The truck's interior was unlike anything Eris had ever seen. The world outside had always been a bleak combination of grit and survival, but this vehicle felt like something torn from myth. The seats were upholstered in dark, shimmering material that glowed faintly with Essence runes etched into the seams. A crystalline console flickered with shifting lights, showing maps, symbols, and readouts that Eris couldn't begin to decipher. The air hummed with energy, like a living heartbeat, and the faint scent of burnt ozone lingered around him.
Eris traced his fingers over the glowing panels on the dashboard, marveling at their warmth and faint vibrations. He was hesitant, almost reverent, as if a careless touch might shatter the intricate designs.
"Stop gawking," Vince said, his voice cutting through the hum of the truck.
Eris flinched, pulling his hand back. He hadn't realized Vince had been watching him so closely. The man's sharp gaze was fixed on him, his expression as cold and unreadable as ever.
"What the hell were you thinking back there?" Vince asked, his tone laced with irritation. "Chasing me down like that in the middle of the Wastelands? You could've gotten yourself killed."
Eris hesitated, fumbling for words under Vince's scrutiny. "I... I didn't have a choice."
"There's always a choice," Vince shot back. "You could've stayed at the camp, stayed out of my way."
"I don't want to stay out of the way!" Eris blurted, his voice cracking. "I can't—" He paused, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I can't keep running or hiding. Not after everything that's happened."
Vince raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his seat. "And what exactly do you think chasing after me will accomplish?"
Eris clenched his fists, trying to steady his trembling voice. "You're strong. You know how to survive out here. You can teach me—teach me how to control this." He tapped his chest, where the faint pulse of energy still thrummed. "I can feel it... this Essence or whatever it is. But I don't know how to use it. I need someone to show me."
Vince snorted, his gaze turning back to the road. "You think I've got time to be a babysitter? I'm not running some charity for lost kids."
"I'm not a kid," Eris said, his voice firmer this time.
"Could've fooled me," Vince muttered, the corners of his mouth twitching in a faint smirk.
Eris took a deep breath, his frustration mounting. "I'm serious. I'm not asking for charity. I'll work for it—whatever it takes. Just... just don't leave me like this. I can't figure it out on my own."
The truck fell into a tense silence, the hum of the Essence core the only sound between them. Vince's jaw tightened, and he seemed to be weighing something in his mind.
Finally, he sighed, his fingers tapping the wheel. "Let me get this straight. You want me to train you? Teach you how to survive, how to fight, how to wield your Essence?"
"Yes," Eris said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"And what do I get out of it?" Vince asked, his tone sharp. "Why the hell should I waste my time on you?"
Eris hesitated, his mind racing. What could he possibly offer someone like Vince? He was weak, inexperienced, barely more than dead weight. But then, a thought struck him.
"I'll... I'll fight for you," Eris said.
Vince raised an eyebrow. "You'll what?"
"When I'm stronger," Eris continued, his voice growing steadier. "When I know how to use this power. I'll be your sword. Your weapon. Whatever you need me to be."
Vince stared at him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he barked out a short, humorless laugh.
"That's rich," he said. "You, my sword? Hate to break it to you, kid, but you've got a long way to go before you're even worth carrying a dull blade."
"I know that," Eris said, his jaw tightening. "But I'm not going to stay this way forever. I'll get stronger. I'll prove it to you."
Vince's smirk faded, replaced by a thoughtful frown. He glanced at Eris, his sharp eyes searching for something—determination, desperation, maybe both.
"Fine," Vince said finally. "You want to play the hero? I'll give you a shot. But don't think for a second that I'm going easy on you. If you slow me down, if you screw up, I'm leaving you behind. And if you can't hold your own when the time comes, you're on your own. Got it?"
Eris nodded, his heart pounding. "Got it."
Vince shook his head, muttering under his breath. "What the hell am I getting myself into?"
The truck rumbled on, its Essence core pulsing steadily as it carried them deeper into the Wastelands. Eris leaned back in his seat, the faintest flicker of hope igniting in his chest. For the first time in what felt like forever, he had a purpose. A chance.
And he wasn't going to waste it.
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Eris couldn't help himself. The truck was too fascinating, too alien, to sit in silence. Every detail beckoned questions, and his newfound clarity of mind only fueled his curiosity.
"Where'd you get this thing?" Eris blurted, his gaze darting to the intricate runes lining the dashboard.
Vince sighed, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "Not your business."
"But it's amazing! I've never seen anything like it. How does it even—"
"Quiet." Vince's tone was sharp, cutting through Eris's excitement like a blade.
Eris clamped his mouth shut, but the silence didn't last long. Moments later, his curiosity bubbled over again. "Are you from one of the kingdoms? Voltaris? Tenebris? You don't seem like—"
"Do you ever stop talking?" Vince snapped, his eyes fixed on the horizon.
Eris leaned back, stung but undeterred. "I'm just trying to understand. The Wastelands are all I've ever known, and you—"
"Enough," Vince growled. He glanced at Eris, his expression a mix of annoyance and something softer—perhaps pity. "You want answers? Fine. But stop yapping about things you don't even grasp."
Eris nodded eagerly, sitting up straighter.
Vince sighed again, his patience wearing thin. "Listen up, because I'm not explaining this twice. You've awakened your Crest, yeah? That's the thing burning a hole in your chest right now, making you feel all tingly and powerful?"
Eris nodded, placing a hand over his chest as if he could feel the energy more directly.
"That's your Essence," Vince continued. "It's the fuel that powers your abilities, your strength, your connection to the world. Think of it like a river flowing through you. Your Crest is the dam that controls that flow. Without it, the energy would run wild, probably kill you or worse."
Eris swallowed hard, his fascination tinged with unease.
"Now, channeling Essence is where it gets tricky," Vince said. "Most Awakened spend years training to harmonize with their Crest. It's not just about feeling the energy—it's about controlling it. Shaping it."
"How?" Eris asked, his voice hushed.
Vince smirked faintly, as if recalling his own struggles. "You focus. You visualize. Every Crest resonates with something unique—an element, an emotion, a concept. Yours..." He trailed off, glancing at Eris. "Yours is tied to the moon, right? Or at least it should be."
Eris nodded hesitantly. "I think so. But it feels... different. Like it's not the same as others."
Vince's expression darkened. "Yeah, I noticed that. Red lunar energy isn't exactly common. That makes you a variant."
"A variant?"
"Same affinity, different nature," Vince explained. "Usually tied to your personality or life experience. The Wastelands probably warped it. Red resonates with violence, bloodshed. Not exactly a good sign."
Eris frowned, his fingers tightening into fists.
"Don't take it personally," Vince said, his tone softening slightly. "Variants aren't rare, but they're not exactly celebrated, either. People fear what they don't understand."
Eris glanced out the window, the barren Wastelands rolling by. "So how do I channel it? How do I use it?"
"That," Vince said, his voice steady, "is the hard part. Close your eyes."
"What?"
"Do it," Vince ordered.
Eris hesitated but obeyed. The hum of the truck's Essence core grew louder in his ears, and he felt the faint pulse of energy in his chest.
"Feel the Essence inside you," Vince instructed. "It's like a current, a flow. Don't fight it. Just... listen."
Eris furrowed his brow, concentrating. At first, all he felt was his own heartbeat, rapid and uneven. But as he focused, a faint rhythm emerged beneath it, like a soft drumbeat echoing in his veins.
"Good," Vince said. "Now, imagine that flow reaching your limbs. Your hands, your feet. Guide it there, like moving water through a channel."
Eris tried, but the energy felt slippery, elusive. Every time he thought he had control, it slipped away like sand through his fingers.
"Stop forcing it," Vince said, his tone sharp. "Essence isn't something you command. It's something you work with. Respect it, and it'll respect you."
Eris took a deep breath, trying again. This time, he imagined the energy as a thread, weaving through his body. Slowly, cautiously, he guided it toward his hands. A faint warmth spread through his fingers, and he opened his eyes in surprise.
"Not bad," Vince said, glancing at him. "For a beginner."
Eris grinned, the small success fueling his determination. "What else can I do with it?"
"Don't get ahead of yourself," Vince warned. "You're weak. Your Crest's resonance is barely there. If you try to do too much, you'll burn out—or worse, you'll shatter your Crest. Then you'll be as good as dead."
Eris's grin faltered, but he nodded.
Vince turned his attention back to the road. "For now, focus on sensing and guiding your Essence. The rest will come with time—if you survive long enough to learn."
The truck rumbled on, the landscape blurring into an endless expanse of desolation. But for the first time, Eris felt a flicker of hope. The path ahead was uncertain, treacherous even. But with Vince's reluctant guidance, he was beginning to see the first glimmers of what he could become.