Danny sat there and considered his options for a moment. He could continue doing what he was doing now, which was… learning magic? Waiting for more things to happen? Working with Smith? But he knew that further changes were on the horizon. Whatever the Hag had been talking about sounded serious and that would only intensify if they realised there were more beings like him hiding beneath the city. Then there were the beings themselves, the monsters with unmatched levels of mana, an amount that would only grow as they killed each other.

The only thing that Danny knew was that the winds of change were blowing in the air, the massive shifts that were coming weren’t going to take any prisoners. He needed to be ready. What did readiness look like though?

What could Danny do to best safeguard himself from the coming chaos?

“Retta, I want an honest answer.”

“Sure, what’s on your mind, Danny?” The woman put down her mug and looked him in the eye.

Danny took a deep breath and locked eyes with the woman. “What do you think happens over the next few months?”

Retta went to immediately answer but caught herself. Whatever prepared answer she had in mind clearly didn’t cut it. She sat for a while, mulling over the thought. “I think that things are going to change drastically, everywhere. I don’t think the world was prepared for the revelation of magic. Once people truly begin to understand elementalism and can cast spells on their own? I doubt governments or the Consortium are properly prepared for the fallout. That’s only going to get worse as the occultists come closer to completing whatever it is that they’re concocting. You’re proof of it, you’ve seen the occultists, you’ve seen a demon, that, on a wide scale? Nobody is prepared.”

“That’s all very broad picture stuff, Retta. What do you think happens, boots on the ground? Here in Madley?”

Retta paused. “I don’t know Danny. Aldous could lose it and decide to kill us all once things start to slip. If what you say is true about the Old Hag, this city is going to be a hotbed of chaos, I don’t know if we’ll all survive it. No, I have no doubt people will die. Demons and the old tyrant? Your average person doesn’t stand a chance in hell.”

“That’s not very hopeful.”

Retta snorted. “I lost most of my hope when I was shipped here. I think you have a good chance of surviving. You’re on a different level, Danny. Your control of mana is growing by the day, you’re already a powerhouse, how crazy will you be as you master spells?” She grinned. “You’ll give Madley and the demons a real run for their money. You’ll be the breath of fresh air that this world is long overdue.”

Danny let her words sink in for a moment. He had no idea how to hold the expectations she was placing on him, so he avoided them. “So that’s it then. I just have to keep practising my magic, master my spells, and hope for the best?”

Retta shrugged. “It’s as good a plan as any. Why, do you have other ideas?”

Something did occur to Danny, spurred on by his inner desires. A way to grow stronger, so strong that perhaps even Aldous Madley wouldn’t be a real threat anymore. “Nah not really, just seems so simple.”

The woman scoffed. “Only you could say that. I hate to admit it, but at the rate you’re going you could master most of the earth spells in a few weeks, if even that.”

The woman was right. The path of guaranteed success was likely to just stay safe and master the spells he had access to. But now that the alternative idea had popped into his mind, an animalistic part of his brain wasn’t going to let him drop it. The other beings beneath the city all echoed his sentiment. Why waste time when a sure-fire path to greater power was waiting beneath him?

The howls of the creatures hiding in the abandoned tunnels echoed through his mind. The raw, carnal, desire to fight, to kill, to consume, ran through his body. His muscles tensed and sweat began to drip down the back of his neck. His heart began to pump vigorously, anticipating the fight that waited for him.

His breathing began to grow heavy, and his desire to charge down into the tunnels grew. The other beings further echoed his sentiment, challenging him to enter their territory. They all desired each other’s power, their mana.

If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

Danny only barely managed to wrestle his mind away from the idea long enough to regain a fraction of control. What the hell was that? Danny felt like he’d been dragged into an intense trance for a moment there. He had lost control of his thoughts, his consciousness giving way to something primal.

“Danny? Are you okay?”

“Huh?” Danny looked up at the woman, there was fear in her eyes. “Yeah, I’m uh. I don’t know- I’m fine. Yeah. I’m fine.”

Danny knew he didn’t sound convinced and the look on Retta’s face said she wasn’t either.

“I think I’m going to go. I need to exercise a bit.” Danny rushed out of the penthouse and ran out of the academy. He made sure to stop to grab his training gear along the way.

He ran like hell to a familiar spot in a corner of the city. The old industrial sector whizzed by him as he closed in on the gym that had been a home away from home for him for so many years.

It was late at night now, the entire area was quiet. The gym was locked up, as it should have been. Of course, Danny had his own key and made his way into the sacred ground. The smell of sweat and leather was more comforting than any smell in the world to him.

Danny wrapped his hands, following the same technique that Kennedy had taught him back when he’d first found the gym. MMA was great and it had been exciting for him to compete in, but his heart had always been in boxing. Kennedy had been a boxing coach to his core and a stubborn one at that, Mikey had dragged him kicking and screaming into converting to an MMA gym.

He warmed up in the traditional way, putting the timer on for three-minute rounds, and got skipping. He had never been a big fan of skipping, but it did wonders for the body. After a few rounds of that, he put down the rope and started shadowboxing. Danny’s fists came out lightning quick, devastating the imaginary opponent in front of him.

Danny danced around the ring, fighting bigger and more skilled fighters in his head. Danny hadn’t always been the giant he was now, he had been pretty scrawny when he was younger. It was only once Kennedy had started feeding him proper meals that his height shot up and he began filling out. It was hard to imagine now that he was an athletic 6’5”, but he remembered being the smallest kid in the gym.

After feeling sufficiently warmed up, Danny took out his 16 oz gloves. Proper leather, because the synthetic stuff never seemed to last as long. Danny then launched into a brutal assault on the heavy bags in the gym. His arms and legs moved faster and faster, reaching speeds that confused his brain. He found himself becoming uncoordinated as his brain struggled to keep up with the speed at which his body was moving. It got worse and worse as he subconsciously infused his body with mana, further increasing his strength and speed.

Eventually, it got so bad that Danny tripped over his own feet, sending him toppling into the wall. He grunted angrily and got back up, throwing himself at a new bag, having noticed that the last one had been reduced to shreds. His brain could handle it for a while, but as he continued to exert himself his body became increasingly infused with mana. As more mana reforced his body he got faster and stronger, leading to his brain struggling to keep up.

He had spent a decade slowly increasing the connection between his body and his brain, his mind-muscle connection had been honed to perfection. Now, it was being completely destroyed by his inhuman athleticism. Again, Danny found himself reaching a point where his brain just couldn’t keep up and his coordination went of the window and he went tumbling.

Frustrated, Danny took a deep breath and tried again. A new bag had to become a victim to his strikes after the second one was destroyed. This time Danny focused as hard as he could on the feeling of his body, he tried to consciously follow his movements, and track them as they increased in speed. Danny found his brain burning out even quicker than before.

Thinking harder wasn’t working. What else could he try?

Danny remembered some advice he’d been given long ago, back when he had been first introduced to sparring. It had become so ingrained into his mind and practice that he had practically forgotten it.

“You can’t think when you’re in the ring. You’re relying purely on instinct and muscle memory. You have to be in flow, Danny. Everything you’ve spent hours practising and drilling just has to be allowed to flow.”

Kennedy had pulled him aside and told him that so early on.

Danny took a deep breath and stepped in front of a new bag. He cleared his mind and focused on the bag in front of him. He kept his mind clear as he ramped up, the mana creeping into his muscles. The bag in front of him was quickly reduced to shreds, but Danny kept punching. Without a second of hesitation, he crossed the distance to the next bag, making quick work of it. There were four more bags hanging in the gym. Danny moved from one to the next, his strength and speed growing until he made it to the last bag.

There were no thoughts in his head, he was just punching. His feet were moving exactly how they needed to, he twisted his hips into his punches effortlessly. His shoulders were relaxed and his fists only clenched a millisecond before making contact with the bag. As he crossed the distance to the last bag he crouched slightly, transitioning his weight over his right hip. With a breath out, he threw a hook that split the air, all of his weight and power condensed behind his fist. The fist screamed through the air, cleaving through the bag, and his glove, reducing both to warm dust.

Danny stopped and looked at his exposed hand with shock. “What was that?”