Kate, Enokei, and Amy were walking down the street, laughing and chatting. The sun was setting, casting a golden hue across the city as they made their way home.
Enokei was mid-story, talking animatedly about her latest adventures, while Amy chimed in with her quick-witted remarks. Kate smiled softly, feeling comfortable in their company, but her mind wandered.
She had been thinking about him.
Ray.
The boy who had saved her earlier.
Kate paused for a moment as they reached the corner of their street. "Well, see you guys later," she said with a small wave, her voice distracted.
"Catch you later, Kate!" Enokei called back, already absorbed in another conversation with Amy.
Now alone, Kate walked at a steady pace, her hands tucked into her jacket pockets as she replayed the scene in her mind. Ray had been so composed when he stepped in to stop the guy from attacking her. But there was something about him—something she couldn't quite place.
Her heart raced just thinking about him. He had that look, that raw energy like he wasn't afraid of anything.
But then there was the aura.
It wasn't just a feeling—it was a vision. Kate could see auras, a gift she had learned to live with. And when she looked at Ray, his aura stood out more than anyone else's.
It wasn't just dark—it was almost jet black, radiating off him and pushing the light away. It wasn't just the power he held, either. There was something... unstable about it. Something dangerous. She had felt it when he stood close to her, like a shadow ready to consume.
"Get a grip, Kate," she muttered to herself. He saved you. You owe him. He's a hero...
But she couldn't shake the uneasy feeling. There was more to him than met the eye.
At the gym, Ray was adjusting some weights, sweating after a long workday. The place was quiet, the faint sounds of pads hitting bags and the shuffle of feet against the mat echoing in the distance.
It was the perfect kind of shift: calm, predictable, uneventful. Ray didn't mind it. He liked it that way, especially after everything that had happened recently.
Leaning back against the counter, Ray wiped the sweat from his brow, his gaze lingering on a picture on the wall.
"Thanks to Luke, I even got this gig," Ray muttered, thinking back to how his guardian had practically forced him into the position. Luke wasn't just a mentor—he had been Ray's protector for as long as he could remember. He'd stepped in after Ray's parents disappeared, keeping him from falling into the wrong crowd and pushing him toward a better path.
Suddenly, the stillness was broken.
A loud voice rang out across the gym.
"Hey! Ray! I wanna challenge you!"
Ray turned to see a cocky rookie standing near the ring, arms folded across his chest. He looked eager, his eyes wide with the adrenaline of a challenge.
Ray sighed, feeling the weight of the situation.
"I can't fight on the clock," he said, shaking his head.
But then, he felt a firm, familiar hand land on his shoulder.
"Break a leg," Luke's smooth, confident voice came from behind him.
Luke stood behind Ray dressed in worn army pants and a snug gray T-shirt that barely contained his broad frame, his dark green hair, rough and unkempt, only added to his rugged demeanor.
Ray froze for a moment, eyes widening. Luke was supposed to be out of state on business. He didn't expect to see him here.
"Well, I guess it's not my call, is it?" Ray muttered under his breath, narrowing his eyes at the rookie. He wasn't thrilled about fighting, but Luke had a way of making things... interesting.
The rookie smirked, brimming with cocky confidence. "I just wanna see what you've got. You're that Ray, right? The up-and-comer?"
Ray studied his opponent, weighing his options. But he knew how these things went. It was a test. And if he backed down, it'd be bad for his reputation.
"Fine," Ray said, rolling his shoulders back. "But don't say I didn't warn you."
The match began, and at first, it seemed like Ray and the rookie—Vince—were evenly matched. Vince was quick on his feet, his punches sharp. But Ray was more controlled, his movements precise.
"This is gonna be a good fight," Ray thought as he dodged a wild punch and landed a couple of solid jabs.
But then, out of nowhere, something changed.
Vince's bracelet started beeping—a small, irritating sound that filled the air. Then, as if it had triggered something deep inside him, Vince surged forward with an almost inhuman intensity.
Ray's eyes widened.
"What the hell?" he thought, his heart pounding.
Vince's attacks became relentless, each punch faster than the last. Ray was knocked off balance, his body slamming against the ropes. Each hit felt like it came from a freight train.
Luke stood there, arms crossed, watching silently.
Coworkers began to move toward the ring, but Luke held up a hand, stopping them.
"This is his fight," Luke said, his voice calm but steely.
Vince's Keeper smirked at Luke's reaction. The man who had arrived with Vince was known only as R. He wore a jet-black suit that looked tailored in hell itself — the kind that whispered wealth and power most couldn't dream of affording. His demeanor was ice-cold, unnervingly calm, like someone who'd seen too much and cared too little. His face was a mask — unreadable, untouched by emotion — save for the ever-present grin that stretched just a little too wide. His long blond hair flowed like silk, but his eyes... they never opened. And somehow, that made him even harder to look away from.
Ray barely kept his feet under him as the onslaught continued. Blood dripped from his lip as his body absorbed blow after blow.
Flat on the mat, struggling to rise, Ray wiped the blood from his mouth with a grin.
"All I wanted was a peaceful day," he thought, staring at the ceiling. "Just one day where I don't get beaten half to death."
He exhaled, his grin widening. "Looks like today's not that day."
Between rounds, Luke pulled Ray to the corner and dumped a bottle of water over his head. The cold shock made Ray jolt, blinking the sweat and blood from his eyes.
"You're thinking too much," Luke said evenly. "Stay loose. Let him come to you, then—"
"Shut up, old man," Ray cut him off, slicking his hair back with his bruised hands. He smirked, rolling his shoulders as he stepped forward.
Luke sighed, arms crossing again. "Cocky little punk."
The bell rang for round two.
Vince charged forward, fists swinging like hammers. But Ray wasn't intimidated. He had seen these moves before. Vince's style was reckless, leaving him wide open.
Ray dodged, sidestepping with a fluid motion, and swept Vince's legs out from under him. Before Vince could recover, Ray landed a brutal right hook.
The punch snapped Vince's head to the side. But he shook it off, gritting his teeth, pressing forward with renewed aggression.
Ray stayed calm. He was waiting. Patience was key.
Finally, the opening came.
Vince swung wide with a left hook, leaving his body exposed. Ray didn't go for the face. Instead, he drove his fist into Vince's side—a crushing liver shot.
Vince staggered back, pain flashing across his face. But he wasn't down yet.
Ray narrowed his eyes. He needed to finish this.
With a sudden burst of energy, he leaped, spinning mid-motion. His foot collided with Vince's head in a devastating kick.
The impact was brutal.
Vince crumpled to the mat, unconscious.
Ray landed hard, staggering before collapsing. His body was drained, his muscles screaming. But it was over.
Then, he heard it.
The beeping.
Vince's bracelet flickered red.
Vince smirked, his voice dripping with venom.
Slowly, Vince stirred. His eyes snapped open, burning with the same cold fury as before. There was no sign of defeat in them, no remorse, no hesitation. Just pure, unfiltered rage. Vince pushed himself up from the mat, his body still trembling from the impact, but his spirit unyielding.
Ray barely had the strength to sit up, his body betraying him. But he didn't have a choice—Vince was rising again, more dangerous than ever. Vince's lips curled into a sinister smile, and his voice was low, dripping with venom.
"You think you've won, don't you?" Vince spat, his voice cold and cruel. "You think one hit is enough to stop me? I will destroy you, just like I've destroyed everyone else who thought they could beat me. No one will stand in my way. Not you. Not anyone."
Vince's gift allows his power and speed to grow exponentially depending on how angry he is, a fitting gift for someone like him.
Vince doesn't fight for any but his selfish desires. People are tools to be used, and pain and suffering are his game.
With a sudden burst of energy, Vince lunged forward, his hands crackling with a malevolent force. Ray braced himself, but before Vince could land another blow, there was a sudden movement at his side. Luke. Stepped in, calm and controlled as ever, grabbing Vince's arm before he could make another move.
"You've had enough," Luke said, his voice cold but steady.
Without hesitation, Luke delivered a punch to Vince's stomach, a sharp, quick blow that landed with a sickening thud. Vince's eyes widened as the air was knocked out of him, and he crumpled to the floor, unconscious, before he hit the mat.
Vince's anger and pain were palpable. Raised in neglect and betrayal, he had learned early that survival meant dominating any opponent. His uncontrolled power, amplified by the government's experimental program—and that very bracelet—made him unpredictable and dangerous. The beeping wasn't just a warning; it was a surge, a test of pushing his limits. Vince thought as he drifted off into unconsciousness, "Ray, to him, is nothing more than another obstacle to overcome. There is no remorse, no reflection—just a burning, endless rage. Vince is pure evil, a man who will stop at nothing to reshape the world to suit his needs, leaving chaos in his wake. No one can reason with him—only confront him."
Luke stood over Vince's motionless body, his gaze sweeping the now-silent gym. The air was thick with tension, the weight of the moment pressing down on everyone.
The stillness shattered as Vince's Keeper, R, stepped into the ring, a smirk curling at their lips. "Calling it early, huh?" they mocked, their voice dripping with condescension.
Luke's expression hardened. "Keep your commentary to yourself."
R shrugged nonchalantly. "I was just enjoying the show."
Luke had heard enough. His expression hardened, his icy glare locking onto R. R.'s eyes opened for the first time, revealing an intense glare. For a moment, neither moved, the unspoken challenge hanging between them. Then, with a scoff, R broke eye contact and crouched down, grabbing Vince by the arm. With a grunt, they hauled him up, slinging one of his arms over their shoulder.
"Come on," R muttered, dragging Vince toward the ropes. They spared Luke one last glance before stepping out of the ring and disappearing into the crowd that had formed.
With them gone, Luke finally turned to Ray, who was still sprawled on the mat, his breaths slow and heavy. He knelt beside him. "You okay?"
Ray wiped the blood from his mouth and flashed a tired grin. "Yeah... I'm fine," he muttered, voice tinged with exhaustion. He chuckled despite the pain. "But I don't think I'll be getting up anytime soon."
Luke let out a quiet, knowing laugh. "You never make things easy, do you?"
Ray smirked, his eyes fluttering closed. "That's the way I like it."
Later That Night
Ray laid back against the bench, his muscles sore and his body aching from the fight. His head rested against the cool, concrete wall of the gym's medical room, where his coworker, Maya, was carefully wrapping his hand in gauze.
Maya was a breath of fresh air in the gym. Her cheerful, easy-going personality made her well-liked by everyone, and it was hard not to smile when she was around. But Ray knew she wasn't all fun and games. Behind her warm demeanor was a sharp mind, a fighter in her own right, and someone who knew exactly how dangerous the world they were living in could be.
"Man, you know how to get yourself beat up, huh?" Maya said, her voice light, though there was a hint of concern in her eyes. She finished bandaging his hand, then looked him over.
Ray gave a tired chuckle, rolling his shoulder to try and stretch out the stiffness. "You could say I'm a pro at it."
Maya shook her head, her dark brown hair bouncing as she leaned back, crossing her arms. "Seriously, though, you're lucky Luke showed up when he did. You can't keep doing this, Ray. The more you get involved with gifted users, the more dangerous things get. You can't predict their power, and you can't always take the hits."
Ray raised an eyebrow, looking at her curiously. "You know a lot about it."
She hesitated for a second before pulling up a chair next to him and sitting down. "I grew up around that stuff. My brother was one of them—the gifted ones." Her voice softened, and there was a somber look in her eyes. "He was... a hothead. Always getting into trouble and picking fights. And because of his power, people were afraid of him. Some would provoke him on purpose, testing his limits. One night, he didn't come home. Found out later he'd gotten into it with some random guy. No matter the opponent, no matter the fight, he always came back home, but this time... he didn't. He was reckless, stubborn, and foul-mouthed, but most important of all, he was my brother.
Tears began to form as she said, " After that, I decided to get away from all that. But it follows you, you know?"
Ray could feel the weight of her words. He had seen that kind of fear and recklessness first-hand, especially with gifted users like Vince. People with power didn't always know how to control it, and things could spiral fast.
Maya sighed, her expression softening as she glanced at him. "I hate seeing you get hurt like this, Ray. You've got so much potential, and I don't want to see you wrecked before you get a chance to show what you can do."
Ray was silent for a moment, taking in her words. Finally, he gave her a small, appreciative smile. "Thanks, Maya, but with you by my side, I have nothing to worry about."
She returned his smile, her eyes glinting with humor. "Always. Just... try not to take on the whole world at once, okay?"
Ray let out a low laugh. "I'll try."
Maya finished bandaging his wounds, and Ray stepped out into the cool darkness on his way home. The gym's bustle was a distant memory now, replaced by the quiet hum of the city at night. He moved with a calm determination—his body still sore, but his mind sharper than ever.
On his way home, a raccoon started following him. He smirked and hid, scaring it when it lost track of him. The raccoon jumped, landing in his arms.
"It's not nice to stalk people, ya know?" Ray grinned.
The raccoon licked his face.
"Yeah, yeah, likely story."
Slowly, a figure emerged from the shadows. It was Vince—no apologies or cautious dialogue this time, just a swift, unspoken challenge. The air between them charged in an instant.
Before Ray could fully register Vince's intent, the rookie charged. But Ray was ready. Countless encounters with gifted users had honed his instincts to near perfection. He knew Vince's style well—reckless and predictable, like a slugger in boxing. Luke's earlier attack had also revealed Vince's one true weakness, his midsection.
Ray sidestepped the incoming attack, feeling the rush of air pass him by. His body moved with fluid precision, honed by years of experience. The punch aimed at him was wild, desperate. And it was exactly what Ray had anticipated.
In a heartbeat, Ray struck back. A brutal, calculated blow to Vince's midsection forced the rookie to stagger back, gasping for breath. Ray could see the shock in his eyes, but it was no time for mercy.
Vince roared and swung again, but Ray didn't flinch. He ducked under the wild haymaker, his hands already moving before Vince's next attack even reached the air.
"Too slow," Ray muttered, the words barely leaving his lips before his fists collided with Vince's ribs—each strike landing with the sharp precision of a practiced killer.
Ray thought to himself as he skillfully avoided Vince's attacks, "He only has one problem, his body is a glass canon, it doesn't matter how much power you have if all it takes is a few well-timed hits to knock you down."
Ray had no hesitation now. He wasn't just winning. He was punishing.
With every blow, the fight twisted from a mere duel into something darker—something cruel. Ray's movements weren't fluid anymore; they were sharp and calculated, as if he were dismantling Vince piece by piece. The feeling of control, of power, surged through him, and Ray reveled in it.
Vince's breath left him in a rush, his eyes widening in surprise as he stumbled back, completely winded.
Vince's anger only fueled the fight. His attacks became more desperate, but every time he tried to strike, Ray was already a step ahead. The rookie was fighting with everything he had, but it was clear to Ray now—Vince was out of his league.
Ray's eyes narrowed, feeling the thrill of dominance creep over him. It was more than just a fight now; it was a lesson.
"Still haven't recovered, huh?" Ray muttered under his breath, watching Vince's expression falter. His body was shaking, but it wasn't just from the blow. It was like the fight had already taken everything out of him. He wasn't the same rookie who charged at him earlier—this was a man who had underestimated the cost of his anger.
"You should've stayed down," Ray whispered, moving behind him in a blur.
"Did you think you could win?" Ray sneered, dodging another blow and landing a crushing punch to Vince's jaw. The rookie's knees buckled, but he fought to stay on his feet.
Ray's next move was fluid and smooth. Vince, caught off guard, staggered. As he attempted to throw another punch, Ray anticipated the move perfectly. With a quick feint and a low pivot, Ray swept his leg behind Vince's, knocking him off balance. In less than a heartbeat, Ray launched a sharp roundhouse kick aimed at Vince's temple. The blow landed solidly, and Vince crumpled to the pavement—an abrupt end to what might have been a drawn-out brawl.
Vince's body was already showing the toll, but Ray wasn't done.
Then, in one brutal movement, Ray snapped Vince's left arm, the sickening crack filling the silence between them. Vince's scream echoed in the empty street.
Ray's gaze bore into Vince's defeated form, his expression a mixture of disdain and indifference.
Ray continued unloading more and more punches onto the almost lifeless body of Vince.
As he's doing this, Vince thinks to himself, "Stop....PLEASE STOP. I don't want to....please...." He thought as Ray continued with another barrage of punches.
The words hung heavy in the air as Vince lay there helpless, the last remnants of his pride shattered along with his limbs.
Vince's Keeper steps out of the shadows, applauding the performance.
Ray looked at him in disgust. "You could have stopped it whenever you wanted. You're terrible, maybe even worse than Vince."
R laughs
"I was enjoying the show."
Ray glared. "While you're here, I have some questions for you."
R smiled a devilish grin. "Ask away."
"What's with the beeping red bracelet? Last time I checked, those bracelets were used to contain gifted users. Why did it seem like it was powering him up?" Ray asked
"Oh, you noticed? How very perceptive of you," R sneered. Normally, I wouldn't bother explaining myself to someone like you, but after that little show of strength, I'll indulge you. Vince is part of a special government program designed to push his abilities beyond their limits—truly fascinating stuff. Vincy Boy's come a long way, but he's still a work in progress. Today? Consider it a test run.
That beep you heard? That was him exceeding his physical threshold. A necessary step in progress. Unfortunately, it comes at a price; in the last 4 hours alone, he's lost over 5% of his muscle mass. It would've been a hell of a lot more entertaining if Luke hadn't stepped in like a self-righteous idiot. But hey, at least I didn't have to get my hands dirty. Can't say the same for you, though—you look like you've been through a garbage disposal. Fitting."
Before Ray could respond, in a flash,
R blurred, then vanished—no sound, no warning, just gone.
Ray tensed, eyes scanning—
Thump.
Behind him, R stood calmly, Vince slung over his shoulder like a dead weight.
"You're looking in the wrong places, Ray."
R's voice was almost a whisper, but it cut through the silence like a blade. "Always have been."
Then he was gone, slipping into the dark like a breath exhaled.
Shaking his head in disbelief, Ray muttered, "Figures." He turned away, leaving with aching muscles and more questions than answers.
At home, he got a text from Norman about a party.
"Not happening. My house is off-limits. No questions."
Norman replied, "It's 5-1. You don't have a choice."
Ray scowled. "It's my house."
"Aww, but think about how hurt everyone's gonna be."
Ray tossed his phone aside. He fed his raccoon, then sat at his desk, pulling out the photo of Kate, comparing it to an old one of his mother's, a chill ran down his spine.
I can't tell you two apart. He stared at the images, unsettled, before exhaustion finally pulled him under.