It seemed to happen in slow motion before me. Treena laid on top of her mother’s body, trembling as it flashed back and forth between her and my wife Layla.

The orc snarled as froth sprayed from the side of his mouth with the broken tusk.

I heard a voice shouting for Treena to move. I knew it was my own, but it sounded like the voice of another man. It was almost as if I was experiencing it from across the room.

The oversized, double-sided axe arced through the air towards her. I tried desperately to move. If I could just get to her. If I could just save her.

But I couldn’t move. My body was obstinate in its refusal to obey me. I felt so powerless as I watched the scene from the worst seat in the house.

I felt hopeless as the axe travelled through the air, inching closer to the small and frail child before me. She was defenceless, she was in pain and there was nothing I could do to help.

I was forced to watched as the axe moved at an agonisingly slow rate, yet I never gave up.

Despite my uncooperating body, I pushed with all my mental might. I would move. I had to move.

I had to save her, because if I couldn’t protect her right here and now, how would I ever be able to trust myself to protect my own child in the future?

I had to avenge Layla.

My brain stopped for a moment, like a mental blink as that thought reverberated around my skull.

Protect her? Isn’t she still on earth?

Then time sped back up.

The axe sliced into Treena’s neck and within a fraction of a second she was gone. Her head rolled down the side of her mother’s torso, stopping upright and facing me.

Her eyes held a lingering sadness. They were puffy and red and they looked straight into mine and said: “how could you let this happen? You said you’d protect me.”

The accusatory glare was right and that truth hit me like a truck. My heart pounded, I couldn’t catch my breath and my stomach twisted with the knot of self-loathing.

Blood gushed from her little body like a fountain. It ran down her mother’s back like a rushing river.

And then the light went out.

Those eyes that had been so full of life, joy, childish wonder and in the end, sadness, turned to glass.

I dropped to my knees and stared open mouthed, unable to comprehend what had happened. Unable to live with my failure as an adventurer, as a human being, as a soon-to-be father.

My brain simply wouldn’t function properly as I struggled to comprehend the scene. Had I just witnessed the tragedy of Treena losing her mother and then her own life. Or was it Layla that had been laying there on the ground.

What was happening to me? Why wasn’t my mind able to tell the difference. It didn’t make sense. It was… painful.

I couldn’t tell if time had slowed down again or if my thoughts were just racing too thick and fast to process properly. As I stared at the dead child in front of me, I felt like…

The orc let out a bemused snort.

“Tiny heretic.” It spat, the phlegm landing on her face.

And that was when the damn finally broke. The floodgates opened and my despair was consumed by a burning, pulsing rage.

It shot up from the pit of my stomach like an erupting volcano and my vision turned a deep crimson.

I felt numb, I couldn’t feel my fingers as I summoned my daggers and charged.

Crashing into the Orc was like hitting a brick wall as he looked down at me like I was an annoying fly buzzing around him.

A bemused expression twinged on his lips, an expression that didn’t reach his hateful eyes. I arced my left arm around in a bladed hook and slashed at his naval.

It barely left a scratch.

His skin was so tough and had I been in my right mind I would have disengaged and found a smarter approach. Instead I continued slashing. I slashed and stabbed like a man possessed. I gritted my teeth so hard I felt a tooth crack.

I didn’t feel the pain though, just a numb sensation of cracking enamel in my mouth.

The Orc laughed at my futile attempt to harm him as my daggers bounced off his skin in quick succession. His laugher stoked the flame of my rage and I stopped my futile assault.

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I glared up at him, seething.

“Puny human.” He chortled, tipping his head back.

We’ll see. I thought as I saw myself ripping him apart in my mind’s eyes.

The image was so overwhelming it burned into the back of my retina. I wanted to murder him, I wanted to hurt him and make him pay.

It was a primal feeling, a calling of the reptilian brain and at that moment my entire body merged into one. It was as if my anger had become a living, breathing thing.

I was no longer Kaleb the ex-truck driver, Kaleb the adventurer, Kaleb the… human.

I was Kaleb the living embodiment of vengeful rage.

I became connected to myself in a way I didn’t even know was possible. It felt like when I mediated, it was almost peaceful, but it was a perversion of that feeling.

I knew it was wrong, but it felt so right.

I forced my soul, my very being out of my body. I pushed with every fibre of my being and at the same time I grabbed onto something else.

A power not born within me, it didn’t belong to me, but I grabbed it anyway with both hands and I refused to let go.

Somewhere outside of myself I heard a guttural, terrified scream and then, I felt it.

The Orc’s soul.

It was a tiny black orb. It looked sickly, twisted. I felt myself smile as I grabbed it and squeezed.

It’s my turn bitch.

My eyes flew open and I was both back in the room and inside my meditation space at the same time. I could feel his soul, mould it and yet I could also control my body and see the world through my own eyes.

The Orc backed up and tripped over a bench. He landed on his back and scrabbled away.

He stared up at me with wide eyes, his lips trembled. I grinned as I walked towards him, twisting, and tearing at his soul.

“This is for Treena and Layla you sick bastard.” I growled.

He looked back at me with a fearful blankness in his eyes. He looked confused and terrified.

“I don’t even know who that is!” He whimpered pleadingly.

He opened his mouth again to scream as I pulled on his soul but I put a stop to it. I don’t know how, but I willed him into silence and he was helpless against me.

I wouldn’t allow him the release of screaming. I needed him to be present in the room, to feel every bit of the pain I was about to inflict on him.

I had no idea how I was doing it, but in the moment I didn’t care. I would avenge them both. I’d make him suffer.

“Kaleb, stop!” A familiar voice shouted in the distance. It barely registered.

I looked at the Orc and saw only red, a waterfall of scarlet ran through my vision. I willed him to feel pain and his face twisted in agony.

He was still unable to scream, though he clenched his toes and dug his nails into the floorboards. His eyes stared up at me, pleading with me to stop.

Not yet, I want you to beg me to let you die. I thought in a voice that sounded far different to my own.

“Kaleb please, you’ll die!” The faraway voice screamed.

I pulled at the Orc’s soul as he screamed silently. It felt tangible in my hands, though my hands were by my sides the whole time.

The more I pulled the worse he looked. His skin went pale, blood poured from his eyes. He’d already ripped his fingernails off as he contorted on the floor, gripping the floorboards and writhing in an agony worse than any physical torture.

I need more.

I pulled harder, tugging on his soul like it was a rope. He’d already given up fighting back. I had complete control.

“Kaleb!”

A sharp pain bit into my thigh and I reflexively gripped down hard on the Orc’s soul which burst like a water balloon in my hands.

No! I wanted more!

Blood oozed from his mouth; his body withered before my eyes. It dried up until there was nothing left but a skeletal, mummified figure.

I looked down towards the source of the pain in my thigh. A dagger was stuck in my leg… my dagger.

Panda held it, he was shaking as he stared at me with watery eyes. Then there was a flash of white light and my scarlet tinted world turned black.

***

“What was that?” Director Lucas said breathlessly.

He had goose bumps and a cold sweat chilling him to the bone as he floated hight in the clouds above the island.

He had been instructed to watch Kaleb as he navigated his new quest. It had been pretty tedious for the most part – a huge waste of his valuable time.

Until it wasn’t.

A powerful aura had exploded out from the building the noob adventurer had entered. It felt malicious, evil even. It hit him like a shockwave and the gold ranked adventurer, the most powerful man in Havar, trembled.

This pleases me greatly. He has surpassed my expectations. Diako said into Lucas’s mind.

He had felt the god’s presence from the moment he left Havar. He was using him as a vessel, seeing through his eyes, experiencing things through his skin.

It was an uncomfortably intimate process and Lucas hated it. But what choice did he have? This was his god after all.

“I don’t understand, My Lord, what was that?”

You tell me. What did it feel like to you? The god replied in a playfully amused tone.

Lucas hadn’t heard him this happy since… well, ever. He’d never heard him sound this pleased before.

“It felt like indomitable power… it reminded me of my father.” Lucas replied, shuddering at the thought of a phase two exuding power comparable to his tyrannical father.

Exactly. Isn’t it incredible? To unlock that so early in his development. The god trailed off, as if he was biting his tongue before he revealed too much to his subject.

“Is this the thing I’m missing?” Lucas asked quietly.

He’d been told that he was missing something. A key ingredient to breaking through the level cap. It was the source of his father’s greatest shame. The reason he had been exiled to Havar.

It is.

He shook with a sudden burst of rage as his fists closed into tightened balls. His fingernails cut into his palms and tiny droplets of blood rained down onto the burning village below.

How could a mere phase two have access to a power that he, a gold ranked adventurer, could never obtain. It was an outrage, a scandal, it was… terrifying.

Using his advanced perception he quickly scouted the village. He could only see two signs of life, both within the village hall. One of them was faint, barely clinging to existence.

A moment ago the village had been full of life. There was so much emotion in the mana, fear, hatred, bloodlust as the Orcs hunted and executed the dryad population.

Now though, after that single blast of aura, there was nothing.

The village lay still.

“Tell me one thing, why did you order me to tell him it was a cultist fort?” Lucas asked, loosening his grip on his palms.

To test him. I wanted to see how he’d react, I wanted to prime him for… this. Emotional manipulation is a subtle but powerful art.

And it worked beautifully. The boy has awakened. He has the potential to be useful to me.

Now, I need you to make sure that he doesn’t use it again.

Not until he’s ready.