Kael's breath came in ragged gasps as he stumbled backward, heart pounding in his chest. His body felt like it was on fire—his veins burning hot with energy he couldn't control. The thugs lay around him, sprawled out in various stages of unconsciousness, their faces bruised and battered. His fists were clenched, and when he opened his palm to examine it, he saw the blood. The red, sticky evidence of the fight that had spiraled out of control.
But it wasn't just theirs.
His hands were stained—smeared in blood that didn't belong to anyone around him. His chest tightened, and panic began to crawl up his throat. The feeling of something strange, something otherworldly, pulsing inside him was overwhelming.
"I—I didn't mean to…" Kael muttered to himself, wiping his palms on his ragged pants, but it only smeared the blood further.
He turned in a daze, his body trembling from the aftershocks of whatever had happened. As he stumbled away, his foot caught something hard—a metal pipe, an old piece of debris. The ground shifted beneath him, and he fell to his knees, the world spinning.
Suddenly, the ground seemed to shake—rumble—a low, ominous sound beneath the broken pavement. The air grew hot, heavy, charged with an energy he didn't understand.
Then, everything went black.
When Kael opened his eyes, the world was still dark. But it wasn't the dead of night—it was the aftermath of a storm, or a fire. The air was thick with smoke, and a pungent, acrid scent filled his nostrils. His head throbbed with the kind of pain that made his skull feel like it was cracking open.
He pushed himself up, instinctively reaching for his ribs. They were sore, but nothing too bad. No broken bones, at least.
His surroundings were a mess. The alley was charred, the walls blackened, the rubble smoldering from the force of whatever had happened. He tried to push himself to his feet, but his legs felt weak, and he almost collapsed again. Then, a heavy groan echoed from one of the fallen gang members nearby.
They were all unconscious—each of the thugs he'd fought with lay sprawled across the pavement, blood pooling around their heads. The sheer destruction was staggering. The walls around him had crumbled. Several of the nearby buildings were on fire, their windows cracked, smoke billowing out in heavy clouds.
Kael's breath hitched. This wasn't just a regular fight. His body had done something else. Something more. His mind raced as the memories of the fight came flooding back: his movements, faster than he'd ever experienced, the glowing veins, the sensation of power, and the destructive force that followed.
Had he… done this? Was this him?
His fingers trembled as he reached up to touch his forehead, feeling the cold sweat there. His thoughts were a blur. His heart hammered against his ribcage, and he could barely process what had happened.
"What the hell did I do?" he muttered under his breath.
But there was no time to dwell on the carnage. His senses were still on high alert, like a predator whose instincts refused to settle.
Then, a voice pierced the quiet chaos.
"Well, well, looks like someone's got more than just a fight in them…"
Kael whipped around, his muscles tensing. His eyes darted to the rooftops.
A shadow stood there, framed against the burning orange sky—tall, cloaked, and enigmatic, a figure watching from above, unmoving, as though they had been waiting for him to awaken.
Kael's breath caught in his throat. He didn't know who this person was, but instinct told him they were not here for the usual street fight. This was someone—or something—different.
The figure's eyes, gleaming from beneath the shadow of the hood, narrowed.
"You shouldn't have done that," the figure said, their voice low, almost amused. "This… awakening… it's never easy."
Kael's pulse quickened. "Who are you?"
The figure didn't answer right away. Instead, they slowly stepped back, melding with the shadows, their form disappearing as if they were never there.
Kael stood frozen, his chest rising and falling rapidly, eyes scanning the rooftops. Nothing. No sign of the figure. Just the flickering lights from the burning buildings, the smell of smoke, and the soft crackling of flames.
His mind raced. Who was that? And why were they watching him?
But there was no time to think. The sound of approaching footsteps pulled him from his thoughts. He turned to see the gang members beginning to stir, groaning and pushing themselves up from the pavement. They hadn't been killed, but they were badly hurt. Kael had left a trail of destruction, a chaotic wake of violence, and he wasn't sure how much longer the slums would remain silent about it.
With the adrenaline still pumping through his veins, he backed away, taking one last look at the scorched street. His instincts screamed at him to get out of there. He couldn't afford to stick around for questions. He needed answers, but not here. Not now.
Kael ran.
As he sprinted down the alley, his heart raced, but something inside him still burned with a strange energy. His veins were still pulsing, though the glow had faded. Whatever had happened… it was only the beginning. And the more he tried to ignore it, the more it dragged him deeper into a world he didn't understand.
For the first time in his life, he wasn't just running to survive. He was running to find the truth.
And the truth, he felt, was going to change everything.