The city was loud and busy. I stood on the sidewalk, gripping my strange black scythe. My hands felt cold. My heart pounded like a trapped bird. I kept staring at the people, thinking how none of them knew the Tower would soon ruin everything. Not yet.
I looked up and saw the Tower in the distance. It was huge, dark, and silent against the sky.Everyone just walked past it, not having a clue. Kids laughed. Friends argued softly. For a second, I wished I could be one of them—a normal guy, before things went bad.
I started walking, needing air and space to think. The scythe pulsed in my hand, and I almost dropped it. A voice echoed in my head—soft, like a whisper:
"Hungry, are you?"
I tried to ignore it. I needed somewhere quiet. I turned down a narrow alley. It smelled like trash and rain. I stopped and faced the wall, breathing hard.
Could I really use this power now? I shut my eyes, focusing. A cold feeling crept through my arms. The scythe started to glow a little—silver light swirling around my fingers. I reached out, and a ghostly shape appeared: a wolf made of fog. It didn't look real. It didn't look possible. For a second, I just watched it in awe.
Then I made it vanish. The alley was silent again.
I tried another trick—looking at lifespans, like little numbers floating beside living things. It worked too well. I saw flies, rats, even my own number ticking down. I felt sick and shut it out fast.
Suddenly, someone yelled behind me.
"Hey! What are you doing here?"
I spun around. A skinny man, dirty jacket and wild eyes, walked up holding a knife. His voice was rough, desperate.
"Not here for trouble," I said, hoping he'd walk away. I felt my grip tighten on the scythe anyway.
He lunged. Faster than I thought, my body moved—skills from long ago kicking in. The scythe blocked him almost on its own, like it knew what to do. My hand grabbed his wrist, and as I pushed him back, power burst out of me. Cold light flashed.
He dropped. Mouth open, eyes glazed. No breath.
My whole body shook. I'd killed him—just by touching him. I didn't plan it. Not now, not ever.
"This is your gift… and your warning," the scythe's voice said, quieter now.
I knelt beside the man. Panic roared inside me. Could I bring him back, even for a moment? I focused, calling up the power. His body jumped, color flooding his face. He blinked, confused.
"What happened?" he croaked.
I swallowed, trying to sound calm. "Why did you attack me? Are you working for someone?"
He shook his head, tears in his eyes. "Needed money. Was hungry."
In seconds, he faded—gone for real.
All I could do was stare at my own hands—dirty, shaking, colder than before.
I stepped out of the alley. Night was falling. The city sounded normal, but inside, I was lost. I kept moving, walking until the noise helped me breathe again. At a park, I watched families and friends laughing together, feeling as far away from them as the moon.
I turned my demon-bone coin in my fingers. It was a stupid habit, but it calmed me. Heads. Good enough.
A message popped on my phone—first monster attack, same as I remembered. The Tower's nightmare was starting all over again.
I gripped the scythe tight. I'd need to be careful; I needed to learn these powers before anyone else noticed.
I thought about Liora—my old friend. I wanted to find her and keep her safe this time.
Later, I climbed up to a rooftop just to get a clear look at the city. The Tower loomed in the dark, waiting for me.
The scythe's voice was there in my mind, gentle now:
"Are you ready to begin, Zane?"
I didn't know. But I was here. And this time, I wasn't leaving the fight up to fate.
Tomorrow, I'd look for Liora. Tomorrow, I'd start my climb. I'd find out if being a Reaper could mean saving more than just myself.
To be continued.....