The air in the command center was surgically clean, a sterile contrast to the filth and decay of the streets. It smelled of ozone and recycled air, a scent Kwandezi would have found amusingly ironic. For Aisha, it was the suffocating stench of a system built on lies. She stood before a holographic display, the grainy footage of the previous night's incident playing on a loop. Her face was bruised, her protective gear scorched, and her mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Her partner, Kaito, stood beside her, his face a grim mask of fear and righteous anger.
The Veil leadership sat in a semi-circle of obsidian chairs, their faces obscured by the dim lighting of the room. A single, powerful voice, smooth and cold as polished stone, addressed them.
"Operative Aisha. Operative Kaito. You were assigned to a simple tier-one containment. Explain the complete systemic failure and the subsequent unclassified energy signature that was detected across three continents."
Aisha opened her mouth, but Kaito cut her off, his voice raw with indignation. "Sir, it wasn't our fault. We were ambushed by an unclassified tier-one, a ghost of a thing. We had no chance. But then, a civilian… a kid… he saved us."
"A civilian with a power signature that rivals a Scion of the Founding Families," the cold voice replied. "Explain his abilities. Explain how he vanished from the site, and why you failed to contain him."
Kaito stammered, his bravado crumbling under the weight of the interrogation. "He… he just disappeared. The monster... he touched it, and it just… vanished. Then there was this wave of energy, and he was just gone."
Aisha knew he was lying. He hadn't seen Kwandezi simply disappear. He had seen him walk away, turning his back on them as if they were nothing more than a minor annoyance. But that was a truth Kaito was not prepared to tell.
"He used his ability," Aisha said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. "He's a Banisher. He used a form of Integration to absorb the monster's essence. And he has a pendant… the sigil of the Six Founding Families."
A low murmur rippled through the shadowed faces of the leadership. The concept of a banished Scion was a dirty secret, a stain on their proud heritage. A Scion with a power of that magnitude was unheard of. They had all felt the tremor when Kwandezi used his ability, a signature that had shaken the very foundations of their world.
"That's impossible," a new voice spat, sharp and venomous. "Integration is a ritual, not an ability. It requires immense training and sacrifice. A boy cannot simply 'integrate' a monster. You're lying to cover your failure, Operative."
Aisha knew she had to convince them. She had to make them understand. She closed her eyes, and the memories of the previous night flooded her mind. The brutal, chaotic beauty of his fighting style, the cynical amusement in his eyes, and the sheer, unadulterated pain she had felt through her Empathic Resonance.
"I felt him," she said, her voice a plea. "I felt his grief. He's not a monster. He's a child. A child who was abandoned by his family. He's running from something… something inside of him."
The room fell into a heavy silence. For a moment, she thought she had reached them. But then, the cold voice returned. "Operative. Your emotional state is compromising your judgment. The data speaks for itself. The energy signature we felt was a threat. We cannot afford to have a Scion with an untamed, unregistered ability running loose. He is an asset... a very dangerous one. He must be found and contained. You and Operative Kaito will be reassigned to the containment team."
Aisha's heart sank. They hadn't heard a word she said. They only saw a weapon.
Meanwhile, Kwandezi moved through the underbelly of the city like a living shadow. The night air was thick and heavy, and every breath felt like a curse. The power within him was a constant, low thrum, a vibration that made his teeth ache and his muscles feel like they were about to tear from his bones. He knew he was being hunted. He could feel it. The Veil was like a second skin to him; he knew their every move, every tactic, every blind spot. He was faster, smarter, and a thousand times more deadly. He was a predator in a world of prey, and he would not be caught.
But there was a new predator now, one that was sleeping inside of him. The Void Host. It was a presence, a cold, hungry thing that sat at the back of his mind, waiting for a chance to take control. He could feel it now, the subtle stirrings of its hatred, the whispers of its desire to lash out and destroy.
He had to get away from the city. He had to find a place to hide, a place where he could try to understand this new reality. He found a derelict, abandoned church on the outskirts of the city. The stained glass windows were shattered, and the stone floor was covered in dust and debris, but it was secluded and quiet. He found a small, hidden room in the back and collapsed onto the cold stone floor, exhausted.
He closed his eyes and tried to push it away, this new reality. But he couldn't. He was a vessel, a host for the very power that he had spent his life trying to eradicate. The monster he had just killed was now a part of him, a constant, low hum of malevolence that lived in his bones. It wanted out. It wanted to consume. It wanted to be a god.
He felt the Void Host stir, and a cold dread filled him. He had to fight it. He had to maintain control. He focused all his will on pushing the darkness back, but the Void Host was stronger. It was a storm of raw, unadulterated power, and he was just a small ship in its path.
He felt his skin crawl, the familiar sensation of his body changing, the skin on the left side of his face tightening and pulling as the muscles beneath shifted. He felt his teeth sharpen, his nails elongate, and the low hum in his bones grow into a high, piercing shriek. He was losing. He was losing control.
"No," he whispered, a desperate plea. "Not now. Not here."
He remembered Aisha's face, her eyes filled with a terrifying mix of pity and fear. He remembered the feeling of her "Empathic Resonance," the way she had felt his pain. He remembered the anger he had felt at being understood, at being seen as something more than just a tool. It was a hateful thought, a feeling of rage so pure it almost brought the Void Host back to the surface. But it was his rage. It was a human emotion. And for a moment, it was enough.
He fought back. He pushed the darkness down, burying it deep inside him. It would never be gone. It would always be a part of him. But for now, he had control. He was still Kwandezi. He was still human. But he knew it was only a matter of time. He was alone in a world that wanted to use him, and his greatest enemy was now his own body. He had to figure out how to live with this power. And he had to do it before the Veil found him.