The next morning arrived without sunlight.
Gray clouds hung over the city like a lid sealing a jar, keeping all the air heavy and stale. Elias had not slept. He spent the night wandering through the alley behind the ruins of his home, replaying every sound, every flash of fire that had taken her.
His knuckles still hurt from where the wall had shattered. He wrapped them in a strip of cloth torn from his hoodie and stared at his hands again. They looked ordinary. Human. Yet every now and then he felt a faint pulse beneath the skin, a quiet reminder that something had changed.
He needed answers.
The police had already cleared the building, but he sneaked back in before sunrise. The apartment smelled of wet ash and chemicals. Water dripped through the cracked ceiling. He crouched where the picture frame had been and began searching the rubble.
At first there was nothing. Then his fingers brushed something metallic.
A half-melted phone. His mother's.
He sat there staring at it, unable to breathe. The screen was cracked beyond repair, but the memory card inside was intact. He slipped it into his pocket and left before anyone could see him.
Elias walked through the city until he found an internet café that opened early. The place was dim and smelled of instant noodles. A row of old computers hummed quietly.
He paid with the few coins he had left and plugged in the memory card. The computer flickered. For a second he thought it was broken, then a folder appeared on the screen. Inside were encrypted documents, voice messages, and one video file labeled "If something happens."
He hesitated, then pressed play.
His mother's face appeared on the screen, recorded in the same apartment only days ago. Her eyes were red, and she kept glancing toward the door as if she expected someone to burst in.
"Elias, if you are watching this, it means they found me. Do not go to the police. They are part of it. Remember the name Ardent. That is where it began."
Static filled the rest of the recording. The image broke apart into fragments.
Ardent. He whispered the word over and over, committing it to memory.
When he left the café the world looked sharper, louder. Every sound vibrated inside his skull. Cars honking, footsteps on wet pavement, even the buzz of neon lights made his temples ache.
He pressed his hands against his ears, but it did nothing. The noise was coming from inside. The strange pulse from last night had returned, stronger now, moving through his veins like electricity.
He stumbled into an alley, trying to catch his breath.
"Stop," he whispered to himself. "Stop it."
The air around him began to tremble. Dust lifted from the ground. A tin can rolled by itself toward the wall and flattened as if crushed by invisible pressure.
Elias froze. His heartbeat synced with the vibration. For every beat of his heart, the air seemed to expand and collapse.
He focused on the feeling. The power answered, surging outward in a wave. The concrete wall cracked, and a gust of wind burst from nowhere, scattering papers and trash into the air.
Then silence.
He stood there panting, terrified yet exhilarated.
"It reacts to emotion," he muttered. "It reacts to me."
The thought scared him more than the power itself.
A voice interrupted his thoughts.
"You should not do that out here, kid."
Elias spun around. At the mouth of the alley stood a man in a long coat, mid-thirties maybe, face half-hidden under a hood. He held a cigarette between two fingers, unlit.
"Who are you?" Elias asked.
The man smiled faintly.
"Someone who saw what you just did. And someone who knows what happens next if you do it again."
Elias took a step back.
"Stay away."
"Relax," the man said, raising one hand. "If I wanted to hurt you, I already would have. The name is Rael. You could say I am an expert in strange things."
"You work for Ardent?"
The man's smile faded.
"So you already know the name. Then you are in deeper trouble than I thought."
Elias felt the pulse rise again.
"Tell me what you know."
Rael looked at him for a long time before answering.
"Not here. They watch everything. Meet me tonight at the old train yard on the east side. Bring nothing that can track you. If you want the truth about what killed your mother, that is where you will find it."
The man turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd before Elias could say another word.
Elias leaned against the wall, trying to make sense of what had just happened.
A stranger who knew his name.A company called Ardent.And this power that kept growing every time he let his anger surface.
He looked down at his hands again. They were still trembling.
For the first time since the fire, he felt something close to direction.
That evening he stood by the edge of the train yard, the sky painted red by the setting sun. Rows of abandoned carriages stretched into the distance, graffiti-covered and silent.
He waited.
The air was still. Then a faint hum brushed against his senses that same internal vibration that warned him something was near.
He turned just as a shadow moved behind one of the train cars.
"Rael?"
No answer.
He stepped closer. The air grew colder, the pulse inside him beating faster.
A whisper floated through the dark.
"You should not have come."
The world exploded into motion.
A shape leapt from the darkness, striking him across the face. He hit the ground hard, rolling through gravel. A boot pressed down on his chest.
Through the haze he saw a man wearing black tactical gear and a visor that glowed faintly red.
"Target located," the man said into his earpiece. "Subject alive. Proceeding with retrieval."
Elias felt panic and rage collide. The pulse inside him screamed to be released.
The ground beneath him trembled. The boot lifted as a wave of invisible force burst outward. The attacker flew backward, slamming into a carriage with a metallic crash.
Elias staggered to his feet, gasping. Blue light raced beneath his skin again, brighter than before.
The man in black tried to rise, but another surge of power exploded from Elias's palm, throwing him across the tracks.
For a moment there was nothing but the ringing in his ears and the smell of ozone.
He stood alone among the ruins of the yard, chest heaving, power fading slowly like dying thunder.
"They came for me," he whispered. "They knew."
Somewhere behind the clouds, lightning flashed again.
He looked at the horizon, toward the city lights.
Ardent.
That name pulsed in his mind like a curse and a promise.
He would find them.He would make them pay.