Maldeth

Kai’s life was small—coffee-stained mornings, cracked recipes, and a system in his head that tweaked toasters and dough like it was nothing. Then the sky shattered. Aliens—Skraiths, jagged and brutal—invaded, tearing his city apart with green-glowing weapons and relentless claws. Superhumans rose to fight back, fire and lightning blazing through the chaos, but Kai’s world crumbled with them.
Hiding in his apartment, Kai stumbles on blood—human and alien, smeared on his wall after a superhuman battle. His system, once just a tinker’s tool, awakens, offering him a choice: mimic their powers, temporary and wild, through the blood itself. Desperate, he takes it—stealing pyrokinesis, then electrokinesis, then kinetic energy, each power burning through him, fading fast. But it’s not enough. Armed with a humming Skraith weapon and a body tougher from alien blood, Kai joins a ragtag crew of enhanced fighters—Liv, Rylan, Jace, and Tucker—scraping to survive in a warzone where every shadow hides death.
As Skraiths swarm and the city burns, Kai’s system pushes him deeper, analyzing, integrating, crafting minor enhancements—durability, strength, sparks of power that could make him a target or a savior. Government factions, rogue scientists, and the aliens themselves start sniffing around, drawn to his strange tech and blood-stolen abilities. By the time Kai crafts his first super-powered enhancement—an artificial strength boost—he’s no longer just a tinkerer. He’s on the edge of something bigger, something dangerous, where blood and sparks could forge a hero—or break him entirely.
In a world unraveling, Kai’s fight for survival becomes a desperate race to master his system, outrun the Skraiths, and confront the truth: the power he’s chasing might destroy him—or remake the world.

Blood and Sparks: The Edge of Power

<p>The tunnel stretched on, a jagged wound in the earth, its walls rough and unyielding under my scraped knuckles, the stone biting into my skin with every brush. My tank top was a shredded mess, the frayed edges catching on every protrusion, exposing the steel-like flesh beneath—scratched, dulled, holding at a fragile 12% integrity, my system's faint whisper a constant reminder of how close I was to breaking. </p>

<p>The air was cold, sharp with the tang of damp rock and something sour, like decay left to fester, clinging to the back of my throat with every ragged breath. Liv slumped against my side, her weight a steady pull, her breaths shallow and uneven, each one a faint wheeze that echoed off the stone. Her hand gripped mine, her palm sticky with dried blood, her fingers trembling, her sparks long extinguished, leaving only the ghost of her warmth to keep me grounded.</p>

Shadows of the Lost