Awakened Elite

The pain slowly subsides, and I stand up.

The first thing I feel is the cold. Not the searing agony of the Marks carving themselves into my soul and flesh, no, that's already settled into something deeper, something that won't fade.

What I feel it the actual cold air against my skin, sharp and biting, because the top half of my robe is gone, burned away by whatever divine force decided to brand me like its prized animal. 

I flex my fingers, clenching and unclenching my fists, and even that feels different. My body isn't just stronger; it's more efficient. More precise. My heartbeat is steady, controlled, calculated. I inhale, and my lungs feel powerful, like I could run for hours and never get tired. When I take a deep breath, I can sense the exact shift in temperature, the subtle burn of incense still lingering in the chamber. 

Even the world around me looks clearer. The candlelight flickers, and I swear I can see each individual ember curling in the air before it vanishes. The quiet shuffling of the other kids I came here with echoes too loudly in my ears, like I could pinpoint the exact location of each one without even looking.

I wasn't just weak before. I was blind. Deaf. Practically a child.

And now? Now, I understand.

This is why Elites call themselves Gods.

Because compared to everyone else? They might as well be.

I shake my head to clear those thoughts. 

"What's gotten into me??"

I look around.

The other teenagers are sprawled across the chamber, but unlike me, they're not awakening to anything. They're just... there. Some unconscious, some curled in on themselves, shaking. A few sit upright, staring blankly at their own unmarked skin like they've just realized they'll never amount to anything. Because they won't.

Pathetic.

They went through all of that the light, the agony, the whispers in the dark and for what? Nothing. No Mark, no power, no future. Just another set of nameless faces to be tossed back into obscurity.

I almost laugh. All that praying, all that obedience to the great and holy Empire to the inquisitors and their damned religion, and look where it got you. You will all return to your regular lives while the Empire continues its oppressive rein of conquest on the rest of the world. 

I almost hate them too.

Then I notice their eyes. They're not looking at their own failures anymore. They're looking at me.

Wide, horrified stares, like I'm something they weren't meant to witness. Something unnatural. But laced into the horror is awe.

I don't need to guess why.

I glance down.

Three distinct brands have been burned into my skin: 

The first, just over my heart, a Möbius strip representing Veilshaper. The power to twist reality itself, to weave illusions so perfect they become truth to whoever is entrapped. 

The second, on my ribs, was a wolf, representing my power, Fearmonger. The ability to sense someone's deepest fear. The wolf represented something primal. I could feel the alien hunger deep in my bones.

And third, the simplest of them all, sits at the base of my sternum, a single unbroken ring, endless and absolute. Regenerator, A power that means no wound, no pain will be permanent. I may even escape death if not destroyed utterly and absolutely.

A chill runs through me, but it isn't from the cold this time.

Three Marks of power. 

I lift my head dazed, and that's when I see the Inquisitors.

They've removed their hoods.

It's the first time I've ever seen their faces since I arrived here, and I almost wish they'd left them covered. They're staring at me, their normal blank, stony expressions twisted into something else entirely.

Reverence.

Like they're looking at a prophecy fulfilled. Like I'm something Holy.

I swallow, nausea curling in my gut; my breath becomes ragged. The last few minutes have progressed too quickly, and it's all catching up to me. 

"Three Marks.

Not one, not two but three. What the fuck? 

I'm a freak. A monster. Something that shouldn't exist."

I can already feel the chains tightening around me, the invisible collar snapping shut. There's no running from this. No slipping into the shadows, no waiting for my chance to escape the Empire's grasp. They will never let me go. Not now. Not ever, not with the power I hold; they would rather kill me.

My pulse is hammering, my breath is still coming too fast, too shallow; I don't have enough air. The weight of it all is pressing down on me, but I force myself to look back up. And that's when I see them.

The Inquisitors.

Still unhooded, their faces twisted with reverence, their eyes alight with something that makes me want to puke. Worship. As if I'm some divine miracle they've been waiting for. Like I belong to them.

My hatred spikes so fast it burns.

Then I hear them.

The whispers. 

They seep into my skull like festering rot. They tell me deranged, vile things, secrets so deep they should have never been spoken aloud. But I know them now. I see them. I see their fear. 

Every human has shame, every human has terror, every human sins even ones who claim to be soldiers of the divine like the Inquisitors. 

I don't know how I do it. I don't even realize I've done anything until I hear a muffled curse. The Inquisitors stiffen all of them all at once, their breath shuddering, their hands twitching toward their chests like they're trying to claw away some unseen horror. One stumbles back, eyes wide and unfocused, staring at nothing. Another lets out a whimper, dropping to his knees. Their fear is spreading, twisting their minds to see things that are not there. The air like smoke, dragging them under...

"AYATO."

The single word cuts through the chaos like a blade.

Cain.

The moment shatters, and the illusions vanish like mist. The Inquisitors gasp like drowning men breaking the surface, still collapsed on the ground, their wide eyes locked onto me, still burning with that same reverence even after all I had just done to them.

I turn, sluggish and unsteady, and see Cain standing at the entrance of the sanctum. His usual smirk is gone, replaced by something else: concern, maybe even alarm. But my vision is already starting to blur at the edges, the world tilting beneath me.

My knees buckle.

Cain moves faster than my dazed mind can comprehend. In a single stride, he's there, wind whipping around him, his inhuman strength propelling him across the room in a second as he catches me before I can hit the cold marble floor.

I barely manage to keep my eyes open, but just before the darkness swallows me whole, I swear I see something flicker across his face. A glint of satisfaction. Gone in an instant.

Then everything fades to black.