A cold wind blew through the rubble, bringing with it the haunting reverberations of a lost world. Rael's hands shook as he followed the cryptic symbols on his wrist—symbols not seen before. His body still throbbed from the previous night, the frantic battle for survival. The instant lingered in his mind—the touch of death passing by, only to have something within him stir.
The sickly silver light in his eyes was gone, but the feeling remained. Something was different. He sensed it in his veins, vibrating like a thunderstorm brewing to unleash itself.
His belly rumbled. Survival was the priority. Power or not, he would not live long if he went hungry. He hauled himself upright, looking around at the deserted ruins that surrounded him. Shattered walls extended in all directions, the remains of a lost civilization. He'd never been here before. How did he get here?
A noise. Footsteps.
Rael's body stiffened. He spun round, eyes hardening as a group of silhouettes pushed out of the darkness. Five men, muffled in tattered armor, their faces caked with dust and scars. Bandits.
One of them, a burly man armed with a rusty axe, snarled. "Look what we've got here, boys. A little lost rat."
The others laughed, their eyes shining with starvation—not for bread, but for the rush of cruelty.
Rael's heart was racing. He had no gun, no concept of what he could do. But something within him spoke. Fight.
The instant they struck, his body seemed to act of its own accord. A burst of power coursed through his body, quicker than his mind could register. His footwork changed, his body zigzagging between their blows with mechanical fluidity. His hand snapped out, wrapping around the bandit's wrist before he could defend himself—then with a wrenching twist, he heard the disquieting crunch of bone.
The bandit shrieked. The others were taken aback, faltering.
Rael sensed it again. That power. It wasn't instinct—it was something else. He could sense the rhythm of the fight, the openings in their movements, as if his body knew what to do before his mind could catch up.
The next one brandished a dagger. Rael moved out of the way, brushing fingers against the assailant's shoulder. Without delay, his muscles sprang into action and threw the man onto the floor with a sudden throw.
The last three receded a pace. Fear lingered in their eyes.
Rael took a breath, breathing normally. What is this gift?
For once, in a lifetime, he was not on the run.
He was hunting now.