Chapter 1: The Taste of Power
The air in the cell was thick with the stench of rot and damp stone. Xander lay curled on the cold floor, his frail body shivering beneath tattered rags that barely passed for clothing. His wrists and ankles ached from the rusted chains that bound him, the metal biting into his skin with every twitch. How long had it been? Days? Weeks? He had lost count of the days since the mages had taken him.
Above him, the flickering torchlight cast long shadows on the walls, dancing mockingly, as if to remind him of the life he'd never return to. His stomach growled, a hollow sound, like the rattling of an empty cage. They hadn't fed him in days, yet the hunger gnawing at his insides was no longer just for food.
It had been three nights since the experiments ended.
The memories were foggy. The pain, the chanting of the mages, the way their cold hands gripped him as they forced strange concoctions down his throat. He remembered the taste of blood, metal and bitter herbs, and then... nothing.
Until the hunger began.
The heavy door to his cell creaked open, and a figure stepped inside. A guard. The man wore the sigil of the cabal—a black serpent twisted around a sword—and his eyes gleamed with disdain as they fell on Xander's pitiful form.
"Still alive?" the guard sneered, his voice harsh and unkind. "I don't know why the masters keep you. You're nothing but a failure."
Xander didn't respond. He didn't have the strength, nor the will. He was weak—he had always been weak. That's why they chose him. A nobody from a forgotten village, barely able to defend himself, easy prey for their twisted experiments. They didn't expect him to survive. Maybe he shouldn't have.
The guard approached, tossing a crust of bread onto the ground, just out of Xander's reach. "Eat, if you can." He laughed, turning to leave.
And that's when it happened.
The hunger surged. It wasn't for the bread. It wasn't for food. It was something darker, deeper. A primal urge, foreign yet all too familiar. Before Xander realized what he was doing, his body moved on its own. His chains rattled, and with surprising strength, he lunged forward, his teeth sinking into the guard's exposed ankle.
The man screamed, kicking at Xander in a frantic attempt to shake him off, but Xander held fast, his jaws clamped down like a starving wolf. Blood filled his mouth, and with it came a rush—an explosion of energy that flooded his senses. The guard's strength, his very essence, flowed into Xander as if he was drinking life itself.
The guard collapsed, his screams fading into gurgles, and Xander finally let go, falling back against the wall, panting heavily. He stared at his hands, trembling as they clenched into fists. The weakness, the frailty—it was gone. His muscles felt stronger, his vision sharper, his senses alive in a way they had never been.
And then, as if instinctively, he knew. He had taken something from the guard—more than just his blood. He had taken a piece of his power.
The guard's lifeless body lay crumpled on the floor, his eyes wide in shock. Xander felt a sickening satisfaction rise in his chest, mingled with fear. He had done something horrible, something unnatural, but he couldn't deny the surge of strength that now pulsed through his veins.
Tentatively, he rose to his feet. His chains, once too heavy to lift, now seemed light as feathers. He flexed his fingers, feeling the guard's strength still coursing through him. The hunger had subsided, but only for now. Deep down, he knew it would return.
He needed more.
As Xander stepped over the body, a flicker of guilt gnawed at him, but it was quickly smothered by the intoxicating thrill of power. He glanced at the guard's sword, picking it up with ease, the weight no longer a burden to his once-weak arms.
The experiments had worked. He was no longer the frail boy from the village, no longer the helpless prisoner they thought him to be. He had been reborn as something else—something far more dangerous.
With one final glance at the guard's body, Xander tightened his grip on the sword. He could hear footsteps approaching from down the corridor. More guards. They didn't know what he had become.
But soon, they would.
He had the power now. And it was hungry.