After his intense fight against Eddy, Nathaniel remained in a daze, his body still recovering from the immense exertion. He had fallen asleep almost immediately, but even in slumber, he could not escape the echoes of his own power. He dreamt, yet it was not a normal dream—it felt like a vision, one that reached deep into the core of his being, brushing against memories and feelings he did not know he possessed.
He found himself lying on soft, damp grass by a gently flowing river. The water shimmered under the early morning sunlight, reflecting the colors of the sky, while small ripples formed where the current brushed against the riverbank. The air was crisp and clean, carrying the faint scent of earth and wildflowers. Nathaniel felt the warmth of the sun on his skin, mingling with the slight chill of a gentle breeze, a sensation that made him shiver with both comfort and unease. Despite the beauty surrounding him, an unexplainable melancholy weighed on his chest.
He remembered his mother—her gentle voice, her hands holding him as she had entrusted him to Eddy. The memory was painfully vivid, yet strangely incomplete. The corners of her face seemed blurred, her eyes shimmering but not fully visible. Everything else seemed erased, as though a seal had been placed over his earliest memories. Only this one moment remained, etched into the very fabric of his soul.
Suddenly, a voice broke the calm—a dark, chilling presence that reverberated through his mind. Its tone was heavy, ominous, capable of instilling despair with every syllable.
"Little man… little god… little demon… little monster… None of these definitions suit you. You misunderstand yourself. I can read your existence like a book. I see your story: who you were, who you are… and perhaps, who you will be. But even we, the Ancestors, cannot fully perceive your future. Who are you? That is the question… even we wonder."
Nathaniel shivered. The voice was simultaneously terrifying and hypnotic, resonating deep within his soul, stirring feelings he could neither explain nor control. "Who are you? Who is there? Show yourself!" he demanded, his voice quivering between fear and determination.
"I am you," the voice replied, echoing like multiple whispers layered together. "I have always been with you, and I will always be. You called upon me during your fight with Eddy, whether you knew it or not…"
Nathaniel frowned, confused. "Called upon me? I don't remember… I only recall that black rage, the sword, and the power surging through me. I threw the sword with all my might…"
"Exactly," the voice continued, "even without knowing it, you summoned me. I intervened because the rage within you was so intense I could not ignore it. I… I wanted to kill him."
Nathaniel froze, his heart hammering. "Kill him?! No! I forbid you…"
"You are too weak to forbid anything now," the voice replied smoothly, like a river of darkness flowing into his mind. "I could even kill you, though it would harm me. Kill you? It's not that simple. Had it been, I would have ended you the day you were born."
The voice faded, leaving Nathaniel in silence. For a long moment, all he could hear was the whispering of the wind, the gentle flow of the river, and the faint rustle of unseen animals in the grass. "What?! Can you be clearer?" he shouted, but the only response was the whispering wind in his dream, cold yet strangely comforting.
With a start, Nathaniel awoke, gasping for air. "Eddyyy!!!" he cried, his small body trembling.
Eddy appeared instantly, concern etched on his face. "Calm down, I'm here. Nightmare?"
Nathaniel rubbed his eyes, still shaking. "I… I'm sorry for hurting you…"
Eddy waved dismissively. "It's nothing," he said with a smile. "If it helps, you didn't even scratch me. You're fine." Relief washed over Nathaniel as he exhaled, tension leaving his body like a receding wave.
Eddy stood, preparing to leave. "I have work today, so I won't be here all day. I think you're strong enough now—at least from what I've seen, you can manage yourself outside. I want you to go out, take a walk around the block… and yes, I want you to catch us some fish. Think you can manage that?"
Nathaniel's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Yes! I can! It's not that hard." His mind raced, imagining the river, the fish, and the thrill of moving through the world beyond the bunker walls.
"Good," Eddy said with a nod. "Lunch is ready on the table. I'll see you later." With that, he grabbed his bag and left, leaving Nathaniel staring after him, curiosity and anticipation mixed on his face.
For Nathaniel, this was uncharted territory. Since Eddy had taken him in, he had never ventured outside. The outside world was a dangerous place, ruled by the law of the strongest, where the weak were oppressed and eliminated without mercy. Now, for the first time, he could feel the thrill of freedom mingled with a cautious respect for the dangers that awaited.
Equipped with a simple map of the city and a small toolkit Eddy had given him, Nathaniel relied on his senses to navigate. He could sense areas of moisture, deduce the likely presence of water—and therefore, the possibility of fish. He studied the terrain carefully, noting the position of trees, shadows, and subtle shifts in the wind that hinted at hidden currents. The sound of distant footsteps and the murmur of the river guided him as much as the map itself.
With a confident step, Nathaniel pushed open the door and stepped into the bright light of the outside world. The warmth of the sun bathed him, birds chirped melodiously in the distance, and the faint scent of the river carried on the breeze. Every detail seemed amplified: the way the leaves glimmered, the shimmer of water reflecting sunlight, even the soft buzz of insects. He felt alive, his senses heightened by anticipation, by the challenge of this first task.
He sprinted toward the nearest water source, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat and the flow of energy in his body. Each stride carried him closer to his goal, the distant splash of water calling him forward. He observed the fish darting beneath the surface, noting their movements and patterns with careful attention. The water was clearer than he had imagined, sunlight illuminating scales like liquid silver as the creatures twisted and turned.
Carefully, he drew upon his growing powers—not for destruction this time, but for precision. A concentrated surge of energy directed at the water created a ripple, guiding the fish toward his awaiting net. He adjusted the flow subtly, nudging the fish with gentle pulses, imagining himself as both predator and guardian. The exercise felt like a delicate dance, requiring patience, focus, and harmony with the world around him.
Nathaniel crouched by the riverbank, his heart pounding with exhilaration as he successfully captured the first fish. The thrill of achievement, small yet significant, filled him with pride. He smiled, a mixture of childish joy and the growing confidence of a warrior who was learning to control not just his powers, but his destiny.
The world outside, vast and unpredictable, had extended its hand. Nathaniel was ready to grasp it. With each small victory, each step into the unknown, he inched closer to understanding himself, his potential, and the extraordinary life that awaited him. The river, the breeze, and the rustling leaves were no longer just scenery—they were companions in his journey, witnesses to his awakening, and subtle teachers in the art of observation, control, and patience.
As the sun climbed higher, casting golden beams across the landscape, Nathaniel felt a connection to the larger world he had never known. The wind seemed to whisper encouragement, the water sparkled with possibilities, and every living creature he passed reminded him that life was full of lessons waiting to be learned. He inhaled deeply, savoring the mingling scents of earth and water, and felt a surge of energy—less raw and destructive than before, but steady, controlled, and alive.
This first day outside was not only a test of skill but also a rite of passage. Nathaniel realized that every step, every choice, and every exertion of his power carried consequences. The outside world was no longer a distant idea—it was real, tangible, and full of lessons he was eager to learn.
By the time he returned home, net filled with small, wriggling fish, Nathaniel's heart was light. He had proven to himself that he could survive beyond the bunker, that he could interact with the world, and that he could harness his energy in ways that were purposeful, precise, and controlled.