The glow of the laptop screen painted John's face in flickering blue as he hunched over his desk, fingers drumming against the chipped wood. Episode twelve of *Cultivators of the New Age* played—the one where Li Chen finally unlocked the *Soulfire Technique*, his hands erupting in crimson flames as he faced the Demon Sage.
John's breath hitched.
*"Again,"* he muttered, rewinding the scene. The character's hands moved in that precise pattern—a twist of the wrist, fingers splayed like claws. John mimicked it in the air. Nothing.
His apartment smelled of stale ramen and desperation. Piles of scribbled notes covered every surface—diagrams of energy channels, lists of "spiritual herbs" he'd ordered online, even a half-burned candle with symbols carved into the wax. None of it worked.
But tonight felt different.
He grabbed the tattered journal from his nightstand—the one he'd found at the flea market last week, its pages filled with handwritten symbols that *almost* matched the show. The seller had laughed when John asked about it. *"Just some old cult stuff, kid."*
John traced a finger over the page.
**"Mana Awakening Ritual: Blood and Focus."**
He hesitated. The instructions were clear—a drop of blood, a whispered incantation, and total concentration. *"Probably bullshit,"* he told himself. But his hands were already moving, pricking his thumb with a pocketknife.
The blood smeared dark against the paper.
*"Qi follows intent,"* he whispered, repeating the words from the show. *"The body is the vessel. The mind is the spark."*
At first, nothing.
Then—
A *twitch* in his palm. Like a muscle spasm, but deeper. Under the skin.
John's heart hammered. *"No way."*
He squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on that strange warmth pooling in his chest. When he opened them again, his fingertips were *glowing*. Not the bright, heroic light from the show—this was sickly, pulsing red, like embers in a dying fire.
The glass of water on his desk *trembled*.
John laughed—a sharp, disbelieving sound. *"Holy shit. Holy—"*
His phone buzzed. A text from Jenna:
**"You alive in there? Haven't seen you in days."**
John stared at his hand, the light fading but the heat still there, coiled under his skin. Waiting.
He typed back:
**"Something crazy just happened. Meet me at the docks tonight."**
Then he clenched his fist, watching the red flicker between his fingers.
*This was just the beginning.*