I have always believed that ordinary life is a prison, an endless loop of meaningless motions and hollow smiles. My name is Souta Shoyo, a sixteen-year-old boy living in the city of Kyoto, where history and modernity collide, but the past often whispers to those who know how to listen. I have always listened. I have always observed. People are predictable; human emotion, a set of algorithms disguised as chaos. That's what I thought until today.
Today is the day I finally saw the truth: the world is cursed. I didn't know it yet, but I was about to unlock a power that would allow me to bend that cursed reality to my will.
It started with a note, unlike any I had ever seen before. It wasn't ordinary paper; it shimmered faintly under the dim streetlights, almost as if it breathed. The words on it were not written, they were engraved deep into the fibres, glowing faintly red. "Souta Shoyo, you are chosen. Embrace the Fervor Sigil, or remain a pawn in a world you do not command."
I held it in my hands, feeling a vibration, subtle but insistent, as though the city itself were acknowledging my existence. A laugh escaped me not of amusement, but of anticipation. Damn i had always craved power, control, and the ability to see the hidden threads of fate and manipulate them. And now, the universe was giving me a key.
The first sign of change came the moment I traced the crimson symbol that appeared beneath the words. It burned against my skin not in pain, but in recognition. Knowledge poured into my mind, memories that weren't mine yet felt intimately familiar: centuries of manipulation, strategy, secrets that had been buried under the weight of time. I understood things I had never learned: how the world ticks, how humans can be swayed without them realizing, how life and death are merely pieces on a chessboard.
My pulse quickened. This is what I was meant for.
The streets of Kyoto were quiet that evening. Neon signs flickered against the drizzle, painting the wet asphalt in reds and blues. Yet every shadow seemed alive, every passer-by a potential pawn, every glance hiding a secret. I walked slowly, deliberately, noting the subtle cues the hesitation in a man's step, the nervous flick of a woman's eyes, the way a child clutched his mother's hand like a lifeline. Everything could be turned to advantage. Everything was malleable.
A scream shattered the night. It came from an alley nearby, sharp and desperate. I could have ignored it. Most people would have. But instinct no, curiosity compelled me forward. That is the first lesson of power: understanding opportunity, even in chaos.
The alley was narrow, dark, and smelled of rot. A figure struggled against something unseen. I observed. Carefully. Every movement, every sound, every inhale and exhale was a data point. My mind raced. My eyes, I realized, had changed. The Fervor Sigil had awakened something inside me a lens that allowed me to see beyond the physical. A faint red aura surrounded the attacker, shifting erratically, unstable, weak. Fear, desire, malice they all clung to it like smoke.
I stepped forward.
"Stop," I said softly, almost a whisper, yet the word carried weight beyond its volume. The creature froze.
It was a man, I noticed then, but not entirely. His skin seemed stretched, unnatural, and his eyes glimmered like coals, hungry and alive. He lunged toward me, and I didn't flinch. I smiled.
"Predictable," I murmured, reading his movements as if they were written on a page. I sidestepped and tripped him with a subtle shift of my foot. He crashed into the wall, splintering wood and cursing in a language that didn't make sense.
"You… you're not human," he hissed, trying to rise.
"I am what this world needs," I replied, and I meant it. Because I wasn't human not anymore. Not fully.
The Sigil burned brighter on my palm, and with a simple gesture, I manipulated his perception. In a blink, he saw me ten steps away, then five, then right beside him. Panic clawed at his mind as he realized he could not trust his senses. His aura fractured, and I reached into it, twisting it, pulling threads of fear and confusion until he crumpled, powerless.
It took less than a minute. Time itself seemed slower, more deliberate, as if the world bent around me. And I understood, in that moment, that manipulation is more than control; it is art. It is science. It is the ultimate expression of intellect and will.
I left the alley with the note still in my hand, now warm against my palm. Kyoto's neon lights flickered around me, reflecting in my eyes. People passed, unaware. I walked among them as a ghost, but I was more alive than ever. Every step, every glance, every whisper of the wind could be a tool. I could bend reality, subtly, imperceptibly, and the world would never notice.
Back in my small apartment, I traced the Sigil again, watching as it glowed brighter. A library of knowledge opened in my mind, not just about manipulation, but about the supernatural currents that flow through our world. Spirits, curses, energies that feed on desire and fear now I could see them, understand them, and shape them.
I spent hours studying, my mind racing ahead of my body. Names, events, possibilities threads of fate that I could grasp, pull, and twist to my liking. I realized the truth: power is meaningless if unclaimed. Knowledge is useless if unexploited. And I… I was both cunning and ruthless enough to seize it.
I thought of my classmates at school. Simple-minded, predictable, their lives governed by trivialities. Yet, if I wished, I could manipulate them; control their choices, plant ideas that would blossom in their minds without them suspecting. And why not? In a cursed world, only those who understand the rules deserve to survive, let alone thrive.
The Sigil pulsed. My eyes reflected its crimson light as I whispered a single phrase, almost to myself: "Let the world see what manipulation truly means."
A thought struck me then a darker, more ambitious plan forming like a storm behind my calm exterior. If the world is a game, then I am both player and referee. I can orchestrate events, guide outcomes, and if necessary… destroy obstacles without leaving a trace.
But power comes with consequence, and I have always been aware of that. The Fervor Sigil is not a toy; it is a bond, a pact with forces older and more cunning than I can imagine. I would have to be careful. I would have to think ten moves ahead. But I can do that. I have always been able to. Observation, deduction, patience these are my weapons. My intellect is my battlefield.
And soon, the world would learn a new name. Soon, the whispers in the dark would speak of me, not as a boy, but as a force. A manipulator, a strategist, a shadow in every corner. My enemies would never see me coming, yet they would know the consequences of crossing me.
I sat by the window, watching the city lights flicker and sway. Rain began to patter against the glass, soft and insistent, like a drumbeat calling attention to the unfolding storm within me. A smile crept across my face. This is only the beginning.
The cursed world had revealed itself to me. The Fervor Sigil had awakened. And Souta Shoyo observer, strategist, manipulator would never be ordinary again.
Because in a world ruled by chaos and fear, only the one who controls perception, influence, and thought will survive.
And I intend to survive… and dominate.