Chapter 13

Smoke curled in ghostly tendrils above the shattered plaza, rising from the blackened husks of the monsters Jerry had barely defeated. Their bodies were twisted heaps of bone and charred flesh, remnants of something that once moved like predators but died like prey.

Jerry stood alone, his breath sharp and uneven. His jacket hung in tatters, blood smeared across his face and arms—some his own, most not. His knees trembled from exhaustion, but it wasn't the pain that shook him.

It was the vision.

That impossible vision that scorched itself behind his eyelids:

A sky torn open, bleeding shadows.

A throne of bone rising from a sea of writhing tendrils.

And a beast with a thousand eyes, all staring directly at him.

Then, his own reflection… shattering like glass.

"What the hell… was that?" Jerry whispered, clutching his head. "What am I turning into?"

A voice answered—low, calm, and far too close.

"Not what. Who."

Jerry spun, fists up, instinct igniting the monster still pulsing inside him. Black veins lit with flickering violet energy along his arm, eyes narrowing.

From the smoke stepped a man. Not monstrous. Not armed. Just… old.

Not in age, but in presence.

A heavy coat wrapped around him like a cloak, long and tattered at the edges. His face was weathered, lined with deep scars that told stories of battles long past. His eyes glowed faintly—not with power, but memory.

"You're him," Jerry said. "The one from my vision."

The man stopped a few feet away. "That wasn't a vision. It was a warning."

Jerry narrowed his eyes. "From who?"

The man looked skyward. "From what's coming."

Silence stretched, broken only by distant sirens approaching.

"You're not afraid of me," Jerry said cautiously. "Why?"

"Because I've been where you are." He stepped closer, voice steady. "I've been what you are."

Jerry blinked. "You're… Abyssborn?"

The man nodded. "The first. Or maybe the first to survive long enough to regret it."

Jerry's heart thundered. "You know what's happening to me."

"I know what you're becoming." His eyes darkened. "And I know what it costs."

The monster in Jerry stirred, sensing something ancient in the man's presence. Something worse than rage—wisdom.

"Then tell me," Jerry demanded. "Why me? Why this? That vision—what did it mean?"

The man's voice dropped low. "That sky? It's not metaphor. The cracks are real. Rifts. Tears between our world and the one that's been watching us for centuries."

Jerry's skin crawled.

"And the creature?"

"That thing with the eyes…" The man hesitated. "It's not from Earth. It's from beyond the Abyss. A thing older than death. Your transformation, the monsters, even Project Abyss—it's all just a ripple caused by that."

Jerry's mouth went dry. "So I'm just some pawn?"

"No." The man's expression sharpened. "You're a catalyst. A threat to the thing on the other side."

"Why?"

"Because if you survive what's coming… you might be able to kill it."

Jerry took a step back, jaw clenched. "Then help me."

"I will," the man said, turning away. "But not yet."

"Why not!?"

The man paused. "Because right now, you're still afraid of what you are. That fear keeps you sane. But one day… the hunger will be louder than the guilt. When that happens, find me. If you still want to be saved."

He stepped into the shadows—and vanished.

Jerry stood frozen. Not by fear… but by understanding.

He wasn't just changing. He was being prepared.

Far across the city, black SUVs screeched to a halt near the scorched crater where the battle had unfolded. Agents in tactical gear fanned out, scanning the destruction.

Among them, two men stood apart—one in a trench coat, the other in a crisp grey suit with a silver pin bearing a stylized "X."

Edward Xyros.

He crouched beside a dying thug, barely conscious and muttering nonsense.

"It… it wasn't human," the thug gasped. "It wore a boy's skin… but it had fangs. Eyes like void."

Edward's jaw tightened.

One of the agents leaned in. "Sir, there's no traceable DNA at the scene. Whatever did this… it cleaned up after itself."

Edward stood, adjusting his tie. "Send everything to Division Null. And double our surveillance at Blackridge High."

The next morning came like a punch to the chest.

Jerry dragged himself through the school gates, the weight of the past night pressing into every muscle. His hoodie covered the bruises. Sunglasses masked the shadows under his eyes. The world felt too bright, too normal.

Students chatted, laughed, moved around him like he wasn't there. But he wasn't one of them anymore. Not really.

Then he saw her.

Emily Xyros.

Hair in a loose braid, notebook hugged to her chest, smile soft as she waved.

Jerry's pulse stuttered. Somehow, she cut through the noise.

"Hey, Jerry," she said, walking beside him. "Rough night?"

He managed a chuckle. "You have no idea."

She tilted her head. "You okay?"

He looked at her—really looked. Her eyes weren't just kind. They were searching.

"I think I saw a monster last night," he said, half-joking.

Emily laughed, unaware how close he was to the truth.

"Welcome to Nova City," she said. "Monsters are kinda our thing."

They walked together, unaware of the drone floating high above them—Xyros Corp surveillance tech, locking onto Jerry's bio-signature.

As they entered the school doors, Jerry felt it again.

That presence.

Something watching.

Not with human eyes.

Not with mercy.

And whatever it was… it was getting closer.

(To be continued...)