Jake stumbled out of the bar, the bitter taste of cheap whiskey lingering on his tongue. The neon lights of the city blurred around him, a stark contrast to the darkness swirling in his mind.
"What a shitty life," he muttered, fumbling for his phone. The screen's harsh glow illuminated his gaunt face as he checked his bank balance. "$120. Great." A hollow laugh escaped his lips. "Three days to find a job or I'm on the street."
As he trudged along the empty sidewalk, memories of the earlier argument with his friends echoed in his head. They didn't understand. How could they? They were awakeners, blessed with powers beyond imagination.
"Damn awakeners," Jake spat, kicking an empty can. It clattered down the street, the sound eerily loud in the quiet night.
Thirty years ago, the world changed forever. On January 1st, as the clock struck midnight, the earth itself seemed to revolt. Earthquakes tore the ground apart, releasing an otherworldly mist. And with it came monsters - goblins, orcs, creatures straight out of nightmares.
Jake had been just three years old then, too young to remember the chaos. But he knew the stories. How his father, a regular man with no special powers, had sacrificed himself to save his infant son. Sometimes, Jake wondered if his dad had made the right choice.
The mist had brought destruction, but also gifts. Some people, the "lucky ones," gained superpowers. These awakeners became humanity's defenders against the monster hordes. Within a decade, a new normal emerged - a world where the fantastic and mundane existed side by side.
But for Jake, now 33, that world held little wonder. His apartment, destroyed in a recent monster raid, was just another in a long line of misfortunes. The government's refusal to compensate non-awakeners like him was salt in an ever-deepening wound.
Lost in his bitter musings, Jake almost missed the low growl behind him. Almost.
He turned, his alcohol-dulled senses suddenly razor-sharp. There, emerging from the shadows, was a nightmare made flesh. Razor claws, glistening fangs, eyes burning with primal hunger.
"M-monster!" Jake's scream tore through the night. He tried to run, his legs leaden with fear. "Where are the damn authorities-"
His words cut off as something slammed into him with the force of a freight train. Jake flew through the air, his body crumpling against a nearby building. Pain exploded through every nerve.
Through swollen eyes, he watched the beast advance. Each labored breath felt like fire in his chest. Is this how I die? he thought, a strange calm settling over him.
The monster loomed over him, raising a massive claw. Jake closed his eyes, bracing for the final blow.
But it never came.
Seconds passed. Jake cracked open an eye, confused. The monster's claw hovered inches from his face, frozen in mid-strike. He blinked, wondering if this was some dying hallucination.
It wasn't just the monster. Everything had stopped. A stray newspaper hung suspended in the air. A distant car was frozen mid-turn, its headlights creating motionless beams in the night.
"What the..." Jake breathed, his voice the only sound in a world gone still.
Then, from everywhere and nowhere, a voice spoke:
"Jake Thompson. Your trial begins now."