The sounds of screams, crumbling buildings, carnage, and fighting fill the air as one man stands alone, surrounded by bodies.

He's not sure if the blood staining his dark gray suit is his, his victims, or a mixture of both. Nonetheless, a wide grin sits over his face.

"You scum! You started all this! Die!" Someone behind him screams in Korean. He leaps at the bloodied man, splitting into three identical bodies that all rush him.

The suited fellow turns a dark eye to appraise his next target. "So cute how South Korea, Russia, and Germany are banding together just for little old me. But, on a whole… you're all still pathetic." His voice is distinctly English, though hard to place from which area.

Pieces of rubble spring to life, twisting and banding together to whip around and impale the attackers with one giant metal spike.

The man inhales a deep breath of smoke and blood into his lungs. "…Beautiful."

He revels in the chaos around him, feeling strengthened by it. He is Cursed. Grand power, with no 'drawback,' no balancing his power like a idiotic Gifted would have.

And the only drawback is a little mental instability? He had lived his whole life with mental instability. Slowly, he begins to laugh, and laugh, until tears are falling down his cheeks.

"Oh, how great it will be to finally be king!" He cries for everyone nearby to hear.

***

26 years later…

***

Thunder storms overhead, accompanied by a young woman's screams. A few minutes later, only the thunder remains.

After the sight he's witnessed, even the husband is sweating, his poor hand threatening to fall off from lack of blood flow. Still, he smiles at his wife, who is cradling the baby she just birthed. Another resounding crash of thunder sounds overhead, and as if drawn to it, the baby reaches its hand out.

"…Rayne," the woman says, her soft voice cutting clearly through the echoes of the storm.

"Happy Birthday, Rayne."

***

Another 17 years later…

***

"Quiet down, class. Today will be an easy lesson, so take your notes and follow along, alright?"

Over half of the high schoolers filling the room groan, including a boy named Tycen. The tall kid turns his head to look at his best friend, who is quietly doodling in his "notebook" — As out in the middle of nowhere as they are, normal things are rare, so everyone's notebooks, folders and binders were stapled pieces of paper and thin cardboard.

Not to mention the phones they owned were homemade, pieces of scrap metal and components to make ugly piles of junk that somehow functioned and charged without issue.

Leaning over, Tycen can see Rayne's doodles, which consists of one theme: Superpowers, superpowered beings, and costumes to match. He lets out a sigh that the other boy, of average height, can't hear. Tycen could see existing Gifted Control Force Rankers, like Starfall, and Whirlwind, as well as ones Rayne had clearly thought of himself — a girl growing wool around her and a poorly drawn thug, or a boy who left a trail of fire behind him. They weren't artist level, but it was evident that the boy had a lot of… practice.

Tycen's attention was pulled back to the teacher as she finally began the lesson.

"48 years ago, in May of 2018, the first RECORDED Gifted was found. He was actually arrested on suspicion of cheating in a casino, which he was. He had a special coin, and as long as he flipped heads, he had the best luck anyone could possibly have, whereas tails would do the opposite. An investigation into him and his DNA allowed associations to find more of these Gifted, even sparking the creation of the Gifted Control Force, back then known as the Gifted Investigations Specialists. Now, what MAIN three types of government systems that existed back then?"

Looking past a girl with glasses the size of her head raising her hand excitedly, the teacher frowns at a brown-haired boy, his hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, with his long bangs bobby-pinned back on the right side of his head. His head was buried in his notebook, scribbling away.

"Rayne?"

He looks up, pausing. His eyes land on the image of the slideshow showing on the large screen. Even the school didn't have proper funds for new things, like the disk that displayed 3D holographic images. Instead, they were stuck with old ceiling projectors connected to barely newer laptops by thick, klunky cables.

But the boy took one look at the image of the man, as well as the words, before returning his head back to his drawings. "Federal, confederate, and… I dunno, monarchy?"

"Close. Unitary," she sighs, clearly exasperated, but defeated. Tycen grins. "Man, if you studied like how you do with those ancient fighting videos you watch, you'd get all 100s."

"And if you had any brains under all that meat, you might too," Rayne shoots back without missing a beat, their voices loud whispers as the teacher continues. Rayne wasn't far off; Tycen looked like a dark-skinned man, his head sticking out far above the rest of the class and built almost like a bodybuilder. They pay little attention to the class itself. as they've all heard the story by now; everyone is robotically writing down notes, spacing out as the lesson drones on.


By 2023, the first truly powerful Cursed appeared in Eastern Asia, quickly overpowering the Gifteds who had turned their egos to resolving petty crimes or furthering science. The main difference between the two was obvious — The Gifted were pure, and as such they were granted Gifts. But with great power, comes great sacrifice. Every Gift had a tradeoff, which would be better or worse depending on how strong it was.

But Curses didn't have such a drawback to them. They were thought to be so powerful, it drove its user insane with their solely destructive powers. They were granted power in exchange for a piece of their humanity.


And among them all, the Elemental Demons rose.


"Dude, that's disgusting. How is that much drool coming out of your mouth?"

Tycen startles awake to Rayne's sideways face, peering at him in disgusted awe. He chuckles a bit, giving the other boy a light shove as he stood up from his desk, wiping his mouth. "How long has class been out?"

Rayne checks his watch. "Three days."

"Har har."

He and Rayne both laugh this time, but Rayne calms first. "Three MINUTES. Come on, Sleeping Ugly."

"I know your generic white-looking ass isn't talking," Tycen grins, leading the way to the door with his bag slung over his shoulder. Rayne only rolls his eyes at his comment, following along until they are outside. Tycen stretches his back, taking in the harsh sunlight. "We're free! Three and a half months of no more school, then one more year, and we'll officially be adults," he says, sighing. Rayne nudges his shoulder, hopping down the one step of the old school onto the sidewalk.

"Let's start with the three and a half months, idiot."

Tycen shrugs, walking with Rayne back to his house. His friend was right. They were in the one safe haven on the planet, away from any Cursed.

He would start by enjoying the next few months to the fullest of his ability.