With the bag secured and his spirits high, he stood in front of the legendary stairs leading to the Downstair Klub, unknowingly correcting his posture and standing with more pride and breath in his chest. His black T-shirt clung tightly to his muscled chest as he smiled and started making his way downstairs, petting the Granite Sphinx on the head and flicking a cigarette butt off its mane.

His mentors were kind enough to provide him with a few thousand Zlotych( PLN/Polish currency) for the upcoming weeks, and while he could easily take whatever he needed, that cash gave him much-needed peace of mind.

For a person who grew up in a poor household, and later had to earn for himself since he was sixteen the downfall of what they describe as some pocket change was comparable to obtaining magical prowess. Now, a few hundred zlotych lighter, yet a few grams heavier he started walking down the steep steps of the club. The wooden planks older than himself squeaked under his weight. He slid his flesh hand along the railing, smiling, like caressing a lover's arm.

As he reached the bottom, a ticket seller he was familiar with was waiting for him to pay for the entry. He almost welcomed him by name but managed to stop himself and simply paid for the entry. The ticket seller looked at him weirdly when Luke extended his arm and a dangling onyx-like blade dangled from an almost ceramic, spine-like bracelet but he ignored it and wrapped the badge around Luke's wrist.

Luke went straight ahead and entered the Bar Room through an archway entrance, already crowded with people, with some electronic music blasting from the speakers hanging on chains from the archway-like ceiling. The black walls, the dark wooden floors, the massive stone bar, all of it brought warmth to his heart.

The cracks in the walls show off red brickwork.

The fake plants over the highlighted alcohol shelf.

The sticky bar mats.

And especially the crew behind the bar.

Right now he could see the two closest to him, the stocky bartender named Duvi, a man with the soul of a poet and the heart of a teddy bear. And quite the enthusiast of medieval flute songs to which they spent countless nights getting drunk after work.

Next to him, rolling a joint on the bar top was another close friend of Luke, with long flowing chestnut hair and slim build, Nina, the boss of the bartender in this dump.

A person with whom he shared a deep and personal connection, that started off by trauma bonding but became strengthened by mutual understanding and respect for each other’s circumstances.

They connected over unfiltered truth.

She looked at him and for a moment he was afraid she would see through his disguise, even covered by magic and tons of smoke within the room.

But alas, she only asked for his order. He asked for the usual honey beer he loved so much in this place, and went to the toilet to start off the night with some nose sugar.

After he has done the deed, he feels the hollow thrumming of stress and pressure on his mind lessen and become more distant.

*That shit is still more magical than most of the stuff I learned* he joked to himself as his nose started dripping and brain tingling in tandem with his fingertips. He could even ignore the void more easily thanks to this.

He knew this was not the answer, that his mental walls barely stood against the onslaught of guilt, fear, anger, and confusion he felt.

They were full of cracks, born of pressure from the constant physical trauma and mental anguish the void was inflicting on him.

They were shaky from the influence of the overbearing Primordial energies that tried to force him into excess.

He just needed to unload.

To let all of this go.

To regain his balance.

To let his thoughts settle inside his mind.

As some minutes passed he sipped the beer and walked around aimlessly, elbowing his way through high and drunk people he could feel himself fall into a trance of nostalgia and high.

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So many memories now clear as a raindrop, thanks to his mind being strengthened after Piercing the Veil he could now recall times long forgotten to him, with such small details he could only barely contain the beaming smile on his face.

He felt a weird pull guiding him towards the main dance floor where the DJ was blasting some great songs, but he decided to snort up before he went there.

Again, making some small talk with some randoms before he hit another line he waited in the toilet. With each passing second his mind cleared and became more tamed.

After the second inhale he fell in pain, with tears in his eyes but ready to enter the dance floor.

Koncertowa(the concert hall) welcomed him with open, heavy, and cast-in iron wooden doors.

As he entered the music and noise hit him like a car against the wall.

He could feel his magic and the Void of it react to it, surprising him enough to widen his eyes.

As he stepped closer and the noise became louder his whole body thrummed with… something.

Gaining momentum he stepped closer and closer to the DJ, pushing his way against the standing and dancing onlookers. No one minded him, he was lost amidst the sea of clueless people trapped within their own minds.

So he allowed himself to dive deep Inside His Head.

With a beer bottle in his hand, he started swaying gently, arms raised and the Sword locked into the Bracelet form jingling with ominous sound as he moved side to side, punched the air with his left and right arm, stepping from one foot to another.

As the music gained speed and bass he could feel his lungs vibrate and Resonate.

His energy field was reacting to the rhythm.

He could feel the foreign forces that invaded his very self react and align.

He could feel the harmonizing power of Resonance.

He could endure the crackling, agonizing power of Dissonance.

Luke’s knees bent under the hypnotizing, enticing pressure of both powers raging within, guided by the music.

As he grabbed the railing in front of the scene where the DJ was losing his mind flaying as if he was electrocuted, the hanging subwoofers blasted Luke's very being with a rhythm that made his mind connect the dots. Fill in the gaps in his knowledge. Complete his very being.

His powers started emitting out of his body, the surrounding people started getting pushed away inch by inch by an unseen force.

The more force was exerted in the real, the more punishment the Veil executed on him. His body was flayed under the illusion, skin opening in gashes and bleeding.

Whips of reality punished him for his transgression of using the secret powers near witnesses.

He cared little for it.

He felt all of the puzzle pieces fit into place. Some before unknown, yet obvious now knowledge flooded him.

The Void.

The Primordial Chaos.

They all followed a certain set of rules.

A certain rhythm. A frequency.

His body was expelling excess energy, people around were starting to get concerned, and with more attention, more punishment came.

Luke’s eyes started bleeding. His gums crunched under the pressure his teeth were put under. His body was trembling, violently, being shaken by vibrations from within and without.

His body curled under the overwhelming pressure yet he smiled like a madman as his mind blossomed.

It expanded into previously unknown realms of comprehension.

The Chaotic Primordial energies trembled as they ignited within.

The Void echoed with silent pressure outward and inward as his understanding, his connection, deepened.

He could feel the two powers try to intermingle, how they could better support each other.

RESONANCE

Yet, he could also recognize their complete inability to do so, two opposites that were repulsed by each other. They clashed and with that, their destructive powers could deepen, he could feel it. How each power could degrade, harm, and weaken the other.

DISSONANCE

As his mind fell deeper and deeper into the understanding, he could feel his true, own will, uninfluenced by the power's response. Unabated by the pain of the void that endlessly slashed at his body and mind, unbothered by the wants and needs of chaos.

He could feel his own soul, and mind, its power and scope.

And so he willed the control over his powers.

In the time that was happening, the surrounding crowd could feel physical pressure on them, the man in the middle of the dancefloor was visibly in pain yet laughing like a madman, his chest and mouth started radiating light, and his whole body became covered in depthless scars.

They could feel their minds twist and contort witnessing that visage. Every fraction of a second something forced them to forget and lose their concentration on the source of abnormalities.

The more they paid attention, the more wounds appeared on the man. Like invisible lashes his skin opened with bloody gashes, sizzling with heat, yet he remained unbothered. Too deep in his madness to care.

With a sudden lurch when the music reached its peak, he spread his arms out, and all the people got tossed away from him, smashing and falling on each other.

The next second, he was gone, no light, no trembling reality, nothing to shake their minds.

Another second passed, and they all got confused, the DJ lost his tempo, and the people were looking at each other, asking and wondering why everyone was lying on the floor.

In that one second, Luke’s body got tossed by the Veil into the magical realm. He caused too much disturbance and since the punishment it executed didn’t work, and he wasn’t opposing the translocation, he got cast into the other side.

That didn’t stop the process.

His body didn’t undergo any major changes, his power didn’t exactly grow. But it certainly deepened. So did his comprehension.

For hours, he got lost in his mind, reclaiming his individuality, and exploring his influence. The smile did not leave his face.

His body ignited, cleaning all drugs and alcohol from within. His veins on fire pumped unending streams of power which he picked apart to learn from, they fed the endless hunger of the Void which he sank into, swam within, and took it into his comprehension. Into his own embrace.

Suddenly, something reacted to his probing, a lone flame shining with his own light. Distorted, dirty, yet unmistakably his own.

His smile spread so wide, his lips almost ripped.

He shut the process off.

He could feel a trace of himself, and who it was connected to.

He almost forgot all about it.

His last gift before he was thrown into the sewers.

Who would have thought that still stuck to that piece of shit.

With the hunger of a hunter, he set off to find his prey.

With clarity of thought he hadn’t felt in months, drunk on power and yearning for an outlet to let it loose, he rushed out of the club.

Towards the source of his own residue of power.

The power that was calling to him.

Begging to be reclaimed.

He dashed across the city, with his blood pumping in his ears like a jackhammer.

With a heave, he exploded from the cobblestone and landed in one leap on the roof above the Night Square. A place is known for having the most clubs with the worst, drunkest, horniest, and overall worst customers.

He squatted on the perch made of marble and reentered the Real. His skin still healing the gashes made by the veil, he literally sizzled and shook in anticipation.

He used his powers to hide his presence and waited, waiting in silence.

Like a hawk, he was stalking his prey, waiting for that fucking blond piece of shit Nazi Schnitzel to leave the bar and experience pain.