Dominic sat in silence, the stone beneath him cold, cracked, and uncomfortable—just like the world he was slowly waking up to.
He was alive. Again. Somehow.
But nothing about this felt like survival.
Garrick stood a few feet away, arms folded, his gray cloak fluttering slightly with the wind that swept through the slums like a sigh from a dying god.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Dominic's thoughts twisted like smoke. His body still trembled from the fight, but it was the silence that bothered him most. That man—this Garrick—had moved like a ghost. One second he was there. The next, the monster was gone, and Dominic was still breathing.
He didn't like that.
He didn't like owing someone.
Especially not someone who moved like a killer but stared like a prophet.
"Why?"
The word slipped from Dominic's mouth before he could stop it.
Garrick turned his head slightly, just enough to show he was listening.
Dominic's voice was hoarse, but his tone was steady. "Why are you helping me? I'm nobody."
Garrick didn't answer immediately. Instead, he walked toward a broken lamppost and leaned against it, his silhouette framed by the soft, dying orange of the street flames.
"You really want to know?" he asked after a while.
Dominic nodded once.
Garrick studied him, then tilted his head.
"I've seen prodigies," he said, "trained from birth, blessed with titles and weapons and teachers. I've seen monsters in human skin—men who could bend steel with a glance."
His gaze narrowed.
"But you... I watched you move, fight, react. Not trained. Not polished. But something in you responded—fast. Almost like you were mimicking a warrior's instinct."
Dominic's brow furrowed. "So I'm a copy?"
"No," Garrick said calmly. "You're an echo. A spark under ash. And the right spark... can become a wildfire."
Dominic didn't answer, but something in his chest stirred. Pride? Doubt? Maybe both.
Garrick's next words were not a question.
"When you awakened. You saw something, didn't you?"
Dominic stiffened. His thoughts flashed to fragments—shattered scenes, bloodstained symbols, voices that didn't belong to this world. A pressure in his head. A name he couldn't remember.
"...A dream," Dominic muttered. "But it didn't feel like one."
"It wasn't."
Garrick's tone had lost all of its humor now.
"That was your soul responding to your bloodline. What you saw were echoes of the past. Memories you were never meant to touch—but now you have."
Dominic clenched his jaw. "I don't understand any of this."
"You will."
Bloodlines Aren't Just Power—They're a Curse
"You think bloodlines make people strong?" Garrick said, voice low. "They don't."
Dominic blinked. "What?"
"They make people dangerous. That's not the same thing."
Garrick turned to face him fully.
"Bloodlines are inherited—but not everyone who awakens one can control it. And those who can? They become targets. Pawns. Weapons for others."
His voice hardened.
"If you'd been born in a noble house, someone would have either chained you or killed you already. In the empire, potential like yours is a liability. Especially for those born in the dirt."
Dominic lowered his eyes, his fists trembling at his sides.
"So what? I just... die?"
Garrick stepped forward.
"No. You learn. You adapt. You take control before the world decides who you're allowed to be."
"Then Teach Me"
The words came from Dominic's mouth before he even realized it.
Garrick stopped walking. His eyes flicked back.
"I thought you didn't trust me."
"I don't," Dominic admitted. "But I need to be stronger. And you're the only one I've met who doesn't treat me like trash."
"I need your help, i want to be strong so i can walk a path where no one will tell me how to live my life." Dominic bowed his head on the cracked, his determination evident in his eyes.
He didn't want to continue to stay like this, he wanted power, so he could go anywhere he wanted without anyone stop, overwhelming power to dictate his own destiny and also power to find out about his past and the dream he had when he awakened his bloodline.
A pause.
Garrick studied him for a long time, then finally nodded.
"Good have that fire in you, let it resonate with you, cause the journey ahead will treacherous and you must have something to keep you going as to why you walked this road. "
Dominic exhaled slowly.
"Then what's next?"
"Next?" Garrick Said. "We find out what you are."
He stepped closer, and Dominic felt that pressure again—that calm, heavy aura.
Garrick crouched and placed a hand over Dominic's chest, fingers just hovering.
"Your bloodline is awake... but not fully active. There's more hidden in you. Power that doesn't belong to just one path."
Dominic flinched. "What are you talking about?"
Garrick's tone turned serious.
"Most people awaken one path. One affinity. You? Your soul's fragmented. Like it doesn't belong to just one lineage."
Dominic's breath hitched. "Then what does that mean?"
Garrick stood, looking down at him.
"It means your bloodline isn't just rare. It's impossible."
Dominic Felt Cold
He didn't know what to say.
He'd spent his whole life thinking he was worthless. A nobody. Now this man was telling him he was something else entirely?
That wasn't comforting.
It was terrifying.
"Impossible doesn't mean invincible," Garrick added. "If anything, it means you'll suffer more than the rest. But if you survive..."
His voice lowered.
"You could become something the world hasn't seen for years."
Dominic raised his head slowly, fire flickering behind his tired eyes.
"Then i would make sure they never forget."
Garrick smirked.
"Good, let the lesson begin."