The relentless desert sun beat down upon the barren landscape, casting long shadows over the dunes. Ethan, drenched in sweat, trudged through the endless sea of sand. His eyes, now hardened by years of survival, scanned the horizon for any sign of shelter or respite, but all he saw was an unforgiving wasteland.
Fifty years. It had been fifty long years since Earth had awakened to a new reality. Abilities, once the stuff of legends, were now an integral part of everyday life. People adapted—some faster than others—to the strange powers that had begun to surface. Governments and secret organizations scrambled to contain and control these new forces, but not everyone was willing to play by their rules.
Ethan was one of those outliers. A man marked by Wrath. His sin, like the others, had remained dormant for centuries. But when the time came, Wrath awoke within him, and the world would never be the same.
He hadn't asked for this power. It had been thrust upon him, like a curse bound to his very soul. And while most people reveled in their newfound abilities, Ethan was different. His gift wasn't one that brought peace or prosperity. It was destruction—pure, unrelenting destruction.
He stopped, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. The desert was quiet, unnervingly so. Yet, beneath that calm exterior, he could feel it. Wrath. It simmered inside him, waiting to explode. His body ached, his muscles tense with the strain of keeping it under control. Ever since his awakening, every moment was a struggle—one misstep, one lapse in concentration, and Wrath would consume him entirely.
A soft rumble in the distance snapped Ethan out of his thoughts. His head turned sharply toward the source of the sound. It was faint, but unmistakable—the movement of something large and dangerous beneath the surface. The ground beneath him began to tremble, small ripples disturbing the once peaceful sands.
"Not again..." Ethan muttered under his breath, clenching his fists.
He had encountered Awakened Beasts before. Earth's awakening had not only unlocked powers within its people but also transformed its wildlife. Beasts of every kind grew stronger, fiercer, and deadlier. They roamed the wilds, wreaking havoc on anyone unfortunate enough to cross their paths. This desert, in particular, was home to some of the most fearsome creatures, including the one approaching now.
The rumbling grew louder, and suddenly, the ground erupted before him. A massive, snake-like creature emerged from the sand, its scales gleaming under the scorching sun. Its eyes glowed a menacing red, and its mouth opened wide, revealing rows of jagged teeth.
A Rank 2 Desert Charger. Known for its speed and ferocity, it was a predator that had claimed the lives of countless travelers. Ethan had fought its kind before, but this one was larger, more aggressive. His hand instinctively went to the weapon strapped to his side—a simple but sturdy blade he had forged from the core of a lesser beast.
The creature hissed, coiling its long body as it prepared to strike. Ethan could feel the surge of Wrath inside him, urging him to attack, to destroy. His heart raced, but he held back. He couldn't afford to lose control now. Not yet.
The Desert Charger lunged, moving with blinding speed for a creature of its size. Ethan dodged, narrowly avoiding its deadly jaws. Sand flew everywhere as the beast missed its mark, its head crashing into the ground. Without hesitation, Ethan countered, swinging his blade at the creature's exposed flank. The sharp edge of his weapon bit into its flesh, but the beast barely flinched.
"Damn it!" Ethan cursed, realizing that this was no ordinary Charger. Its scales were tougher, its skin more resistant. This was a battle that would test the limits of his strength and resolve.
The creature lashed out again, forcing Ethan to roll to the side, his body reacting purely on instinct. His breath came in ragged gasps as he stood, feeling the heat of Wrath pulsing through him. It was tempting, so tempting to just let go, to unleash everything and obliterate the beast in one fell swoop. But he knew the cost. Every time he gave in to Wrath, it took a little more of him—his sanity, his control.
The serpent coiled once more, its blood-red eyes locked onto Ethan with an almost sentient fury. This wasn't just a battle for survival. It was a challenge, a test of dominance. And Wrath would not allow him to back down.
"Alright, you bastard," Ethan growled, his voice thick with anger. "You want to see what I'm capable of?"
He could feel the power surging within him, like a raging fire ready to consume everything in its path. His body tensed, and his vision narrowed, focused solely on the creature before him. Wrath had chosen him for a reason, and now it was time to show why.
As the Desert Charger lunged again, Ethan didn't dodge. Instead, he charged head-on, meeting the beast with all the fury and strength Wrath could offer. His blade, now glowing faintly with the sin's power, sliced through the air, striking the creature with a force that sent shockwaves across the sand.
The beast roared in pain as the blade cut deeper this time, breaking through its tough hide. Blood sprayed across the sand, but Ethan didn't stop. He pressed forward, driving the blade into the creature's side with a ferocity that only Wrath could provide.
The Desert Charger thrashed wildly, its tail whipping through the air, trying to dislodge its attacker. But Ethan held firm, his muscles straining as he poured everything he had into the fight. He could feel Wrath pushing him further, urging him to go beyond his limits.
And then, with one final, powerful strike, Ethan severed the creature's head from its body. The beast fell to the ground with a heavy thud, its lifeless form lying in the sand as blood pooled around it.
Ethan stood over the fallen creature, his chest heaving with exhaustion. The adrenaline slowly began to fade, and with it, the intensity of Wrath's power. His body ached, every muscle screaming in protest after the battle. But the victory was his.
For now.
He wiped the sweat from his brow, looking down at the beast. A Rank 2 Desert Charger. Even with his abilities, it had been a challenge. He couldn't imagine what a Rank 3 or higher would be like. And he knew there were far worse creatures lurking out there.
Suddenly, a shadow passed over him, and Ethan's eyes snapped upward. A figure stood on a nearby dune, watching him with an expression of amusement. It was a woman, her posture relaxed, as if the blistering heat and the danger of the desert didn't bother her in the slightest.
Her long, dark hair flowed down her back, and her eyes, half-lidded with disinterest, seemed to hold a secret that Ethan couldn't quite grasp. She was dressed in simple clothes, but something about her presence was off—unnatural.
"You took your time," she said lazily, her voice smooth but indifferent. "I was starting to wonder if you'd need help."
Ethan glared at her. "Who the hell are you?"
The woman smirked. "Talia. But most people just call me Sloth."