chi - the source of the supernatural

A lone chandelier swayed gently above, casting dim light across the center of the room. The only other illumination came from the glow of Peter's open doorways - strange arcs of space flickering at the edge of the walls.

Chike sat still, wrapped in silence, his clothes, torn and still caked with dried blood and dirt. A rancid smell clung to him now - his sweat, fear, and survival all festering on his skin. He could smell himself, and it only made the weight in his chest heavier.

"You need to get stronger."

Edward's words echoed in his mind. And Peters outburst still rang like a slap across the face. But neither of them had said anything he didn't know already.

There was no going back.

Half the people he loved were gone. The house he'd called home was rubble. And now he was here- sitting with two strangers who'd become fugitives, daring to question the world like he did. And seemingly holding the power to do so.

"Chaotic" was too small a word to describe the past few few days. He'd gone through hell - killed, barely clinging to life. And from what he'd heard, this was only the beginning.

He had describe the masked man who called down 'lightening' on their house. Edward recognized him instantly. The local priest.

It hadnt been a random strike. It was a ritual - meant to wipe away contamination. To purge the home of 'evil', if any member of the family was possessed.

If anyone would know where Emma was, it was the priest.

Ofor checked on the boy from time to time - subtle pulse of awareness flowing through him - quiet, efficient. Every time, the answer was the same: 'he's alive.' if the boy was dead the spirit would have sense him easier. That was enough for now.

Chike no longer dreamed of clearing his name. What did that matter in a world built on lies?

He just wanted to save his cousin. And maybe…just maybe, fix things with Victor. Their relationship already seemed beyond repair. He didn't also know what life would look like after that - but that was a problem for his future self.

For now, he had only one goal.

"I need to get stronger."

He'd once used rage as fuel to grow his power. He'd felt a surge of power after killing that man. He'd embrace it. But now? Now he knew better.

Edward was serious when he warned that the use of gifts shortens one life.

How long did he have left? Would he burn out before he could even save Emma?

There has to be another way, he told himself. There has to be an aperture. His thoughts was directed to the spirit within him. But it was still in silent malice with him. It stayed quiet.

Unwitting he leaned toward Edward, ready to speak. A thousand questions tumbled in his mind, crashing into each other, rising like a tide. But before he could speak, a sharp foul odor filled the air.

Edward turned to him, deadpan. 'You need to shower first."

Chike blinked. Of course.

The bathroom was unexpectedly large - another gift from Peter's doorway magic. He wondered how they are fugitives with this much luxury at their finger tips. One door led to a stream. Another brought fresh soaps. It was surreal, but the water was cold and real, cleansing his body.

He scrubbed harder than he'd ever done before. Not just to rid himself of dirt - but to feel human again.

When he emerged, a clean set of clothes awaited him. He slipped them on slowly, each movement strange, unfamiliar. A quiet fire burned in the hearth now. Edward sat beside it.

Chike approached and lowered himself to the ground.

Peter hummed quietly, still focused on his task.

The old man turned to him, eyes sharp and calm.

"Let me teach you to be stronger."

Peter mumbled over the old mans fondness of the boy…it probably because he reminds him of his younger self. Or Edward sees in him his son - a chance to imbued him with what he need to know.

Then--

There was a deadpan silence between all three of them - so quiet that if a spoon dropped, its echo would ring like thunder.

The air thickened.

His danger sense kicked.

Chike felt it immediately. Breathing became harder, like trying to inhale through soaked cloth. Panic prickled beneath his skin. He turned his head sluggishly toward the old man. To see if he was affected too.

Edward was smirking.

"This," he said almost casually, "is one way to use chi - manipulating the elements within a fixed space."

The heaviness suddenly lifted.

Chike clutched his chest, still reeling from the invisible pressure that had nearly crushed him. Sweat lined his forehead. His eyes darted back to Edward, who now wore the calm of experience revealing a trick.

"But you'll have to get to my level first," Edward added with a faint shrug.

He leaned closer, his tone soft but probing, "You've been using it, haven't you? The chi"

Chike hesitated. "The what?"

"That energy you felt during your fights…when you lost control. When your rage seemed to ignite something inside. That was chi. The raw kind."

"I felt….something," Chike admitted. "When I focuused, it burned inside me. Like heat…pushing outward."

Edward mused from what he'd seen from the boys fight he should have at-least spent over half his life- force to deal with the 3 experienced Militia sent his way. But somehow his vitality was stronger. A mystery he himself couldn't explain.

He simply nodded. "Exactly. That's raw chi. Untamed. Wild. And extremely dangerous. That heat? That's your life force - burning itself to feed your power."

Chike swallowed.

Edward continued, "Chi originates from your spiritual core. Every living thing has one. The essence of who you are - your 'chi' - flows from it. But Chi's true nature is defiant. It resists control. Left unchecked, it grows stronger….and more volatile."

Chike was now completely drawn in.

"So why don't people use it? Why doesn't everyone feel it? The boy knew the answer to these questions before he asked them, but witty experience had taught him to expect detailed answers from the old man.

"Because it's sealed," Edward replied. "Most people never feel their Chi because it's been bound or destroyed. That's what the first Baptism does - it severs your nerve thread."

"the what."

"The spiritual pathway," Edward said. "A network running from your soul, through your entire being. That's where chi flows. But the first Baptism - cuts it from your spiritual core - the second destroys what remains of it."

 Chike chest tightened. A chill passed through him.

He had almost gone through both. Scaling the first one by incredible luck - now the second by being a criminal.

He was silent, processing. Another thought quickly crossed his mind - one he couldn't ignore.

"The Faith Militia…they all had both baptisms. How are they still able to use gifts? Is there a different way to use it without been connected to ones spiritual core?"

The old man mused, he'd been aware of the boys high intellect, but seeing it work gave him chills of joy.

He then smiled sadly. "The Baptism aren't the only part of the control system. Tell me why do you think there's a near 20 year gap between the first and second?"

Chike glanced at his hands.

He didn't have an answer.

"The teachings of the faith," Edward said, answering himself. "Obedience. Submission. Absolute reverence. These are all core concepts of the Faith that are drilled into people all through out their lives, more heavily in the first year to young adults. Subconsciously training them to reject defiance - so after the first cuts off the nerve thread, the mind is then trained to reject any form of doubt with would lead to a re-suturing of chi to the spiritual core."

Chike looked up slowly. The weight of Edwards words settled heavily on his shoulders. But it still didn't explain why Faith Militia can use gifts.

"Sometimes a mistake is made, weather is a failed Baptism process - very rare. Or a person having more than one nerve thread attached to his core. Or any system of doubt that spawn defiance before the second baptism, reconnects their spiritual core making it nearly impossible to be destroyed by the second. These individuals are those you know today as Faith Militia." the old man gave a weak laugh.

Chike too dazed in the irony. It was indeed the original doubters that are trained to hunt the profane and criminals. Now he only had one more question.

"How does he use Chi without it killing him?