บท 2: Chapter 2: Whispers of Power
The rain continued to fall, cold and unrelenting, as Kael stumbled through the narrow alleys of Backlund's impoverished district. His body felt both alien and electric, as though it pulsed with a rhythm not entirely his own. The remnants of the Sequence 9 Hunter's memories buzzed in his mind, fragmented and disjointed, but with enough clarity to provide him a foundation for survival.
Kael stopped under the cover of a rusted iron awning, his hand unconsciously reaching for the vial of liquid in his pocket. The Beyonder's potion. The whispers of knowledge embedded in his mind told him that consuming the potion would anchor the power he had stolen, making it his own. Yet, the danger of madness loomed over the act like a specter.
He tilted the vial, watching the liquid swirl with an iridescent sheen under the dim light. His reflection in the glass revealed a pale, gaunt face, eyes burning with something unearthly. "If I don't take this, I'll never stand a chance," he muttered to himself, gripping the vial tighter.
The memories of the Hunter revealed the risks. Each Sequence potion brought with it the risk of losing oneself, of becoming something monstrous. But Kael had no choice. He was in a city teeming with predators—Beyonders, cultists, and organizations with their own agendas. Weakness meant death.
Taking a deep breath, Kael uncorked the vial and drank.
The world around him shattered like glass. Colors bled into one another, the air rippling with invisible forces. Pain coursed through his body, sharp and relentless, as if his veins were being rearranged by unseen hands. He fell to his knees, clutching his chest as the power surged through him. His thoughts fragmented, voices and images clashing in a chaotic maelstrom.
He saw visions: shadows creeping through the streets, creatures with too many eyes, and figures cloaked in divine light. He felt as if he were being torn apart and stitched back together, each thread a piece of the Hunter's essence binding to his own.
Then, as suddenly as it began, the chaos subsided.
Kael gasped for air, his hands trembling. The world seemed sharper now, every sound and movement amplified. He could hear the faint drip of water from a nearby gutter and the distant footsteps of someone walking blocks away. The shadows around him seemed to shift and bend, almost as if they recognized him.
When he looked down at his hands, they felt... different. Stronger. He flexed his fingers, and the air around them shimmered faintly. The memories of the Hunter crystallized in his mind, giving him a clear understanding of the abilities he had gained.
"Disguise," he whispered, the word coming unbidden. He focused, and his features began to shift subtly. The sharp angles of his face softened, his hair darkened, and even his posture changed. He glanced at a puddle on the ground, seeing the face of a stranger staring back at him.
"Invisibility." He stepped into the shadows and willed himself to fade. The sensation was strange, like sinking into water without ever getting wet. When he emerged, he found his heart racing, exhilarated by the possibilities.
Kael spent the next few hours testing his newfound abilities. The city was a labyrinth of narrow streets and towering buildings, each corner hiding its own secrets. He kept to the shadows, honing the skills that felt so natural yet so foreign.
By the time the rain let up, he had gained a sense of control over his powers. But questions still lingered. Who was Yhwach? What was the source of this Almighty? And why had Kael, of all people, been chosen—or cursed—with such power?
Answers would not come easily, but Kael knew where to start.
The bell above the door tinkled faintly as Kael stepped into the shop. It was a cramped, musty place, filled with rows of books stacked haphazardly on shelves that looked ready to collapse. The air smelled of old paper and dust, with a faint undercurrent of something metallic.
Behind the counter sat an old man with a wiry frame and sharp eyes that seemed to pierce through Kael's newly crafted disguise. He didn't look up from the thick tome in his hands but spoke in a gruff voice. "We don't serve just anyone here."
Kael smirked, reaching into his pocket to pull out a small trinket he'd taken from the Hunter—a coin marked with strange runes. He placed it on the counter, the metal catching the dim light.
The old man's gaze snapped to the coin, his expression shifting to something unreadable. He closed his book and stood, inspecting the coin closely before pocketing it. "I see. What are you looking for?"
"Information," Kael replied, leaning against the counter. "About Sequences, Beyonders, and the organizations in this city."
The old man raised an eyebrow. "That's dangerous knowledge you're asking for."
"I'm aware," Kael said evenly. "But I'm willing to pay the price."
The man studied him for a long moment before nodding. "Follow me."
Kael was led to a back room, dimly lit and filled with even more books, these bound in leather and etched with symbols that seemed to move when looked at too closely. The old man pulled one from the shelf and placed it on the table.
"This is a starting point," he said. "A compendium of Sequences, written by someone who knew far too much for their own good. But be warned—knowledge isn't free, and it's rarely safe."
Kael opened the book, the pages filled with diagrams, symbols, and densely packed text. He felt the stirrings of The Almighty within him, the power seeming to grasp the patterns and meanings instantly.
"Thank you," he said, glancing up.
The old man gave a thin smile. "Don't thank me yet, boy. You've taken your first step into a world where men become monsters, and ambition can consume the soul. Pray you have the strength to survive."
Kael nodded, clutching the book tightly. "I will. And I'll do more than survive."
He stepped back into the rain-soaked streets, the whispers of power growing louder in his mind. His journey was just beginning.
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