The world slowed.
Not metaphorically—truly, terrifyingly slowed.
Damian could see it.
The dire wolf's breath came out in thick, ragged clouds, each exhale trembling with rage. Its jaws were clamped around John's arm, teeth sunk deep into flesh and bone, blood running down in hot, sticky streams that stained the grass beneath them. John's face had gone pale, his scream raw and breaking, more animal than human.
The older man was already dead.
His body lay a few steps away, collapsed in a way no living thing ever should. Damian's eyes flicked there for half a heartbeat—and that was enough.
'If I freeze… I die next.'
Fear surged up his spine, sharp and paralyzing, threatening to lock his limbs in place. But something else rose with it—cold, calculating, unnervingly clear.
'Observe. Decide. Act.'
Damian inhaled deeply.
The lessons came back to him.
Grip.
Angle.
Depth.
Target.
The wolf was wounded. One leg dragged slightly—damaged by gunfire. Its attention was divided, focused entirely on John, intoxicated by blood and pain.
'Heart location… slightly left. Deeper than normal wolves. Thick ribs.'
He tightened his grip around the dagger.
The weapon felt different in his hand.
Lighter.
Sharper.
As if it belonged there.
Damian moved.
He stepped in, closing the distance with a sudden burst of speed that surprised even himself. The wolf sensed movement and began to turn, but it was a fraction too slow.
Damian drove the dagger forward with everything he had.
Steel met flesh.
The blade sank deep into the dire wolf's chest.
The beast howled, a thunderous, enraged sound that shook Damian to his bones. Its jaws loosened, teeth tearing free from John's arm as it stumbled back, blood spraying in a wide arc.
John collapsed to the ground, clutching his mangled limb, gasping for breath.
The dire wolf's gaze snapped to Damian.
Its eyes were massive, glowing with primal hatred.
And in that moment—
Damian's vision sharpened.
Every detail snapped into focus.
He could see the minute twitch of muscle beneath the wolf's fur, the way its weight shifted to compensate for its injured leg, the exact rhythm of its breathing. The chaos in his mind vanished, replaced by an unnatural calm.
'So… this is clarity.'
His heart still pounded, but his thoughts were aligned—body and mind moving as one.
A strange power surged through his veins.
It wasn't heat or electricity.
It was control.
Damian twisted the dagger free and plunged it in again—this time deeper, more precise, angling the blade exactly as his instincts demanded.
The resistance gave way.
The dire wolf shuddered violently.
Its roar died in its throat.
With a final convulsion, the massive body collapsed onto the ground, shaking the earth beneath it before going completely still.
Silence followed.
Heavy. Absolute.
Damian stood there, chest heaving, dagger dripping with blood, staring at the corpse as if it might rise again.
Then—
A voice echoed inside his head.
Not sound.
Not imagination.
Something else entirely.
[You have awakened your dormant power]
Damian's breath caught.
Another message followed immediately, overlapping the first.
[Absorb Soul Crystal of Dire Wolf]
His pupils shrank.
'What…?'
The world around him faded to the edges of his awareness as something strange manifested before his eyes—a faint, translucent text hovering just beyond his vision.
[Absorb Soul Crystal of Dire Wolf]
It wasn't projected into the air.
It was there—inside his perception.
Damian's thoughts raced.
'A system…? Awakening…? Is this real?'
Without fully understanding why, he focused on the words.
"Yes," he thought.
The response was immediate.
[Absorbed successfully]
A sensation unlike anything he had ever experienced exploded within him.
Power flowed—not violently, but steadily—like a stream finding a long-dry riverbed. His body trembled as warmth spread from his chest to his limbs, sinking deep into his bones.
His vision blurred for a moment.
Then—
Nothing.
No light.
No divine fanfare.
No transformation.
Just… him.
Standing there.
Alive.
'Did it really happen?' he wondered, half-expecting the words to vanish.
He barely had time to process the thought before a scream tore him back into reality.
"Damian—!"
John's voice was hoarse, desperate.
Damian spun around.
Blood soaked John's sleeve, his arm torn open in several places, flesh shredded where the wolf's teeth had crushed down. His face was twisted in pain, teeth clenched so hard Damian feared they might shatter.
The shock hit Damian all at once.
The dead body.
The blood.
The silence.
The others stood frozen, eyes wide, weapons trembling uselessly in their hands.
'Move,' Damian ordered himself. 'Now.'
He rushed to John's side and dropped to his knees.
"Don't pass out," Damian said sharply, forcing calm into his voice. "Look at me."
John swallowed hard, nodding weakly.
Damian turned to the others. "First aid kit. Now."
They reacted instantly, panic breaking under command. Hands fumbled, bags were opened, medical supplies spilled onto the ground.
Damian worked quickly.
Pressure bandage.
Disinfectant.
Tourniquet—tight, but not too tight.
His hands moved with surprising steadiness.
'Focus. Don't think.'
They worked together, following WAU emergency training to the letter. It wasn't enough to heal John—but it was enough to keep him alive.
The older man lay dead nearby, a grim reminder of what hesitation cost.
Once John was stable enough to move, Damian helped him to his feet.
"Can you walk?" Damian asked.
"Don't really have a choice," John muttered through clenched teeth.
They moved slowly, painfully, every shadow a potential threat. No one spoke. No one dared.
When the walls of the city stronghold finally came into view, Damian felt something loosen in his chest.
Safety.
Or at least, the illusion of it.
Inside the fortified area, WAU personnel took over immediately. Medics rushed John away, stretcher wheels rattling against stone as Damian followed until he was stopped by a firm hand.
"You did well," a soldier said quietly. "Go report."
Damian nodded, exhaustion crashing down on him all at once.
The WAU branch inside the portal city was a world of its own.
A trade center sprawled across several reinforced buildings, filled with racks of weapons, enchanted armor, shields bearing sigils, and crates of monster materials awaiting processing. The air buzzed with commerce and power.
There was a potion section—glass vials glowing faintly in every color imaginable.
Health potions.
Strength enhancers.
Mana recovery brews.
An infirmary stood nearby, filled with groans and muted screams—normal soldiers, cleanup crews, people like him.
This was routine.
People got hurt.
People died.
And the world moved on.
Damian sat on a metal bench, hands clasped tightly together, blood long since washed away but still stained into his memory.
'This is the new world,' he thought. 'Power decides everything.'
Awakened walked past without sparing him a glance. To them, normal humans were tools—replaceable, fragile, unimportant.
'No,' Damian corrected himself. 'Not normal anymore.'
His heart pounded as he turned inward.
'System.'
The response was instant.
A translucent interface unfolded before his mind's eye.
Name: Damion
Race: Human
Rank: Awakened [2/1000]
Aspect: Locked
Skills:
• Eye of Analysis [Rare]
• Overclock [Rare]
Items:
• Dagger [Common]
• Handgun [Common]
Soul Power: 1/1000
Damian stared.
His breath trembled.
'It's real…'
Awakened.
He had crossed the boundary that separated the powerless from the powerful.
His eyes lingered on the skills.
'Eye of Analysis… Overclock… Rare?'
He didn't fully understand what they did—but the word Rare alone sent a chill down his spine.
'I wasn't chosen,' he thought slowly. 'I survived.'
A shadow fell across him.
"Damian Barik."
He looked up to see a WAU agent standing before him, uniform crisp, gaze sharp.
"We need a detailed report."
Damian stood and told them everything—every movement, every mistake, every moment. He didn't hide his awakening. There was no point.
The agent listened silently.
When Damian finished, the man nodded.
"You're lucky," he said plainly. "Most people awaken and die moments later. You lived."
Lucky.
Damian didn't know how he felt about that word.
"You must register immediately," the agent continued. "Until then, you are restricted. No use of abilities. No portal entry. No leaving the city."
Damian nodded.
An appointment was set—two days later, 5 PM.
Rules were explained. Laws. Consequences.
This power wasn't freedom.
It was a leash.
When everything was finally done, Damian stepped through the exit portal back to Earth.
The familiar sky greeted him.
The world looked the same.
But he wasn't.
As he walked home alone, exhaustion weighing heavily on his body, one thought echoed clearly in his mind:
'This is only the beginning.'