A sleek, red sports car sped down the dirt road toward the mansion. Its once-pristine body was scarred with dents and scratches—evidence of a battle on the road. It came to a stop. The driver's door opened, and a tall, dark-skinned man stepped out, his dreadlocks swaying slightly in the breeze. Despite the exhaustion in his movements, he smiled—not a forced or weary smile, but one filled with amusement, as if he had just walked through hell and found the whole thing entertaining.
Kael's room was spacious, with a king-size bed covered in crisp white sheets. Beside the bed sat a framed family picture of four. They looked happy.
The man in the photo wore a sharp red suit that matched his wife's elegant red dress. His short, well-kept hair and neatly trimmed facial hair framed a wide smile as he held his little daughter in his arms. She looked no older than three.
Beside them, a young Kael clung to his mother's leg. She stood tall, nearly as tall as her husband, her skin a rich brown compared to his darker complexion. A stylish scarf wrapped around her neck, accentuating her natural beauty.
Kael sat at the center of the room in a lotus position, staring at the black box.
As he contemplated his next move, the door creaked open.
A tall man with an athletic build—one that rivaled Kael's— stepped inside. For a brief moment, a flicker of flame danced in his brown eyes before vanishing just as quickly.
A silly smile played on his lips, yet there was something calculated about his every move—like nothing he did was by accident.
It was the same dreadlocked man who had just arrived.
"Hmph, you don't dare to awaken? I was hoping we could spar, but I'm afraid your fragile body wouldn't survive it."
Locks' gaze flicked to the black box beside Kael, and he smirked. It was obvious—Kael hadn't dared to take the risk. His tone was teasing, but beneath it lay an understanding of the stakes, of the dilemma Kael was facing.
Still, they had always challenged each other in everything since the day they met. Yet, for the first time, Locks saw Kael hesitate.
"I'm thinking we should rename you to Jes—"
"Why do I smell sweat and piss?"
Locks' playful grin turned into a stranger expression. He had been about to verbally assault Kael again, but the unexpected remark caught him off guard.
It wasn't true, of course. But for some reason, his face twitched in annoyance—as if Kael hit a nerve, stirring a buried memory.
Kael leaned back with a smirk. "I could still wipe the floor with you, even in this 'fragile' body. If you have nothing important to say, get out of my room before I throw you out like a homeless dog."
His words landed perfectly. Locks' expression darkened. Seeing that reaction, Kael's satisfied smile widened. But he didn't stop there—he added more, just to push the annoyance further.
These two had been friends for years, but to outsiders, their constant back-and-forth might look like genuine hostility.
Locks—that's what everyone called him, most likely because of his dreadlocks. Ever since they met, they had always had each other's backs.
"That would cost you a few limbs," Locks shot back lazily. "But I'll let it slide—only because Aunt would have my head if her little boy got hurt."
This time, Kael ignored him.
Locks stretched, then his expression shifted to something more serious. "Anyway, guess who I ran into in the city?"
Kael arched a brow.
"He's doing well for himself. Has power, influence among the gangs. But he's keeping some ungodly company, and I don't like what they're up to."
Locks took out a phone and tossed it to Kael. "There was no way to avoid his men, so we had a little… confrontation. I got away, but knowing his hate for both of us, I expect trouble."
Kael glanced at the phone screen. A picture.
Ten men stood around a single figure, the center of attention.
A man with red hair, dressed in a sharp black suit.
The image had been taken in secret, so his outline wasn't entirely clear. But even in shadow, he looked important.
Kael looked at the photo, then at Locks, and shook his head.
He knew his friend well—he had definitely gone looking for trouble, attracting unwanted attention. Considering his history with the red-haired man, it was only a matter of time before trouble came knocking.
"...Let's think about what to do later. I'll deal with this first."
His gaze fell on the black box. He still remembered Locks' painful awakening.
"Well… that is, if I can still think afterward."
Exhaling deeply, he sat back into a lotus position, a newfound determination settling over him.
The sight of the red-haired man had brought back everything he had endured—yet he survived.
He had defied the odds countless times. From having nothing to becoming a multimillionaire. Along that journey, he had crossed paths with all kinds of people—outlaws, government officials, and power-hungry elites.
He had suffered both psychologically and physically at their hands.
Yet, he endured. He achieved.
And there was no way he was giving up without trying.
The rest, he would leave to fate.
---
Locks sighed, leaning against the wall.
"I'll be here if you decide to do it now. Just make sure you awaken—otherwise, I'll have a hard time explaining it to Aunt. She'd definitely throw me into hot oil."
Despite his usual teasing tone, worry was written all over his face as he closed the door and stood in the corner, waiting.
Kael opened the box.
Inside, nestled within the dark interior, lay a beautiful, sharp-edged, palm-sized orange crystal.
He took a deep breath, then grabbed the crystal. It felt significantly heavier than it looked, its weight pressing into his palm.
Few had successfully awakened. Most had failed.
Failure, in itself, wasn't the issue. The real problem was that no one who failed ever came back alive.
Failure meant death.
That knowledge had deterred many. But Kael had faced life-and-death situations before. He didn't fear death itself—what haunted him was the question that gnawed at his mind.
"What if I fail? What will happen to my family then?"
If he failed, his death was guaranteed. His family—his mother, his sister—would be left to suffer in this hopeless world. That fear rooted him in hesitation.
His family had found happiness, even for a short while. If he failed, their grief would be unbearable. But doing nothing wasn't an option either.
If he didn't take this risk, he would be powerless when they needed him the most.
And there was nothing more painful than watching your loved ones suffer—knowing you had a chance to protect them, but you were too much of a coward to take it.
"I am no quitter. I am no loser. There is no place for losers in this world. I cannot afford to quit.
For my sake. For my sister. For my mother's sake."
His grip tightened.
With decisive force, he crushed the crystal in his right hand.
A sharp crack echoed in the silent room.
Then, suddenly—he felt it.
An alien energy surged into his body, invading him with a warmth that was almost... addictive.
But just a second later, the pain hit.
A white-hot agony ripped through his being, like a thousand needles piercing every inch of his flesh. It was intense, unbearable.
Kael fought against it with everything he had.
His teeth clenched so tightly it seemed they might shatter. His fingernails dug into his palms, his body trembling violently under the assault.
And still, the pain continued.
His vision blurred, shifting between darkness and blinding light. His muscles locked. His vision darkened.
Something inside him cracked—like his body was on the verge of tearing itself apart. Then, everything went black.
Kael's body went limp as he passed out.
Locks' eyes widened in alarm. Seeing his friend collapse, he rushed forward, kneeling beside him.
Kael's entire body was drenched in cold sweat. Blood had seeped from his eyes, ears, and nose—but it had already stopped.
Heart pounding, Locks anxiously checked his vitals.
For several agonizing seconds, he held his breath—until finally, he let out a sigh of relief.
Kael was stabilizing.
Locks slumped back slightly, wiping a hand across his forehead. If Kael had died, he had no idea how he would have faced his mother and sister.
They both knew she wouldn't approve of him attempting to awaken, which was why they had kept this a secret.
In fact, no one even knew Locks had awakened—except Kael.
The two of them had decided to hide the truth to avoid worrying their loved ones too much.
As Locks sat on the floor, staring at his unconscious friend, he sensed something—something subtle yet unsettling.
The room trembled ever so slightly. If not for his superhuman senses, he might have missed it.
His brows furrowed. "Is this your doing, man?" He let out a dry chuckle, glancing at Kael's motionless form. "I've never seen anyone cause a disturbance during their awakening… Don't tell me you're actually the MC or something? Hahaha!"
Despite his teasing, a sliver of unease crept into his mind.
He leaned forward, inspecting Kael closely—but nothing seemed out of place.
Just as he relaxed, ready to lean back against the wall—it happened.
A deep, rumbling tremor.
Objects began slipping from their places—books tumbling from shelves, picture frames crashing onto the floor.
Then—a violent shake.
The entire room lurched. The very world seemed to shudder as a sudden, powerful earthquake struck without warning.