The alley was a nightmare, shadows crawling, the crack's light burning my eyes. My hand throbbed, scars glowing like they were trying to rip free, and that thing—half-beast, half-mirror, all wrong—loomed closer, its claws glinting. I was on my knees, blade shaking in my sweaty grip, feeling like a kid playing at being tough. The voice from the crack roared again, "Pay, Kael, or break," and I swear my bones rattled. I wasn't ready for this—hell, I didn't even know what *this* was. Just some guy who woke up in a grave, stuck with a debt I couldn't pay and a blade I barely knew how to swing.
The symbol on the cobblestone pulsed under my hand, hot and alive, matching the scars. I didn't know why, but it felt like my only shot. "Screw you," I muttered, voice weak but stubborn. I slammed my scarred hand onto the symbol, pain exploding up my arm. The blade screamed, louder than ever, and light burst from the stone—not the crack's sickly glow, but something sharper, cleaner, like a blade cutting through fog. The thing in front of me howled, its mirror-body cracking, shards falling like glass. The shadows flinched, the crack flickered, and that roaring voice cut off mid-word.
I didn't wait to see what happened next. I scrambled up, legs like jelly, and ran, blade dragging, scraping the stones. The alley twisted, longer than it should've been, but the light from the symbol chased me, burning away the shadows. My chest heaved, every breath tasting like blood and ash, but I kept going, half-stumbling, half-falling, until the alley spat me out onto a wider street. The crack's light was gone, the hum silent, the air still.
I collapsed against a wall, sliding down, blade clattering beside me. My hand was a mess, scars red and raw, but the glow was gone. I was alive—barely. My whole body shook, not just from running but from the weight of it all. Those memories, that thing, the voice—they weren't done with me. This was just the start, and I was already out of my depth. I wasn't some chosen one, just a guy who got lucky, or unlucky, depending on how you looked at it.
The city was quiet, stars peeking through the clouds for the first time in forever. I leaned my head back, catching my breath, the cold stone soothing against my skin. My eyes stung, heavy, and I let them close, just for a second. I needed rest, needed to think, but all I could hear was that voice in my head, faint now, whispering, "You're not done." I clutched the blade closer, too tired to care, and let the darkness pull me under, praying nothing was waiting when I woke up.