Chapter 1
Ten years ago.
"Mom—Mom!"
He stumbled forward.
His mother lay lifeless on the floor, her once vibrant skin now pale. Her Ankara dress soaked in blood.
James dropped to his knees, gently shaking her.
Then his gaze shifted.
His father lay in the corner — his body torn, mangled beyond recognition. No human could have done this.
A chill crawled up James's spine.
A deep, brutal growl echoed behind him. Something… was in the house.
He froze.
Every instinct told him: don't turn around.
But he still did.
And there it was.
A towering wolf-like creature, standing on two legs. Its bloodstained fur clung to its body, patches ripped open. It was injured. But it was still deadly.
It growled again, unstable and unblinking — a predator with nothing to lose.
James's breath caught in his throat as death stared him in the face.
—
Jame's lungs burned. He gasped, but no air came. His chest heaved in vain.
The monster's eyes—glowing like embers—locked onto him. It didn't move. It didn't need to. The slow curl of its lips, revealing jagged, bone-crushing teeth, told him everything.
Without warning, the monster swung its claws. James lifted his guard and blocked the strike. The creature's sluggish movements, caused by its injuries, gave James just enough time to react. Still, the beast's strength was unmatched, and it hurled him across the room.
Pain shot through James's arm as he gasped for air. Luckily, he landed in the kitchen. He grabbed a knife from the sink just as the monster lunged again. James dodged, narrowly avoiding the beast's claws. He slashed at its side, but the knife barely scratched its thick fur.
The monster growled and attacked again. James sidestepped, putting distance between them.
He stared into the monster's glowing eyes, his hands trembling. He couldn't tell if it was from fear or pain. But one wrong move would mean death.
The monster charged again—faster.
Suddenly, everything slowed.
James felt his senses sharpen. His muscles tensed. He steadied himself, breathing calmly. He shot the knife and aimed at the weakest point he could find—the eye.
But before he could strike—
Clang!
The monster's jaws snapped shut, catching the knife in its teeth. James' eyes widened. The beast shattered the blade with a vicious crunch.
Before he could react, the monster slammed him into the wall, right where his mangled father lay. His head rang. He couldn't move.
The monster stalked toward him, fangs bared. Jame's vision blurred. His life flashed before his eyes.
Then—
A low mutter came from the side.
"I—will not let you take my son."
James couldn't believe it. His father, battered and bloodied, grabbed the monster by the throat.
Despite the blood pouring from his wounds, Michael forced himself to stand. His tattered shirt clung to his frame, soaked in crimson.
The monster backed away, growling at the man who'd put it in this state, An individual the monster saw as a predator in his own right. His eyes burned—not with pain, not with fear, but with something more terrifying. Determination.
The beast roared.
Michael shifted, dropping into a perfect combat stance—fluid, instinctive.
The beast exhaled, its breath hot and foul. It charged.
Michael stood firm. His body screamed in pain, but he didn't falter. James had never seen his father look so lethal.
The monster lunged.
Michael sidestepped and delivered a brutal right hook. CRACK. The beast staggered. It didn't fall, but it hurt.
The monster slashed at Michael's throat. Its claws raked his side. Michael didn't stop. He countered with a knee to the chest, an elbow to the skull. Each blow was precise, lethal.
For a moment—just a moment—James thought his father might actually win.
Then the beast roared again.
It lashed out—faster than before. Michael couldn't dodge. The claws tore into his shoulder, hurling him backward. He crashed through what remained of the dining table.
"Dad!" James screamed, trying to move, but his limbs refused to cooperate.
Michael gritted his teeth and forced himself up. His body trembled, but he wouldn't stay down. Not while his son was watching.
The monster lunged again.
Michael caught its throat with his bare hands. But the weight of the beast drove him to the floor. Claws dug into his side. Teeth snapped inches from his face.
Still, Michael didn't let go.
He squeezed harder.
His arms trembled. Pain shot through every muscle. The monster pushed harder.
Then—a bite.
CRACK.
A scream tore through the air.
Michael gasped. Blood pooled around him. His left arm—useless.
With his remaining strength, his right hand shot forward. Fingers jabbed into the beast's eye. Deeper.
Squelch!
The monster howled and thrashed. But Michael didn't let go.
A smirk touched his bloodied lips. "Got you, bastard."
Then—a final, merciless swipe tore across his chest.
Michael coughed blood. His body collapsed.
James was frozen—barely breathing.
"Dad?" His voice cracked.
Michael's eyes softened. For the first time, he allowed himself to feel the weight of his failure.
"I'm sorry… I couldn't protect her." His voice was barely a whisper. "Don't lose hope… things will get be—"
***
Present Day
"Conor." A voice yelled out.
"James Conor." The voice grew louder, jolting him awake.
James shot up from the makeshift bed of cement bags he had been sleeping on. Dust clung to his shirt, and the scent of sweat and dried concrete filled his nose.
"Are you sleeping on the job again? At this point, I'll have to start cutting your pay."
James blinked the sleep out of his eyes and stared at his supervisor.
"Anything but that, Mr. Rogers. I already offloaded all eight hundred bags of cement from all three trucks."
Rogers let out a hearty laugh and patted James on the shoulder.
"I see you're still the hard worker as usual..." He cleared his throat. "But if that's the case, then you're done for the day. Why are you still sleeping out here?"
James scratched his head nervously.
"Well, you see... I haven't been paid yet."
Rogers raised a brow at James, then turned toward the construction workers still on the job. He called out to the forklift operator.
"Hey, Tosin..."
Tosin turned off the forklift and walked over to the supervisor.
"Why hasn't James been paid yet?" Rogers gestured toward James as Tosin came closer.
Tosin shook his head.
"There's nothing I can do about it, boss." He pointed to the towering skyscraper they were still constructing. "We've been low on supplies for a long time, so there's not enough money to pay anyone yet."
Rogers let out a long sigh.
"Those damn corporate bastards sure know how to complicate things..." He turned back to James. "I guess it can't be helped."
Rogers tapped his wristband. He then stretched it out to James. James tapped his own wristband and did the same.
Beep.
James looked down at his wristband as it flickered to life.
1,000 CP received.
"My pay is supposed to be 500," James said, looking back at Rogers.
Rogers waved it off.
"Forget about it. Treat yourself to something good for once."
James smiled faintly as he walked off.
"Sir... I mean no disrespect, but is it really okay to pay him from your pocket?" Tosin asked, watching James disappear down the street.
Rogers stared after him.
"The kid's been working day and night trying to earn as best as he can... he deserves at least a little extra," he said with a soft smile. "He can think of it as a gift from me."
Rogers turned back to the half-constructed skyscraper looming over them.
"Alright, get back to work. We're almost past the deadline for this project."
---
The city buzzed with life.
Above the skyline, sleek towers rose like silver spears into the clouds. Giant holographic billboards rotated between flashy advertisements and glowing AUN logos, casting flickering neon light across passing crowds. Drone taxis zipped between lanes of transparent skyways, while mechanical vendors sold synthetic snacks along spotless marble sidewalks.
This was the capital's elite sector—a marvel of human innovation.
But as James turned into a side alley and kept walking, that vision faded like a lie.
The chrome faded to rust. Streets cracked and broken replaced the polished tiles. The hum of drones was replaced by the groan of malfunctioning streetlights. Broken homes leaned against each other for balance, and flickering neon signs struggled to stay lit.
People huddled near burning barrels for warmth, their faces hidden under makeshift scarves and blankets. A banner for AUN fluttered from a nearby wall, torn down the middle and stained.
This was the other side of the city.
Zone C.
James passed through like a shadow.
He entered a dimly lit corner store nestled between two collapsing apartment blocks.
The shopkeeper greeted him with a tired glance.
"How was work today?"
James walked to the counter, picking up four loaves of bread as he moved.
"It's the same as usual, I guess," he said flatly.
The shopkeeper studied him.
"You forgot the stale bread is at the back."
James dropped the fresh loaves on the counter.
"I know... I figured I'd treat the girls to a nice dinner today."
The shopkeeper said nothing else. Once James paid, he stepped back outside.
Across the street, two familiar old men were having their late afternoon drink beside a barrel fire.
"If you guys keep drinking like this, it's only a matter of time before you croak," James said flatly, walking past.
"Well, if you can die doing what you love, I say go for it," Kalimba, one of the drunks, chuckled.
James sighed, brushing past, but Weston, the other drunk, called out.
"Hey, Conor, you might want to keep an eye on those sisters of yours."
James stopped immediately and turned back.
"What do you mean?"
Weston took a long gulp of beer.
"I saw those girls limping back from school... looks like they're having a difficult time getting along with their peers. If you get what I'm saying."
James' eyes widened. He bolted toward the apartment complex and charged up the stairs to the fourth floor.
He burst through the door.
"Sarah, Amara... are you guys back?" he called, slamming the door shut behind him.
The apartment was small, barely enough space for a bedroom and a kitchen.
"Brother!" two voices shouted.
His sisters—identical twins—ran out of the room toward him.
But James froze.
His eyes locked on their arms and legs, covered in rough, bloody bandages. He could tell from the way they moved, from the faint stains, just how fresh the wounds were.
"What happened to you guys?"
Sarah, the older twin, forced a smile.
"No need to worry too much. We just fell down the stairs."
"Falling down the stairs did this to you?" James whispered in disbelief.
Amara tried to change the subject, grabbing the bag of bread from his hands.
"You got the good one this time," she said, her smile bright but forced.
"Woah. Seriously, it is the good one," Sarah added, pulling the bread from her sister's hands.
"I can't believe I have been so stupid".
James bowed his head. He had always seen his sisters coming home injured ever since they started high school, but hadn't paid much attention—he was always busy with work.
But now… it was all starting to make sense.
"I'm sorry." He muttered in a shaky voice
Sarah and Amara turned to James, they froze as they saw tears streamed from their brother's eyes.
"I'm sorry for being a useless brother."
He clenched his fists. His voice shook.
Sarah and Amara turned to him, startled.
He looked up, tears streaming down his face.
They didn't say anything.
They just hugged him.
---
They ate dinner in silence.
No teasing. No laughter. Just the soft clink of utensils and the distant noise of sirens from the streets below.
Afterward, James cleared the table, then collapsed onto the couch—his usual sleeping spot.
He tapped his wristband. The cracked screen flickered to life.
CP Balance: 43,075
He let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.
"I guess I finally have enough money saved to Awaken."
He clenched his fist tightly.
"Wait a little longer, Sarah, Amara... I will definitely make sure you never suffer anymore."