Raun Veyrath was not born a monster.
At twenty-one, he was quiet, observant, and strangely calm in moments of chaos.
When buildings burned, he moved toward them.
When bridges collapsed, he lifted steel like it weighed nothing.
The night his power awakened, crimson lightning split the sky.
A tower collapsed.
People screamed.
Dark energy surged from his hands—wild but precise.
Beams lifted. Fire bent away. Lives were saved.
News channels named him:
"The Black Guardian."
He never corrected them.
And every time he used his power—
The moon glowed faintly red.