Hope

Elijah sat in shock, the burning sensation on his hand still fresh in his mind. The emblem had appeared so suddenly, so violently, that he was left reeling, unsure of what had just happened. He had always dreamed of awakening, of becoming a Bellator like his parents, but he had long since abandoned those dreams. And yet, here it was—the mark of a Bellator, glowing faintly on his hand.

He stared at the symbol, tracing its intricate lines with his eyes, trying to make sense of it all. Slowly, as the adrenaline ebbed, Elijah's breathing steadied. He glanced at the watch again, still strapped to his wrist, and navigated back to the status screen. The excitement of his awakening was still fresh, but then his eyes fell on the line that read:

**Physical Condition:** Crippled

His heart sank. Despite the awakening, despite the emblem on his hand, his physical condition hadn't changed. He was still a cripple. Elijah's mind raced. What was the point of awakening if he couldn't even stand on his own two feet? If he remained bound by the same limitations as before?

But then, as he stared at the watch, something began to shift within him. The dark, depressed Elijah who had spent years trapped in a cycle of fear and despair slowly began to emerge from his shell. His mind, once dulled by hopelessness, began to clear, and he found himself thinking—analyzing.

He was a Bellator now. That had to mean something. If he had awakened, that meant he had potential. And potential, in the world of Bellatores, was everything. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way to heal himself. If he could make a formal request to the Wanderers' Union, perhaps they would provide him with a "Water of Life" potion. He had heard of it before—an incredibly rare and powerful elixir capable of healing any physical injuries, no matter how severe. Even lost limbs could be regenerated with it.

But Elijah knew the truth. The Water of Life was exorbitantly expensive, worth around 50 million Union credits. Even his parents, with all their wealth and power, could not have easily purchased such a potion. Why would the Union give something like that to him, a newly awakened Bellator with no accomplishments to his name? Would he be worth it in their eyes?

"Most likely not," he muttered, shaking his head. But then he paused, considering his options. He would have to register with the Wanderers' Union as a Bellator anyway—it was required by law. And if he did, he would receive a sum of 10,000 Union credits to help with his cultivation. It wasn't much, but it was a start. Perhaps he could use that to bargain with them, to prove his worth.

His mind set, Elijah wheeled himself to his desk and began drafting a formal email to the Wanderers' Union. He didn't need to go there personally—everything could be done online. The watch itself was proof of his awakening, as it was designed to detect and verify such things without fail. He linked his watch as proof and sent the registration email. A few seconds later, a notification appeared, indicating that he had received a reply and a transfer of funds to his account.

"This was kind of... underwhelming," Elijah said to himself. The process had been fast—too fast. He had built up the idea of awakening so much in his mind that he had expected more. But it was done, and now he was officially a registered Bellator.

The response email was polite and congratulatory. It welcomed him to the ranks of the Bellatores and included a few attached files. The first was a list of companies and groups he could join if he wished. The second was a small guide for new Bellatores, explaining the basics of life in the other world. The last was a list of warnings and rules set by the Wanderers' Union and the government to control—or more accurately, to keep—Bellatores from doing as they wished with their powers in the normal world.

Elijah skimmed through the files, but his mind was already on the next step. He opened a new email and began contacting every company and group on the list, explaining his situation and his need for a Water of Life potion. He offered to work for them and pay back the money in any way he could, and he ended the email by linking his watch again as proof of his awakening.

Elijah felt a small spark of hope rekindling with each email sent. The road ahead was uncertain, and the odds were stacked against him, but he had taken the first step. And for the first time in a long time, he believed that things could change.

Elijah sat back in his chair, his mind swirling with thoughts as he tried to recall everything his parents had taught him about the Bellatores. One thing stood out: every Bellator who awakened would gain a supernatural ability—a gift that came from deep within their soul, awakened by the emblem. But what was his ability?

He glanced back at his watch, hoping for answers.

Name: Elijah

Status: Awakened

Physical Condition: Crippled

Realm: (None)

Ability: ??????? (Level 1)

Soul Level: 1%

Strength: 3

Agility: 2

Endurance: 4

Ability: ??????? (Level 1)

Confusion crept in. What did it mean? Why couldn't he see the name of his ability? Why couldn't he feel it?

Instead of letting himself spiral into uncertainty, Elijah decided to consult the guide that had been sent to him by the Wanderers' Union. He opened the file and began reading.

The guide started slowly, providing a brief history of the emblem, when it first began to appear among the Bellatores, and how it had been studied over the centuries. As he read, Elijah felt a strange connection to the words, as if the history of the Bellatores was somehow entwined with his own.

Then, the guide began to explain the essence of a Bellator's ability.

[A Bellator's ability is something only he himself can know and use. It is a hidden potential, buried deep within, that the emblem helps to awaken. The watch will only show the basic stats—a detector of soul energy that calculates the numbers for convenience. But it cannot do more than that. The ability will be detected, and its level or energy rank will be indicated, but what it is and what it does will be up to you to figure out. This is a journey of self-discovery, one that each Bellator must undertake on their own.]

Elijah nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. He would have to figure this out by himself. As he continued reading, the guide provided further instructions on how to unlock and understand one's ability. It also included a basic cultivation technique—a method to connect with the soul and better understand the ability within.

Elijah read the cultivation technique several times, committing it to memory. The technique was simple yet profound, designed to help a Bellator sense and absorb the soul energy in the air, using the emblem as a conduit to awaken and nurture the soul.

Determined to try, Elijah wheeled himself to his bed, climbed on top, and sat down with his legs stretched out in front of him. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and began following the steps outlined in the technique.

The process was more difficult than he expected. He tried to clear his mind, to focus on the energy around him, but his thoughts kept drifting. The trauma, the fear, the uncertainty—all of it clouded his mind, making it impossible to concentrate. After several attempts, he opened his eyes in frustration, feeling like a failure.

But Elijah was nothing if not persistent. He closed his eyes again, took a deep breath, and tried once more. This time, he pushed everything else aside—the pain, the doubts, the fear—and focused solely on the energy around him. Slowly, he began to feel it—a faint, barely perceptible presence in the air, like the softest breeze against his skin.

He concentrated harder, using the emblem as a focal point, willing the energy to flow through him. At first, it resisted, but then, gradually, he felt it beginning to respond. The energy was drawn into him, passing through the emblem and into his body. It felt warm, almost comforting, like a gentle pulse that spread throughout his being.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, something shifted within him. A small orb of light formed in his abdomen, faint at first, but growing brighter as he focused on it. The orb had always been there, he realized—it was his soul, the core of his being, but he had never noticed it before.

As he concentrated on the orb, something remarkable happened. It was as if a floodgate had been opened, and a rush of memories—or perhaps instincts—poured into his mind. They weren't memories in the traditional sense, but rather a deep, primal understanding of something that had always been a part of him.

Elijah's ability.

Without fully understanding how, he instinctively knew what to do next. He waved his hand, and the glowing orb in his abdomen dimmed, its energy flowing outward and then, with a subtle flicker, a small figure began to emerge from the shadow of his bed.

The figure was about three feet tall, a black avatar of a person, its form shadowy and indistinct, yet solid. It stood there, its small head tilted up to look at Elijah. The figure had no discernible features—no eyes, no mouth, no expression—just a blank, shadowy form. But despite its lack of emotion or intelligence, Elijah could sense it waiting, ready to obey his command.

Elijah stared at the figure, a mixture of awe and disbelief washing over him. This was his ability, his supernatural gift. But what was it? What could it do? He didn't know yet, but for the first time in a long while, he felt something new stirring within him.

Hope.