After what seemed like an eternity, the pain subsided. Before Fannum could even think, he fell unconscious.
"Good the boy has assimilated with the power, now it's up to him to harness the abilities of gluttony, and find the others to create anew." The now fading voice coming from the last strand of energy claimed. It and the pressure it emitted were now gone.
As Fannum lay asleep, unbeknownst to him a scrawny boy of similar age approached him. In appearance, Fannum and this boy were similar, both were skinny and fatigued, both had dark brown hair, though the boys was longer then Fannum's, and both had sharp eye brows. Though Fannum unlike the boy had a sharp jawline and abyss like eyes.
As the boy encroached on Fannums unconscious body, it became apparent that the boy was injured and extremely weak, perhaps weaker then Fannum in that moment. Once he got close, he peered down at Fannum, he was cautious and was making sure that the boy in front of him was either dead or unconscious. After confirming Fannums state, the boy proceeded to reach for Fannums pockets, as if to rob him.
whoosh
Suddenly a blackish-purple energy collapsed on the boy. The boy didn't even have time to scream, in an instant he was gone, he had vanished like he was never even there. There was no trace, no blood, nor fabric from his torn and worn out clothes.
...
Shortly after, Fannum awoke. He opened his eyes to the familiar seen of dark and gritty alleyway walls, the scars of poverty and crime staining them. Fannum took a deep inhale, it was then that he smelt the familiar scent of musk and iron, the iron scent was reminiscent of blood. And knowing the slums, Fannum knew it was just that. Fannum thought he was dead, and due to dying here last, he was now stuck here in the after life.
Though soon enough, his mind cleared. And Fannum realized just how real and dangerous his situation was.
"Damn, I can feel the blood on my back and the cold rocky ground! I'm I not dead after all!" Fannum exclaimed, he was happy to still be alive. He had things he needed to do, and he couldn't do them if he was dead. Though he wasn't sure how he was still alive. He chalked it up to the distorted voice from before. Plus he didn't have the time to dwell on it right now, he needed to get back to his home.
"Fuck! It's night, I need to get moving." Fannum realized that night had fallen, night was very dangerous in the slums, especially for easy prey like him.
Fannum rose weakly, just because he wasn't dead didn't mean he wasn't starving, thirsty, and weak. And so he began walking back shifting through the alleyways, houses, and along the crevasse's of buildings. The journey to his secluded little hut was painful but worth it.
"Sigh, home sweet home." Arriving at the sight of some shabby planks put together to form some semblance of a structure, Fannum let out a sigh of relief. Though he hadn't made the structure, he had evicted the original owners corpse, claiming the shabby hut for himself.
Creeeeaaakkk
The loose and ready to breakdown door of the hut made an obnoxious creaking sound as Fannum opened it.
"Finally" Fannum muttered as he tumbled onto his bed.