Intrigued, Elliot pushed open the creaky wooden door and stepped inside. The shop's interior was as worn as its exterior, with various weapons, armor, and tools hanging haphazardly on the walls. The flickering light of a few oil lamps cast eerie shadows that danced along the rugged shelves.
At the center of the shop, a stocky dwarven man was engaged in a remarkable display of craftsmanship. He hammered away at two short swords simultaneously, each blow precise and measured. The dwarf's muscles bulged with every strike, and his brow was furrowed in intense concentration.
Unable to contain his curiosity, Elliot approached the dwarf and remarked, "I've never seen anyone smith two weapons at once."
The dwarf grunted in response, not bothering to pause his work. The rhythm of his hammering continued unabated, creating a mesmerizing spectacle of skill and dedication.
Despite the dwarf's silence, something about the scene compelled Elliot to stay. He found himself captivated by the intricate dance of metalwork and craftsmanship, losing track of time as he watched the crafting process unfold before him.
The dwarf sudden shout interrupted his daze, "I need something! These swords aren't complete yet."
Elliot, intrigued, asked, "What do you need?"
The dwarf grumbled and muttered something unintelligible, but Elliot caught the word "essence." It seemed the dwarf needed something more than just metal to finish his work.
The dwarf furrowed his brow and grumbled, "I need... essence. Special essence. Not just metal. Understand?"
Elliot scratched his head, struggling to comprehend the dwarf's words. "Essence? What do you mean?"
The dwarf waved his hands in frustration and mumbled incoherently.
Elliot shrugged, realizing communication was futile. As he pondered what to do next, the voice in his mind spoke again, urging him to "bleed on the swords."
Startled, Elliot turned to the dwarf and asked, "Did you hear that?"
The dwarf raised an eyebrow, clearly baffled by Elliot's question. "Hear what, lad?"
The voice persisted, repeating the same words, "bleed on it."
Gritting his teeth and feeling a mix of curiosity and anxiety, Elliot pulled out a small dagger he had and made a shallow cut on his palm. Blood welled up, and he held his bleeding hand over the unfinished swords.
The dwarf's eyes widened as he watched the scarlet drops fall onto the blades. "Keep going, lad! It's working!"
As Elliot continued to bleed onto the swords, a mesmerizing transformation began, and scarlet vein-like lines started to appear on the silver blades, their surfaces pulsating with newfound energy. The dwarf kept hammering at the swords, and Elliot kept bleeding on it, after some time, the dwarf said, "Enough lad, I need to balance all the energies now,"
"Okay," Elliot nodded, his regeneration kicking in to make up for the loss of blood, unbeknownst to him, his ability had a cost. But he had never experienced it, so he used his passive recklessly.
Elliot's bracelet beeped, interrupting the awe-inspiring moment with a reminder: "School ends in 2 hours."
Cursing under his breath, he glanced at the dwarf and said, "Oh shit, old man, I have to run."
The dwarf shouted after him, "Wait! The swords, take them wi-"
But Elliot was already out the door and sprinting toward the public transport hub, leaving the dwarf and the twin swords behind in the workshop.
As Elliot sprinted towards the public transport hub, he felt an unusual burst of energy coursing through his veins, propelling him faster than he'd ever run before. He darted past pedestrians with superhuman speed, leaving them in a blur of confusion.
"Whoa, was that...Elliot?" Mike, the kid who looked down upon him earlier, exclaimed as he watched Elliot zip by.
Mrs. Simmons, an elderly woman who usually sold fresh fruit by the street, squinted her eyes and muttered to herself, "That boy's got ants in his pants today."
District O52 whizzed by in a blur of dilapidated buildings and run-down structures. The grimy streets, once familiar to him, now seemed like a backdrop in a dream. He arrived at the public transport hub, a sprawling complex of interconnected platforms and hovering transport vehicles.
The hub was a cacophony of activity, with commuters bustling to and fro. Hovertrains glided in and out, while teleportation stations hummed with the energy of people materializing and dematerializing. Advertisements for various products, schools, and abilities flashed on holographic screens.
Elliot approached the ticket terminal, swiped his bracelet to pay for the fare – students got free public transport, and boarded the next hovertrain, his mind still racing with the inexplicable changes he was experiencing.
"A speedster type ability huh, as long as its B tier," Elliot muttered, clenching his fists.
As Elliot got off at his station and sprinted to his school in the middle district of M34, he marveled at how quickly he could now cover the distance. It was as though his newfound speed had become a part of him, allowing him to move effortlessly through the city.
He reached the school just an hour before it closed for the day. As he approached the entrance, he was surprised to find Miss Avensworth waiting for him at the gate. Her stern expression softened slightly when she saw him.
"Well, look who decided to show up today," she remarked, her voice laced with a hint of disappointment. "The last day of school, and your behavior still hasn't improved. School closed an hour ago – it's the last day, and we close early on last days."
Elliot tried to explain, "Miss Avensworth, I am terribly sorry. I was helping an old man craft some-"
She cut him off, not interested in hearing his excuses. Instead, she handed him a scroll with a red ribbon tied around it. "Happy graduation, Elliot."
He accepted the scroll, taken aback by her unexpected gesture. "Miss Avensworth, I-"
Before he could finish his sentence, she was already walking away. Elliot watched her retreating figure, and then he heard her mutter something to herself, almost as if she thought he couldn't hear.
"Emily, I tried to put your kid on the right track. The rest is up to him," she said softly.
Determined not to disappoint his late mother, Elliot replied, "I won't let Mum down."
Miss Avensworth's steps stopped for a moment, but she didn't turn around to acknowledge him. She simply continued walking away, leaving Elliot with a sense of responsibility and a scroll in his hands that held the promise of something important.
Elliot's heart raced as he heard the voice again, clearer and more distinct this time. It sounded like an arrogant and elegant man, full of disdain.
"F-tier ability, bordering on D-tier super speed," the voice continued, its tone dripping with condescension. "No elemental affinity, no combat training or martial arts ability, weak constitution, weak mental... a punching bag for humans. Tsk tsk, you have let her down already."
Fear and confusion swirled within Elliot as he looked around, searching for the source of the voice. "Who is this? Who are you?" he demanded, his voice trembling with a mixture of anxiety and anger.
Elliot's mind was a whirlwind of confusion and skepticism as he engaged in this bizarre conversation with the mysterious voice. He questioned its existence and motives, struggling to comprehend the situation.
"Why does it matter? You are weak. You need power, and I can give you power," the voice insisted, its tone unwavering.
"I am going insane, I am actually losing my mind," Elliot muttered to himself, his fear growing.
"Oh, please, can we skip the part where you freak out about having an entity inside of you? Just take the power; it is yours to begin with. I am just a guide," the voice replied, its words leaving Elliot even more bewildered.
Unable to bear the uncertainty any longer, Elliot resorted to physical means, slapping himself in an attempt to regain control. "Okay, time to go home," he muttered.
But the voice persisted, "I am still here."
"Are you real?" Elliot asked, desperation creeping into his voice.
"Ugh why did you have to be the host?" the voice muttered.
"A host?"
"Yes, a host," the voice confirmed.
Elliot's skepticism remained, and he pressed further, "What do you want? Nobody does anything for free."
The voice's response was laden with frustration, "Sadly, this power is your birthright. I am just a guide. I wish I could make you do what I wanted. I wish I had this power instead, but I don't."
"I don't believe you, but tell me, how do I gain power?" Elliot inquired, a mixture of curiosity and unease in his voice.
The voice's final words sent shivers down Elliot's spine, "That you will know in the right time and the right place. You will know, and you will not have a choice."
"What do you mean?" Elliot demanded from the mysterious voice, but it remained eerily silent, offering no further explanation.
As he grappled with the unsettling silence, another voice, filled with mockery and disdain, came from behind him. It was Kael and his gang, closing in on him like predators circling their prey.
"Well, well, well, looks like our punching bag has finally lost his mind," Kael taunted, a cruel grin on his face.
Elliot's eyes narrowed as he realized that something had changed within him. He was different today, faster, more powerful. He was no longer a punching bag, he was going to fight back. A newfound confidence surged through him, and he knew he could outrun them easily. Kael, with his lightning ability but no unlocked speed aspect, Guarm, a hulking figure with super strength of C tier, and Veer, a wiry speedster with an unknown elemental affinity, were the bullies who always tormented him. People estimated Veer's speed to be C tier or even B tier, much faster than Elliot, but today, Elliot felt ready to take on Veer alone. It was the combination of these three that had always made it difficult for him to escape their torment.