The moon hangs low in the sky, casting elongated shadows across the landscape. As the trio marches, the weight of their purpose settles upon them like a shroud. Ahead lies the city of—

"Amana," Rhys confirms, her voice steady. "We should reach it by dawn."

We had walked a considerable distance. At first, Luke offered me his shoulder to lean on, but to my surprise, I soon regained my strength and began walking unaided. We took two breaks to catch our breath, during which they gave me something to drink. Since then, we have continued without rest, driven by a sense of urgency.

Now that I think clearly, a question gnaws at my mind: Powers?

Seeker's curiosity burns brighter than the moon. "I've been wondering," Seeker begins, "about powers—"

"Took you long enough," Rhys chuckles, covering her smile with her hand. "You want a demonstration?"

Seeker nods eagerly. Rhys's eyes sparkle with a mix of amusement and anticipation. She extends her hand, and flames begin to dance from her fingertips, casting a warm, flickering light in the dim surroundings. The air around them seems to crackle with energy, and Seeker's eyes widen in awe.

A fire flickers into existence!

"Watch closely," Rhys whispered, her voice barely audible over the crackling flames [https://img.wattpad.com/75a7ab024b850fb3be7017a00a436766a52d8085/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f42625952384c797a4530393776773d3d2d313437353635313033322e313766336262386134636137616533303935303936393036333235382e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]

"Watch closely," Rhys whispers, her voice a fragile thread. The flames intensify, weaving intricate patterns. Reality bends, yielding to her will. Heat radiates from her hand, and I wonder if this is madness or magic. I feel the heat, a tangible force that is both fascinating and terrifying.

"These powers," she says, her eyes reflecting the flickering flames, "are not mere tools. They are extensions of our essence. And they can lead to unimaginable destruction." Her gaze holds mine, and suddenly, the weight of responsibility settles on my shoulders.

Is this real? But wait. Fia's glowing hand—the memory resurfaces. Was it a power too? Or something else entirely?

"Hey, don't space out!" Rhys chides, extinguishing the flame.

"Huh.." Seeker snaps back to the present, "oh, sorry about that, this just doesn't—"

"Feel real?" Luke interjects.

"Yeah.." Seeker stammers.

"Is it true?" Seeker's voice trembles. "Do all people have powers? Do the people of the city have powers too?"

Rhys’s answer is ambiguous. “Yes and no,” she replies, her voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. "Amana isn’t a lively city. It’s mostly filled with elderly residents who never desired powers. They live quiet, uneventful lives, untouched by the chaos beyond their borders.

“As for the rest of the world…” She sighs deeply, her eyes heavy with the sorrow of countless tragedies. “I’d say about one in a million are still alive, wandering this ravaged earth. The earth is scarred, and so are its people.” Before the shock wave, there were billions. Now, just a fraction remains.

Luke’s bitterness cuts through the night. “You’ll be lucky to find a soul worth saving. Fiends and Anathemas taint our reality now.”

That would be nearly 8,000 people left. My heart pounds, and my breath catches as the weight of her words sinks in. My face contorts in shock, my eyes saddened, grappling with the harsh reality. I can’t believe how much the world has changed

"Anathema"—the word clings to my thoughts. "Fia had mentioned it. What is it?"

Luke's gaze pierces me. "Anathema," he says, "once human, now twisted. They hunger for chaos. Eyes that once held warmth now blaze with insatiable thirst. They wait for the vessel to break."

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

***

In the shadowed remnants of our world, there exists a delicate dance between malevolence and salvation. The remnants of humanity cling to survival, their numbers dwindling as Anathema, those beings of malevolence, encroach upon our reality. These creatures, once human, now twisted by forces, hunger for chaos. Their eyes, once filled with warmth and salvation, now blaze with an insatiable thirst for destruction. Humans are vessels, hosts who harbor these powers. These powers wait for the vessels to break, and when the vessels break, an Anathema occurs.

***

Seeker's world trembles, both metaphorically and literally. Only one question left.

"How do they break?" Seeker's voice cracks.

"In near-death situations," Luke replies. "Some resist, valiant but fragile. Others—" His eyes darken. "Their minds shatter, souls consumed by this cursed power."

The revelation about the Anathema hangs heavy. Seeker's mind races, trying to reconcile the pieces of this fractured reality. Luke's words hang in the air like a curse, and Seeker's pulse echoes their urgency.

Luke continues: "There are those like you—the rare few who—" Then he pauses, his anger flares, and he spits out the truth: "Those crazed scum—obsessed with Death—they capture people, subject them to unimaginable horrors. 'Heaven,' they call themselves. They try to manifest a curse, an Anathema. All that because he is near—"

"What did you just say?" The question dangles, unanswered, as the earth quakes.

An earthquake? No!

"What's happening?" Seeker panics.

Rhys and Luke exchange grim glances. Rhys's whisper is a fragile thread: "It can't be…"

Luke's growl cuts through the chaos: "… They followed us."

"H-huh!!" Seeker thinks to himself "What am I seeing right now!!?"

Seeker's world tilts. The truth unravels, and he stands at the precipice of something far greater than imagined. Before them in this dim light of the moon.

They emerge—the Anathema Horde. Monstrous figures, headless and malevolent, their forms cloaked in darkness. Rough, scaly skin adorned with jagged spikes. A synchronized mass of destruction, moving as one—a nightmare given form.

Their leader—an imposing Anathema—towers twenty feet tall. Twisted horns crown its head, glinting menacingly. Eyes burn with fiery red intensity, piercing the night. Its roar echoes for miles, striking fear into hearts.

Its eyes burn with a fierce intelligence as he commands the hordes, its roar can be heard for miles, striking fear into the hearts of all who hear it [https://img.wattpad.com/aa262e745346bb4af339a86e93792f378a5ea46b/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f3433463959554a6c6f37356756673d3d2d313437353635313033322e313766336262613839306336386266343630383437393735313534392e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]

Seeker, Rhys, and Luke—mere mortals—stand frozen, breaths visible in the chill air. But survival instincts kick in. Luke's command shatters the tension: "GET DOWN HERE NOW!"

Seeker moves, his muscles obeying before his mind fully processes the danger, scrambling for cover. Rhys's determination clashes with Luke's incredulity. She would hold them off; she would—

"No, wait!" Luke stops her, his eyes scanning the monstrous figures closing in.

Rhys, determined, turns to Luke: "Listen, I'll hold them off. You get Seeker to safety."

Luke's incredulous response cuts through the chaos: "Do you have a death wish or what? That thing counters—" Rhys interrupts, she remains resolute: "We can't risk letting them follow us back to the city. I'll distract them; then you—" Luke interrupts, desperation in his voice: "Just let me think for a goddamn second!"

The tension mounts as the fate of our trio hangs in the balance. But just then...

Seeker's gaze locks onto a lone figure striding toward the horde. Walking into chaos alone, curiosity drives Seeker forward despite the peril. Drawn to the lone figure like a moth to a flame.

Rhys and Luke remain oblivious, consumed by the encroaching danger. Rhys's frantic voice breaks the silence: "Listen to me Luke, we don't have much time— Wait.." she pauses "Where's Seeker?"

Their gazes sweep. Luke points urgently: "There!"

Rhys's frustration boils over: "What is he doing?" she shouts "Seeker! Come back here—"

But Luke's grip tightens. "Wait, something's off!"

Rhys's anger shifts to concern: "What do you mean? He's about to get himself killed!"

Luke's widened eyes focus on the lone figure. "Look over there!" he points.

And over there, bathed in the eerie glow of moonlight, the man's steps are deliberate, purposeful—a lone figure navigating the chaos. As Seeker draws near, the man's body pulses with crimson veins, radiating a heat akin to molten lava. The air around him shimmers, the intensity of his wrath palpable.

In that moment, the Seeker glimpsed the truth: this lone figure was no ordinary man! [https://img.wattpad.com/95f7d59c7e22a2156e4923b8a8e88c9a96aa7bdb/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f2d696c4d6b6478495271766b6e513d3d2d313437353635313033322e3137663362326161356261313535316239393132383732393037332e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]Seeker glimpses the truth: This lone figure is no ordinary man.

"Do you lay blame upon the world?" The man's voice cuts through the chaos, it holds both accusation and sorrow. His gaze fixes on the approaching horde while he points at them. "Or is it the hearts of humankind that bear the blame for all of this?"

A challenge to the Seeker's understanding.

Seeker's fear etches lines across his face. "H-huh," he stammers, caught between awe and terror.

The man remains rooted, his hand outstretched. "I, too, slipped through the shadows," he confesses. "Drawn by an inexplicable urge." As if to emphasize his point. Right at that moment, the man's arm morphs—a long blade forged from veins of red-hot energy. It glows with crimson intensity, dropping lava from its veins, sizzling as it meets the sand, forming a crust that mirrors the chaos around them. He turns, facing Seeker, his eyes bearing the weight of countless battles.

"The burden of this cursed power," the man says, his arm-blade poised. "Let me relieve you from all of it."

Right at that moment, the blade swings with a menacing hiss. Seeker flinches, eyes shut, expecting the impact—but it never comes. Instead, his own hands have transformed—claw-like blades shielding him.

Seeker gasps, fingers elongated and metallic, forming an impenetrable barrier. The man's voice pierces the chaos once more: "You hold on to a world that crumbles, cursed one. What is your name?"

Seeker trembles: "H-Huh… I… I—"

"You won't bear the torment you'll bring upon yourself," the man warns. "Very well…" His laughter echoes, chilling. Then, the man vanishes into a fog of his own making—a swirling mist of molten heat.

With a blink, Seeker's hands revert to normal, leaving him in a state of shock. His breath comes in ragged gasps as he mutters, "I have to go back!" He staggers back, rejoining Rhys and Luke. The distant clash of man and horde echoes.

"Let's get out of here!" Seeker shouts urgently.

Rhys and Luke, sensing the gravity of the situation, rise to their feet, sprinting toward the city away from the chaos. Luke's determination carries them forward: "Let's head to the city first, then explain what happened, Seeker!"

Seeker nods agreeably.

And so, they flee—a trio racing toward safety, leaving behind a lone man whose destiny clashes with the encroaching darkness.