The night was restless, the city's hum carrying whispers of danger beneath its neon glow. Kael Varn and his friend Taryn stepped out of the canteen, the warmth of dinner fading as the cold streets swallowed them. Neon sigils pulsed faintly in the distance, their light bending against the drifting snow, while the low thrum of vehicles passing echoed from the lower districts.
Taryn shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, breath curling in the cold as his eyes gleamed like a kid recounting a legend. "You missed a hell of a show in District Seven today. —one of those beasts crawled out right in middle of market. Ugly thing, all claws and teeth, dripping miasma like it was death itself." He leaned closer, voice dropping into an excited whisper as though afraid the memory itself might hear him. "Then the Scarlet Hunt Covenant arrived. Slayers cutting through its hide like fire through paper, Binders chaining down its legs with glowing sigils… the whole street was chaos—" He shook his head, a crooked grin spreading. "You couldn't look away. It was terrifying… and beautiful."
Kael let the words hang in the air for a moment, the echo of them almost louder than the city's noise. He gave Taryn a sideways glance, brow arched. "A show, huh? You make it sound like entertainment."
"Not entertainment," Taryn corrected with a shrug. "More like… a reminder. Those things are walking disaster, Kael. And the way the Scarlet Hunt handled it—you couldn't look away." His grin carried more awe than humor, the kind of envy born from watching power up close but knowing it was far out of reach.
They walked on, the city sprawling around them—looming dorm towers, Veil conduits flickering overhead, and in the distance, District 7 still glowing faintly red against the skyline. Eventually, Taryn clapped Kael on the shoulder.
"Anyway, I've got some odd jobs waiting before lights out. You heading straight back?"
"Yeah," Kael said quietly. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Taryn turned down the narrow street, his silhouette fading away in the darkness. Kael stood for a moment longer, watching his friend disappear, before pulling his coat tighter against the cold and starting toward the dorms.
The room was quiet, his roommates out scavenging for odd jobs or buried in their own tasks. Kael closed his eyes, willing sleep to come, but the city's hum invaded his mind—distant sirens, the low rumble of hover-trams, the occasional crack of Veil energy from some distant skirmish. Then, something shifted. A chill slithered across his skin, raising the hairs on his arms. His eyes snapped open.
There, on the wall opposite his bed, where a faded poster of some forgotten hero should have been, hung a mirror. It hadn't been there before. Silver-framed, ornate, its surface gleamed unnaturally in the dim light, reflecting the room with eerie clarity. Kael sat up slowly, heart pounding. What the hell? He glanced around—no one else in the room. The mirror's reflection stared back at him: his own face, gaunt and shadowed, eyes wide with confusion. But then, the reflection... smiled. A slow, knowing curl of the lips that Kael wasn't making.
His breath caught. "This isn't real," he muttered, rubbing his eyes. But when he looked again, the reflection's smile widened, and it leaned forward, as if pressing against the glass from the inside. A whisper slithered into the room, soft and insidious: "Your thread has been chosen. Wake up."
Panic surged through Kael like ice water. He scrambled back, his back hitting the wall. The mirror's surface rippled, and before he could scream, the glass shattered with a deafening crack. Shards exploded outward, razor-sharp fragments hurtling toward him. Pain erupted in his chest as they embedded deep, slicing through fabric and flesh. He gasped, clutching at the wounds, blood welling between his fingers. But this wasn't just physical agony—something deeper tore into him, a burning inscription carving into his very soul. The Veil Sigil. It pulsed, awakening forces he had only read about in textbooks, but twisted, unstable, like a flame flickering in a storm.
The room spun, his vision blurring with the onslaught. What's happening? Make it stop! His thoughts screamed as the Sigil etched itself, threads of energy weaving through his being. But before it could complete, the world outside exploded into chaos.
A thunderous roar shook the building, rattling the windows and sending dust cascading from the ceiling. Kael staggered to his feet, shards still embedded in his chest, blood dripping onto the floor. Through the grimy window, he saw it: a Cursed Abomination rampaging through the streets below. The monster was a nightmare made flesh—a hulking mass of twisted limbs and jagged spikes, its skin a mottled patchwork of corrupted flesh that oozed miasma. Towering over the hover-cars it crushed underfoot, its multiple eyes glowed with feral hunger, and its maw split open in a bellow that shattered nearby glass.
Screams echoed from the streets as people fled in terror. The Abomination swung a massive arm, slamming into a market stall and sending debris flying. A vendor crumpled under the impact, his body twisted unnaturally. Kael's heart hammered—Not now, not here!—but he couldn't tear his eyes away. Then, figures descended from the rooftops: operatives from a secret Awakened Organization, their Sigils flaring with power. A Slayer-type warrior charged forward, his body a blur of enhanced speed, slashing at the beast with ethereal blades that drew black ichor. A Binder operative hurled chains of light, wrapping around the Abomination's legs, trying to topple it.
The monster roared, shattering the chains with a surge of cursed energy. It lashed out, its spiked tail whipping through the air and smashing into a nearby building—the dorm's adjacent wing. The impact sent shockwaves rippling through Kael's room, cracking walls and flinging him against the bunk. But the real devastation came next: a massive blast of miasmic energy erupted from the Abomination, a wave of dark force that tore through the street like a tidal wave.
Kael dove for cover, but it was too late. The shockwave slammed into the dorm, ripping through the wall in a hail of rubble. Debris impaled him—a jagged beam piercing his shoulder, twisting as he fell. Agony exploded anew, his chest wound tearing wider, the half-formed Sigil exposed to the miasma. Cursed energy flooded in, corrupting the engraving mid-process. Threads of the Sigil frayed, splintering like broken glass, sending jolts of fire through his veins. No... this can't... His thoughts fragmented, pain overwhelming everything. The Sigil bled energy, a constant leak that sapped his strength, each pulse shaving away fragments of his life force. His body convulsed, the fracture turning what should have been a gift into a curse.
Outside, the battle raged on. The Slayer operative leaped onto the Abomination's back, driving his blades deep, but the beast bucked wildly, flinging him into a wall with bone-crushing force. The Binder reformed her chains, thicker this time, coiling around the monster's throat. "Hold it down!" she shouted to a Channeler ally, who unleashed a torrent of Veil energy, scorching the beast's hide. The Abomination thrashed, its claws raking through the air, gouging deep furrows in the pavement. A stray blast from its maw vaporized a fleeing civilian, the scream cut short in a flash of dark light.
Kael lay amid the ruins of his room, blood pooling beneath him, his vision tunneling. The Sigil's fracture burned, granting glimpses of fragmentary powers—fleeting bursts of strength that seared his muscles, visions of chains flickering in his mind's eye. But each use hurt, a toll on his already waning life. Why me? The thought echoed in the haze. Through the haze, he heard the operatives closing in. The Abomination let out a final, earth-shaking roar before collapsing, its mutated corpse slamming down meters from the dorm, shaking the ground once more.
Footsteps approached. Organization operatives landed nearby, their boots crunching on debris. A junior operative, voice trembling, knelt by the corpse. "Senior… how does someone even turn into… that?"
The senior, a grizzled Binder with scars etched across his face, replied grimly, "It's the work of that terror group again. They experiment on Sigils, trying to fuse multiple threads. Most subjects end up fractured… then they mutate. They call them… Abominations."