Ep 3
The hospital's heavy doors swung open with a sigh, breathing Seth into the city night.
The rain had stopped, but the streets still glistened like glass, reflecting the sickly yellow glow of the streetlights. Bucharest pulsed quietly around him: cars droning, neon flickering, a stray dog chasing invisible enemies.
Victor had offered to drive him home, but Seth had refused.
He needed to walk. To feel the city's wounds under his feet. To remember why he had survived.
His steps were slow, deliberate. Every sound, every shadow seemed amplified. The Ancient Eye flickered at the edge of his consciousness, begging to be opened, but he resisted.
Not yet.
He passed a row of closed shops. Broken windows boarded up with cheap wood. Posters peeling off the walls, their bright slogans now hollow:
"Become a Savior! Join the Future!"
A bitter taste rose in his mouth.
Seth's mind wandered, trying to stretch toward the future—but it was like walking on shattered glass. Every memory cut into him. Maia's laughter. Her tiny arms hugging his neck. The soft whisper of his wife's hair brushing his cheek.
All gone.
Collateral damage.
The words rang like a mockery in his skull.
Without meaning to, Seth found himself near a small square—one he used to cross every day. Children played here once, chasing pigeons and drawing chalk castles. Now, it was abandoned. Cracks snaked through the pavement. A rusty swing creaked back and forth in the breeze, though no one was there.
And then he saw it.
A man standing under a flickering lamp post. Or... not a man.
The Ancient Eye, even unopened, pulsed at the edge of his soul, sensing it. The "man"'s outline shimmered subtly, like a mirage in the desert. His shadow moved separately, crawling unnaturally over the broken ground.
Seth stopped.
His heart pounded, not from fear—but from a deep, instinctive recognition. A predator seeing another predator.
He could activate his abilities. He could confront it. Tear the mask away. Break the creature beneath.
The temptation was a blade pressed against his skin.
"You are the fire reborn."
The words of the ancient voice clawed through him.
But Seth clenched his fists until his nails bit into his palms. He wouldn't—couldn't—start yet. Not without understanding the rules of this new game. Not until he was sure he wouldn't become worse than what he hunted.
The "man" under the lamp post tilted his head slightly, as if aware he was being watched. His smile—too wide, too sharp—gleamed for a moment in the darkness.
And then he vanished.
No footsteps. No sound. Just—gone.
Seth exhaled slowly, his breath misting in the cold air.
Not yet, he told himself.
But soon.
The city moaned around him, tired and wounded.
And Seth, the last Apex, walked deeper into the night, carrying the fire of vengeance silently burning in his chest.
The hunt had not begun.
But it would.