Multiple Abilities

Omen awoke with a gasp, struggling to fill his lungs with air. The remnants of the battle flooded back to him, and he instinctively raised his white shirt to inspect his bandaged torso when he felt a sudden pain. What horrified him wasn't the wound itself or how he got it but the fact that even with his pain nullification he could still feel it gave him chills. How did everything go so wrong?

Looking around, he realized he was in a healing ward. Kol lay beside him, looking even worse, his body connected to various medical devices. The memories of the battle against the knight commander crashed over him like a tidal wave. The mission had ended in utter failure. Dahlia was freed, Virgo was dead and Kol was in such a critical condition that it didn't seem like he'd make it. They had neither captured the knight nor the egg; instead, they had destroyed it.

Lost in his thoughts, Omen barely noticed when the door swung open. To his surprise, Colonel Haelkrie entered, her fierce gaze locking onto him as she strode forward.

"You're awake, good! You have a lot of explaining to do," she began, her tone sharp and unyielding, not even bothering to take a seat. "Your squad openly harassed a citizen, and even though he revealed the objective's location, you were still unable to complete your mission, am I wrong?"

Omen's heart sank as she continued, "We tracked your squad immediately and saw the corpses of your squad leader, it seemed like the beast woman was destroyed as well."

"The mission failed, Colonel. What's going to happen next?" he asked, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. To his surprise, the colonel released a small smile, a flicker of something unexpected in her fierce demeanor.

"You passed," she said, her words hanging in the air like a lifeline amidst the wreckage of their mission.

Omen sat on the bed, shock coursing as he processed the colonel's words. He looked at her suspiciously, his heart racing. "Passed? What do you mean, 'passed'? we failed to capture the knight and lost members of our squad"

Colonel Haelkrie's expression remained impassive, her voice steady. "The mission was already out of your league in the first place. We only wanted you to find the knight's location and prevent contamination from the cursed egg."

"What!" Omen exclaimed, disbelief and anger flooding his veins. The colonel continued; her tone devoid of empathy.

"Even if the knight betrayed the kingdom, he's still one of us. Worse, he was only following the unborn dragon's orders. You see, nobody knows what species of dragon was in that egg you destroyed, but it could control the mind of anyone who touches it, forcing the captive to protect it with his life. To free the commander, the egg had to change ownership, and it was best if it was one of you."

"Once you were infected, our trackers were meant to take you out immediately, but we never thought your regenerative ability was so strong it could isolate the contamination. But worse, we never expected you to destroy the egg. That's why we tried to cause the explosion by giving you tampered gears, but we were already late. Regardless, we managed to rescue the fallen knight, and since that was what we wanted, you still passed. Now you're an official second brigade battleslave."

Omen breathed in anger, tampered gadgets! He'd always wondered why such a powerful kingdom would happily gift battle slaves weapons, Virgo must have known things about this as well, or at least a few things. Omen felt a cold calm wash over him as he concealed his hatred, forcing himself to maintain composure. He looked directly at the colonel; his voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of fury. "Why are you telling me all this, Colonel? Aren't you afraid that in my thirst for revenge, I'd try to kill you?"

Haelkrie held his gaze, her eyes unflinching. "You are merely a tool, and tools are replaceable. Still, you have potential, and I would prefer to have you on my team. Understand that you are not the first to feel manipulated, and you will not be the last."

"I didn't single-handedly orchestrate the downfall of your squad but I'm still one of the core figures. When you're all better I want you to be my disciple. During our travel from the slave city, I remember witnessing your potential in soul manipulation. Come to me and I'll train you and prepare you" She then looked at him with an excited smile "If you're strong enough by then I'll finally have a worthy person for my plans, I'll send someone to come find you when I feel you're good enough"

With that, she turned to leave, her footsteps echoing in the sterile room. Omen sat in silence, grappling with the weight of her words. As the door clicked shut, he sat for a while, letting out a maniacal laugh that echoed off the sterile walls of the ward.

'What was I expecting?' he mused bitterly. 'That everything would go as smoothly as I hoped? That our squad would continue going to the peak effortlessly? In the end, I'm still too weak!' Some part of him didn't like the way things went, this group of friends was the longest he'd stayed with, unlike Malek and Kiba. Still, the mission was a failure, and even when he thought himself powerful the knight commander had taken him down without stress.

The weight of his failure pressed down on him, a heavy shroud of despair. It had been quite a long time since Omen felt so humbled by failure, but this failed mission had taught him much more, he'd gotten so drunk by the limitless potential of his ability that he had neglected so many things. With a heavy heart, Omen calmly stood up, determination flickering within him despite the pain. He was about to take a step forward when a young lady walked in. She was dressed like one of the healers, her frantic expression contrasting sharply with the sterile calm of the ward.

"Why are you up!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of concern and authority. "Even though the colonel said you were ready, it doesn't mean you're free to just walk out! Now get back to your bed!"

Omen furrowed his brows, the woman was quite young, probably in her late twenties, but she had a fiery temper that reminded him of his sister back in Tenebris. "I'm well enough to leave," Omen said in mild annoyance. He had only recently hardened his resolve; none of these people mattered now. All that he needed was strength.

However, the nurse was oblivious to his thoughts or she didn't seem to care. "Get back on the bed this instant! You've been contaminated, and I don't know if it can spread. I'd prefer to be safe than sorry."

Her reasoning was sound. Even Omen was wary of the contamination himself. Moreover, the next step of his plan was to gain enough strength through the second brigade to then break out of his slave imprint…it wasn't the right time yet.

"Alright then," he agreed, laying down obediently on the bed, surprising the nurse. "What's your name, healer?"

The nurse squeezed her brows in suspicion. Most of the recruits only asked for her name when they wanted to hit on her, so she answered Omen emotionlessly, "Claire."

"You're lying," Omen said with a dashing smile but didn't press the topic further. "I must have been unconscious for some hours—"

"Three weeks," she interjected, cutting him off and greatly shocking Omen.

"Three weeks?" he echoed, disbelief coloring his tone as the healer soon continued,

"It took four days to track your team's location. Your life was extremely critical as well, but your regeneration managed to save you. Since you passed, all you have to do is meet your new commander tomorrow after I'm completely sure your contamination isn't contagious."

So Omen had to sit back and wait patiently against his will, he calmly watched as the healer tended to him when a sudden thought flashed through him.

'If I kill her, what ability would I gain. Afterall I might later need an ability to heal others, I still need to strengthen the foundation of the one I already have', Arael thought to himself before he suppressed his chaotic thoughts and sighed. The path was still long and tedious.

…..

Omen sat patiently on the seat as he watched the large female instructor. She pulled out a form and looked at him with disinterest. "Fill out the form and head down the corridor, and hurry up, your mates resumed weeks ago."

Omen looked down at the form. There were three blank spaces to fill up: name, elemental tier, and ability.

'I have multiple abilities, but I need to somehow get closer to Colonel Haelkrie. Then from there, I'd be relieved of my battleslave status and start killing all these hindrances off one by one.' He stared at the written ability under natural elements and ticked it.

Soul manipulation! He remembered gaining this ability during one of the purges in battle. Those times now felt so long ago.

The woman handed him a large travel handbag, which he carried effortlessly upstairs. He followed the map in his hands and finally found his room. Thankfully, it was just a single room of fifteen square meters. It was extremely small compared to the bunker in Brigade Three, the room only contained a single bed, wardrobe, desk, a single chair, and a window that could barely fit a toddler. Omen dropped the bag on the small bed that he was sure he wouldn't be using and entered the restroom.

'My abilities are quite inhuman the more I think about it. I don't even need this toilet because the only waste my body excretes is carbon dioxide. Even sweat isn't occasional.' Omen smiled as he finally went back out and opened the travel bag.

Inside, there were three pairs of clothes. Two were black with blue stripes; there wasn't any complex designation number as well. All that was written was the number S17. The last piece of clothing was the formal wear he had last time in the third brigade. He folded them all and kept them in the wardrobe. By the time he was done, he cleaned up the room and finally sat on the single chair.

'I need to craft out a plan. I don't know the situation on Tenebris, but I'm not yet strong enough to face a celestial, that much I'm aware of. I need to get stronger as well and find a way to leave this realm.'

Omen's chair creaked gently as he leaned forward, his sharp eyes wandering. The pale gleam of moonlight crept through the little aperture in the window, spreading lengthy shadows over the room. But omen paid it no heed.

"My base ability will be soul manipulation," he muttered under his breath as his fingers drummed softly on the armrest, the rhythm erratic as his thoughts spun. "Super strength, speed, durability, enhancement, and enhanced senses... all passive skills I can ignore. Even if the seal loosens, I need to reveal as little as possible until I'm strong enough to take on commanders and colonels."

He reclined back into the chair, crossing his legs. His mind sifted through the abilities he had already acquired, counting them off silently as if they were weapons in an ever-growing arsenal.

"Twenty-one passive abilities," he began, his voice emotionless, clinical. "Night vision, lie detection, tree walker, vibration sense, enhanced senses... physical attack immunity, mental attack immunity, enhanced durability." His eyes flickered in the dim light, pupils dilating as he recited as he searched through his soul. "Thermal sensing, iron lungs, super agility, underwater breathing... temporal immunity, precognition, limited retrocognition, instant self-regeneration." The list continued each ability etched into his mind like runes on a stone. "Life sensing, pain nullification, super strength, X-ray vision."

The silence thickened as he paused, running his fingers through his dark hair. He tapped the side of his head as his lips twisted into a slight smirk, but it was a hollow, joyless expression.

He moved on to his active abilities. "Twenty-eight active abilities," he murmured. "Exogene sensing, instant dash, instant navigation, ultra-vibration sensing, laser beam..." His voice grew quieter as he continued listing each one with the same cold precision. "Immobilization, sand phasing, instant drill, beast summoning, soul manipulation..." His fingers clenched briefly on the chair's armrest, knuckles whitening as if to steady himself. "Pyrokinesis, electrokinetic... imperceptive, matter solidification, willed death ink..."

Omen's breath caught for a moment, his mind flashing through the power and chaos each ability had brought him. "Water manipulation, enhanced physical strength, liquid skier, liquid walker, clairvoyance, enveloping dark mist, vine manipulation..." His voice was low now, almost a growl as his thoughts darkened. "Cloning, super speed, dream walking, body phasing, illusion creation, devil's aura."

The last ability rolled off his tongue like a curse. Silence followed, thick and suffocating. He breathed gently, his gaze lowering as he watched the shadows flicker across the floor. "Soon enough," he said calmly, "I will have more. I need at least a hundred before I find the perfect one... to unbind me from this damned slave status."

As dawn approached, Omen felt a sense of clarity wash over him.

It was time to evolve.