Nathaniel sprinted through the bustling streets of the city center, his red sneakers a streak of color as the wind whipped through his hair. Every step was precise, honed by years of training, yet his mind was entirely occupied with Thorn's guidance, analyzing strategies, potential hazards, and the immense power of the pearl. Oblivious to the shadows lurking around him, he moved as if the city were empty, guided only by the invisible thread connecting him to Thorn's consciousness.
Unbeknownst to him, danger slithered like a predator along the rooftops, alleyways, and behind stacks of crates. A group of thieves, masters of concealment, had already positioned themselves strategically. Years of rigorous training had taught them to suppress their aura, their presence, even their scent, effectively erasing themselves from reality—or at least making it nearly impossible to detect them by ordinary means.
Their leader, a tall, muscular man with a long scar across his cheek, signaled quietly to his subordinates. "Do you see him?" he whispered, voice low and controlled, betraying only a flicker of curiosity.
One younger thug peered nervously from behind a crate. "Is he… insane? He's just talking to himself…"
"Or talking to ghosts," another muttered, glancing anxiously at his companions. "Spirits… or something beyond our plane…"
The scar-faced leader shook his head. "No. That's not a ghost. It's something else… different. He communicates with something that doesn't exist in our reality. Subtle, yet I feel it. Be careful."
At that moment, the pearl materialized in Nathaniel's hand, glowing with an intense radiance, refracting sunlight into blinding sparks. For the thieves, it was a revelation; their eyes widened in disbelief.
"That's it! That's Yogin's pearl!" one of them gasped, greed overtaking caution. "Millions of Zenkai, maybe more!"
Their imaginations ran wild. Each thief envisioned vast fortunes, unimaginable luxuries, or desires fulfilled. One imagined a villa on a distant planet; another saw themselves marrying their long-lost love; yet another pictured opening a nightclub for the city's elite. Desire and obsession fueled their next moves.
The leader, Baron, however, was singular in focus. He gritted his teeth, eyes burning with obsession, imagining the girl he could never have. "With this," he whispered, voice trembling with determination, "she won't escape me. Not this time. Destiny will bend to my will." His hands clenched tightly as the pearl shimmered before him, the key to his fixation.
"Retrieve that pearl immediately!" he barked, voice cutting through the shadows. "Do not waste a second! Move!"
In perfect unison, the thieves emerged from their hiding places, moving with lightning speed, faster than the eye could track. Nathaniel, engrossed in Thorn's instructions, didn't notice the sudden appearance until the bag's consciousness sounded an alert.
~ Alert ~
~ Source: Surroundings ~
~ Type: Human ~
~ Number: Dozens ~
~ Goal: Steal the pearl ~
His eyes widened, snapping him out of his focus. "What… what?!" he exclaimed, heart hammering. Before he could fully react, Baron unleashed a blazing fire elemental strike. The force collided with Nathaniel head-on, sending him crashing into a tree. The bark splintered, the impact reverberating through his bones. Instinctively, he dropped the pearl as a burst of energy radiated outward.
Baron approached the fallen child, examining him carefully. "Damn," he muttered, eyes narrowing. "That fire should have destroyed him, atom by atom. Yet… he merely bounced back. Incredible…"
He crouched, picking up the pearl with a triumphant grin. "No matter," he said calmly. "This is enough." With a gesture, his subordinates vanished, teleporting tens of kilometers in the blink of an eye, leaving only blurred impressions of their movements behind.
Nathaniel rose to his feet, brushing leaves and dust from his clothes, chest pounding. He turned to Thorn, frustration and curiosity mixing in his gaze. "Why didn't you warn me? You sensed them, even with all their concealment. Didn't you?"
"Yes," Thorn's voice echoed calmly in his mind. "I sensed everything. But I exist on a different plane. You are bound to the material, Nathan. I observe the astral, where all possibilities unfold. I cannot intervene directly without a host—like your sword. As for warning you, I calculated every probability. Immediate intervention was not optimal. If I had alerted you too early, their coordinated attack would have been far more devastating."
Nathaniel frowned, trying to digest this. "Catastrophic? But they attacked anyway!"
"Precisely. By allowing you to move, I broke their formation. Their destructive potential would have been far greater if you remained stationary. The fire strike was unavoidable, yet mitigated. You survived while maintaining initiative. Now, you are aware. In future encounters, I will alert you in advance when necessary. I adapt alongside you, Nathan. As your strength grows, so too does my guidance."
Nathaniel took a moment, absorbing the weight of Thorn's explanation. Finally, he said, "Thanks… I trust you, even if I don't understand everything. Do you know where they went?"
"Yes," Thorn responded instantly. A vivid projection appeared in Nathaniel's mind, mapping the thieves' trajectory with predictive calculations of their speed, tactics, and potential traps.
Determined, Nathaniel surged forward, accelerating exponentially. The city blurred around him, streets bending and warping with his incredible velocity. Each leap, each roll, each evasive maneuver was executed with martial precision, his body a symphony of agility, strength, and speed.
The thieves' surprise was palpable. Their leader barked, "Push harder! Don't let him catch up!"
But Nathaniel was relentless. Every dash closed the distance, every obstacle overcome with acrobatic perfection. The streets seemed to bend around him, time stretching and slowing, yet his movements remained crisp, controlled, unstoppable.
Sweat streamed down his brow, heart pounding, yet he moved with the grace of a predator in its prime. "I think you've got something that belongs to me!" he shouted, voice carrying across the wind, challenge laced with authority.
The thieves faltered, confusion and disbelief spreading across their faces. Baron, teeth clenched, cursed under his breath. "By all the heavens… I will recover her. Nothing—not even that child—will stop me!"
Nathaniel's mind sharpened, calculating angles, predicting movements, integrating Thorn's guidance seamlessly. Every instinct, every learned technique, every ounce of speed, fused into a single unbroken focus: recover the pearl, neutralize the threat, and maintain dominance over the situation.
The chase stretched across the city, leaping over rooftops, diving between alleys, deflecting debris, and avoiding civilians, each movement punctuated by bursts of raw, almost unnatural speed. Thorn whispered tactical advice, probability calculations, and enhanced spatial awareness, guiding Nathaniel as he closed in relentlessly.
The leader, consumed by obsession and desperation, began to falter. He realized, for the first time, that the child was no ordinary prey. Every trick, every strategy, every ounce of cunning was being neutralized effortlessly by Nathaniel's speed, intelligence, and Thorn's omniscient guidance. Rage and fear mingled, creating an unstable, dangerous combination.
Nathaniel's determination blazed brighter. The pearl was not just an object of immense value—it represented control, destiny, and power. He would not allow it to fall into the hands of thieves, no matter how cunning or powerful they seemed. With each stride, each bound, he closed the gap between them, a living embodiment of unstoppable resolve.
The chase was far from over, but Nathaniel's focus was absolute. With Thorn at his side, guiding, calculating, and enhancing, and with his body honed to perfection, he was ready for anything. The city was his battlefield, the thieves his challenge, and the pearl his prize. Nothing—neither man, beast, nor fate—could stand in his way.