The night air hit Alaric like a wall. Cold, damp, and sharp. He ran without thinking, boots clattering against the wet pavement, head spinning. Every neon sign, every flickering streetlight seemed to pulse in sync with the strange rhythm in his chest.
"What… what is happening to me?" he whispered, clutching his arms as faint arcs of golden light danced along his veins.
A passing car honked. The headlights reflected off his skin — and for a second, the glow was brighter, almost visible to the driver. Alaric ducked into an alley, heart hammering.
He pressed a trembling hand to a metal railing. Sparks jumped, crackling faintly, startling a stray cat that bolted into the darkness.
"Okay… okay, stay calm. It's just… just energy," he muttered. "I can control it… I can—"
A streetlamp above him flickered violently and then went out entirely. Alaric yelped and jumped back.
"No… no, no, no!" he hissed. His fingers sizzled, tiny arcs snapping between them. His chest thumped like a war drum.
He sank against the wall, breathing hard. "Shepherd… Shepherd said this was destiny. He said I'd be different. But… this isn't… normal."
The wind rattled loose trash cans, carrying the faint smell of rain and oil. Alaric glanced down a side street, and a loose metal sign quivered, pulled slightly toward him as if drawn by some invisible force. His pulse raced.
"What… what is happening to me?" he whispered again.
A memory flashed — Shepherd's calm, gentle voice in the lab: "Stay with me. You're not dying. You're changing."
Alaric shivered. That was the moment. That moment of blinding light. And now… this.
He pushed himself to his feet. "I need… I need to get home."
---
The walk back through the city was disorienting. Every puddle reflected a distorted version of him — pale, singed hair, glowing veins under his sleeve, eyes wide and unblinking.
He passed a streetlight. It flickered violently, then steadied. His hand twitched, and the glow returned. "Damn it!" he whispered, snatching his sleeve over his arm.
People walked past him, oblivious. He envied them. Ignorance was a kind of safety.
Finally, he saw the familiar outline of his apartment building. Relief washed over him, weak and shaky. He climbed the steps two at a time, muttering under his breath, "Almost… almost there… just… home."
---
Inside, the apartment was dark but not empty.
"Alaric?" His mother's voice cracked, heavy with worry. "Alaric, is that you?"
He froze, chest tight. "Mom…"
"You scared me! Three days! Do you know what we've been through?" She rushed toward him, wrapping her arms around him. Her scrubs were damp from her long night shift.
"I… I'm okay, Mom," he said, though his voice wavered. He tried to return the hug, but the golden veins pulsing under his skin made his mother pause. Her hands hovered over his arms.
"Alaric… what's… what's wrong with you?" Her eyes widened slightly, catching the faint sparks flickering under his skin.
"It's nothing… really, nothing," he stammered, pulling back. "Just… tired."
She frowned. "Tired? You've been gone for three days! We didn't know if—" Her voice cracked. "We didn't know if you were alive!"
"I… I had some… trouble," he said, forcing a laugh. "Just… got lost."
She didn't buy it. Her eyes scanned him, landing on the faint golden glow peeking from his sleeve. "Alaric, what—"
"Mom, please. Just… don't worry." He ducked into the living room, pretending to sit, forcing himself to act normal.
She moved closer, voice trembling. "I can't… I can't just pretend nothing happened. You—You could've—"
"I know," he whispered. "I know. But I'm here. That's what matters, right?"
Her hands rested on his shoulders. "You're all that matters. But… Alaric… something about you… it's not right."
"I'm… just tired," he said again, though his chest thumped unnaturally fast. Sparks crackled faintly across his knuckles as he balled his hands into fists. He forced them down, shoving the sensation deep.
Mom's eyes softened. "Get some rest. We'll figure it out. We'll—"
He cut her off with a small, almost bitter smile. "Yeah. Rest."
---
Later, Alaric sat by the window, looking at the city lights. The hum inside him was steady now, pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat. Rain slicked streets glimmered below, neon signs reflecting off puddles.
He whispered, almost to himself:
"Shepherd… what did you do to me?"
A small spark leapt from his fingertip to the window pane, unnoticed by the people below. Golden light shimmered faintly beneath his skin, his heartbeat echoing like distant thunder.
The city had moved on. Everyone believed it was safe.
But Alaric knew… nothing would ever be the same