The power of darkness grows as my understanding of the world grows, huh? Nicholas's thoughts swirled, trying to piece together the strange events that had unfolded. 'The voice definitely said darkness... so why the hell do I have a fire ability?' He sighed heavily. 'And of all things, why did it have to be fire?'
He glanced down at his hands, flexing his fingers as if the flames might reappear. They didn't, but the memory of their heat lingered. A shiver ran down his spine, not from the cold, but from the unwelcome rush of memories.
Nicholas absentmindedly touched his right side, where a faint scar lay hidden beneath his shirt. Over a year ago, he'd been caught in the crossfire of a battle between a hero and a villain. The scar wasn't from the villain's attack, though—no, it was a mistake—a careless, reckless move from the so-called hero who was supposed to be protecting people.
The burn had been excruciating, but what lingered longer than the physical pain was the disillusionment. The hero hadn't even looked back, hadn't noticed the damage they'd caused. That day, Nicholas vowed to steer clear of anything involving the awakened, hero or villain. He wanted no part of their world.
'And yet here I am', he thought bitterly. 'With powers of my own. Fate's got a twisted sense of humor.'
The revelation of his abilities was a stark reminder that no matter how hard he tried to avoid it, the awakened world had its grip on him. Maybe it always did, he mused, thinking back to the whispers and the glyph.
Despite his reluctance, Nicholas's mind couldn't help but race with possibilities. What exactly was his power? The voice had mentioned darkness, but the flames he'd conjured were unlike anything he'd expected. Were they connected? Or was his power something entirely different?
Then a chilling thought struck him.
'Was I able to create the flames because I knew what they felt like?' He remembered the searing pain of the burn on his abdomen, the heat, the way fire consumed everything in its path. He knew the essence of fire intimately—how it was born, how it burned, and how it could be extinguished.
Could that knowledge have shaped the dark flames?
If so, did that mean his power—the power of darkness—was the ability to create anything in the world?
Nicholas shook his head, dispelling the thought. He was getting ahead of himself. Surely he hadn't acquired an ability so extraordinary, so boundless. It had to be more limited, more grounded in some kind of logic or rule he hadn't yet uncovered.
Glancing around the room, he noticed the crowd of people huddled together. None of them seemed to have noticed him using the flames earlier, which suited him just fine. The fewer people who knew about his power, the better.
After all, he had no intention of becoming a hero or a villain. He certainly didn't want to end up on the government's radar. If he refrained from using his power, he'd be fine.
At least, that's what he told himself.
A tap on his shoulder startled him out of his thoughts. Turning around, he saw one of the store workers standing there, looking slightly nervous.
The worker cleared his throat. "There's a backup generator in the back. If you two are willing to come with me, we might be able to restore some power—enough to at least get the heaters running."
Nicholas glanced at the man who had helped him move the shelf earlier. The man shrugged as if to say, I'm fine with whatever.
"Yeah, sure," Nicholas replied. "But why us?" He couldn't help but ask. Shouldn't the store employees be handling this themselves?
The worker shifted uncomfortably. "Uh... the door's jammed, and, well... I don't exactly know where the generator is."
Nicholas resisted the urge to facepalm. That didn't answer my question. He sighed. "...Fine. Lead the way." He decided to cut the worker some slack as they were undoubtedly under the most stress.
Before leaving with the worker, he had told his brother to stay put and that he would return soon.
Nicholas followed the store worker and the larger man down an aisle toward the back of the store. The storm outside had made the building eerily quiet, the muffled sound of howling wind the only background noise. He was hyper-aware of his surroundings, trying to suppress the nagging thought of using his newfound flames to light the way. No powers. I don't need powers to open a damn door.
When they reached the back room, the worker gestured toward a heavy metal door. "It's stuck. I, uh... tried earlier, but it wouldn't budge."
The larger man stepped forward. "I'll give it a shot." He flexed his hands, the muscles in his arms rippling beneath his jacket. With a nod, he positioned himself and pushed against the door, grunting slightly as he forced it open. After a few seconds of effort, the door creaked and groaned, finally swinging inward.
"Nice," Nicholas said, genuinely impressed.
The man chuckled, brushing off his hands. "Comes in handy sometimes."
The worker, who had been nervously watching, quickly moved ahead. "Thanks. The generator should be back here somewhere." He led the way into a cluttered storage area filled with shelves of supplies and equipment.
Nicholas walked alongside the larger man, taking the opportunity to strike up a conversation. "You're pretty strong. Do you work out a lot?"
The man smiled, his expression warm despite his imposing stature. "Yeah, but not because I want to. My dad's a bodybuilder. He's been pushing me to train with him since I was a kid."
Nicholas raised an eyebrow. "Not your thing?"
"Not really," the man admitted. "I'm more into bugs."
Nicholas blinked. "Bugs?"
The man laughed at his reaction. "Yeah, I've always loved insects. I want to study them professionally—maybe become an entomologist or an insect ecologist. Bugs are way more fascinating than people give them credit for."
Nicholas found himself grinning despite the strange circumstances. "That's... unexpected. No offense, but you don't exactly look like the bug enthusiast type."
"None taken. I get that a lot," the man said with a shrug. "I guess I've got my dad to thank for that. He always said muscles would 'open doors' for me. Turns out he wasn't wrong about this one." He gestured to the door they'd just forced open.
Nicholas chuckled. "Fair enough. I'm Nick, by the way." He intentionally shortened his name, unwilling to reveal it fully.
"Luke," the man replied, offering a handshake.
Nicholas hesitated for a split second, then shook his hand. "Nice to meet you, Luke. And thanks for helping out back there with the shelf."
"No problem. You're the one who convinced everyone to let that guy in. That took guts."
Nicholas shrugged, uncomfortable with the praise. "It just felt like the right thing to do."
They continued talking as they searched for the generator, their conversation surprisingly easy despite the circumstances. Nicholas learned that Luke was only three years older than he, which surprised him given Luke's… mature demeanor. As they talked, Nicholas couldn't help but think of him as more of a gentle giant than a brute.
'Maybe not everyone with muscles is a meathead', Nicholas thought, the corners of his mouth quirking up in a small smile.
Ahead of them, the store worker called out, "I think I found it!"
Nicholas and Luke exchanged a glance before following him to the generator. The tension in the air seemed to ease slightly as they prepared to restore at least a sliver of normalcy to the storm's chaos.
After a bit of fiddling, the generator roared to life, and the store worker hurried off to activate the heaters. Luke and Nicholas made their way back to the group, only to freeze at the sight before them.
The crowd of people was pressed together tightly, their faces pale with fear. Nicholas's brother, Evan, looked especially terrified, his small frame trembling as he clung to an older woman for comfort.
In the center of the room stood the man Nicholas had saved. His posture was unnervingly loose, his movements erratic as he twirled like a grotesque dancer. A wild, crooked grin split his face, and his eyes burned with a madness that sent chills down Nicholas's spine.
Nicholas felt a wave of regret crash over him. 'Seriously? The one time I try to do something good…' He clenched his fists but stopped himself from reacting outwardly. If he made a move now, it might put his brother and everyone else at greater risk.
"Man, my luck is terrible, huh?" Nicholas muttered, forcing a dry laugh.
Luke's brow furrowed. "What's the situation?"
Nicholas kept his voice low, glancing between the villain and the frightened group. "Looks like the guy I saved is a villain. He doesn't seem to be attacking anyone—yet—but he's definitely enjoying scaring the crap out of everyone."
Luke frowned, his hands flexing at his sides. "We need to do something before he escalates."
"Yeah, no kidding." Nicholas sighed, his mind racing. "But we can't just charge in. He could use the hostages against us. And I'm guessing he's got some kind of power, which makes this even worse."
Luke nodded, his expression serious. "Okay, so what's the plan?"
Nicholas glanced around the room, taking stock of their surroundings. The shelves were packed with items, and the narrow aisles could be used to their advantage. "We need to separate him from the group. If he's isolated, he can't use the hostages as leverage."
"How do we do that?"
Nicholas bit his lip, thinking. "Distraction. One of us needs to get his attention and lead him into the aisles. The other waits for an opening to take him down. Quietly, if possible."
Luke looked hesitant. "If he's got powers, that could be risky."
"Yeah, well, it's better than waiting for him to snap and start hurting people," Nicholas replied. "Besides, if we're careful, he might not realize we're planning anything."
Luke nodded slowly. "Alright. I'll be the bait. I can handle myself if he gets aggressive."
Nicholas hesitated. Luke's size and strength made him the obvious choice for a direct confrontation, but Nicholas didn't like the idea of letting him take all the risk. "Okay. Just... don't push too hard. We don't know what he's capable of."
"Got it," Luke said with a small, reassuring smile.
As Luke prepared to approach the villain, Nicholas scanned the room for anything he could use as a weapon or a distraction. His eyes landed on a stack of canned goods nearby. Perfect.
"Hey," Nicholas whispered, catching Luke's attention. "When you lead him into the aisles, try to get him near that shelf. I'll knock it over if things get messy."
Luke glanced at the shelf and nodded. "Good thinking."
With the plan in place, Luke straightened and stepped forward, his large frame drawing immediate attention. The villain's gaze snapped to him, and his wild grin widened.
"Well, well," the villain drawled, his voice as unhinged as his expression. "What do we have here? A brave soul? Or just another fool?"
Luke smiled, keeping his tone calm and friendly. "Just thought I'd have a word with you. You seem like a guy with a lot on his mind."
The villain tilted his head, intrigued. "Oh? And what makes you think I want to chat?"
Luke shrugged, taking another step closer. "Because you haven't hurt anyone yet. You're not here to kill, are you? You're here to be heard."
Nicholas watched from the shadows, his muscles tensed and ready. As Luke skillfully engaged the villain, Nicholas moved into position, preparing for whatever came next.
The villain squinted at Luke, his grin faltering just slightly. "Heard, huh? What makes you think I need to talk to someone like you?"
Luke stayed calm, inching closer with every word. "You're putting on quite the show, but I see through it. You're looking for attention. Validation. Someone to notice you."
The villain's expression flickered between annoyance and intrigue. "And what if I am? What are you going to do about it, big guy?"
Nicholas crouched in the shadows near the canned goods and took this moment to slip further into position. He scanned the shelves for anything useful. His gaze landed on a stack of heavy glass bottles—perfect for creating distractions or makeshift weapons. He grabbed a couple and tucked them under his arm.
Meanwhile, Luke kept the villain's focus. "I'm going to listen," he said, his tone steady. "But not while you're terrorizing a bunch of innocent people. If you want to talk, let's take this somewhere else."
The villain laughed, the sound sharp and grating. "Oh, you think you're clever, don't you? Trying to get me alone so you can play the hero. I've seen your type before."
Luke shook his head. "I'm not a hero. I'm just trying to stop you from doing something you'll regret."
The villain sneered. "Regret? The only thing I regret is wasting time on idiots like you." With that, he lunged at Luke, his movements faster than Nicholas expected for someone of his size.
Luke dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding a wild swing that smashed into a shelf, sending products clattering to the floor. "Guess we're doing this the hard way," Luke muttered, backing into the aisle as planned.
Nicholas gritted his teeth, moving quickly but silently. He reached the other end of the aisle and positioned himself behind the villain. He could see the subtle tension in Luke's body as the larger man prepared to dodge again.
The villain charged at Luke once more, with what appeared to be enhanced strength allowing him to toss aside shelves like they were made of cardboard. Luke ducked and sidestepped, using his size to absorb the blows and keep the villain focused on him.
Nicholas saw his chance. As the villain swung again, Nicholas hurled one of the glass bottles at the ground a few feet away. The loud crash made the villain spin around in confusion.
"What the—?" the villain barked, his eyes darting to the source of the noise.
Luke didn't waste the opportunity. He surged forward and tackled the villain, using his full weight to pin him against the damaged shelf. The villain snarled and tried to push him off, but Luke held firm.
Nicholas grabbed a heavy can and ran up behind the villain. With as much force as he could muster, he slammed it into the back of the villain's head. The man roared in pain, thrashing around.
"Keep going!" Luke grunted, struggling to maintain his hold.
Nicholas didn't hesitate. He swung again, this time aiming for the villain's ribs. The impact forced the air from the villain's lungs, and his movements became sluggish.
Luke took advantage of the moment, shifting his grip to lock the villain's arms behind his back. "Now what?" he panted, glancing at Nicholas.
Nicholas looked around, his mind racing. "We tie him up. There's got to be something around here we can use."
Luke nodded, dragging the struggling villain toward the back of the store. Nicholas quickly found a bundle of thick rope and tossed them to Luke, who expertly secured the villain's arms and legs.
The villain thrashed weakly but couldn't break free. "You'll regret this!" he spat, his voice hoarse.
Nicholas crouched down to meet his gaze. "Maybe." He replied curtly, unwilling to converse with the villain.
"Let's stash him somewhere until the authorities show up." Luke hoisted the subdued villain onto his shoulder.
As the two of them carried the restrained villain toward a storage room, Nicholas glanced back at the frightened crowd. Evan met his gaze, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and awe.
Nicholas gave a small, reassuring nod. "It's over," he murmured, though he wasn't sure if he believed it. The sight of the villain restrained on the floor sent a wave of unease through him. Even though the man had threatened the group, Nicholas couldn't shake the feeling that his actions, though necessary, had been a bit too much.
His eyes lingered on the subdued figure, and for a brief moment, he thought he saw black veins pulsing beneath the villain's skin. Nicholas blinked, rubbing his eyes, but when he looked again, the strange markings were gone, as if they'd never been there.
"Creepy…" he muttered under his breath, pulling Evan closer as if to shield his younger brother from the lingering unease.
They waited for what felt like an eternity, the atmosphere tense and thick with quiet murmurs, before the sound of voices echoed from outside. Relief washed over the group as the store doors were unblocked, revealing police officers and paramedics swarming the area. The snowstorm had all but disappeared, the once-icy landscape now slowly melting into slush, hinting that whatever strange phenomenon had caused it had finally ended—at least for now.
The police began questioning everyone in the store. When it was Nicholas's turn, he answered the officer's inquiries carefully and truthfully—up to a point. He left out any mention of his ability, and Luke, to Nicholas's relief, didn't bring it up either. He also avoided admitting that he had let the villain into the store in the first place. Thankfully, none of the other witnesses seemed to realize this and instead praised him for his actions in subduing the threat.
The guilt weighed on him as he glanced at Evan, who was huddled close. Without a word, Nicholas knelt down and let Evan climb onto his back for another piggyback ride. He wanted nothing more than to leave the scene and the memories of the event behind him.
As they walked home, the cold air bit at his skin, but it didn't bother him nearly as much as the thoughts swirling in his mind. The day had been strange, terrifying, and surreal. But one thing was clear—this wasn't the last time he'd have to confront his powers or the growing complexity of the world around him.
'For some reason… I have a feeling the disaster is yet to come,' Nicholas thought grimly, the weight of the day pressing heavily on him. Despite the relief of being home, a gnawing unease lingered in his chest.
***
Unaware of how true his intuition was, far away, Markus stood in a dimly lit room, his hands trembling slightly as he fiddled with a large, metallic device. The device looked intricate and ominous, its various panels and wires glinting under the harsh fluorescent light.
"Now… I just have to wait for the Big Man to deliver on his part, once I have that… I'll be able to stabilize it. The test run earlier proved it was still too unstable…" Markus muttered to himself, exhaling a shaky breath. His reflection stared back at him from the polished surface of the machine. His face was pale, his eyes shadowed by sleepless nights and endless doubts.
'What… what am I doing? Am I seriously going to go through with this?' His thoughts spiraled, his hands stilling on the device. 'What would my family think of me if they knew? Would they hate me? Would they understand? Am I making a mistake?'
As his mind raced, something in his peripheral vision caught his attention. In the device's reflection, he saw the faint outline of a figure—a man or something resembling one—standing just behind him.
A chill ran down Markus's spine, and he froze in place. Slowly, almost unwillingly, he turned around, his breath hitching as his eyes locked onto the presence that now filled the room.
There, a demon awaited him.
And with that, the air grew heavier, the silence sharper, as Markus's fate unraveled before him.