"Four years ago, the Gates changed everything."
I was sixteen when the first one appeared. The news called it an anomaly, a one-in-a-billion cosmic event that no one could explain. By the time they found a name for it, thousands of people had already died. Gates were doorways, they said, portals to other dimensions teeming with monsters. And those monsters? They weren't here to negotiate.
Among the first cities attacked was Seattle, and The Gate swallowed skyscrapers and streets whole, opening in the heart of downtown. I watched it on the news from the orphanage-a churning vortex of light and shadow reaching into the sky, crackling with power that defied logic. Beautiful and horrible all at once.
Within hours, the city was under siege. Monsters poured out like a living tide, tearing through everything in their path. The military responded, but bullets barely slowed the creatures down. That's when the world learned about Hunters.
They were hunters: ordinary people at first, but suddenly extraordinary. None knew why some woke up while others didn't. Maybe by chance. Maybe not. The point was that they were the only ones who could fight back. And fight they did.
I always dreamed I would awaken. Every orphanage kid hopes to be special, to find something—anything—to distinguish them from the rest. But life had other plans for me. As Hunters rose to stardom, making money and wielding power beyond anyone's wildest imagination, I was trapped in a decaying building with peeling paint and drafty windows. My days were spent juggling part-time jobs and dodging fights with older kids who thought bullying me made them tougher.
By the time I was twenty, I had long since given up on ever waking up. Most people developed their abilities within a year of the Gates. Four years had come and gone. I was normal. Ordinary. Just another face in the crowd.
Or so I thought.
Seattle hadn't gotten over the first Gate. More kept popping up, smaller but no less deadly. The skyline of the city was pockmarked with reconstruction projects that never seemed to be finished. Some buildings were abandoned completely, hollow skeletons standing as grim reminders of what we'd lost. People adapted, though. They always do. Life went on, even in the shadow of destruction.
That's where I came into the picture. Kael, no last name. Just Kael. I'd given up caring about the rest of it years ago. When you're an orphan, you learn to keep going because if you stop moving, you sink. And in a world like this, sinking wasn't exactly an option.
At twenty, I was toting parcels for one of the minor guilds. It was far from glamorous, but it paid enough to feed me. Most days, I hauled supplies between guild headquarters and dungeon raid teams, dodging traffic and that occasional loose monster that slipped through containment. It was dangerous work, but danger had become a part of life now.
"You'll awaken when you're meant to."
Those were the words Mrs. Ortega, orphanage director, would tell me. She had this strange faith in the universe, as if it had a plan for everyone. I used to believe her. Then I grew up.
Awakening wasn't something you waited for. It was something that happened to other people, people who had luck or fate or whatever on their side. I wasn't one of them. At least, that's what I thought as I pushed my way through another long day, navigating the maze of streets and alleys that made up my delivery route.
But the universe has a way of surprising you.
The day I awakened wasn't special. No sign, no dramatic buildup. Just another gray Seattle morning, the air thick with the smell of rain and exhaust. I was halfway through my deliveries when it happened. One moment, I was balancing a crate of potions on my shoulder. The next, the world tilted.
I dropped the crate. It hit the ground and shattered, spilling glowing liquid across the pavement. Pain shot through my head, sharp and relentless. My knees buckled. I braced myself against a wall, gasping for air as my vision blurred.
And then, without warning, it all just stopped.
The world around me felt different. Heavier. Like gravity had shifted, bending toward me in some way I could not explain. I looked down at my hands, and for the first time, I felt it—power. Raw, untamed, and terrifying.
I'd awakened.