Chapter 24: The Hunt Begins
The streets of the lower district were unusually quiet, the crumbling ruins soaked in the kind of silence that made even seasoned hunters uneasy. Morgan and Jane moved swiftly through the labyrinth of alleys and abandoned warehouses, following the faint traces of residual energy Pod had left behind. But it was already fading, as if he had vanished without a trace.
"He was here," Jane whispered, her voice low as she crouched to examine a scorch mark on the wall. "Recently, too. But no sign of him now."
Morgan exhaled through his nose, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. He expected Pod to lose control, to unleash himself somewhere isolated where Morgan could catch him in the act—nip it in the bud before the kid got swallowed by his power. But Pod had slipped through his fingers. Again.
"He's getting good at hiding," Jane remarked with a dry smirk.
Morgan ignored the comment, though it gnawed at him. Pod was dangerous not just because of his powers but because of his unpredictability. If the kid had slipped away intentionally, it meant he was becoming more aware of what he could do—and what he could become.
They continued through the district in silence, their senses sharpened for any trace of movement or disturbance. Every now and then, Morgan thought he caught a flicker of energy out of the corner of his eye, but it was always gone before he could confirm it.
Jane tapped her earpiece. "Nothing on any channels. No reports from the patrols, no sightings."
Morgan pressed his lips into a thin line. "He's not running."
"Then where is he?"
Morgan had no answer for that, and that was what bothered him most. Pod wasn't fleeing; he was waiting. Somewhere. The thought left a sour taste in Morgan's mouth.
As they turned down another alley, the tension between them thickened. The growing realization that Pod was choosing to stay hidden—choosing when to show himself—set Morgan's nerves on edge. He knew this wasn't a sign of fear. It was something else.
---
Later that night, Morgan sat alone in the dim light of his quarters. The cluttered space was filled with maps, schematics, and files—remnants of past missions that never seemed to stay buried. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the small vial he had retrieved from his coat pocket.
The drug inside shimmered faintly under the light, a swirl of silver and black liquid that seemed to pulse with its own rhythm. He hated the thing—hated what it represented—but he couldn't throw it away. Not yet.
He had taken this vial years ago, during the last war, when everything had fallen apart. It was a failsafe, a desperate measure for when the beast inside grew too powerful to contain. He hadn't needed it back then, but the weight of the vial in his hand now felt heavier than ever.
Morgan ran a hand through his hair, the memories of Ted's betrayal and the prodigy with the shadow powers flashing behind his eyes again. It always came back to that night—the night when everything changed. When he learned that control was an illusion and that the real battle was always internal.
With a sigh, he slipped the vial into a hidden compartment under the floorboards. Not tonight. Not yet.
He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes, but rest wouldn't come. His thoughts lingered on Pod, on the boy's potential to become something monstrous or miraculous. A new kind of Choujin—one that could either expose the churches or bring about their darkest dreams.
---
Morgan didn't notice Jane slip into the room until she spoke. "Still nothing on him," she said, lighting another cigarette.
Morgan opened his eyes and glanced at her. "He'll show up eventually."
"Eventually might be too late," Jane said, blowing out a plume of smoke. "If he's out there, alone, figuring things out on his own... you know what happens next."
Morgan did know. He had seen it too many times before. Choujins who tried to handle their powers alone either became lost in their madness or turned into something worse.
"We'll find him," Morgan said quietly. "He won't be alone for long."
Jane gave him a sideways glance, as if weighing his words. "You really think you can help him?"
Morgan didn't answer immediately. "If I can't, no one can."
---
Meanwhile...
In a dark corner of the city, far from Morgan's reach, Pod sat alone in the back of an abandoned subway station. His body still hummed with the remnants of the energy that had almost consumed him earlier. The transformation had been terrifying—but also thrilling. For the first time, he felt alive, as if he were standing at the edge of something far greater than himself.
He clenched and unclenched his fists, watching the faint flicker of power dance across his skin. The temptation to dive deeper into it, to see just how far he could push his abilities, was almost overwhelming. But another part of him—the part that still remembered who he was—held him back.
Pod leaned his head against the cold wall, closing his eyes. He knew Morgan would come for him eventually. But until then, he had to figure this out on his own. He had to understand what he had become before it consumed him entirely.
And when the time came to face Morgan again, Pod would be ready.