Part Two — The Rise of Dammy
Deacon never sleeps. It just changes moods.
By day it's loud, golden, and full of lies.
By night, it's honest — all the broken things crawl out where no one can judge them.
That night, Emrys — or what was left of Dammy — walked through the city like a storm given shape. His aura burned cold, cutting through the rain. He could feel everything — the pulse of electricity in the wires, the fear in the air, the heartbeat of strangers.
Power had changed him. But it hadn't healed him.
He still remembered the faces. The ones who laughed when he was silent. The ones who used him, ignored him, betrayed him, and walked away like it was nothing.
He used to care. Now he didn't.
Now, he only cared about one thing — control.
He stood at the edge of Deacon's old bridge, staring at the water below. The wind brushed against him, carrying whispers — faint voices that didn't belong to the living. He didn't know how, but he understood them. They spoke of balance, chaos, and destiny.
"Emrys," the voice inside him spoke again. Calm. Confident.
"You feel it, don't you?"
He nodded slightly. "Yeah."
"You've broken your limits. But Deacon… Deacon is more than streets and buildings. This city was built on something older. Something watching."
"Then I'll make it watch me," Emrys said quietly.
A soft laugh echoed in his mind. "You already have."
He turned around. Three men stood behind him — cloaked, faces hidden. Their presence warped the air. They weren't ordinary.
"Emrys of Deacon," one of them said, voice deep and distorted. "We've been expecting you."
He raised a brow. "And who exactly are you?"
"The Order of Veil," another replied. "We guard the thin line between worlds. Your awakening disturbed it."
Emrys smirked faintly. "So I'm supposed to apologize for being alive?"
"No," the first said, stepping forward. "You're supposed to understand what you've become. Power like yours attracts things that crawl beyond the veil."
He folded his arms. "Good. Let them crawl."
The second cloaked figure spoke softly. "You misunderstand. They won't crawl to serve you… they'll crawl to consume you."
Lightning flashed across the bridge. When it faded, the three men were gone. Only the echo of their warning remained.
Emrys stood still, the rain running down his face, eyes glowing faintly silver. He could feel it now — a shift in the air. The city was holding its breath.
Behind him, shadows began to move. Not people. Not creatures. Shadows themselves — bending, twisting, taking form.
Something whispered his name.
"Emrys…"
The voice came from everywhere and nowhere at once. Deep. Ancient. Hungry.
He clenched his fist, feeling the cold power pulse through his veins. "If you came to take me," he said, "you're already too late."
The shadows lunged. The air cracked. He moved like lightning, every motion precise and merciless. The first shadow reached him — he grabbed it by the throat, and it screamed soundlessly as his aura burned through it like frostfire.
The second came from behind — he turned, eyes flashing, and the air around him exploded outward. The bridge shook. Cars in the distance swerved as the ground cracked beneath his feet.
When the storm settled, silence returned. The shadows were gone, scattered into dust.
He looked at his hands — faint trails of light still pulsing through his veins like rivers of power.
But what caught his attention wasn't his strength… it was his reflection in the broken glass beside him.
It wasn't just Emrys staring back. It was Dammy — the boy he used to be — faint, almost gone, but still there.
For the first time, Emrys didn't feel anger. He felt… balance.
He realized something: he hadn't killed Dammy. He'd evolved him.
The world hadn't created Emrys. Dammy had.
Every heartbreak, every betrayal, every silent night of trying to matter — it had all led here.
He closed his eyes, whispering to himself,
"I'm not just a villain. I'm the consequence."
Thunder answered him like applause.
When he opened his eyes again, the silver glow had deepened, darker, sharper — a mirror of his intent.
He turned toward the city skyline, lights flickering across the horizon. Somewhere out there, people were sleeping peacefully, unaware that the balance had already shifted.
Deacon would soon belong to someone new.
And this time, it wouldn't be the boy they ignored.
It would be Emrys — the rise they never saw coming.