A Scent of Evil

Liam's breath came in ragged gasps, his pulse pounding against his rib cage like a war drum. His fingers clenched and unclenched twitched in the aftershocks of the raw energy coursing through his veins. The fight had lasted only seconds, but he was shaken.

The shadows — they had obeyed him. For a brief moment, he had had dominion over them, wrapping Oris in a snake of shadow, landing a hit that had a veteran fighter staggered. It should have felt exhilarating, empowering.

But it wasn't.

It was terrifying.

"You are learning," Noctis's voice hummed in his mind, the sound steady and cold. "But you are still weak."

Liam breathed out, each breath a harsh white puff. All that remained in the alley was the faint wash of the city beyond. Oris was gone — gone like a ghost into the night, leaving behind more questions than answers.

"He wanted to see what you could do," Noctis added. "Measuring your strength. And he won't be the last."

Liam clenched his fists. That fight had not been a win. It had been a warning.

The hunters were watching.

And now they knew who he was.

Echoes of the Past

The walk home was a blur. Liam scarcely registered the passing streetlights, the flickering neon signs, the barren sidewalks. His brain was a storm, filled with conversations about his power, his doubt, about the darkness now dwelling inside him.

He made it back to his apartment — a small, one-room space with just enough room for a bed, a desk and a pile of unwashed clothes. He shut the door behind him, resting his forehead against the cold wood.

He was exhausted. His body was sore from the battle, but his mind…

His mind was worse.

Liam turned and sat down with his back against the door, looking at his hands. They had changed. He could feel it. It had roiled beneath his skin where he couldn't shake it— the power was still there.

"Rest is needed," Noctis replied. "But do not grow complacent."

Liam snorted, rubbing a hand through his wet hair. "I never thought shadows would talk this much."

Noctis chuckled, a low, knowing sound. "You'll see."

Liam was not so certain about that.

He pulled himself to his bed and fell on the mattress, sighing deeply, tired. The events of the night replayed in his head over and over.

Oris.

The shadow hunters.

The fight.

And the feeling — when he had finally found his power and he fought back. It had been… intoxicating. The darkness had responded to his call. And it had felt right.

That frightened him more than anything.

What was he becoming?

Sleep did not come easily.

The instant Liam's eyes shut, he was somewhere else.

The world was black — a limitless, oxygen-sucking void extending in every direction. The air is thick, heavy with dark matter.

Liam turned, but there was no one. No sky. No ground. Just the void.

Then a voice — his own voice — spoke from the darkness.

"Is this what you wanted?"

Liam stiffened. The voice was wrong. It was him, but it wasn't. It was warped, deeper, full of something… ravenous.

A figure materialized out of the darkness.

Himself.

But not himself.

The other Liam stood in drenched, writhing shadows, silver eyes bright as distant stars. His face had contorted into a smirk — derisive, cruel.

"The other you told you to ask for power," the other Liam said softly, moving closer. "And you got it."

Liam attempted to step backward, but the darkness held him in place.

"You believe that you are still human?" the figure sneered. "You think you can just … walk away from this?

Liam's chest tightened. No. This wasn't real. It was just a dream.

"Am I?" His shadow self grinned even wider. "Or am I simply the part of you that's beginning to wake up?"

Dark tendrils shot out from the figure, binding Liam's arms and legs with one wrap and tugging him forward. The shadow Liam drew near, too close, his breath a whisper.

"You are changing."

Liam inhaled sharply and was instantly dragged into the void—

And woke up gasping for air.

Liam sat up, his back soaked with sweat. His breathing was labored and his heart thumped against his ribs like a war drum."

Noctis's voice was calm. "You are beginning to see."

Liam swallowed and wiped the sweat from his forehead. His body still did not feel right; his muscles braced as if for battle.

"What … what the hell was that?" Liam asked, his voice hoarse.

"Just a reminder," Noctis said tersely. "That that power you have is not free. It will make you change the more you use it.'

Liam shivered. He did not want to consider what that meant.

But he also couldn't ignore it.

After a moment, he flung himself off the bed. The body was sore, but not weak. In fact, he felt stronger. Like some part of him had taken its place, adapted.

"Good," Noctis murmured. "Your body is adjusting. Now, it is time to train."

Liam sighed. "Can't I get a break?"

Noctis chuckled darkly. "You will find peace once you stop fearing what lies in the dark.

Liam rolled his eyes but knew Noctis was right deep down.

He had to digest this power.

He needed to control it.

Or it would control him.

LIAM WALKED to the empty lot on the edge of town. It was a perfect location — lonely, empty, neglected.

"Noctis, summon the darkness," Noctis said.

Liam took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He concentrated—felt the heaviness of the shadows around him, the chill of presence curling on the borders of his senses.

Then, he reached for it.

The darkness responded.

A tendril of shadow slithered up from under his feet and coiled around his wrist like a serpent.

Liam looked at it and opened his eyes.

It felt… natural.

He commanded it; the tendril stirred, reshaped at his will.

For the first time since this nightmare started… he wasn't frightened.

He was ready.

And the world was about to find out how dangerous he had become.