The cave's darkness enveloped Omen as he gradually stirred from his slumber. His passive senses, still alert despite his profound sleep, had detected a sudden shift in the air. He sat aside intuitively, barely able to avoid a devastating eruption of flames that had engulfed the area where he had been lying minutes before.
Omen's mind, still sluggish from slumber, struggled to understand what was happening. Another fireball flew through the air, aimed right for him, before he had time to understand the danger. This time, he reacted slowly. The fireball struck him with power, flinging him backwards and slamming him into the cave's stone wall.
Omen, dazed and disoriented, reclined against the cold, rough stone of the cave wall. His body ached from the intense heat of the flame, which had burnt and bruised him. The sound of crackling flames and the surge of scorching energy filled the air, creating an unsettling, dangerous mood.
Omen surveyed his surroundings as his senses returned to normal. The tunnel was a dramatic contrast to the open sky he would be flying through. It was barely lit by the flickering light of the flames hurled at him. The walls were rugged and uneven, with jagged protrusions and soot-darkened surfaces.
His heart raced in his chest as he immediately analyzed the situation. The river bird was nowhere to be found. It seemed either it had been killed or its time limit had expired.
'Can't a guy just have a few moments of peace'
A short boy, standing defiantly with a proud smirk, had been the one launching the deadly projectiles. The boy's arrogance was palpable as he boasted, "I hoped to kill you with one shot, darkling." His palms glowed with the power of another fireball, ready to strike.
Without hesitation, Omen's cold, calculating eyes locked onto the boy. He had no intention of wasting precious time on needless confrontation. With a swift, almost casual motion, Omen activated his [Laser Vision]. The beam shot forth with deadly precision, a searing line of light that cut through the air.
The beam struck the boy's skull with pinpoint accuracy. The explosion was instantaneous and brutal—a burst of light and force that obliterated the boy's head, scattering blood and fragments in all directions. The boy's proud expression vanished in a split second, replaced by a ridiculous spray of crimson and bone.
Omen remained sat, his stance serene and unaffected by the harm he had just done. The boy's corpse hit the ground with a thump.
As the remnants of the boy's corpse dissipated into the cave air, Omen could feel the sudden raw, volatile energy merging with his own. The power of the boy's abilities—[pyrokinesis]—flowed into him, melding with his essence. Omen observed the newfound power with a detached, analytical gaze. There was no sense of elation, but still he was surprised by his luck. He had even yet to check his gains from slaying those sea monsters.
Omen's clothes were scorched and torn, barely clinging to his frame. His skin, though durable and protected from the fireball's heat, did nothing to preserve his attire. With a forlorn face, he removed the burnt pieces of his garments, leaving him only in a little pair of black undershorts.
The modest gear did little to protect him from the harsh elements of his surroundings; as he went outside the cave, the contrast between the murky, stifling interior and the sharp daylight was startling. He seemed to be standing at the entrance of a cave at the peak of a mountain.
Omen took a deep breath, savouring the crisp, fresh air. The landscape before him was both beautiful and dangerous—a vast, tropical setting with rich flora and brilliant colours. He looked about with a keen eye. The terrain was strange yet not unpleasant. The deep rainforest was alive with the sounds of distant species, creating a symphony of nature's rhythm. The huge sea stretched out to the horizon, sprinkled with beautiful waves that belied the dangers lurking beneath.
Omen knew that he couldn't afford to linger. His primary goal was still to hunt down sea monsters. Omen's frustration simmered as he trudged through the forest, the silence and absence of any potential targets amplifying his irritation. The nocturnal creatures that typically roamed the woods had long retreated at the start of dawn.
Omen returned to the shore as dawn broke through the trees. The transition from woodland to shore was rapid, with the environment shifting from dense greenery to an open, sandy expanse. The sun rose steadily, casting its pale light over the scene. Omen's gaze was drawn to the giant crab corpse lying on the shore—its massive, charred form a testament to the battle that had occurred.
"Hmm…It's here?". He muttered under his breath and turned to the figure hammering away at the carcass. To his surprise, he noticed a tall, slim boy working diligently on the crab's underbelly. The boy's hand was wreathed in yellow electricity, crackling with energy as he sliced effortlessly through the crab's hardened shell. Omen observed with keen interest as the boy's hand carved through the tough exoskeleton with surprising ease, extracting chunks of meat from the giant crustacean.
The boy was oddly familiar, and soon he recalled where he'd seen him. That night when he stepped out of the bunker to get some fresh air, he stumbled upon Anna and someone else mating in the mess hall…this was the boy. 'Hmm, no need to feel bad about killing him then, every ally of Anna is an enemy of mine'
'With this ability, my offence will surge,' Omen thought, his eyes narrowing in calculation. The potential to harness such an ability was tempting and promising. Without hesitation, Omen activated his [Imperceptive] skill, rendering himself virtually undetectable. As he moved closer, every step was measured and silent. The boy, absorbed in his task, remained oblivious to Omen's approach.
In a swift, calculated move, Omen materialized out of nothingness. With a powerful grip, he seized the back of the boy's head. The attack came on so quickly. The boy's eyes widened in surprise as he attempted to turn around, his hands instinctively reaching up to ward off the unknown danger.
But Omen's strength was unyielding. He slammed the boy's head into the crab's hard shell with brutal force. The impact was deafening, a sharp crack echoing through the early morning air. The boy's head contacted the shell, and the force of the blow caused the crab's exoskeleton to give way. The boy's face caved in under the pressure, the hard shell splintering and cracking as he broke through it.
The boy's scream was muffled by the sudden collapse of his skull against the crab's shell. Blood and fragments of shell sprayed outward. Omen's grip remained firm, ensuring the boy's fate was sealed with a final, crushing force.
The boy's body went limp, the remnants of his electrical power flickering erratically before it too ceased to exist. Omen stood over the fallen figure, his breathing steady and controlled.
The corpse's energy now dissipated, seemed to be drawn towards Omen with a subtle, almost magnetic pull. The blue electricity from the boy's power swirled and coalesced, slipping into Omen's body with an almost imperceptible current.
With a controlled exhale Omen extended his hand, focusing on the newly acquired skill. A spark of blue electricity formed at his fingertips, gradually intensifying until it coalesced into a sharp, wide blade extending from his hand. The electricity crackled with a dangerous edge, its piercing point glinting in the early morning light. The new power felt potent and exhilarating.
'Good,' Omen muttered under his breath, satisfied with the new addition to his arsenal. He remained invisible as he took stock of his surroundings. The beach was still deserted, the only witnesses to the brutal act being the silent sea and the scattered debris.
Omen sat cross-legged on the coarse sand, staring into the stillness of the water. The idea of diving back into the dark, unyielding water had filled him with a strange mix of dread and excitement, but now, with Iron Lungs rendering it unnecessary, he felt a void of purposelessness gnawing at the edges of his mind.
"Am I ready to kill Jacobi?" he muttered to himself, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. Omen sighed; his breath heavy with uncertainty, he needed much more strength. The wind swirled around him, carrying with it the odour of salt and blood. He relaxed his gaze and allowed the sounds of the water to fill his ears, a wild song of crashing waves and distant howling of strange creatures. Omen opened his eyes, staring at the water again. He stood up, his resolve hardening like stone. The time for doubt was over. With his thoughts set, Omen dived into the depths of the sea once more.
…..
Omen had lost all sense of time and reason in the depths of the sea, wrapped up in a blood-soaked frenzy that seemed to last forever. For three days and three consecutive nights, he travelled like an apparition across the blackness, pursuing anything that dared to cross his path. The water around him was a dark, impenetrable silence punctuated by the rare spark of a doomed creature's final seconds. His rampage was unstoppable, a nearly automatic cycle of hunting and massacre.
Sometimes, he found himself in the presence of creatures so formidable that even he hesitated, sensing their strength from afar. In those moments, he simply did what any sane person would—he fled. Yet, time and again. He would circle back, his heart hammering with a thrill that bordered on madness, and challenge those powerful beasts. Some fell quickly, others put up a fight that left him bloodied and exhausted, but he emerged victorious each time, his body accumulating scars and his soul accumulating strength.
In one particularly brutal encounter, Omen succeeded in stealing the ability to breathe underwater. Shortly after, in a battle with a massive, serpentine creature whose body was colder than ice, he gained the passive ability to withstand the biting chill of the deep. The cold that once gnawed at his bones now barely registered, reduced to a mere nuisance.
…But it wasn't enough. It was never enough.
The more he killed, the more he realized how hungry his desire for power had become. He moved with unwavering purpose, cutting through the sea's inhabitants like a force of nature. His motions were blurred, yet his strikes were accurate and powerful. The waters were soon stained with blood, the taste of salt and iron heavy on his tongue.
And then, at last, it was over. Omen broke the surface of the water, his body rising from the depths as if pulled by some unseen force. In one law-defying moment. He stood on the sea's surface, his feet barely making ripples, defying the natural order with an ease that spoke to his newfound powers, he looked around him with an amusing smile.
"Who would have believed I would ever become this strong?" he asked with an indifferent chuckle.
The circumstances seemed nothing short of catastrophic. Hundreds of marine creatures of every shape and size drifted lifelessly on the ocean, their bodies a gloomy reminder of his frenzy. The carcasses laid as fa as the mortal eyes could see.
Right now Omen was deep into the sea, far from land, even with his insane vision he couldn't see the island he had been on a few days ago. Surrounding him and engulfing the sea's surface was a sheer magnitude of carcasses, so enormous that if he took the skies right now he would never be able to see the sea itself.
But even with all the kills, his new abilities were just a handful. Yet, among the carnage, there were a few that had granted him something valuable. Omen watched the floating carcasses with a distant, almost detached expression. There was no remorse in his eyes, no pity for the lives he had taken. Instead, there was a cold satisfaction, a sense of readiness that filled the void where doubt once lingered.
"Good," he muttered to himself, his voice barely more than a whisper, yet carrying a weight that resonated with the water around him. "Now I'm ready."