The week since Abraham's encounter with the awakened woman had been... strange.
His days blended into a haze of routine and experimentation. When he wasn't working on debugging his latest app or fulfilling a freelance coding gig, he was testing the limits of his abilities in the safety of the abandoned industrial park just outside the city. It was a place of cracked concrete, rusted steel skeletons, and silence—the perfect venue for a Marked One to push his powers without drawing attention.
—
A dull thrum echoed through the air as Abraham focused on the object before him—a rusted car door he had hauled here earlier. His hand hovered inches from its corroded surface as his power flowed. The metal shimmered faintly, rippling like liquid before reshaping itself into something new. A crude blade emerged from the reshaped metal, jagged and imperfect.
Abraham frowned. Not quite what I pictured.
He clenched his fist, and the reshaped blade dissolved into glittering shards of psychic energy. I need to get better at this, he thought, his frustration mounting. His powers felt endless in potential, but they lacked precision.
The air grew heavy as he extended his other hand, summoning a psychic construct. A glowing blue barrier materialized, shifting and rippling as he willed it into the shape of a massive warhammer. Swinging it experimentally, he smashed it against the crumbling wall nearby. The satisfying CRACK of impact echoed through the empty space.
"Better," he muttered, his lips twitching into a small smirk.
Abraham's phone buzzed in his pocket, yanking him from his focus. He sighed, deactivating the construct with a thought. Fishing the phone out, he saw a message notification from Eric, an old highschool friend.
Eric: Yo, Abe. You're always buried in your work these days. Wanna hang out? Late-night drive? Maybe hit up a diner?
For a moment, Abraham hesitated. His connection with Eric and his other highschool friends felt increasingly tenuous. Their conversations about mundane topics—classes, parties, relationships—felt distant and trivial. But cutting ties entirely wasn't an option either. Not yet.
Abraham: Yeah, sure. Where and when?
—
Eric pulled up in his beat-up sedan, the faint smell of fast food and pine air freshener greeting Abraham as he climbed in.
"Man, you look like you've been pulling all-nighters again," Eric teased, his tone lighthearted.
Abraham shrugged. "You know how it is. Gotta grind while I can."
As they drove, the familiar streets of the city blurred past, but Abraham's unease grew. Something was... off. He couldn't put his finger on it, but his instincts prickled.
"Pull over," Abraham said suddenly, his voice sharper than intended.
Eric glanced at him, confused. "What? Why?"
"Just do it."
Reluctantly, Eric pulled the car to the curb. Abraham stepped out, his eyes scanning the empty street. He reached out with his aura vision, the world around him shifting into a kaleidoscope of glowing emotions. But there was nothing.
And then he felt it—a subtle ripple in the fabric of reality.
A figure emerged from the shadows of an alleyway. At first glance, she looked like an ordinary woman in her late twenties, but her aura burned with a fiery intensity—a bright red hue laced with streaks of gold. She was another natural awakened.
"Didn't think I'd find you this far out," she said, her voice cold and accusatory. Her fingers flexed, and faint wisps of shimmering energy coiled around her hands. "You've been sticking your nose where it doesn't belong, Marked One."
Eric, still in the car, honked the horn nervously. "Uh, Abe? Who's this? And why does she look like she's about to fight you?"
Abraham didn't answer. He stepped forward, his own energy beginning to hum around him. "I don't know who you think I am, but I don't want trouble."
"Too late for that," she snapped. "You're a threat to my territory. You don't belong here."
Without warning, she lunged, her hand thrusting forward as a blazing whip of energy lashed out. Abraham barely had time to summon a barrier, the impact sending shockwaves through the air.
The alleyway became a blur of clashing energy.
Abraham shaped his barriers into chains, attempting to bind her, but she dissolved them with her fiery aura. She retaliated with explosive blasts, forcing him to teleport short distances to avoid getting caught. Testing his limits, Abraham hurled a small psychic blast, the grenade-like explosion sending her stumbling back.
"You don't even know how to use your powers properly," she sneered, wiping blood from her lip. "Pathetic."
Abraham gritted his teeth. She's right, he thought. I'm improvising every step of the way. But he wasn't about to give up.
As the fight escalated, Abraham noticed something. Her attacks were wild and unfocused, fueled by emotion. She wasn't invincible—just stubborn.
With a burst of concentration, Abraham summoned a massive psychic construct—a spiked barrier that he wielded like a battering ram. Charging forward, he smashed it into her, knocking her to the ground.
"Stay down," he said, his voice firm but not unkind.
She glared up at him, defiance in her eyes. "You think you've won? You don't even know what you're fighting for."
"Then tell me," Abraham said, extending a hand to her.
For a long moment, she hesitated. Then, slowly, she took it.
The tension eased as the two lowered their guards. She introduced herself as Nyla, a natural awakened who had gained her powers years ago. Her territory was her livelihood—keeping supernatural threats at bay and protecting the people within it.
"You're not like the others," she admitted grudgingly. "But that doesn't mean I trust you."
"Fair enough," Abraham replied. "But maybe we can help each other. You know this world better than I do."
Nyla crossed her arms, studying him. "We'll see."
As Abraham walked back to Eric's car, his friend gawked at him.
"Dude... What the hell was that?"
"Long story," Abraham said, climbing in. "Let's just get out of here."
For the first time in a week, he felt a spark of hope. The world of the Marked wasn't entirely his to bear alone. Not yet, at least.
—
A week after his encounter with Nyla, Abraham wandered the outskirts of his city. His mind churned, a storm of thoughts and realizations taking shape. He replayed Nyla's hostile words and the relentless animosity she exuded.
"Claiming territories like they're animals... Why does everyone think they can stake ownership over places? Who decided that's how it works?" His voice carried in the still night air, frustration cutting through his tone.
His hands glowed faintly as he tested his powers, refining his techniques. A shimmering psychic chain with serrated edges flickered into existence, its jagged links humming with energy. Abraham studied it with a grim fascination. It felt... right.
The chain snapped back into nothingness as he paced. He extended his palm, summoning a small orb of psychic energy, compacting it tightly. With a flick of his wrist, the orb zipped into the air and detonated, a concussive wave scattering debris from a nearby pile of rubble.
The force of the blast carved jagged lines into the concrete, sending dust spiraling into the night. Abraham clenched his fist, focusing again. This time, he willed the explosion to happen in a tighter radius. The next orb shattered with a sharper crack, its burst leaving a smaller, more focused crater.
"Better. But it's not enough."
His thoughts drifted to Nyla—her raw strength, her territorial nature. Then to the wraith, how it nearly bested him because he hesitated. He shook his head, teeth grinding.
"Being gentle is a weakness."
His eyes darkened as he stepped forward, visualizing an opponent. His hands moved instinctively, conjuring weapons from his mind. Chains with cruelly hooked blades snaked from his grasp, twisting through the air like living things. With a snap, they lashed forward, embedding themselves into a crumbling wall. Abraham yanked, and the structure groaned as chunks of stone and steel fell to the ground in a heap.
A faint grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. He imagined those chains tearing through flesh, immobilizing limbs, and rendering opponents helpless.
He glanced at his reflection in a broken shop window nearby. For a moment, he didn't recognize himself. His gaze was colder, harder. The faint glow of his aura gave him an otherworldly presence, and the distant hum of his powers set his blood thrumming.
"If they want a monster... I'll show them one."
He spun, releasing another blast, the explosion sending tremors through the ground. Abraham's experiments continued late into the night, each attempt honing his arsenal, each decision nudging him closer to embracing the darker side of his abilities.
The warehouse stood on the edge of the industrial district, skeletal and lifeless under the pale glow of a crescent moon. The air reeked of rust and mildew, a stark contrast to the lively pulse of the city just a few miles away. Abraham stood at its entrance, his shadow stretching long and thin across the cracked pavement. He could feel it—the hum of something alive, something powerful, lurking inside.
He stepped forward, the crunch of broken glass beneath his boots echoing like a gunshot in the vast emptiness. His hand hovered near his side, ready to summon a chain or grenade at a moment's notice. The warehouse swallowed him whole, darkness enveloping him save for thin shafts of moonlight spilling through jagged holes in the roof.
A voice rang out, sharp and accusing, cutting through the silence like a blade.
"You should've stayed out of here, Marked One."
Abraham froze, his muscles coiled like a predator's, scanning the shadows for the source. A figure emerged from the far end of the room, his steps deliberate and unhurried. The man was broad-shouldered, his silhouette hulking against the backdrop of derelict machinery. His eyes gleamed faintly, catching the light like a predator's.
"You think you can just wander wherever you want? This place belongs to me!" the man spat, his voice resonating with a growl that bordered on animalistic.
Abraham raised a brow, unimpressed. "What is it with you people and your territories?" His tone was sharp, laced with sarcasm. "I don't see your name on it."
The man's lip curled into a snarl, and suddenly the ground beneath Abraham's feet rumbled. With a deafening crack, steel girders overhead twisted and bent unnaturally, their groaning cries filling the air. Abraham leapt back just as a massive chunk of the ceiling crashed down where he'd been standing.
"I don't need a name. You're trespassing. That's enough."
Abraham rolled his shoulders, summoning a psychic barrier to shield himself as shards of glass and debris rained down. He smirked, the faintest hint of excitement flickering in his chest. "You're one of them, aren't you? Natural awakened."
The man didn't answer. Instead, he extended a hand, and the air itself seemed to ripple. Massive slabs of rusted machinery lifted from the ground, floating as if weightless. With a flick of his wrist, the man sent them hurtling toward Abraham like missiles.
Abraham's barriers snapped into existence, gleaming like molten gold as they deflected the incoming projectiles. The impact reverberated through his arms, the force threatening to buckle his stance. The awakened was strong—brutally so. But Abraham wasn't about to back down.
"Let's see how you handle this," Abraham muttered, extending his hand. A jagged chain burst from his palm, its razor-sharp links slicing through the air with a high-pitched whine. It lashed toward the man, aiming for his legs, but the awakened sidestepped with inhuman speed, the chain embedding itself into a nearby wall instead.
The man laughed, low and guttural. "Is that all you've got?" He raised his arms, and the very ground beneath Abraham erupted, jagged spikes of concrete shooting upward like teeth. Abraham vaulted back, landing lightly and sending a concussive grenade toward the awakened. The orb detonated midair, the blast tearing through the haze of dust and debris. The man raised a shimmering barrier of his own, the explosion dissipating harmlessly against it.
"Not bad," Abraham said, a faint grin tugging at his lips. "But I'm just getting started."
He conjured another chain, this one thicker and adorned with serrated edges. With a powerful swing, he sent it whipping toward the man's torso. The awakened dodged again, but Abraham anticipated the movement. With a flick of his wrist, the chain split into multiple tendrils, each one snaking through the air with deadly precision.
The man cursed, his barrier snapping up just in time to block the onslaught. But the tendrils were relentless, wrapping around the barrier and tightening like a noose. Abraham pulled hard, the strain etched into his face as he poured more energy into the construct. The man's barrier cracked under the pressure, spiderweb fractures spreading across its surface.
With a roar, the awakened unleashed a shockwave that sent Abraham stumbling. The chains dissolved, and the man lunged forward, closing the distance in an instant. His fist connected with Abraham's barrier, the impact ringing out like a thunderclap. The force sent Abraham skidding back, his heels digging into the ground to steady himself.
Blood trickled from his lip where he'd bitten down too hard. His breath came in sharp bursts, but his grin remained.
"You hit like a truck," Abraham admitted, wiping his mouth. "But I've fought worse."
The man charged again, his movements a blur, but this time Abraham was ready. He threw up a barrier, not to block but to trap. The construct shifted, folding around the man like a cage. For a split second, the awakened struggled, confusion flashing across his face.
Then Abraham tightened his grip, the barrier constricting with crushing force. The man screamed, his voice raw with pain, as the pressure mounted. Bones cracked, the sound sharp and sickening, and Abraham didn't flinch.
He leaned in, his voice cold and steady. "This is your warning. If you think this city belongs to you, think again."
With a final push, the barrier collapsed inward, slamming the man into unconsciousness. Abraham stepped back, his breathing heavy, and surveyed the wreckage. The awakened lay crumpled on the ground, his chest rising and falling faintly.
Abraham turned, his gaze hard as steel. He muttered under his breath, the faintest hint of a catchphrase taking shape. "If you can't stand the monster, stay out of its path."
And with that, he disappeared into the shadows, leaving the battered warehouse and its self-proclaimed ruler behind.