Marcus groaned as he slowly opened his eyes.
A sharp, sterile smell filled his nose. The white ceiling above him buzzed faintly with fluorescent lights. His body ached all over, and the moment he tried to sit up, a bolt of pain ran through his arms.
"Whoa there, take it easy," a voice said from his left.
Marcus turned his head to see a nurse in a white and navy uniform gently placing a hand on his shoulder. "You've been unconscious for three days. Try not to move too fast."
"Three… days?" Marcus muttered, his voice hoarse. "Where… where am I?"
"You're at North Star General Hospital," the nurse replied. "You were brought in by two members of the Paranormal Control Association. They said you were attacked by… a wild animal." She raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced by the explanation. "But given your condition… I'd say it was something more."
Marcus's head throbbed as flashes of memory returned—
The monster.
The portal.
The wasteland.
The giant sword.
The battle.
He reached down to his arms and hands, expecting to feel the weight of the armor from before, but nothing was there. His skin was bare—no sword, no armor, just bandages. He clenched his fists tightly. What the hell happened to me?
The door to his room opened, and in stepped the two men from before.
"Ah, you're awake," the first man said with a smile. He wore a sleek black uniform with gold details and the same sharp look in his lilac eyes as before.
"Name's Tyrese Valefor. I'm an Enforcer for the Paranormal Control Association. This sleepy guy behind me is my partner, Geoffrey."
Geoffrey raised a hand lazily. "Sup."
Marcus narrowed his eyes. "Why am I here? What was that thing that attacked me? And what the hell did I do back there… that sword…?"
Tyrese folded his arms. "We were hoping you could tell us. What you did wasn't normal. That sword you summoned? It's what we call a Soul Gear, more specifically, an Eidolon Relic. Only a handful of people in the world can wield one—and you're one of them."
Geoffrey added, "It means you've got a connection to something ancient… something powerful. These weapons bond to your soul and manifest when your will to survive is stronger than your fear of death."
Marcus stared at them, trying to process it all. "So what? I'm some kind of chosen one now?"
Tyrese chuckled. "Not exactly. But your life's never going back to normal. From this point forward, you're on the radar of gods, monsters, and the deadliest beings to ever walk this Earth."
Marcus exhaled slowly, rubbing his eyes. "You're kidding…"
"We're not," Geoffrey said, more serious now. "You've been marked. That Abyssmorph targeted you specifically. And it won't be the last."
Marcus sat in silence.
Tyrese walked forward and dropped a black envelope onto the bedside table. "Inside is a card. If you want answers—real answers—come to this address when you're discharged. It's the entrance to the Association."
He turned to leave but paused at the door. "Oh, and Marcus? That sword you summoned? It chose you. Don't waste the second chance it gave you."
With that, both men exited, leaving Marcus alone.
He lay back in the hospital bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, his heart pounding with uncertainty.
Kiya… is she okay?
My home, my life—what the hell have I gotten myself into?
But more than fear, something else stirred deep inside him. A quiet whisper. A resolve.
He would get stronger. He would find out the truth.
Because now… he knew the supernatural was real. And his role in it had only just begun.