¡±


    ¡°Ah, Greed is the opposite. He has the most curiosity, the most creativity. He¡¯s always looking for something new, something exciting. His mind never stops.¡±


    That made more sense.


    ¡°So we have the evil twins¡ªFang and Vail,¡± I muttered, trying to keep track. ¡°Then we have the lazy genius, the overly curious one, and¡­¡±


    ¡°And the prodigy trio.¡±


    I blinked. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Solace, Daze, and Greed. Those three are in a league of their own.¡±


    ¡°¡­You¡¯re telling me Solace is on the same level as those two?¡±


    ¡°Of course.¡±


    That actually didn¡¯t surprise me. Solace was always ahead, always calculated.


    I crossed my arms. ¡°And why are they called a trio?¡±


    ¡°Because when we were awakening, those three stuck together the most. They shared their power, their thoughts. They developed in sync.¡±


    ¡°Huh.¡±


    ¡°Meanwhile, Fang and Vail were practically inseparable. They¡¯re twins in every way.¡±


    ¡°And what about you and Riven?¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re just¡­ there.¡± Asher sounded vaguely amused. ¡°We don¡¯t belong to any special group. We¡¯re just ourselves.¡±


    I exhaled.


    So, in total:


    Fang and Vail, the ¡®evil twins.¡¯


    Solace, Daze, and Greed, the ¡®prodigy trio.¡¯


    Asher and Riven, the outliers.


    My mind spun trying to process it all.


    ¡°You guys have a lot of complicated relationships,¡± I muttered.


    ¡°Welcome to your own head.¡±


    I rolled my eyes.


    This was only getting more chaotic.


    And somehow, I had a feeling This is just the calm before the storm.


    I turned away from the impending headache and looked at Raven. ¡°Fly as high as you can.¡±


    Raven cawed, puffing up his feathers like he was offended I even had to ask. He could fly however high I wanted¡ªprobably even higher.


    ¡°Quite confident, huh?¡± I smirked. ¡°Alright then, keep going until I tell you to stop.¡±


    Raven wasted no time. He flapped his wings and shot into the sky, rising higher and higher, slicing through the air like a black arrow.


    I waited until he was nearly a speck against the endless stretch of blue. Then, cupping my hands around my mouth, I shouted, ¡°Now embrace the air!¡±


    ¡­Yeah, not my best line.


    But Raven, being the absolute legend he was, understood.


    Without hesitation, he folded his wings and lunged straight down.


    It was instant. One moment, he was up there. The next, he was a dark blur against the sky, plummeting toward the ground at terrifying speed.


    The sound came first.


    A deep, sharp boom¡ªa ripple cutting through the air like a whip.


    Then another.


    And another.


    Raven was breaking through the air so fast that sound booms trailed behind him.


    I squinted, struggling to keep up. Even with my enhanced vision, tracking him was difficult.


    It was only when he was dangerously close to the ground¡ªmere inches away¡ªthat he finally flared his wings.


    The force sent a sharp gust of wind in all directions, making the trees bend and my hair whip around my face.


    And just like that, he landed.


    No crash. No broken bones. Just a perfect stop.


    But it had cost him.


    Raven panted, his wings trembling slightly, his feathers looking ruffled¡ªsome on the verge of being torn off from the sheer force of the descent.


    I walked over and picked him up gently.


    ¡°You¡¯ve grown well,¡± I murmured, running a careful hand over his feathers.


    Raven let out a tired but satisfied caw.


    I took him inside, bathed him, and got him fresh again.


    And just as I was drying him off, my phone buzzed.


    A call.


    I glanced at the screen. The car dealer.


    I answered. ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°The modifications are complete,¡± the man on the other end said. ¡°I¡¯m outside the mansion with your vehicle.¡±


    I grinned.


    Finally.


    I walked downstairs and called for Sebastian. He appeared within seconds, ever-efficient as always.


    ¡°We¡¯ve got a delivery,¡± I said.


    We both stepped outside.


    And there it was.


    A beast of a machine.


    Pitch black, sleek, and deadly. The kind of car that oozed danger just by existing.


    Its frame was reinforced¡ªtough enough to withstand just about anything from a normal human.


    Of course, against an Awakener, it was about as effective as a glass of water in a burning house. But still, for everyday use? Perfect.


    The dealer stepped forward. ¡°Everything¡¯s set. Payment has already been processed, so there¡¯s nothing left on your end. If you ever need further modifications, don¡¯t hesitate to contact us.¡±


    I gave him a nod. ¡°Appreciate it.¡±


    The man left, and I took a moment to admire the car.


    Damn.


    It was beautiful.


    A predator on wheels.


    I turned to Sebastian. ¡°Park it in the garage.¡±


    He nodded, taking the keys.


    Meanwhile, I headed back to the terrace.


    I already knew Solace wasn¡¯t done with me.


    ¡°What¡¯s next?¡± I asked, stretching my arms. ¡°I assume you have something even worse planned?¡±


    Solace chuckled.


    And that¡¯s when I realized¡ªthe hell I had been talking about?


    The hell Was Going to open it''s gate''s for me.


    To be continued...

 Chapter 13: The Hunt

    Chapter 13: The Hunt"


    But first, you have to take care of those rats following you."


    I frowned. "What? Why so suddenly?"


    "It¡¯s happening early."


    My pulse quickened. "What¡¯s happening early?"


    "The limit. It¡¯s going to break sooner than expected."


    I went still. My mind raced, trying to process the weight of that statement.


    "The limit¡­ breaking early?"


    "Yes."


    I exhaled sharply. "Great. Because I definitely wasn¡¯t under enough pressure already. How much time do I have?"


    "At most? Three days."


    I clenched my fists. "Three days? That¡¯s way too soon! Wasn¡¯t this supposed to take months?"


    "It¡¯s happening early because creatures across the universe have already started awakening. The balance is shifting faster than expected."


    My thoughts flashed back to the flying chain kill i encountered¡ªthe strange, unnatural power in the keychain, the unnatural coordination, the sheer intelligence that normal people shouldn¡¯t have.


    I muttered under my breath, "You mean like those rats that have been following me?"


    "Exactly. They¡¯re just the beginning. More will come. And they won¡¯t be as easy to deal with."


    "So what you¡¯re saying is¡­" I let out a sigh, rubbing my eyes. "Before I get the answers you so desperately want to give me, I have to clean up this mess first?"


    "Correct. Take care of them, and then we¡¯ll talk."


    I shook my head, exhaling through my nose. "Then we better get to work fast."


    John¡¯s Trading Agency


    If there was one place to start, it was there.


    After all, it was the only lead I had.


    I pulled out my phone, searching for its location. Within seconds, I had my answer¡ªaround four to five hours away from my home.


    I turned to Sebastian, who had been silently standing by, as always.


    "Sebastian, it¡¯s time to go hunting."


    He raised an eyebrow but didn¡¯t question me. "Shall I prepare the car?"


    I nodded. "Pick up Raven first. I¡¯ll get the car out in the meantime."


    Sebastian bowed slightly before leaving to fetch the oversized bird that had become my pet¡ªor rather, my unintentional sidekick.


    Meanwhile, I made my way to the garage.


    The second I stepped inside, my eyes fell upon the sleek, polished machine parked within.


    Damn.


    No matter how many times I saw it, it never stopped looking cool.


    A smirk tugged at my lips as I ran a hand over the hood.


    I wasn¡¯t much of a car guy, but even I could appreciate this.


    Moments later, Sebastian arrived, Raven perched on his arm.


    Without another word, we got in and left.


    Four Hours Later¡­


    The building loomed ahead, tall and corporate¡ªan office space disguised as something less shady than it actually was.


    I parked a short distance away, taking a moment to assess the situation.


    Guards.


    Two at the entrance.


    They weren¡¯t just for show, either¡ªthe way they stood, the way their eyes scanned the area, the subtle tension in their posture... Yeah. These weren¡¯t rent-a-cops.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    I adjusted my clothes, straightening my formal attire.


    Butler? Check.


    Pet? Check.


    Expensive-looking suit? Check.


    I looked every bit the young master of some powerful family.


    Which meant¡­ I could lie my way through this.


    I stepped out, walking toward the entrance with the same confidence I had when I actually belonged somewhere.


    As expected, the guards stopped me.


    "State your business."


    I tilted my head slightly, giving them an unimpressed look. "Do I look like someone who announces his business at the door?"


    The guard hesitated. His eyes flickered to Sebastian, who stood quietly behind me. Then to Raven, who stared at him with an eerie level of intelligence.


    I sighed dramatically, tapping my fingers against my arm.


    "Let me guess. You¡¯re new here?"


    That threw them off. One of them stiffened slightly, suddenly uncertain.


    Good.


    Time to press harder.


    "I assume your boss wouldn¡¯t appreciate it if he found out you kept someone like me waiting outside," I continued, my tone laced with just enough arrogance to sell the act. "Or should I call him myself?"


    The hesitation lasted only a few seconds¡ªbut it was enough.


    One of them stepped aside. "Go in."


    I didn¡¯t even spare them a glance as I walked past.


    Sebastian followed behind me without a word, Raven still perched on his arm like some kind of gothic accessory.


    We entered the lobby.


    Modern. Clean. Efficient.


    A woman sat behind the reception desk, typing away.


    I walked up to her, resting a hand on the counter.


    She glanced up, offering a professional smile. "How can I help you, sir?"


    I returned the smile, but my next words were anything but friendly.


    "Since when do you use it?"


    Her brow furrowed slightly. "I¡¯m sorry?"


    I tilted my head. "The system. The one you use to keep track of who gets targeted and when."


    The confusion in her expression was genuine.


    She had no idea what I was talking about.


    Which meant she wasn¡¯t part of it.


    I let out a soft chuckle. "My mistake."


    Her shoulders relaxed slightly.


    "Where¡¯s your boss¡¯s office?" I asked casually.


    She hesitated.


    I smiled.


    And then, just a little too softly, I said, "Point."


    Something in my voice must have unsettled her, because she quickly gestured toward a hallway. "Straight down, last door on the left."


    "Thank you."


    I turned and walked toward it without another word.


    A Familiar Face


    The second I opened the door, I knew.


    The man sitting behind the desk stiffened the moment he saw me.


    His eyes widened, just slightly.


    Recognition.


    He knew who I was.


    Which meant he was one of the people who had sent men after me.


    I smiled.


    He didn¡¯t.


    "Arthur Cain," he said, voice carefully neutral.


    "John," I greeted, taking a slow step inside. "You look surprised to see me."


    His expression smoothed out almost immediately, slipping into something unreadable. "I have no reason to be."


    "Really? Because your face says otherwise."


    I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms.


    "Let¡¯s not waste time," I said. "We both know why I¡¯m here."


    John exhaled through his nose, clasping his hands together on the desk. "I assume you¡¯re here because of the¡­ incident."


    I smiled, but there was no warmth behind it. "Let¡¯s call it what it is. You sent people after me. They died. And now, I¡¯m here."


    Silence.


    A flicker of something passed through his eyes.


    Regret? No.


    Annoyance.


    He didn¡¯t care about their deaths¡ªonly that his plans had been disrupted.


    "I assume you want answers," he said at last.


    "That, and a few other things."


    He sighed. "Fine. Sit down. Let¡¯s talk."


    I tilted my head slightly. "Oh, we¡¯ll talk."


    A slow grin spread across my lips.


    "But you¡¯re not going to like what I have to say."


    Chapter 13, Part 2 ¨C A Knife¡¯s Edge


    I stepped closer, placing a hand on his desk and leaning forward just slightly. Enough to loom over him, but not enough to seem too eager.


    "Decide one thing," I said, voice low and casual. "Either you tell me everything you know, or you get tortured to death. Your choice."


    John stiffened. His fingers twitched slightly, betraying the tension he was trying to suppress.


    "You¡ªyou can''t just¡ª"


    I smiled.


    He said "You know, right? You can¡¯t just show your powers in front of the public. And yet¡­"


    I straightened, pacing slowly around the room, letting my words sink in.


    "Let¡¯s consider two possible scenarios." I held up a hand, raising one finger. "One: An adult claims a poor, helpless child is using supernatural abilities and threatening him."


    Then, I raised another finger. "Two: An innocent, crying boy says you killed his parents and are now trying to kill him."


    I turned to face him again, tilting my head. "Now tell me, John. Which one do you think people will believe?"


    His face twisted into something between frustration and realization. His breathing grew heavier. He knew I had him cornered.


    Finally, his shoulders slumped.


    "Alright," he muttered. "Alright. I¡¯ll do as you say."


    Good.


    For about two seconds, I thought he actually meant it.


    Then his hand darted under the desk.


    My mind barely had time to register the movement before I saw the gleam of metal.


    A gun.


    Nice.


    I now had a much bigger problem.


    If that gun went off, it wouldn¡¯t just mean I was in danger¡ªit would mean every single person in this building would know something was happening. And as much as I enjoyed chaos, I wasn¡¯t in the mood to get gunned down by security.


    My body reacted faster than my brain.


    I kicked the desk¡ªhard.


    The entire thing flipped over, crashing into him with a thud.


    John let out a muffled yell as the weight of the heavy wooden desk pinned him to the ground. His grip on the gun loosened for just a second. That was all I needed.


    I snatched the weapon from his hands and pointed it at him.


    "That," I muttered, "was really stupid."


    He let out a pained groan, struggling beneath the desk. "P-please, let me go. I¡ªI''ll tell you everything. Just don''t shoot!"


    My finger hovered over the trigger for a moment. Not because I was planning to pull it¡ªjust to see how much fear I could wring out of him.


    "Then start talking," I said. "Who sent those people after me?"


    His mouth opened and closed, his throat bobbing as he swallowed thickly.


    Finally, he stammered, "The people¡­ they call themselves the Black Moon."


    The air in the room seemed to shift.


    I exchanged a glance with Sebastian, who had remained eerily silent this entire time. His face betrayed no reaction, but I knew he knew something about them.


    John continued, his voice shaking. "They¡ªthey noticed you using it. They saw you."


    My jaw tightened.


    Compatibility.


    They knew.


    I exhaled through my nose, stepping back slightly. "Sebastian," I said, my voice calm despite the storm in my head. "Do you have a spare knife?"


    Sebastian nodded. "Yes."


    "Hand it over."


    He reached into his coat and pulled out a sleek, polished blade. He tossed it to me without hesitation.


    John''s eyes widened in panic. "Wait¡ªwait, no¡ª"


    I caught the knife mid-air.


    And without letting him finish his sentence, I drove the blade straight into his hand.


    His scream echoed through the office, raw and full of agony.


    I twisted the knife slightly. Not enough to kill him. Just enough to hurt.


    He thrashed beneath the desk, gasping in pain.


    "Shhh," I murmured, pressing a finger to my lips. "You''ll make a scene."


    His body trembled, sweat beading down his forehead.


    "You know," I said, watching him carefully, "it''s a little weird, isn¡¯t it? Even if I did use Compatibility, why would a whole organization come after a kid?"


    John''s breath hitched.


    I narrowed my eyes. "You''re hiding something."


    His lips parted, but no words came out.


    I gave the knife another little twist.


    He screamed again, his entire body arching as pain shot through him.


    Sebastian watched silently. Raven let out a quiet croak from his perch.


    John gasped out, "I don¡¯t know everything!"


    I stilled.


    "But you know something," I muttered.


    He whimpered.


    I let the silence stretch.


    Then, finally, I pulled the knife out.


    John collapsed against the floor, clutching his bleeding hand. He was shaking violently, his face pale.


    "Cover the wound," I ordered. "Use your jacket. We¡¯re leaving."


    He hesitated.


    I met his eyes.


    And whatever he saw there made him obey without question.


    He shakily pulled off his suit jacket, wrapping it around his injured hand. The dark stain of blood slowly spread across the fabric.


    I grabbed the overturned desk and set it back in place.


    Then, nodding toward the door, I said, "Act normal. Follow me."


    His legs wobbled as he stood, but he forced himself to walk.


    As we stepped into the hallway, all eyes turned to us.


    Employees. Secretaries. Workers.


    They all stared.


    John kept his head down, his body rigid with pain.


    I smiled pleasantly at the onlookers. "Busy day, huh?"


    No one responded.


    We reached the lobby. The guards at the entrance straightened when they saw us.


    One of them frowned. "Boss, is something wrong?"


    I barely suppressed my smirk.


    Before John could react, I whispered to him, "Scold them."


    He turned to me, eyes wide with confusion. "What?"


    I raised an eyebrow.


    "Yell at them," I said softly. "Make a scene."


    He swallowed hard.


    Then, hesitantly, he turned to the guards and snapped, "What the hell are you two standing around for? Do I pay you to stare at people?"


    The guards instantly stiffened, looking almost guilty.


    "N-No, sir!"


    "Then get back to work!" John barked.


    I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.


    The guards fumbled, nodding rapidly. "Yes, sir! Right away, sir!"


    The moment we stepped outside, I let myself smirk.


    Sebastian, as always, remained composed.


    We walked to the car. John hesitated for a split second before getting in with us.


    I slid into the seat, stretching slightly. "Sebastian, let¡¯s go home."


    The butler nodded and started the engine.


    John sat stiffly beside me, his body tense.


    I turned my head slightly, watching him out of the corner of my eye.


    "You made the right choice," I murmured.


    His hands clenched into fists.


    I smiled.


    To be continued¡­

 Chapter 14: The Basement

    Chapter 14, Part 1 ¨C The Basement


    The moment we arrived home, I could finally relax.


    Or at least, that¡¯s what I told myself.


    Because, let¡¯s be real, it¡¯s hard to relax when you have a trembling rat of a man sitting in the backseat, sweating like he just ran a marathon in a sauna. John was so on edge I was half-worried he¡¯d spontaneously combust before I could get any useful information out of him.


    Sebastian, ever the composed butler, stepped out of the car with his usual grace, while Raven flapped his wings and perched on his shoulder like some ominous harbinger of doom.


    "Take Raven and feed him," I instructed. "Give him the burger I made earlier."


    Sebastian gave a slight nod before heading inside, his footsteps barely making a sound. Raven, on the other hand, gave me a long, judging stare, like he was debating whether or not I was worth listening to. Then he let out a croaky little noise that I was 70% sure was bird-speak for "Try not to kill anyone while I''m gone."


    Yeah, no promises.


    With Sebastian and Raven gone, I turned to John.


    "Follow me," I said.


    John hesitated. His hands twitched, his breathing shallow. I could practically hear the gears in his head turning. He thought he had a chance to run.


    He was so wrong it almost hurt.


    I turned and walked toward the basement door, not bothering to check if he was following. I knew he would. He was too scared to do anything else. The second I twisted the doorknob and stepped inside, a familiar coldness seeped into my bones.


    Basements have this weird ability to feel way creepier than they actually are. Maybe it¡¯s the still air, the dim lighting, or the way sound seems to vanish the moment you step inside. Or maybe it was just the fact that I had a chair in the center of the room like I was about to film a villain monologue.


    John stepped in behind me, slow and reluctant. His eyes darted around, looking for anything¡ªan escape route, a hidden weapon, a miracle.


    There wasn¡¯t one.


    I gestured to the chair. "Sit."


    John hesitated again, his Adam¡¯s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. But in the end, he sat.


    I stepped closer, resting a hand on the back of his chair. "Alright," I said, voice calm. "Are you going to spill everything yourself, or do I need to¡­ encourage you?"


    John flinched. "L-Look, I¡ª"


    "Before you answer," I cut in, holding up a finger, "just know that if you try to lie, I¡¯ll know. If you try to stall, I¡¯ll know. And if you try to waste my time¡­"


    I let the sentence hang in the air, giving him my best ¡®I¡¯m so done with your existence¡¯ stare.


    John shuddered.


    A solid five seconds passed before he cracked.


    "The Black Moon," he blurted. "That¡¯s their name."


    I hummed. "Dramatic."


    "They¡¯re after anyone who can use that¡­ that thing you did at the restaurant," he went on, voice uneven. "Anyone with an ability like that¡­ they either recruit them, or if they refuse¡­"


    He swallowed again. "They kill them."


    I nodded slowly. "Mhm. And?"


    John took a shaky breath. "They¡¯re¡­ not as big as you might think," he admitted. "They¡¯re actually pretty small."


    I raised an eyebrow. "How small?"


    John hesitated.


    I casually reached into my pocket and pulled out my knife.


    "Not more than a hundred people!" he blurted, gripping the arms of his chair like they were the only thing keeping him tethered to life. "A-And most of them aren¡¯t even awakened!"


    I twirled the knife between my fingers, watching him sweat. "So how do they kill awakened people, then?"


    John shuddered again, looking like a man who had just realized how stupid his life choices had been.


    "They¡­ they only target the weak ones," he admitted. "The ones who don¡¯t know how to use their abilities yet. They take them by surprise. And if someone¡¯s stronger, they overwhelm them. They don¡¯t fight fair."


    I sighed. "Of course they don¡¯t."


    There are always groups like this. Cowards who thrive on fear, who prey on the helpless while avoiding anyone stronger. It was predictable. Almost boring.


    But that didn¡¯t mean it wasn¡¯t dangerous.


    I leaned in slightly. "Tell me their leader¡¯s name. And their location."


    John hesitated.


    I gave him one look.


    He broke.


    He spilled everything¡ªnames, hideouts, contacts. He probably would¡¯ve given me his bank password if I asked.


    By the time he was done, he looked like a deflated balloon. His breath was ragged, his body trembling.


    "I¡¯ve told you everything," he whispered. "Please. Just let me go."


    I tilted my head.


    "Let you go?"


    John nodded so fast I thought his head might snap off. "Y-Yeah. You don¡¯t have to kill me, right? I mean, I¡¯m just a guy! A middleman! I¡ªI won¡¯t even think about running to them!"


    I stared at him.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    Then I let out a long, slow exhale.


    "John," I said, tone almost gentle. "Buddy."


    His face lit up with a flicker of hope.


    And that was the funniest thing I¡¯d seen all night.


    "No."


    Before he could process that, I moved.


    The knife sliced through the air, clean and precise.


    A second later, his head was no longer attached to his body.


    The sound of it hitting the floor was¡­ surprisingly soft. Just a quiet thump against the concrete.


    I stared at the blood pooling around my feet. The scent of iron filled the air.


    No hesitation. No guilt.


    I should¡¯ve hesitated. Should¡¯ve felt something.


    But instead¡­


    I just wiped the knife clean and stepped back.


    Inside my head, something shifted.


    "Asher."


    A smooth, amused voice hummed through my mind. Yes?


    I clenched my jaw. "What the hell is happening to me?"


    There was a beat of silence. Then Asher chuckled lightly.


    "The more we take over, the more our effects linger," he explained. "You¡¯ve grown into this because of us. Because of Compatibility."


    I let that sink in.


    "And don¡¯t worry," Asher added, voice almost comforting. "I¡¯ll make sure you don¡¯t make a decision you¡¯ll regret."


    I exhaled slowly.


    At least one of them still had a shred of sanity.


    ¡­Or at least, I hoped he did.


    I turned away from the mess, my mind already sorting through my next move.


    I had names. Locations. A target.


    The Black Moon was out there.


    And now?


    They were next.


    Chapter 14, Part 2 ¨C The Calm Before the Hunt


    Nighttime was the best time to strike.


    But before that?


    I was starving.


    It wasn¡¯t just any hunger, either¡ªit was the deep, gnawing kind, the type that made your body feel hollow, like something had carved out your insides and left you running on fumes. Probably a side effect of everything I¡¯d been through lately, including that little murder session in the basement.


    Oh well.


    I didn¡¯t even have to shout anymore. A simple call was enough.


    "Sebastian. Raven."


    Less than a second later, I heard rapid footsteps, followed by the soft whoosh of wings cutting through the air.


    Sebastian appeared first, looking as pristine as ever, like he hadn¡¯t just spent the evening casually helping his employer torture and execute a man. He stood at attention, back straight, hands folded. "Yes, sir?"


    Raven, on the other hand, made a far more dramatic entrance¡ªswooping down from whatever perch he¡¯d been lurking on and landing on Sebastian¡¯s shoulder with a powerful flap of his wings. He let out a loud caw that roughly translated to "Took you long enough, idiot."


    I stared at him. He stared back.


    And that¡¯s when I realized something.


    "You¡¯ve gotten bigger."


    Raven tilted his head, blinking.


    "No, seriously," I continued, stepping closer. "You used to be this tiny, angry little ball of fluff. Now you¡¯re¡­" I gestured vaguely. "¡­a bigger, angry ball of fluff."


    Sebastian cleared his throat. "He has indeed grown, sir. His wingspan has increased significantly. If I had to estimate, he¡¯s currently around three to four feet tall."


    "That¡¯s insane," I muttered. "He was literally born not too long ago."


    Raven let out another caw, fluffing up his feathers like he was showing off.


    I sighed. "Great. At this rate, you¡¯ll be big enough to carry me around like some kind of ominous death bird."


    Raven cawed again, but this time, I swore he sounded way too pleased with the idea.


    I ignored him.


    "You guys hungry?" I asked, shifting topics.


    Sebastian, as always, remained polite. "If you would like to prepare something, sir, it would be my pleasure."


    Raven, unlike Sebastian, was not polite.


    He immediately started flapping his wings aggressively, practically demanding food.


    "Alright, alright," I muttered. "Calm down, you little menace. I¡¯ll make something."


    Cooking had become somewhat of a ritual. A moment of normalcy in a life that had long since stopped being normal.


    So I made cheese wraps.


    Simple. Easy. Quick.


    The smell of melted cheese and toasted bread filled the air, mixing with the faint scent of spices. For a brief moment, it felt like a real home. Like a real family.


    The thought made my chest tighten.


    I missed my brother.


    I had no memories of my parents¡ªbecause they never stuck around long enough to become memories. But my brother? He was the only one who had ever mattered. The one who gave me my name.


    And now, he was gone.


    No.


    Not gone.


    I refused to accept that.


    Crying wouldn¡¯t change anything. Grieving wouldn¡¯t fix it.


    If I wanted him back, I¡¯d have to make it happen myself.


    But how?


    I forced the thought away. Not now. Not yet.


    We ate in silence.


    Sebastian ate like a man who had been raised in an aristocratic nightmare¡ªsmall, neat bites, perfect posture. Raven, on the other hand, devoured his portion like a wild beast, tearing into the wrap with sharp beak movements.


    And me? I just ate.


    No need for manners when it was just us.


    When we finished, I leaned back, exhaling slowly. "Alright," I said. "We move at night."


    Sebastian didn¡¯t react visibly, but I knew he was listening.


    Raven simply stared at me.


    "We take them out in one go," I continued. "No loose ends. No second chances."


    Sebastian gave a curt nod. "Understood, sir."


    Raven flapped his wings once before hopping onto the table, pecking at the last remaining crumbs.


    I stood up, stretching my arms. "Get some rest. We¡¯ll need all our strength for this."


    Sebastian nodded once more before excusing himself. Raven lingered for a moment before finally taking off, disappearing into the shadows of the house.


    And me?


    I headed to my room.


    My body felt strong, but I knew it wasn¡¯t enough. Regeneration was great, but it wasn¡¯t enough. I needed more.


    I needed to evolve.


    "Don¡¯t worry," Solace¡¯s voice echoed in my head, smooth and composed. "We¡¯ve been saving something for you."


    I frowned. "What is it?"


    "Not yet," Solace said. "Finish with these rats first. Then we¡¯ll talk."


    That was probably the closest thing to encouragement I was ever going to get from him.


    I exhaled sharply. "Fine."


    For now, I¡¯d sleep.


    Because when I woke up?


    The hunt would begin.


    Chapter 14, Part 3 ¨C A Wake-Up Call and a Hunt Begins


    I woke up.


    Not dramatically. No sudden revelations. No gasping for air like I¡¯d just escaped some nightmare. Just¡­ woke up.


    And then I sat there, staring at the ceiling.


    For once, the voices in my head weren¡¯t screaming at me. They weren¡¯t arguing or making snide comments. Just silence. Almost peaceful.


    Which was exactly why I didn¡¯t trust it.


    "You guys dead?" I thought.


    No response.


    Well. That was ominous.


    I shook it off and stretched. No time to waste.


    John¡¯s final words had given me a lead. His so-called ¡®associates¡¯ were hiding out in an abandoned hospital¡ªwhich, honestly, was so clich¨¦ it made my teeth hurt. Like, seriously? Out of all the possible hideouts, they picked a hospital that screamed ¡®haunted death trap¡¯?


    Guess they weren¡¯t big on creativity.


    I rolled out of bed and started searching up the location.


    It wasn¡¯t far. A short drive away, near the outskirts of the city. A place so neglected it had probably become home to stray dogs, drug addicts, and the occasional murder enthusiast.


    Perfect.


    But first¡ªmy employees.


    I made my way to the kitchen and, as expected, found Sebastian already up.


    He was washing dishes, posture straight as ever, moving with the kind of mechanical efficiency that made me wonder if he was secretly a robot.


    "You slept, right?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.


    "Yes, sir," he answered without missing a beat. "I woke up not too long ago."


    Good. At least one of us was maintaining some level of discipline.


    Which brought me to the other one.


    I turned my head.


    There, lying on his back like he had just finished a twelve-hour shift at a soulless corporate job, was Raven¡ªmy feathered menace.


    He was sprawled out across the counter, wings slightly ruffled, head tilted at an angle that looked way too comfortable.


    He was sleeping like a human.


    I stared.


    I blinked.


    I stared some more.


    This stupid bird was out here acting like he had a 9-to-5 job, a mortgage, and a family to feed.


    "Oi," I muttered, reaching out to nudge him. "Wake up."


    Nothing.


    I poked him again.


    Still nothing.


    Alright, fine. You wanna be like that?


    I reached out¡ª


    And the little bastard bit me.


    Not a warning peck. Not a gentle nip.


    A full-fledged, no-hesitation, ¡®I hate you¡¯ bite.


    I yanked my hand back, eyes narrowing.


    And you know what he did next?


    He shifted positions and went right back to sleep.


    That was it. That was the final straw.


    "You wanna act like you run this house?" I muttered, grabbing him carefully. "Fine. Let¡¯s see how you like this."


    Silently, I picked him up and carried him to the bathroom. He didn¡¯t even struggle¡ªjust lazily blinked at me like he couldn¡¯t be bothered.


    We reached the bathtub.


    I turned on the faucet.


    The water ran cold.


    Raven finally realized what was happening.


    He let out a confused little caw.


    And then¡ª


    I dropped him in.


    Instantly, the bathroom erupted with the most horrified, betrayal-filled cawing I had ever heard.


    Raven thrashed. He flapped. He screamed.


    And I just stood there, arms crossed.


    "That¡¯s what you get for biting me," I said.


    He glared at me¡ªgenuinely, glared¡ªlike I had just committed a crime against birdkind.


    I sighed, reaching in to pull him out.


    And then the little shit bit me again.


    "You ungrateful¡ª!"


    I bit back the curse.


    Fine. Whatever. I grabbed a towel and dried him off, muttering the entire time. Raven, for his part, kept making these angry little huffs, occasionally snapping his beak at me just to remind me that he would never forgive me for this.


    Finally, I was done.


    I walked back into the main room, where Sebastian was already waiting.


    "The car is ready, sir," he said smoothly.


    I paused.


    He was standing too perfectly. His face was too neutral.


    I narrowed my eyes. "You heard everything, didn¡¯t you?"


    Sebastian didn¡¯t answer.


    Which was an answer in itself.


    I groaned, running a hand through my hair. "Whatever. Let¡¯s go."


    He simply nodded, opening the door.


    Raven, still glaring daggers at me, swooped onto my shoulder with a dramatic flourish¡ªsoaking wet feathers and all.


    I gritted my teeth.


    Tonight was going to be fantastic.


    The Drive to Hell


    The abandoned hospital wasn¡¯t far, but the drive felt longer than it should have.


    Mostly because I had a wet, angry bird sitting on my shoulder the entire time, radiating enough passive aggression to kill a small animal.


    Sebastian drove in silence, eyes focused on the road, completely ignoring the tense standoff happening in the passenger seat.


    I sighed, shifting slightly. "You¡¯re gonna dry off eventually, you know."


    Raven just huffed.


    "Stop being dramatic."


    Another huff.


    I rolled my eyes. "Oh my God. You¡¯re worse than Solace."


    "I heard that," Solace¡¯s voice chimed in lazily.


    I scowled. "Oh, now you show up?"


    "Had to let you embarrass yourself first," he said smoothly.


    I inhaled slowly, exhaled even slower. "Fantastic. I love my life."


    Sebastian cleared his throat lightly. "We are approaching the location, sir."


    Finally.


    I leaned forward, eyes scanning the area.


    The hospital loomed in the distance¡ªtall, abandoned, and oozing with the kind of atmosphere that made horror movie directors weep with joy.


    Its windows were shattered. Graffiti covered its once-pristine walls. The entire area was surrounded by rusted-out cars and piles of garbage that looked suspiciously like human remains.


    Charming.


    I tilted my head. "So this is where the rats are hiding, huh?"


    Sebastian nodded. "According to the information you retrieved, yes."


    I cracked my neck. "Good. Then let¡¯s pay them a visit."


    Sebastian smoothly pulled the car into an alley, parking in a concealed spot.


    I stepped out first, stretching. Raven finally decided to hop off my shoulder, shaking out his feathers aggressively before taking to the air.


    Sebastian adjusted his gloves. "How would you like to proceed, sir?"


    I looked at the hospital, mind already running through possibilities.


    A frontal assault? Too noisy.


    A stealth approach? Maybe, but I didn¡¯t know the layout yet.


    An ambush? I¡¯d need to lure them out first.


    Then, an idea struck me.


    I smirked.


    "How about," I said, "we let them come to us?"


    Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "And how do you propose we do that, sir?"


    I looked at Raven.


    He looked back.


    He immediately started shaking his head.


    I grinned.


    "Raven, buddy," I said, voice dripping with fake sweetness. "How would you like to play bait?"


    Raven immediately cawed in outrage.


    Sebastian sighed, adjusting his tie. "This will be interesting."


    "Oh, you have no idea," I muttered.


    The hunt was about to begin.

 Chapter 15: Ravens Rage

    Chapter 15, Part 1


    Raven¡¯s head was shaking left to right non-stop, his feathers fluffing up in distress.


    "Just do it," I told him, arms crossed. "You¡¯re not weak enough to die from that. Or are you?"


    He cawed aggressively in protest, his little talons scraping against the ground like he was ready to throw a tantrum. Then, with a reluctant sigh¡ªor the bird equivalent of one¡ªhe retracted his wings.


    "Nice. He¡¯s ready."


    I bent down to look him in the eye. "Alright, here¡¯s the plan."


    He listened, though I could tell he wasn¡¯t happy about it. The moment I finished explaining, he immediately started cawing again, shaking his head as if he were saying, Nope, nope, absolutely not.


    "This is too risky," he protested with a loud screech.


    I patted his head. "I hear you, and I am ignoring you."


    More screeching. More offended flapping.


    "Do you want to eat dinner or not?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.


    That shut him up.


    "I¡¯ll make pizza," I added, knowing I had him trapped.


    Raven loved pizza. It was one of the most unexpected discoveries I¡¯d made since raising him. The way he devoured a slice was both disturbing and kind of impressive. He even had a favorite¡ªextra cheese, no olives.


    He looked at me, weighing his options. Then, with a final irritated caw, he turned and took off.


    I smirked, watching him fly into the night. "Works every time."


    Sebastian, who had been silently observing this entire exchange, finally spoke. "Sir, are you sure using Raven as bait is wise?"


    "Define ''wise,''" I said, stretching my arms. "Because in my book, anything that works is wise."


    Sebastian sighed but didn¡¯t argue. He had long since learned that my definition of ¡®common sense¡¯ was a bit different from everyone else¡¯s.


    We waited. It took time. I tapped my foot impatiently.


    Then, in the distance, I saw it.


    Raven.


    And behind him?


    A lot of people.


    Raven was cursing me from afar.


    "I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!"


    I burst out laughing so hard I had to clutch my stomach. Watching that tiny black dot in the sky flapping desperately with a mob of furious gangsters chasing after him was peak comedy.


    Sebastian, as always, remained composed. "They are approaching rapidly, sir."


    "I can see that, Sebastian," I wheezed between laughs.


    Then an idea hit me.


    "Oh, this is gonna be good," I muttered, quickly shoving Sebastian behind a dumpster. "Hide."


    "But¡ª"


    "Shh. Just trust me."


    He sighed but obeyed.


    Raven finally reached me, his face the picture of betrayal. His eyes practically screamed I will kill you in your sleep.


    "Hey, buddy!" I greeted, wiping away tears of laughter.


    His response was a wing slap to my face.


    I really should¡¯ve seen that coming.


    Behind him, the angry mob was closing in. Unfortunately for them, they were about to walk right into my trap.


    "Now, Sebastian!" I whispered.


    Like a shadow, he emerged behind them. Silent. Deadly. Efficient.


    SMACK!


    The sound of Sebastian knocking a guy unconscious with a single blow was almost musical.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    The rest of the mob turned in shock, just in time for Raven to go full murder mode.


    Feathers fluffed, claws out, and beak snapping, he pounced.


    It was my turn now.


    I sprinted toward the parked car, throwing myself inside and revving the engine.


    The mob was already caught in the chaos, unable to react fast enough.


    Perfect.


    I hit the gas.


    The car screeched forward, tires burning against the asphalt as I charged straight into them. The ones still standing barely had time to move. I wasn¡¯t trying to kill them¡ªjust heavily inconvenience their existence.


    Bodies hit the hood, rolling off to the side. Some were thrown completely out of the way. Others weren¡¯t as lucky.


    The car came to a screeching stop.


    I stepped out and took in the scene.


    Most of the non-awakened guys were already down.


    Five were still standing.


    They looked at me.


    I looked at them.


    "Alright," I clapped my hands. "Each of you gets one. Finish them, and provide backup if I need it."


    Sebastian nodded.


    Raven flapped his wings dramatically, like a warrior preparing for battle.


    And me?


    I had three guys to handle.


    They stared at me, then exchanged glances. Their expressions all screamed the same thought.


    "What¡¯s this teenager even gonna do?"


    I smirked. "Oh, you¡¯ll see."


    One of them rushed at me. Bad move.


    I tackled him straight to the ground.


    His friend lunged at me next. I dodged, grabbing his arm and flipping him over. He crashed down with a groan.


    The third guy hesitated.


    Smart.


    Too bad I wasn¡¯t giving him a choice.


    I dashed forward, targeting his stomach.


    Why?


    Because it was nighttime. And judging by his build, he¡¯d definitely had dinner. A well-fed enemy is a slow enemy.


    My fist sank into his gut.


    He crumpled.


    "Called it," I muttered.


    The other two were trying to get up. Not happening.


    I grabbed the closest one by the collar and slammed him into the car door. He went limp.


    One left.


    He swung at me. I ducked, then elbowed him in the ribs.


    A breathless wheeze escaped his lips before he collapsed.


    And just like that, it was over.


    Sebastian had already finished his opponent with the grace of a professional butler-slash-assassin.


    Raven, on the other hand¡­


    Well.


    His opponent was currently sobbing.


    "Please get him off me!" the guy wailed, flailing as Raven pecked at his head mercilessly.


    I sighed. "Raven, buddy. I think he¡¯s had enough."


    CAW!


    "He called you a pigeon."


    Raven screeched in fury, pecking harder.


    The guy cried louder.


    I shook my head. "Alright, alright. That¡¯s enough. We need him alive for information."


    Raven finally relented, but not before giving the guy one last menacing glare.


    Sebastian turned to me. "What now, sir?"


    I cracked my knuckles. "Now? We ask some very persuasive questions."


    I glanced down at the trembling survivor.


    "Starting with you."


    His face paled.


    This was going to be fun.


    Chapter 15, Part 2


    My stomach was bloated from both the absurd amount of food I¡¯d eaten and the unstoppable laughter I¡¯d just experienced. Seriously, watching Raven terrorize that guy had been the highlight of my night.


    I took a deep breath, finally calming down, and surveyed my surroundings.


    We were in a silent alley¡ªempty, dark, and conveniently corpse-ridden.


    No witnesses. No cameras. No nosy civilians.


    A perfect little crime scene.


    By the looks of it, most of the Black Moon members were dead or unconscious. That meant fewer loose ends to tie up.


    ¡°Well,¡± I clapped my hands together, ¡°at least we don¡¯t have to hide the bodies.¡±


    Sebastian raised an eyebrow, wiping his gloves clean with a napkin. "Sir, I feel obligated to remind you that proper disposal is still recommended."


    I waved him off. "Look at this place. Nobody''s coming down this alley unless they have a death wish."


    Sebastian sighed but didn''t argue. He¡¯d long since accepted my brand of efficient problem-solving.


    Now, onto business.


    I turned my attention to the one remaining survivor¡ªthe lone guy who, unfortunately for him, had lived long enough to be useful.


    He was trembling, sweat dripping down his forehead. His wide, fearful eyes darted around like a trapped animal, probably calculating how fast he could run.


    Spoiler: not fast enough.


    "Alright, buddy," I said, stepping closer. "Tell me everything you know."


    He hesitated.


    Raven, now perched on Sebastian¡¯s shoulder, ruffled his feathers, watching the man with the same look a hungry hawk gives a juicy rabbit.


    I smirked. "Hey, Raven. You know what this guy just called you?"


    Raven tilted his head.


    I leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "He said you¡¯re a cursed chicken."


    Silence.


    Then, an explosion of flapping wings, furious caws, and pure, unfiltered bird rage.


    The guy barely had time to scream before Raven descended upon him, pecking and clawing like a feathery executioner.


    Sebastian coughed into his fist, looking away as if this was all beneath him. It probably was.


    Meanwhile, I leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching the chaos unfold.


    The guy was practically begging for death now.


    "W-what did I do to deserve this?!" he wailed.


    "Oh, you joined a shady murder gang and got caught," I said casually. "Tough luck, huh?"


    He screamed again as Raven went for his ear.


    Alright, that was enough.


    "Raven," I called.


    The little menace paused mid-peck, glaring at me.


    "Do you want pizza or not?" I asked.


    His eyes narrowed, but he begrudgingly backed off, hopping onto the ground with a final caw of irritation.


    Now, however, his anger was turned on me.


    I sighed. "Look, I¡¯ll add extra cheese, alright?"


    He still looked betrayed, but he at least stopped trying to kill the guy. Progress.


    I turned back to the survivor. "So, you gonna spill, or should I let him eat you?"


    That did it.


    The guy immediately snapped to attention. "I-I¡¯ll speak!"


    I gestured for him to continue.


    He swallowed hard before stammering, "We Black Moon have only one goal¡ªto reign supreme when the Breath of God comes."


    I frowned. "Breath of God?"


    Then it clicked.


    Oh.


    He meant the Limit Breaking Event.


    The upcoming global evolution that was about to throw the world into absolute chaos.


    Yeah, that made sense.


    "And?" I pressed.


    He licked his lips nervously. "We also plan to eliminate any potential enemies before it happens."


    I nodded slowly. "Right. Classic villain move. You¡¯re trying to remove competition before the power boost hits. Not bad."


    The guy flinched, probably not expecting me to be so casual about it.


    I leaned against the car. "Are all of you here tonight? Or should I expect more of you crawling out of the woodwork later?"


    He shook his head quickly. "N-no, our boss and vice chairman are still at the base."


    That made me grin. "Even better."


    The guy paled.


    I cracked my knuckles. "Well then, I guess I should just kill you now."


    His whole body tensed. "B-but I told you everything!"


    I tilted my head. "Yeah, but your information isn¡¯t that great. You think I¡¯d let you live for some generic doomsday cult nonsense?"


    He gulped. "O-oh. What do I do, what do I do¡ª"


    Then, as if divine inspiration struck him, he blurted, "I-I know something else!"


    I raised an eyebrow. "Go on."


    He swallowed again, trying to steady his voice.


    "A bull," he said suddenly.


    I blinked. "A what now?"


    "A bull," he repeated. "Was born in a butcher house. While his parents were being butchered."


    ¡­


    I stared at him.


    Sebastian adjusted his glasses.


    Even Raven looked confused.


    "And?" I prompted, because if this was some weird bedtime story, I was going to be annoyed.


    The guy took a shaky breath. "That bull had a special power. The moment it was born¡­ it killed the butcher who was about to slaughter it."


    I whistled. "Damn. That¡¯s metal."


    He nodded frantically. "And it didn¡¯t stop there! It killed several people before we captured it."


    That actually piqued my interest. "You captured it?"


    "Yes! We¡ªBlack Moon¡ªcaptured it and locked it up. It all happened tomorrow."


    I blinked again. "¡­You mean yesterday?"


    "N-no! I mean tomorrow!" he insisted.


    I started to be annoyed. "Alright, are you dumb, or are you messing with me? Because unless you¡¯re a time traveler, you don¡¯t get to say something happened tomorrow."


    He frantically waved his hands. "I mean, it will happen tomorrow! The boss just talked about it today!"


    ¡­


    Okay, that was slightly more interesting.


    I crossed my arms. "And what¡¯s special about this bull?"


    He hesitated.


    I narrowed my eyes. "Speak."


    He flinched. "I¡ªI don¡¯t know much! But I overheard the boss talking about it. He said¡­ the bull had intense murder intent."


    Now that was something.


    "Wait, hold on." I held up a finger. "You¡¯re telling me a bull¡ªa literal cow¡ªis out here plotting homicides?"


    He nodded weakly.


    I rubbed my chin. "Okay, that¡¯s both ridiculous and terrifying. Love it."


    Sebastian finally spoke up. "Sir, what do you plan to do with this information?"


    I grinned. "Isn¡¯t it obvious?"


    Sebastian sighed. "You want to steal the bull."


    "Ding ding ding!" I snapped my fingers. "Give the man a prize."


    Sebastian pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sir, might I remind you that stealing a genetically enhanced, highly murderous animal is not a wise course of action?"


    I shrugged. "Neither is keeping a pet raven that acts like a tiny mafia boss, yet here we are."


    Raven cawed in agreement.


    Sebastian sighed again. "I assume I cannot talk you out of this."


    I patted his shoulder. "Now, Sebastian, where¡¯s the fun in that?"


    He muttered something under his breath, but I chose to ignore it.


    Instead, I turned back to our terrified captive.


    "Alright," I said. "You¡¯ve earned yourself a very temporary lease on life. Congratulations."


    He exhaled in relief.


    Then I added, "But if you so much as think about snitching, Raven will find you. And he will peck your eyeballs out."


    The guy nodded so fast I thought he might break his neck.


    "Good talk," I said cheerfully. "Now get lost."


    He didn¡¯t need to be told twice.


    He scrambled to his feet and bolted, tripping once before disappearing into the darkness.


    Sebastian adjusted his gloves. "Sir, that was surprisingly merciful."


    I stretched. "Yeah, well. Gotta keep things interesting."


    Then I grinned.


    "Now, let¡¯s go steal a murder cow."

 Chapter 16: Action

    Now that we were halfway through clearing out the pests, I had to start thinking ahead. The rest of these guys weren¡¯t going to take themselves out¡ªunfortunately.


    Which meant I needed a plan.


    A menacing plan.


    A plan so deviously simple yet effective that even Sebastian raised an eyebrow when I explained it.


    ¡°Sir, that is...certainly a strategy.¡±


    I grinned. ¡°You doubt me?¡±


    ¡°Always.¡±


    Fair.


    But before we get to the execution of said master plan, let¡¯s set the scene, shall we?


    I made my way toward the Black Moon¡¯s base¡ªor what was left of it. The place looked like an overcooked lasagna. Crumbling walls, shattered windows, and what I think used to be a grand staircase, but now resembled a sad pile of rubble.


    Stealth was the name of the game. I crept up the stairs with all the grace of a seasoned assassin¡ªwhich is to say, I tripped once but recovered so fast it didn¡¯t count.


    And there they were.


    The two highest-ranking members left standing: The Boss and The Vice Boss.


    They hadn¡¯t seen me yet, which was a very fortunate development.


    Time for the plan.


    I picked up a rock from the broken wall. Not just any rock¡ªa strategic rock.


    I aimed. I threw.


    The rock tumbled down the stairs, making an oh-so-suspicious noise.


    Predictably, both of them snapped to attention. The Boss, in true boss fashion, immediately issued a command.


    ¡°Go check it.¡±


    The Vice Boss grumbled but obeyed, making his way toward the stairs. I could see the skepticism on his face, but that didn¡¯t matter.


    Phase One? Complete.


    Now, Phase Two.


    I picked up another rock, this time about the size of a cat. Not a particularly fat cat, but a solid medium-sized one. The kind that judges you from across the room.


    And then, without ceremony, I dropped it out of the nearest window.


    The Vice Boss, hearing the very deliberate thunk, narrowed his eyes and started heading that way.


    Perfect.


    I stealthily followed behind him, close enough to strike but not just yet.


    See, the plan wasn¡¯t to attack him outright. That would be too predictable. Instead, I had a better idea.


    I led him¡ªvery subtly¡ªto a dark alleyway.


    Because, let¡¯s be honest, bad guys have terrible situational awareness.


    He walked right into my trap.


    I stopped at the dead-end wall, turned to face him, and gave him a friendly little wave. ¡°Hey there.¡±


    His face went through the full cycle of human emotions: confusion, realization, panic.


    But before he could react, before he could even think about pulling a weapon¡ª


    Sebastian and Raven descended upon him like a nightmare given wings.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    Raven, the absolute menace, went straight for the face. Because of course he did.


    Sebastian, ever the professional, struck fast and clean.


    And just like that, the Vice Boss crumpled to the ground. Dead. Faster than even I expected.


    I blinked. ¡°Huh. That was¡­ efficient.¡±


    Sebastian dusted off his gloves. ¡°You sound disappointed, sir.¡±


    I shrugged. ¡°Well, you know. I was expecting a bit more screaming.¡±


    Raven cawed in agreement.


    But no time to dwell on the ease of victory¡ªthere was still work to do.


    One down.


    One to go.


    The Boss was still inside, waiting for his minion to report back. Which meant he had no idea he was already alone.


    This was going to be fun.


    I retraced my steps back into the building, creeping along the walls like some kind of budget ninja. The Boss stood at the far end of the room, pacing. He kept glancing toward the stairs, waiting.


    I decided to help him out.


    I cleared my throat.


    He turned sharply, eyes scanning the room. ¡°Who¡¯s there?¡±


    I stepped forward just enough for him to see my silhouette. ¡°Hi. You seem lost.¡±


    His entire body tensed. ¡°You¡ª¡±


    ¡°Me.¡±


    His eyes flickered toward the door. Calculating. Weighing his odds.


    I let him.


    Because it didn¡¯t matter.


    ¡°You¡¯re the one causing all this trouble?¡± he finally asked.


    I placed a hand over my heart, mock offended. ¡°Wow. Just me? You wound me. I had help, you know.¡±


    He sneered. ¡°No matter. I¡¯ll deal with you myself.¡±


    Bold words.


    I gestured dramatically. ¡°By all means, give it your best shot.¡±


    And he did.


    He lunged, fast, aiming straight for my throat.


    But here¡¯s the thing about fighting someone who wants you to attack them.


    You¡¯re always going to lose.


    I sidestepped at the last second, twisting just enough for him to stumble past me.


    And that¡¯s when I hit him.


    Not with a punch.


    Not with a kick.


    But with a chair.


    Yes, a full-sized wooden chair, straight to the back.


    The impact sent him sprawling. He hit the ground hard, gasping.


    I stood over him, tossing the broken chair leg aside. ¡°Y¡¯know, you should really invest in better furniture.¡±


    He groaned, rolling onto his side. ¡°Bastard¡­¡±


    I crouched down next to him. ¡°Listen, buddy. You¡¯re not walking away from this. So, how about you make this easy and tell me something useful?¡±


    He spat blood onto the floor. ¡°Go to hell.¡±


    I sighed. ¡°See, that¡¯s not the kind of attitude that gets you to live longer.¡±


    I glanced at Sebastian. ¡°Any ideas?¡±


    Sebastian adjusted his gloves. ¡°I find that people are far more cooperative when given proper motivation.¡±


    The Boss¡¯s eyes darted toward him.


    Raven cawed.


    The Boss swallowed hard.


    I smirked. ¡°So. Wanna try that again?¡±


    He hesitated.


    Then, slowly, he exhaled. ¡°¡­The Black Moon isn¡¯t the only group after the Limit Breaking Event.¡±


    That got my attention.


    I leaned in. ¡°Go on.¡±


    His lips curled into a smirk, despite his injuries. ¡°There are others. Much worse than us.¡±


    I narrowed my eyes. ¡°Names.¡±


    He laughed. ¡°You think I¡¯d tell you? If I do, I¡¯m as good as dead.¡±


    I tilted my head. ¡°Bold of you to assume you¡¯re not already.¡±


    He flinched, but stayed quiet.


    Fine. If he didn¡¯t want to talk¡­


    I stood up, stretching. ¡°Alright. Sebastian, kill him.¡±


    Sebastian stepped forward immediately, because of course he did. Always the professional.


    And the Boss? He panicked.


    ¡°W-wait! Wait! I can tell you¡ª¡±


    Too late.


    One swift motion.


    A clean, efficient end.


    I sighed. ¡°Man. Some people just love learning things the hard way.¡±


    Sebastian wiped his blade clean. ¡°Shall we move on, sir?¡±


    I grinned. ¡°Yep. We¡¯ve still got a murder cow to steal.¡±


    Raven cawed in agreement.


    And just like that, another chapter of chaos concluded.


    Time for the next act.


    Now the only one left was the leader.


    He should have been as easy to deal with as the rest, but, of course, life never lets things go that smoothly.


    A surprise came not long after we decided to hunt him down¡ªhe came looking for his vice boss himself. Talk about initiative.


    So, this time, we were the ones caught off guard.


    We couldn¡¯t afford to lose, but there was one small problem: we had no idea what he was capable of. Outnumbering him should work in theory, but I wasn¡¯t willing to bet my life on it just yet.


    The boss entered the ruined base, scanning the area with a predator¡¯s gaze. Raven struck first, diving from above and clawing at his back, but the guy reacted too quickly, twisting to avoid any critical damage. His movements were precise¡ªtoo precise.


    ¡°Okay, not a pushover,¡± I muttered.


    The close quarters weren¡¯t helping us either. Less space meant fewer options to maneuver. Sebastian took his shot next, aiming a powerful strike at the boss¡¯s ribs.


    Bad move.


    The boss countered instantly, slamming Sebastian into the wall like a ragdoll.


    I had to do something, fast.


    A brilliant idea struck me.


    Me. I would be the weapon.


    Specifically, my age. There was no way this guy would expect a teenager to be the real threat here. The underestimated factor. The wild card. The ace up our collective sleeves.


    I threw a punch, deliberately sloppy. He backed off, clearly expecting an amateur move. That¡¯s when Raven struck again, this time sinking his talons into the boss¡¯s shoulder. A low growl of frustration rumbled from the man¡¯s throat as he stumbled.


    Sebastian recovered just in time to capitalize on the distraction. He dashed in, tackling the boss to the ground. The moment his back hit the floor, I moved in. No hesitation. I pulled out my knife and drove it straight into his heart.


    And just like that, he was gone.


    The air settled. The tension eased. And for the first time in a while, the voices decided to chime in.


    Solace, as always, was the first.


    ¡°Was it necessary to kill him?¡± he asked, voice ever the calm, collected moral compass.


    ¡°Yes,¡± I replied without missing a beat. ¡°We had no idea what else he was hiding. If he had some last-ditch ace up his sleeve, we could¡¯ve died. And second, no information from a dying enemy can ever be trusted.¡±


    Solace sighed but didn¡¯t argue. That was as close to approval as I was going to get from him.


    I checked on Sebastian and Raven. They were both out of breath but thankfully not injured. Good. We weren¡¯t done yet.


    Our next mission: locate our new family member.


    The bull.


    We made our way deeper into the base, moving with cautious steps. The basement was eerily quiet, wrapped in total darkness.


    Then, suddenly¡ª


    A caw.


    I perked up instantly. ¡°That¡¯s Raven!¡±


    The excitement was short-lived, though, because the next sound was the unmistakable noise of a scuffle.


    A big one.


    We rushed forward and, to our utter disbelief, found Raven locked in combat with the bull. And by combat, I mean Raven was furiously flapping his wings, cawing insults, while the bull¡ªwho was the size of a short human, by the way¡ªstood there looking murderous.


    Asher sighed. ¡°Poor soul.¡±


    And just like that, I was out of my body.


    Asher had taken over.


    His presence was different from mine¡ªsofter, gentler. My usual sharp, calculating aura was replaced by something angelic, almost comforting.


    He stepped forward, raising a hand toward the bull. ¡°You were hurt, right?¡± he said, voice warm. ¡°It¡¯s okay now. We won¡¯t hurt you. Don¡¯t worry, little soul.¡±


    The bull, who had been radiating unfiltered rage just moments ago, suddenly stilled. Its breathing steadied, and then¡ªjust like that¡ªit collapsed into Asher¡¯s arms. Like a child seeking comfort in a mother¡¯s embrace.


    Even Raven, who had been squawking threats at the bull, fell silent.


    I let Asher have his moment.


    A minute later, his voice echoed in my mind.


    ¡°Take over, Arthur.¡±


    He added one last thing before fading back into the depths of my consciousness.


    ¡°He¡¯s hurt. A lot. Be careful.¡±


    I returned to my body, blinking as the world snapped back into focus. The bull, still nestled against my chest, let out a low, tired grunt.


    Then I looked up.


    Two pairs of eyes were fixed on me.


    Sebastian and Raven.


    Their expressions were a mix of confusion, suspicion, and mild horror.


    ¡°What?¡± I said.


    They didn¡¯t answer immediately.


    Finally, Raven squawked.


    ¡°What. The hell. Was THAT?¡±


    I scratched the back of my head. ¡°Uh¡­ that wasn¡¯t me. Well¡ªit was me, but, like, not really me.¡±


    Sebastian narrowed his eyes. ¡°Do you expect us to just accept that?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    They both kept staring.


    I sighed. ¡°Look, you¡¯re gonna see this happen a lot, so get used to it.¡±


    ¡°¡­Hate that,¡± Raven muttered.


    ¡°Yeah, well, I hate getting bitten by my own bird, but here we are.¡±


    Raven huffed but didn¡¯t argue.


    With that settled,

 The True Start

    ¡°Arthur, there¡¯s some news.¡±


    I sighed. Solace¡¯s voice carried that all-too-familiar ¡®I¡¯m-about-to-ruin-your-day¡¯ energy, and honestly, I was starting to wonder if he even knew how to deliver good news.


    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s get this over with. How bad is it?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s actually bad news before the bad news.¡±


    I pinched the bridge of my nose. ¡°Oh great, a two-course meal of suffering. Lay it on me.¡±


    ¡°The universe is waking up.¡±


    I blinked. ¡°I feel like you¡¯re going to need to elaborate before I decide if this is existentially terrifying or just Tuesday.¡±


    ¡°Monsters aren¡¯t the only things evolving. Ancient civilizations¡ªones that have been dormant for eons¡ªare also stirring.¡±


    I took a deep breath. ¡°When you say ¡®ancient civilizations,¡¯ do you mean powerful, possibly godlike beings with an affinity for planetary conquest?¡±


    ¡°Exactly.¡±


    ¡°Cool, cool, cool.¡± I folded my arms. ¡°And let me guess, their favorite hobby isn¡¯t pottery or cultural festivals but good old-fashioned imperialism?¡±


    Solace sighed. ¡°Yes. They¡¯re expanding, and Earth is first in line for invasion.¡±


    ¡°Lovely.¡± I rubbed my temples. ¡°So, what¡¯s the slightly less catastrophic news?¡±


    ¡°Well, every living creature now has access to ten possible evolution pathways.¡±


    That got my attention. ¡°Wait¡ªten? As in, not just one pre-determined fate?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Each evolution pathway depends on the creature¡¯s top ten compatibility rankings.¡±


    I raised an eyebrow. ¡°You mean their natural inclinations, strengths, and personality quirks?¡±


    ¡°Exactly.¡±


    I sat back, mulling it over. ¡°So, you¡¯re saying I, Raven, Sebastian, and¡­ wait, did I even name the bull?¡±


    A brief silence stretched between us before I just shrugged. ¡°Vance. He looks like a Vance.¡±


    Solace didn¡¯t dignify that with a response.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± I continued, ¡°we all get to choose our evolution paths?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Sentient creatures get a choice. Non-sentient ones will evolve based on their strongest compatibility or at random.¡±


    ¡°Fascinating,¡± I murmured. ¡°So we¡¯re about to hit a major turning point?¡±


    ¡°Exactly.¡±


    I exhaled. ¡°And there¡¯s no undo button, is there?¡±


    ¡°No. Once an evolution path is chosen, it¡¯s irreversible.¡±


    I inhaled sharply. ¡°No pressure then.¡±


    Asher, ever the unhelpful voice, finally chimed in. ¡°Or, you could just pick the most chaotic option. Keeps things exciting.¡±


    I groaned. ¡°Why do I even listen to you?¡±


    ¡°Because I make things fun.¡±


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    ¡°Fun is not the word I¡¯d use.¡±


    ¡°I would,¡± Asher said smugly.


    I pushed him aside mentally and turned my attention back to reality. It was time to break this news to my equally chaotic companions.


    I found Raven and Sebastian perched near the edge of our makeshift camp, Vance lazily chewing on what looked like an unfortunate patch of grass. The three of them looked up as I approached, the expressions ranging from curiosity (Raven), skepticism (Sebastian), and general indifference (Vance, who was a bull and probably didn¡¯t have strong opinions on cosmic horror).


    ¡°Alright, team meeting,¡± I announced, clapping my hands together. ¡°Brace yourselves, because what I¡¯m about to tell you is, frankly, insane.¡±


    Sebastian crossed his arms. ¡°That describes most things that come out of your mouth.¡±


    ¡°Fair.¡± I cleared my throat. ¡°So, long story short: evolution is a thing now.¡±


    Raven tilted his head. ¡°You mean like growing wings or stronger talons?¡±


    ¡°Sort of. But on a much grander scale.¡± I gestured vaguely at the sky. ¡°Every living creature¡ªus included¡ªnow has access to ten different evolution pathways. And once we pick one, it¡¯s permanent.¡±


    Sebastian narrowed his eyes. ¡°We get to choose?¡±


    ¡°Yup. But only if we¡¯re sentient. Vance here¡­ well, his is gonna be up to fate.¡±


    The bull in question let out a low grunt. It might have been an objection. It might have been indigestion. Hard to say.


    ¡°Hold up,¡± Raven said. ¡°If we pick an evolution path, does that mean we change? Like, physically?¡±


    ¡°Yes. Depending on what you choose, you could get stronger, faster, or completely alter your abilities.¡±


    Sebastian looked thoughtful. ¡°And if we make the wrong choice?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s no going back.¡±


    Silence fell over the group as that sank in. Even Raven, normally unbothered by most things, looked pensive.


    Sebastian, ever the pragmatic one, frowned. ¡°Alright. So we wait until the moment comes and follow our instincts?¡±


    ¡°Pretty much.¡± I glanced at Vance, who was still chewing grass. ¡°And Vance¡­ well, let¡¯s hope the universe is kind.¡±


    The bull merely snorted.


    Asher chuckled. ¡°Let¡¯s just hope none of you end up looking like abominations.¡±


    I shuddered. ¡°Great. Now I have that mental image. Thanks, Asher.¡±


    ¡°Anytime.¡±


    I turned back to the group. ¡°Alright, team. We¡¯ll cross the evolution bridge when we get to it. Until then, let¡¯s focus on getting stronger.¡±


    Sebastian cracked his knuckles. ¡°Let¡¯s make sure we¡¯re ready.¡±


    Raven flapped his wings. ¡°I¡¯ll start practicing my aerial strikes.¡±


    Vance just snorted again.


    And me? Well, I braced myself for whatever ridiculousness was about to come next.


    Because if there¡¯s one thing I¡¯d learned by now, it was this:


    Things were always about to get worse.


    And I couldn¡¯t wait.


    Two days later, the time came.


    I was peacefully sleeping¡ªprobably dreaming of something either incredibly important or completely nonsensical¡ªwhen suddenly, a vacuum-like voice echoed through my head.


    I jolted awake, except... I wasn''t awake.


    Everything was pitch black. Not in the cozy, close-your-eyes kind of way, but in the terrifying "I-can''t-even-see-my-hands" kind of way.


    "You guys here?" I asked, expecting some sort of comforting, if snarky, response.


    "We are," they four of them responded in perfect unison, which, for the record, was both reassuring and extremely creepy.


    Then, as if the universe decided to mess with me, ten glowing pages appeared out of nowhere, floating ominously in the void. At first, I thought it was some kind of cosmic pop quiz. But then I realized¡ªthis was worse.


    Each page had a title and a description, listing pathways I could supposedly take. Seven were clearly related to the voices in my head, while the remaining three seemed to be based on my current, very unfortunate life choices.


    The first page read:


    Architect of Perfection


    Cons: Reaching perfection will require constant failure and immeasurable time to be truly perfect.


    No pros. Just that one, soul-crushing con staring back at me like a disappointed parent. It didn¡¯t take a genius to figure out this was Solace¡¯s influence.


    The second page:


    The True Fallen Angel


    Cons: Can never lean towards one side, neither good nor evil.


    I snorted. Asher. This was definitely Asher¡¯s influence. The guy couldn¡¯t commit to being a hero or a villain if his life depended on it.


    The third page:


    The Child of Chaos


    Cons: The mind forever stays as a child and playful.


    Riven. No doubt about it. And honestly? This one was way too accurate.


    The fourth page:


    The Hungry Monster


    Cons: Always stays hungry.


    Yep. Fang. Classic. At least this one was straightforward.


    The fifth page:


    The Tyrant of the Void


    Cons: Can never be rational and simple.


    I squinted. This one wasn¡¯t Fang¡¯s. That meant... Void. Who was, thankfully, still asleep. Because knowing him, he¡¯d make this pathway sound way cooler than it had any right to be.


    The sixth page:


    The Lazy Genius


    Pros: Master of everything. Cons: Forever lazy.


    Daze. Hands down. I mean, the con was literally his entire personality.


    The seventh page:


    The Truth Seeker


    No cons listed.


    Wait. What? That wasn¡¯t fair. Every other pathway had at least one major drawback. But knowing Greed, this meant the con was so horrible that they just conveniently decided not to list it.


    Solace said do you even know him?


    I ignored him.


    Then came the three that weren¡¯t connected to the voices:


    The Adapter


    Cons: Overthinker.


    I frowned. This one felt... oddly personal. As if the universe itself was pointing at me and whispering, "Yeah, this guy has issues."


    The Sovereign


    Cons: Can never work without subordinates.


    Oh. Well. I guess that made sense, considering Sebastian and Raven had been running around doing a lot of my heavy lifting lately.


    And finally, the last option:


    The All-Rounder


    Cons: ???


    Huh? I leaned in, squinting. The text glitched and warped as if reality itself didn¡¯t want me to know.


    "That¡¯s not concerning at all," I muttered.


    The voices were dead silent for a moment. Well, not all of them. Solace, Asher, Riven, and Fang were already arguing over which path I should take.


    "Architect of Perfection is the only logical choice," Solace insisted.


    "No, True Fallen Angel gives the most versatility," Asher countered.


    "Guys, Child of Chaos is literally perfect. I mean, come on, you¡¯d never get bored!" Riven said, way too excitedly.


    "Pick Hungry Monster. Trust me," Fang added. "It¡¯s the most... satisfying."


    "Not helping, Fang."


    Meanwhile, Void, Daze, and Green remained silent in their deep slumber, which, honestly, was a blessing.


    After a long, headache-inducing debate where absolutely nothing was agreed upon, I stared at the last option again.


    The All-Rounder.


    No cons I could see. Balanced. Versatile.


    "Screw it, we¡¯re picking this one," I declared, before anyone could object.


    The moment I did, the pages vanished, and a strange sensation washed over me. It was like my entire existence was shifting, my abilities stretching and morphing in ways I couldn¡¯t understand yet.


    Then, everything went black again.


    And when I woke up, I was back in bed.


    I sat up with a groan. "Well, that was weird."


    The voices, of course, had opinions.


    "You should¡¯ve picked mine."


    "No, mine was better."


    "At least you didn¡¯t pick Child of Chaos."


    "Hey! Rude!"


    I sighed. This was going to be a long day.