“Since I’ll be doing that what will you be doing?” asked Trish

“As for me, since you’ll be overseeing Cole, I have no reason to stay at the clinic. So I’ll head back with you today and tomorrow I’ll begin searching for Blast Cores. My phone was destroyed in that shoot-out before where you died. Get me a phone and put your number inside so that we can stay in contact when possible.” said Damian

Trish nodded, acknowledging Damian's plan. "Understood. I'll get you a phone by tomorrow so make sure to stay connected. Meanwhile, I'll focus on finding and mentoring the Conduits to ensure things run smoothly on the ground."

Damian and Trish continued walking to the makeshift clinic. Once they arrived Trish took a moment to attend to the wounded residents. She had Damian check to see if any of the patients had possible Conduit potential, considering them for her future mentorship. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment at the lack of potential Conduits among them. Amanda and Cole were the only ones with Conduit abilities in the clinic, limiting her options for mentoring.

However, Trish did get too discouraged and instead focused on her responsibilities. She went about her healing duties, tending to the injured and providing comfort to those in need. Damian and Zeke assisted where they could, organizing supplies and offering a helping hand. The night progressed, and the makeshift clinic buzzed with activity before toning down.

Once the immediate medical needs were addressed, they went to sleep. Once the morning sun rose Trish approached Damian with a small, functional phone. "Here, I managed to find a spare phone for you. I've added my number along with Amanda’s. Please use it so that we can stay in touch. Remember, we need to coordinate our efforts and the best way to do that is to keep each other informed."

Damian accepted the phone from Trish, noting the added numbers, and said, "Thanks. So tomorrow, I'll start searching for Blast Cores. It's a crucial step in enhancing my abilities, and we'll need all the power we can get."

Trish nodded in agreement. "Sounds like a plan. Cole should wake up soon, so I’ll be busy playing my role."

Damian nodded. "Good, then I’ll be leaving now. For now, I’ll be heading to the blast epicenter. Good luck I’ll be seeing you."

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As the morning sun cast its golden hues across the city, Damian prepared to leave in search of Blast Cores. Leaving the makeshift clinic behind, he walked through the still-recovering streets of Empire City's Neon District. The atmosphere was charged with tension, remnants of the chaos that had unfolded not long ago.

Damian's destination lay in the heart of the city—the Historic District. However, reaching it wouldn't be a straightforward journey. The area was heavily guarded by First Son soldiers, and the enigmatic figure known as Kessler, the mastermind behind the unfolding events.

Not to mention that Sasha and her Reaper faction were rapidly gaining power in the Neon District where he currently was. Sasha’s powers intrigued Damian and he had actually wanted her to be his first follower but circumstances forced his hand. Nevertheless, he still wanted her and that meant he needed the Blast Cores.

Damian’s best shot was the crater where Cole activated the Ray Sphere. Blast Core and Blast Shards were just chucks of earth irradiated with Ray Field Energy or RFE. Truthfully Cole’s body held the highest amount of RFE was Cole, who was at the epicenter of the blast and if Damian consumed him he would have enough energy to unlock his full abilities. However, that would mean that there would be no Cole and Damian would need to take over his role of fighting the Beast which sounded annoying and idiotic.

Damian moved stealthily across the rooftops, he couldn't ignore the constant pull of his instincts urging him to consume Cole and absorb the vast Ray Field Energy stored within him. The temptation was potent, and the potential increase in power was enticing. However, Damian knew that the timing wasn't right. Devouring Cole now would yield minimal benefits compared to the potential unlocking of powers in New Marais.

The path to the Historic District was fraught with challenges. Sasha's Reaper faction, who were rapidly gaining dominance in the Neon District, roamed the streets capturing any and all they could. Damian, opting for a cautious approach, stuck to the high vantage points, navigating the rooftops to avoid direct confrontations. The city below was a canvas of an ill recovery and would eventually breed more chaos.

As he reached a rooftop near the bridge connecting the Neon and Historic Districts, Damian surveyed the scene below. Abandoned cars littered the roadway, and makeshift blockades hinted at the attempts to maintain order amid the post-chaos aftermath. The police, working tirelessly to restore some semblance of normalcy, had erected barriers to control the flow of traffic and maintain a fragile peace.

Damian carefully descended down and rooftop ladder and walked near the bridge until coming across an area without many people. When the coast was clear he lept over the rail and dove into the water. With the mobility of an aquatic dolphin, he maneuvered through the ocean underneath the bridge. The underwater passage allowed him to reach the other side without drawing undue attention.

Emerging from the water, Damian found himself on the outskirts of the Historic District. The challenges ahead were formidable, with First Son soldiers maintaining a strict vigilant watch and Kessler's presence looming in the background. Damian knew he needed to proceed with caution and strategic precision to reach the blast epicenter, where the coveted Blast Cores awaited.

As the island where the blast occurred the Historic District faced the full brunt of the explosion. Even though it had only been a few days since he had last been here the city's transformation into what looked like a battleground was astonishing. The sounds of struggles, robberies, and even killings reached Damian's ears as he ventured deeper into the Historic District. The remnants of a once-thriving city were now obscured by the shadows of disorder and uncertainty. The First Son soldiers, enforcing a strict and oppressive order, patrolled the streets with vigilance, making any misstep a potential confrontation.