The first thing I felt was cold.
Not the kind of cold you get from winter air or a drafty room, but the deep, bone-chilling kind. The kind that seeps into your flesh and makes you forget what warmth even feels like.
The second thing I felt was pain. A dull, aching throb in my skull, like someone had taken a crowbar to it.
The third thing I realized was that I wasn't supposed to be feeling anything at all.
I opened my eyes to pure darkness. My breath came out ragged, and the air smelled of chemicals—disinfectant, formaldehyde, and something metallic. My fingers twitched against a hard, icy surface. Slowly, I reached up and touched my face. My skin was cold. Too cold.
Then I heard it.
Click.
A metal latch unlocking.
A second later, the world shifted, and I found myself sliding forward. Dim, flickering light flooded my vision as I tumbled onto the floor, my body crashing against cold tiles.
I gasped for air.
I was in a morgue.
Rows of metal drawers lined the walls, each one labeled with a number. A fluorescent light buzzed above me, casting a sickly glow over the room. A few feet away, a man in a white coat stood frozen in shock, his eyes wide, clipboard slipping from his grasp.
"W-what the hell?!" he stammered, stumbling back.
I didn't blame him. If I were in his shoes, I'd be freaking out too.
Because I had died.
I remembered it clearly now. The alleyway. The rain. The cold steel of a knife slipping between my ribs. The taste of blood in my mouth. The sound of my own heartbeat slowing down.
I was murdered.
So why the hell was I still alive?
Before I could process anything else, a voice echoed in my head.
> [You have absorbed a soul.]
[You have inherited the ability: "Ghost Step."]
I flinched. The words weren't spoken aloud. They simply appeared, like a thought forced into my mind. A notification, almost like… a game system?
My pulse quickened. This wasn't normal. None of this was normal.
Then, as if on instinct, I felt it—the new presence inside me. A power that wasn't mine before. My body reacted before my brain did, and the next thing I knew, I was moving. My vision blurred for a split second, and then—
I was across the room.
The doctor yelped, spinning around, but I was already behind him. I hadn't walked. I hadn't even run. I had simply… stepped through space, appearing somewhere else.
Ghost Step.
That name—it belonged to someone. Someone I knew.
Jared Liu. A low-tier Awakened mercenary. He had the ability to shift short distances in the blink of an eye. And he had died.
In this very morgue.
My breathing came in sharp gasps. Somehow, I had stolen his power.
No, not stolen. Inherited.
I looked down at my hands. They were trembling. My mind was screaming at me, telling me this was impossible. But my body—my instincts—told me otherwise.
And then, as the full weight of my situation hit me, I realized something.
If I could take abilities from the dead…
Then I wasn't going to be a victim anymore.
I was going to hunt down the bastard who put me in that alley.
And when I found him?
I'd take everything from him, just like he did to me.
To be continued ...