1. The Ambush Begins
The night air was cool against Kian's skin as he walked alongside his parents. His body ached from the tournament, each step sending sharp reminders of the battles he had endured. His mind was still replaying the fights, analyzing every moment.
He should have dodged faster against Vera. Her time-based abilities had been devastating, and even though he had managed to overpower her in the end, it was only because she had already exhausted herself countering his relentless attacks. If she had been at full strength, he might not have won.
The other fighters had been strong, too. There had been contenders who could have easily risen to the top if circumstances had played out differently. He recalled the precision of a spear-wielding combatant, the sheer brute force of a powerhouse who had shattered the arena floor with his strikes, and the versatility of those who had mastered their abilities with terrifying efficiency.
And then there was himself.
Kian clenched his fist. His own power had been a rampaging storm, barely contained. The tournament had been a showcase of potential, a glimpse into the future of those who had awakened—but for him, it had been a warning. He had lost control.
The moment flashed in his mind: the surge of energy, the fear in the eyes of the officials, the gasps of the crowd. They were afraid of him.
His parents hadn't spoken about it. They had only congratulated him, his father patting his back with quiet pride, his mother giving him a small, knowing smile. But Kian wasn't a fool. They had noticed.
His mother had always been a mystery, her eyes sharp, calculating, as if she saw too much of the world. His father was more straightforward—a man of action rather than thought—but even he had been more watchful than usual.
Kian let out a slow breath.
The streets were quiet. The festival celebrating the Awakening Ceremony was dying down, the lights of the city flickering as vendors packed up their stalls. The distant sound of laughter and music barely reached them. The walk back home should have been peaceful.
It wasn't.
The moment the presence hit him, Kian knew something was wrong.
The air grew heavy, charged with something unnatural. His father stiffened beside him, his fingers twitching as sparks flickered around his knuckles. His mother's stride didn't falter, but Kian could see the slight tilt of her head—she had already noticed.
Kian turned his gaze forward. They were there.
Six figures stepped into the dimly lit street, their movements precise, deliberate. They were draped in dark uniforms, their faces concealed by sleek masks. Their presence alone was suffocating.
Kian didn't need to ask who they were. They were here for him.
One of them took a step forward, his voice cold and emotionless.
"We're here for the boy."
Kian's breath caught in his throat. His mind, which had been filled with tournament strategies and regrets, went completely blank.
His mother stopped walking.
His father's fists clenched tighter. The electricity around him grew wilder, sparking against the pavement. Kian felt the familiar hum of energy, the warning before a storm.
Kairo's voice was quiet, yet it cut through the night like a blade.
"Over our dead bodies."
The figures didn't hesitate.
They attacked.
2. The Villains Make Their Move
The street erupted into chaos.
Kian barely had time to process the sheer speed of the attack. The brute moved first. His massive frame shot forward like a cannonball, the ground beneath him cracking from the force of his launch.
Kairo met him head-on.
Lightning surged, emerald bolts illuminating the night as Kairo's fist collided with the villain's charge. The impact sent a shockwave rippling through the air, the pavement beneath them shattering. Sparks danced violently around them as Kairo twisted, using the force of the clash to redirect his opponent's momentum.
The brute slid back but didn't fall. Instead, he grinned.
"Not bad," he rumbled, rolling his shoulders. "But I'm not here to play games."
He moved again, this time even faster. Kairo barely had time to react.
A second figure flickered into motion—a lean, sharp-eyed villain who barely made a sound as he swiped a hand through the air.
Kian's instincts screamed at him.
He turned just in time to see a wave of jagged ice explode from the villain's fingertips, streaking toward them like a frozen tidal wave.
Lena moved.
She raised a hand, and space itself bent.
The ice never reached them. Instead, it splintered midair, its trajectory forcibly shifted away. The deadly shards embedded themselves harmlessly into nearby buildings, leaving deep, frostbitten scars in the stone.
The ice-user clicked his tongue in mild annoyance. "Tch. Spatial interference."
Kian was still frozen in place, his pulse thundering in his ears.
His father was holding his own against the brute. His mother was effortlessly redirecting the ice-wielder's attacks.
And yet—
There were still four others.
One of them finally spoke, his voice calm, detached.
"You're resisting."
It wasn't a question.
Kian's mother exhaled, her expression unreadable. "Did you expect otherwise?"
There was a pause.
Then—
"So be it."
The remaining four villains surged forward.
Lena vanished from Kian's side.
She reappeared mid-air, intercepting the next attacker before they could land a blow.
Kairo roared, lightning bursting outward in violent arcs, forcing the brute back once more.
The ice-wielder adjusted, shifting tactics, his next attack coming from a different angle—
Kian flinched as another wave of ice shot toward him.
His mother was too far. His father was still locked in battle.
The attack was aimed directly at him.
Instinct took over.
Kian raised a trembling hand, feeling the familiar pull of his power—
A green spark flickered at his fingertips.
It wasn't enough.
The ice kept coming.
Kian braced himself—
And then his mother was there.
She appeared in front of him, warping through space faster than his eyes could track. She raised a single hand, and the ice shattered before it could reach them.
Her gaze never left the enemy.
Kian's breath came in short, uneven gasps. He was slowing them down. He was supposed to be strong, supposed to fight.
Instead, he was frozen.
The villains weren't holding back.
And neither were his parents.
For the first time in his life, Kian truly understood—
This wasn't a tournament.
This was life or death.
And right now, they were losing.
3. The Final Stand
Kian's heart was pounding. His breath came in ragged gasps, his muscles locked in place as he watched the battlefield unfold before him. His mother and father were holding their ground, but the sheer number and overwhelming power of the enemy were beginning to take their toll.
The brute—a monster of raw strength—had finally overpowered Kairo, driving him back with earth-shaking blows. His father's green lightning lashed out violently, but the villain kept coming, unfazed, relentless.
The ice-wielder had switched tactics, no longer wasting energy trying to freeze Kian but instead aiming directly at Lena, forcing her to use her spatial powers constantly to evade and counter.
And then there were the others.
A fourth villain, a woman wrapped in dark fabric, raised a hand—shadows coiled around her fingers, flickering like living smoke. At her command, the darkness surged forward, wrapping around Kairo's limbs, slowing him down just enough.
The brute didn't hesitate.
He struck.
Kian's father gritted his teeth and twisted at the last second, but the attack still landed solidly against his ribs, sending him flying through the air. He crashed against the pavement, skidding across the broken ground before coming to a stop.
Kian felt his stomach drop.
His father wasn't moving.
"No… no, no, no," Kian whispered, his voice trembling.
His mother warped beside Kairo in an instant, kneeling at his side, her hands glowing faintly as she tried to assess his injuries.
The villains did not let up.
Another one stepped forward—a man with jagged, glowing veins running along his arms. With a wicked grin, he slammed his hands against the ground.
A violent shockwave erupted outward.
Kian barely had time to react before the entire street exploded beneath them.
The End of the Line
When the dust cleared, Kian could barely breathe.
His mother and father were still standing—but barely.
Kairo was bleeding heavily, one arm hanging limply at his side. His breath was ragged, uneven.
Lena, despite her perfect posture, had blood trailing from the corner of her mouth. She had been protecting Kairo.
Kian could see it now. They weren't going to make it.
And the villains knew it.
The brute scoffed. "You fought well."
The ice-wielder tilted his head, his cold gaze locked onto Kian. "But this was inevitable."
Lena's fingers twitched.
Kairo exhaled sharply.
Kian couldn't move.
He saw it before it happened.
The villains launched their final attack—a combined assault meant to kill them both instantly.
Kairo stepped forward.
Lena grabbed Kian's wrist.
The world fractured.
Kian saw his father take the full brunt of the attack—lightning and darkness and raw, unstoppable force crashing into him at once.
He saw his mother twist the space around them, her power straining against the weight of reality itself.
She turned toward him—
Her expression was gentle, despite everything.
And then she spoke.
"Grow up big and happy."
"And become strong." His father's voice, weak but firm.
Kian screamed.
The world warped.
And then—
Everything vanished.
4. The Awakening of True Power
Kian landed hard.
The teleportation had been instant, but the moment he reappeared, his body gave out. His knees slammed into the ground, his breathing sharp and ragged, his entire frame trembling uncontrollably. His limbs felt disconnected from his body, and his mind—
His mind was breaking.
The weight of what had just happened crashed over him like an unstoppable tide.
It wasn't real.
It couldn't be real.
He could still hear their voices. His father's stern but proud tone. His mother's warmth, the way she always saw straight through him. He could still feel her touch as she sent him away, as she whispered her last words—
"Grow up big and happy."
The words rang in his skull, twisting like a dagger in his chest.
Kian's breathing hitched.
They were gone.
A strong hand suddenly caught his shoulder.
Kian barely reacted at first—his mind still trapped in the horror of what had just happened. But then he felt it.
Power.
It was unlike anything he had ever sensed before. Vast. Unshakable. Like standing at the edge of an abyss that had no bottom.
Kian's instincts screamed at him.
The person who had caught him wasn't just strong. He was something else entirely the man felt as strong if not stronger than his parents.
Through the haze, Kian forced himself to look up.
An old man.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, and draped in a cloak that barely concealed the sheer strength behind his presence. His hair was streaked with silver, but his sharp, weathered features showed no weakness. His eyes—**deep and unreadable—**studied Kian with something strange.
Curiosity.
The old man exhaled slowly.
"Hah. So this is what the world was trembling over."
His grip on Kian tightened just slightly, as if testing something.
Then, his gaze hardened.
"I see." His voice was quiet but carried an undeniable weight. "You've just lost everything."
The world shattered.
The words slammed into Kian's chest like a hammer. His breath stilled. His pupils dilated.
"Lost everything."
"Everything."
And then—
The storm broke.
A sharp, deafening CRACK split the air as emerald lightning erupted from his body. The ground beneath him exploded, deep fissures carving into the earth as an unseen force surged outward. The sky darkened, the wind howling, charged with a presence too overwhelming to contain.
His veins pulsed, glowing with raw energy.
His lightning—wild and untamed—lashed out violently, but it wasn't alone.
Something darker. Something deeper.
A gravitational force warped the space around him, crushing the air itself. The cracks beneath him widened, as if reality itself was bending under the force of his emotions. The lightning fed into it, amplifying the destruction, twisting into something beyond just electricity.
Aether.
Void.
Both of his powers—fully unleashed.
And he wasn't thinking.
He wasn't planning. He wasn't controlling.
He was instinct.
He was rage.
His power spiraled, rising beyond anything he had ever touched before. The very air around him collapsed inward before violently bursting outward, sending debris flying like cannon fire.
Destroy.
His body moved.
His hand rose, sparks dancing at his fingertips, his mind blank except for one singular, deafening urge—
LET. IT. ALL. GO.
Just as the final surge reached its peak—
A hand clamped onto the back of his neck.
The force behind it was immeasurable. It wasn't just strength—it was an absolute, crushing weight, an unmovable force that shut everything down instantly.
Kian's vision blurred. His body locked up, his muscles convulsing from the sudden interference. The storm that had been raging—the all-consuming destruction that was moments away from tearing everything apart—
Vanished.
The last thing he heard before darkness took him was the old man's voice.
Low. Calm. Unshaken.
"…You have potential."
A small nod.
Then silence.
END OF CHAPTER 2.