Battle Lines

The air in the room feels heavier, suffocating almost. I grip the lamp tighter, though it feels ridiculous against the presence of the man standing in front of me. He looks calm, like he's waiting for me to piece something together.

"The Corrupted Priest," I repeat, my voice flat. "You keep saying that like I'm supposed to know what it means."

His smirk fades, replaced by something colder. "You really have no idea, do you?"

"No," I snap, my frustration bubbling over. "One minute I'm trying to survive the first day at a new school, and the next, I've got glowing weapons and strangers trying to kill me. So no, I don't have a clue what's going on!"

He raises his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, take it easy. I'll explain, but you're not going to like it."

I lower the lamp but keep it close. "Try me."

He leans against the wall, crossing his arms. "Sacred Gears. They're powerful artifacts created by the God of the Bible, scattered across humanity. They grant abilities to their wielders—some subtle, some… not so much. The thing in you? The Corrupted Priest? It's a Sacred Gear, but it's not like the others."

"Why not?"

He tilts his head, studying me. "Because it was never supposed to exist. It's a mutation, a twisted version of something holy. Its power is dangerous, unstable, and it corrupts its wielder over time. That's why people like me are sent to deal with it."

"Deal with it?" I repeat, my grip tightening on the lamp. "What does that mean?"

"It means," he says slowly, "that if you lose control, I'll have to stop you. Permanently."

The weight of his words settles in, and I feel the blood drain from my face. "You're saying this thing… it's going to turn me into a monster?"

"Not necessarily," he says, though his tone isn't reassuring. "But it's already bonded with you, and now you're stuck with it. Whether you survive or not depends on how well you handle what's coming."

"What's coming?"

He pushes off the wall, his expression grim. "War. Conflict. Call it what you want, but you're on everyone's radar now. Devils, angels, fallen—they'll all want a piece of you. Some to use you, others to destroy you."

My stomach turns. "Why me? I didn't ask for this."

"Nobody asks for a Sacred Gear," he says simply. "But that doesn't change the fact that you have it. And if you don't start learning how to use it, you won't last long."

The room falls silent as his words sink in. My chest feels tight, my thoughts spiraling. I want to scream, to punch something, but none of that will change the situation.

"Who are you?" I ask finally.

He gives me a small, almost approving smile. "Call me Cain. Let's just say I'm… familiar with people like you."

"People like me?"

He nods. "Wielders of Sacred Gears. I've been tracking them for a long time, and yours is one of the more… unique cases I've seen."

"That doesn't make me feel better," I mutter.

"It shouldn't," he says bluntly. "But if you want to survive, I can help."

I hesitate, the weight of his offer hanging in the air. "Why would you help me?"

"Because if you go rogue, it'll cause a hell of a lot more problems for everyone. Besides," he adds with a shrug, "you're not the only one with enemies."

Before I can respond, the sound of shattering glass cuts through the room. I whirl around to see the window explode inward, shards flying everywhere.

"Get down!" Cain shouts, shoving me aside as a dark figure crashes into the room.

The thing—it's not human—lands in a crouch, its glowing red eyes locking onto me. Its body is cloaked in black, with jagged wings sprouting from its back.

"Fallen Angel," Cain growls, drawing a knife from his belt.

The creature snarls, its voice a rasping hiss. "Give us the boy, Cain. You know he doesn't belong in this world."

Cain steps between us, his stance tense. "He's under my protection."

"Protection?" The Fallen Angel laughs, a harsh, grating sound. "You can barely protect yourself."

It lunges, faster than I can process, but Cain meets it head-on. The clash is brutal, the room shaking with the force of their blows. Cain moves like a predator, his knife flashing in the dim light, but the Fallen Angel is relentless, its claws tearing through furniture and walls.

"Get out of here!" Cain shouts over his shoulder.

But I can't move. My body is frozen, my mind racing. Then I feel it—that same burning sensation from the rooftop. The pressure in my chest builds, and before I know it, the staff materializes in my hand.

The Fallen Angel's head snaps toward me, its red eyes narrowing. "There it is. The corruption."

It dives for me, and I react without thinking. The staff hums to life, green energy crackling along its length. I swing it with everything I've got, and the impact sends the creature crashing into the wall.

Cain glances back, his expression a mix of surprise and approval. "Not bad, kid. Keep it up."

The Fallen Angel snarls, shaking off the blow, and charges again. This time, I'm ready. The staff moves like it has a mind of its own, blocking and countering its attacks. Each strike sends a pulse of energy through my body, the corruption surging to the surface.

For a moment, it feels… good. Too good.

"Don't lose control!" Cain barks, slicing into the Fallen Angel's wing.

I grit my teeth, focusing on the fight. The staff glows brighter, the runes shifting and twisting as I land a solid blow to the creature's chest. It screeches, black ichor spilling onto the floor.

Finally, it staggers back, its wings folding around itself like a shield. "This isn't over," it hisses, its voice dripping with venom. "The boy's fate is sealed."

With that, it vanishes, leaving the room in ruins.

I collapse onto the floor, the staff fading from my grip. My whole body trembles, and my breaths come in ragged gasps.

Cain stands over me, wiping the black blood from his knife. "You did better than I expected," he says.

"That's… not saying much," I manage to gasp.

He chuckles, but there's no humor in it. "Get used to it. This is your life now."

I look up at him, my chest tightening. "What the hell am I supposed to do?"

Cain's expression hardens. "Survive. And if you're smart, you'll listen to me. Because the next time something comes for you, it won't stop until you're dead."

I nod, too drained to argue.