The days blurred together after that long night. Wan woke the next morning feeling as though he had been transported into another world. His limbs still ached from the hours he had spent kneeling in front of the shop, but the dull throb was overshadowed by the hunger that gnawed at his insides. The bread the young girl had given him felt like a distant memory now, its fleeting warmth evaporating the moment he woke to the cold emptiness of his stomach.
He pushed himself up from the mat he had been placed on. The stone floor of the small hut felt rough beneath his fingertips as he slowly sat up, his head pounding. His throat was dry, but there was a sense of relief in his chest, a whisper of hope that he didn't dare acknowledge.
The villagers had been indifferent, even after the girl had fed him. No one came to check on him, no one offered anything more. He was still an outsider, still invisible. The strange kindness from the girl lingered like a flickering candle in the vast darkness of his existence here.
Wan staggered to his feet, his legs shaky, and wandered toward the door. The sound of the wind outside was the only thing that seemed to fill the air. He opened it slowly, half-expecting to be met with the same cold, distant stares.
To his surprise, the small village seemed quieter than usual. The children were inside, and the adults were working in their fields, keeping their distance. The village seemed alive, but distant, like a place he could never truly belong. He stepped out cautiously, moving toward the training grounds, the place that had both broken him and pushed him to the edge.
For the first time in days, he stood there in silence, his breath shallow, trying to reconnect with the idea of Shade. But this time, something was different. There was no crowd to watch him. No one was waiting to see him fail. It was just him and the stillness of the world around him.
He closed his eyes, focusing on the sensations he had felt the day before. The pulse of energy, the tingling in his fingertips. He had reached for the shadows before, but this time, it felt like they were farther away than ever.
Then, it came.
A strange warmth, subtle but unmistakable, spread from his palm, a faint pulse like a heartbeat. It wasn't the violent rush of energy he had felt before, but something deeper, something almost familiar. His heart skipped a beat.
The sensation was both alien and like an old memory, a feeling he should have known long ago. He could feel it, pressing against his hand, a faint resistance that called to him. His eyes shot open in shock.
His hand was shaking. The warmth intensified, like a pulse of heat against his skin. And then—there it was—a dark spot, no larger than a pinprick, beginning to form in the center of his palm. A swirling, pulling sensation filled his chest, and the dot began to expand, slowly, as though it were alive, pulling everything around it into a vortex.
A black hole.
The spot on his hand began to whirl with an almost tangible force, an undeniable gravity. Wan's heart raced, a strange thrill building in his chest. This was Shade. He could feel it, not just in his palm but in his very core. The power that he had been so desperately seeking was finally responding to him.
But it wasn't enough. He had to control it. He had to harness it. But the more he tried to focus, the more the power seemed to slip away, the black hole shrinking and expanding at random.
He focused all his energy, drawing from the strange, pulsating feeling inside him, trying to shape it. It resisted at first, stubborn and wild. But gradually, with effort, he felt it obeying. The dot grew smaller and more stable in his palm, like a miniature black hole suspended in his hand. It wasn't perfect, far from it. But it was Shade, and it was his.
Panting, Wan closed his fingers around the dot. The sensation faded, leaving him with nothing but a quiet ache in his chest and an overwhelming sense of accomplishment.
For the first time since he had arrived, Wan didn't feel like a failure. He had done it. He had controlled it, even if only for a moment.
The sound of footsteps broke his concentration. Wan quickly closed his hand, concealing the dark spot in his palm as he turned to find Kai standing behind him.
"I see you've finally made progress," Kai said, his voice neither surprised nor impressed, but still carrying a hint of approval.
Wan stood still, his heart still racing, his hand clenched tightly at his side. "It's not much," he muttered. "But it's a start."
Kai nodded. "Good. But remember, this power doesn't belong to you just because you can control it for a moment. It's a part of you now, but it will demand everything in return."
Wan's hand trembled slightly as the reality of Kai's words settled in. He wasn't sure what he had just unleashed, but one thing was certain: Shade was no longer an abstract concept to him. It was real. And it had taken its first form in his palm.
The quiet triumph of the moment was shattered when Kai spoke again, more urgently this time. "We need to move. There's no time to waste."
Wan felt a pang of confusion, but Kai's tone left no room for argument. They were still outside, and the weight of the village around them seemed to press in from all sides. Wan had no idea what was coming, but he knew one thing: Shade had finally made its mark on him, and there was no turning back now.