Rain hammered the city streets as Coker moved through the industrial maze. The cold bit through his soaked clothes, but he barely noticed. His eyes were locked on the faint glow in the shadows—a pair of red eyes watching, waiting.
Every step he took, the mark on his chest burned hotter, the pain sharpening like a blade twisting beneath his skin. The voice in his head whispered again, urgent and cruel:
*"Follow the mark. Your fate waits."*
Coker swallowed hard, muscles tight with exhaustion and fear. He had fought monsters before, but this... this was different. The darkness inside him wasn't just power; it was a curse, a hunger that clawed for more.
The figure stepped out, lit by flickering street lamps. Smaller than the beasts from before but no less deadly. It moved with a predator's grace, every muscle coiled and ready.
"You carry the Abyss," it hissed, voice like broken glass.
Coker clenched his fists, shadows licking at his fingers like hungry snakes. "I don't want it."
The creature's eyes narrowed. "No one does. But it chooses."
Suddenly, the figure lunged, claws flashing.
Coker dodged, feeling the rush of wind as the claw sliced through the air. The fight began, raw and brutal. Each strike from the creature was quick and precise, aimed to maim and kill. Coker fought back, relying on the black energy that now surged through him, moving faster, striking harder.
Pain blossomed across his side where a slash opened fresh wounds, but he ignored it, focusing on the fight.
The voice inside urged him on: *"Kill. Consume. Become."*
The world narrowed to the clash of bodies, the sound of ragged breathing, and the burning hunger beneath his skin.
With a final burst, Coker landed a blow that sent the creature staggering. Black blood spilled onto the cracked pavement, sizzling where it met the rain.
The creature hissed, retreating into the shadows.
Coker dropped to his knees, chest heaving. The burning in his chest flared as the mark pulsed violently.
Suddenly, a voice broke through the storm — sharp, commanding.
"Coker Valshar."
He looked up to see a woman stepping out from behind a pillar. She was tall and fierce, eyes like burning coals, and hair that flowed like smoke.
"I've been waiting for you," she said, voice cold but with a strange warmth underneath.
"Who are you?" Coker asked, wary.
"A Hunter. Like you, marked by the Abyss. But unlike you, I've learned to control it."
She stepped closer, the shadows around her moving like living things.
"You're at a crossroads," she said. "You can let the darkness consume you, or you can fight back — but it won't be easy."
Coker's breath caught. "How?"
She smiled faintly, a hint of sadness in her eyes.
"By learning the true price of power."
---
The next hours passed in a blur. The woman — who introduced herself as Lyra — led Coker through the twisted alleys and forgotten ruins of the city.
She showed him how to harness the shadows, how to listen to the hunger without being ruled by it.
"You have to balance the light and dark inside you," she explained. "Too much one way, and you fall."
Coker struggled, muscles screaming as he pushed his limits. The black energy burned like wildfire beneath his skin, but Lyra's presence grounded him.
"You're stronger than you think," she said quietly. "But strength without control is destruction."
---
Days turned into nights filled with training, pain, and small victories.
Coker felt himself changing, the line between boy and monster blurring, then sharpening again.
One night, as the city slept, Lyra pulled him aside.
"There's a gathering," she said. "Hunters like us, the few who stand against the Abyss. You need to meet them."
Coker nodded, exhaustion weighing on him. For the first time, he felt hope — fragile but real.
He was no longer alone.
---
But the darkness was always there, waiting.
The mark burned like a warning.
And the war had only just begun.