A sharp, rhythmic tapping cut through the haze of sleep. Not loud, but persistent. Annoying. The dull ache in my skull throbbed in time with it, dragging me back into consciousness whether I wanted it or not.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
I groaned, shifting slightly. My limbs felt like they were filled with lead, my body slow to register movement. My mouth was dry, and my head pounded like I'd been hit with a sledgehammer.
Tap.
Something hard rapped against my skull, just above my ear.
I flinched. "Tch—quit it."
Uncle huffed, unimpressed. "You gonna wake up properly or just lay there like a dead rat?"
I forced my eyes open—not that it did much. Black, white, shades of grey. The usual. I put on my blindfold, returning to my darkness. The vibrations of the shack settled around me, familiar but heavier than I remembered. I sat up slowly, the cot creaking beneath me. My muscles screamed in protest.
"How long?" I muttered. My voice came out rough, dry.
Uncle shifted nearby, his presence like a stone—sturdy, unmoving. "Day and a half."
That jolted me awake. My back straightened. "What?"
A rustling sound—probably him crossing his arms. "Collapsed mine, staggering in here like a drunk, dead to the world for over a day… You tell me if that sounds normal."
I pressed my fingers to my temples. The memories were there, but hazy. The cave-in. The vibrations twisting into something unrecognizable. That moment—when the rock should've crushed me, but didn't. My pulse quickened at the thought.
"You tell me," I said, lowering my hands. "You always got something to say."
Uncle let out a slow exhale through his nose, the way he always did when he was trying not to scold me outright. "Something happened back there."
I stayed silent.
"You should be dead."
I clenched my jaw. He wasn't wrong. But I wasn't ready to admit that I didn't know why I wasn't.
Uncle didn't push. Not yet. He just let the silence settle, filling the space between us with nothing but the distant hum of the slums. Finally, he sighed. "Get up. You need food before you fall over again."
I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling slowly. "Yeah… fine."
He stepped away, muttering something about stubborn idiots under his breath. I ignored him. Because no matter how much he prodded, no matter how much I wanted to ignore it—
Something had changed.
And I didn't know why.
The only sound was the scrape of metal against wood.
Uncle's fork dragged across his plate, carving off a chunk of something dry and overcooked. Mine sat half-eaten in front of me, though I wasn't sure if it was because I wasn't hungry or because the silence between us had stolen my appetite.
The shack was quiet—too quiet. Usually, there was something: Uncle mumbling about work, the distant noise of the slums seeping through the cracks in the walls. But tonight, it was just this—the two of us sitting at the table, saying nothing.
I focused on the weight of the fork in my hand, the dull vibration of the table under my fingers. Every movement felt too loud. The scrape of my plate as I shifted it. The slow crunch when Uncle chewed. Even my own breathing.
I knew he wanted to say something. He'd been looking at me sideways since I woke up. I could feel it, the way his attention settled on me every few minutes like he was waiting for me to talk first.
I didn't.
He didn't either.
He picked up his cup, took a slow sip, then set it down. The thunk of it against the table made my shoulders tense for no reason.
I stabbed my food. Didn't eat it.
The silence stretched. Heavy. Uncomfortable.
Finally, Uncle exhaled—long, tired, like he was giving up on whatever words he had. The chair scraped against the floor as he stood. He took his plate, mine too, even though I hadn't finished.
He didn't say anything.
Neither did I.
The water sloshed in the basin as he started washing up. I leaned back in my chair, listening.
Still not speaking.
And that was that.
Samael stepped out of the crumbling doorway, his coat heavy with rain as it clung to his skin. The slums stretched before him, gray and soaked, the streets slick with puddles that reflected the dull sky. He didn't glance back at the broken house behind him. The silence felt louder than any words he could have said.
The hum of the slums surrounded him—the faint cries of distant voices, the shuffle of tired feet on wet stone—but he barely noticed. His blindfold tightened around his face, as it always did, blocking out a world that had no color for him.
He walked, his boots splashing in the wet streets, the vibrations underfoot dull and muted. His thoughts were heavy, swirling in a constant loop. What had happened to him? To this place? Everything felt different now, and yet, nothing had changed.
The rain fell steadily, washing over the broken city. Samael didn't stop. He couldn't.
I didn't hear her coming, but suddenly, a crash—a weight slammed into my chest, throwing me off balance. I staggered, almost falling, but caught myself just in time. Before I could react, I heard her voice—sharp, frantic—right in my ear.
"You won't believe what I saw, Samael!" she blurted, words spilling out in a rush. "At the Lemmings Household! The master and the young master were using wave! They were—"
For some reason the rain cleared up, it was as if a sun came and cleared the skies. Even if that sun just so happens to be an annoying and ignorant girl names Eda.
I sighed heavily, not bothering to shoo her off. I'd learned long ago that Eda could be unpredictable, but I wasn't surprised by her enthusiasm. The Length District was full of people who could wield Wave—controlling light, bending it in ways most couldn't. That wasn't news.
But what she said next made the ground under my feet feel unsteady.
"They were making ice, Samael! Lightning! Water! They were controlling the elements like it was nothing, like it was part of the Wave! I didn't even know it was possible!"
I felt a shift in the air, a crackling energy as her words sank in. I had seen people bend light, manipulate it. But ice? Lightning? Water? That was something entirely different. Something new. Something dangerous.
I stood there for a moment, my mind whirring, trying to piece it all together. The rich had always had access to power, but this? This was beyond anything I had ever heard of.
Before I could process what Eda was saying, the sound of heavy footsteps broke through the puddles of rain—a steady, forceful rhythm that made my stomach tighten. I didn't need to see him to know who it was. The Mine Manager. The bastard from the Length District, always dragging his fragile ego and authority with him like a shadow. And right now, his footsteps were more erratic than usual—slower, heavier. He was drunk, or damn close to it.
I could feel the tremors of his footsteps grow louder as he drew closer, the vibrations sharp against the ground. He was angry, no doubt about it, and with him stumbling through the slums in his usual haze, I knew we were his target.
Eda must've felt it too—her energy dropped, and she fell silent. But it was too late to run, too late to hide. The Mine Manager had already spotted us.
"Well, well," he slurred, his voice thick with alcohol and venom, "if it isn't two of the slum rats. Out here playing in the rain, huh?" His tone dripped with mockery. "What's the matter, lost your way?"
I didn't speak. I never liked to talk to him, but now when he is like this—drunk, angry, looking for someone to lash out at. And of course, it was us he had to run into.
His footsteps came closer, and I could practically hear the sneer in his voice. "I think I've found the perfect two to take my anger out on."
Eda shifted nervously beside me, but I stayed still, every muscle in my body tense. The air was thick with tension, the vibrations of his approach almost unbearable.
He was from the Length District, a man sent to oversee the slums, but he wasn't one of us, nor was he one of them. He had the power, the privilege, the Wave that made him untouchable to those here, but not to the others in the Length District. We were nothing to him but tools to be used, things to break when it suited him. Just as he was nothing to the peopl with real power.
I didn't even have to see him to know what was coming. But whatever it was, I wasn't going to let him get close to Eda.
But before I could brace for whatever he was going to say or do, something I didn't expect happened.
He pulled out a lighter—a simple, worn thing—and flicked it open with a loud snap. For a moment, I thought nothing of it. But then, the flame didn't just flicker and burn in the usual way. It rose in the air, twisting, curling around his fingers like it had a mind of its own.
He grinned, clearly seeing the shock on our faces, and flicked his wrist. The flame moved, dancing in the air like a living thing, obeying his every gesture. The heat pulsed in the air, but it wasn't the kind of heat I was used to from a simple flame. He was controlling it. Twisting the flame, shaping it—moving it with just a flick of his hand.
"Impressed?" His voice was smug, as if this display was some kind of twisted performance for our benefit. "I don't think you've seen anything like this, have you?"
I stood still, the weight of his power pressing down on me. I had seen people manipulate light, sure, but this—this was something different. Something beyond what I thought was possible. Flame? Manipulating it like it was just another part of the Wave?
I could feel Eda's nervous energy beside me, her breathing quickening as the flame hovered between us, its heat stinging the air.
The Mine Manager's smile twisted. "You think you rats can just walk around like you own the place?" he muttered, flicking the lighter again, the flame suddenly turning into a ball of fire that hovered just inches from my face. "You don't know your place."
It wasn't just the flame I was focused on—it was the way he moved it, how it obeyed his every whim, like it was an extension of him. It would have been mesmerizing if he was not threatening me right now.
The Mine Manager's grin widened, and with a sudden, savage motion, he thrust his hand forward. The flame he'd been controlling shot out like a missile, a fireball that collided with my chest. The impact was like a punch straight to my ribs—heat and force that sent me stumbling backward, the vibrations blurring from the shock of it.
Eda's panicked shout reached my ears before the pain did. "Samael!" Her voice was full of fear, and I heard her rushing toward me, but I couldn't focus on her. The heat from the fireball still burned against my skin, and my chest throbbed as I tried to regain my footing.
But the Mine Manager wasn't done. Still drunk, still seething, he turned his anger toward Eda. Without a second thought, he grabbed her by the hair, yanking her head back roughly, his fingers digging into her scalp.
"You're just as worthless as he is," he spat, his breath smelling of alcohol and rage. Eda cried out in pain, her hands clawing at his grip, but he didn't let go.
I could feel the sting of the fireball on my chest, the pain still radiating through me, but my thoughts snapped into focus. I wasn't about to let him do whatever he wanted to Eda, or to me. I gritted my teeth, my heart pounding, and forced myself to my feet, every movement sharp with adrenaline.
"Let her go," I growled, the words barely more than a rasp. The Mine Manager's eyes flicked over to me, his face twisted into a sneer.
"Or what?" he taunted, tightening his grip on Eda's hair.
I could barely think through the haze of pain, but I wasn't going to back down. Not now. Not with her like this. The Mine Manager was drunk, angry, and far too sure of himself. But I didn't care. The anger inside me was rising, fueled by the fire in my chest, the way he was treating us like we were nothing.
Pain surged through my chest, but I didn't care. I wasn't going to let him hurt her any more than he already had. Without thinking, I pushed through the haze of fire and shock, moving as fast as I could.
The wetness of the ground was cold and steady, but it wasn't the chill of it that made me move. It was the sight of Eda's struggle, the way her face twisted in pain as the Mine Manager yanked at her hair. That was all the fuel I needed.
I rushed forward, my steps heavy, but I made it close enough. With a swift, violent motion, I kicked my leg out, sending a splash of water from the puddles directly into the Mine Manager's eyes. He recoiled, cursing, blinking rapidly to clear his vision.
That was all I needed.
I lunged at him, knocking him off balance. He stumbled backward, and I crashed into him with all my weight, tackling him to the ground. The wet ground beneath us was slick, but it didn't matter. I was on top of him, my hands grabbing at his collar, forcing him down, away from Eda.
He fought back, swinging his fists, but I didn't care. I couldn't care. All I could focus on was getting him away from her. His grip loosened for just a second, and I took the opportunity to shove him harder, forcing him to the ground with a growl of frustration.
The Mine Manager was drunk, but he wasn't weak. He thrashed beneath me, but I kept him pinned, my chest heaving, trying to ignore the fresh burn that was still on my chest. I kept my focus, kept my grip tight.
"Stay down," I muttered through clenched teeth, pushing him into the mud. He struggled, but it was useless. He wasn't going to get up.
The Mine Manager's rage flared, and before I could react, he slammed his forehead into mine, the blow sending a shockwave of pain through my skull. I reeled back, dizzy, but the sound of his lighter flicking open again brought me back to the present. The flame ignited in his hand, and I could feel the heat building as he prepared to use it against me.
He was too quick, too angry to stop now.
Just as he raised his hand, ready to unleash the flame, I saw Eda move. She rushed toward us, her eyes wide with fear. "Samael!" she screamed, trying to push me out of the way, to stop the Manager from attacking.
Before I could stop her, she stepped directly between us.
The fireball shot out, and in a heartbeat, the heat seared across Eda's back. She gasped, her body jerking from the impact, and the smell of burning fabric and flesh filled the air. Her scream echoed in my ears, sharp and full of pain.
"Eda!" I shouted, my heart plummeting as I felt her crumple, clutching her back, her clothes smoldering.
The Mine Manager froze for a second, his drunken haze fading as he realized what he'd just done. But I couldn't think about him right now.
Without hesitation, I pushed myself off the ground, my body aching from the impact, and rushed to her side. She was trembling, her back marked with dark, angry burns, the skin already blistering where the flame had touched her.
I reached out, my hands shaking, and tried to pull her into my arms. "Stay with me, Eda, stay with me," I muttered, though I didn't know if she could hear me. Her face was pale, her breath shallow as she winced in pain, tears streaking down her cheeks.
The Mine Manager's laughter bubbled up from behind us, harsh and cruel, like nails on a chalkboard.
Anger coursed through me, a flood of hot, black rage that I couldn't control. My body was shaking with the weight of everything—the pain in my chest, the sight of Eda burning, the Mine Manager's cruel laughter echoing in my ears. And suddenly, it was like something inside me snapped.
Without thinking, without even fully understanding what I was doing, I raised my hand, fingers twitching in a way I hadn't meant to. The same feeling I had felt in the mines, that strange, consuming force that rumbled deep within me, surged to the surface again.
Flames exploded from my palm.
The fire shot out with a force I couldn't comprehend, a burst of heat and light that flew straight at the Mine Manager's face. He didn't have time to react. The flames hit him head-on, engulfing him in searing fire that twisted and writhed as it burned into his skin. His scream was loud and jagged, filled with agony as the fire melted his flesh.
I didn't stop. I couldn't.
The flames licked at him, burning his face, his hands, his clothes. His body writhed on the wet ground, a desperate attempt to escape the pain, but the fire clung to him like an unrelenting force. His movements slowed, the cries turning into incoherent sobs before they faded entirely. The smell of charred flesh mixed with the freshly stopped rain, and I could barely stand the weight of it.
But it was done. The Mine Manager was still now, lying on the ground in a heap of scorched skin and soot, passed out from the pain—or maybe worse. I didn't care. I couldn't.
I turned back to Eda, my hands trembling as I lowered them. She was still there, clutching her burned back, her face pale from shock. My mind reeled, my body unsteady as I knelt beside her.
I didn't know what had just happened. The fire, the Wave—none of it made sense. But, I had no time to think, I had to get Eda treated immediately.
I didn't think, I just acted. My hands shook as I pulled Eda into my arms, trying to ignore the heat of her burns, the way she trembled against me. I had to get her out of here. I had to get her somewhere safe. The air was freezing, the cold mixing with the heat of my own fury, but it didn't matter.
I turned and started running, my legs moving instinctively, my heart pounding. The pounding in my chest felt like it would rip me apart, but I couldn't stop. I wasn't about to let her suffer alone. Not after everything.
But as I ran, that same tiredness from before hit me. Like a wave crashing over me, everything in my body felt like it was shutting down, like I couldn't breathe properly, like my legs weren't going to hold me much longer.
I stumbled, my feet slipping on the slick streets. The vibrations of the Slums blurred, my head spun, and it felt like the world was shifting under me. I fought it, tried to keep moving, but the weight of everything—of Eda, of the pain, of what had just happened—was too much.
I slammed into the door of the shack, the force of it throwing me to the floor. I didn't care. I couldn't care. My body ached as I dropped to the cold, wet floor, Eda still in my arms, her weight dragging me down further.
And then, I heard him. My uncle's voice, sharp and panicked. "Samael! What the hell happened?"
I barely registered his words before I felt him kneel beside me, his hands quickly pulling Eda from my arms. His expression twisted in concern as he cradled her burned form, his voice shaking with disbelief. "Who did this? What happened?"
I couldn't answer. I could barely even move. My body felt like it was made of lead, and every breath felt like it took too much effort. My uncle didn't waste any more time talking. His hands moved quickly, trying to assess the damage on Eda, but I couldn't focus on that.
I was still reeling from what had happened. From the fire. From what I had done. And as I lay there, helpless, I could barely even process it. The world spun around me, the rain outside mixing with the chaos in my mind.
Everything went quiet, as I faded into the nothingness...