Ascension: The One Who Takes

A sliver of morning light cut through the blinds, casting faint golden streaks across the room. The air was still, heavy with silence, save for the rhythmic breathing that filled the space. Slowly, I stirred, my body adjusting to consciousness.

The moment my eyes opened, crimson irises gleamed in the dim light, piercing through the reflection in the full-length mirror across the room. I sat up, rolling my shoulders, feeling the power humming beneath my skin. Steady footsteps carried me toward the mirror, and I finally took in my own image.

White hair, short and unruly, crowned my head—chaotic yet controlled. My features were sharp, almost sculpted, with a pale complexion that only made my crimson eyes more striking. Lean muscle stretched over my frame, every fiber refined for strength. Power thrummed through me, unseen yet undeniable. I raised a hand, flexing my fingers, feeling the sheer force coursing through them.

A slow smirk formed.

This… this was the form of someone who would ascend.

I turned, my gaze shifting toward the adjacent room. The landlord's son. The power I had taken from him last night—it was time to see what it could do.

Slowly, I raised a hand, then clenched my fingers into a fist. A faint hum rippled through my body—energy, coiling within me like a beast waiting to be unleashed.

Then, I struck the air.

The force was instantaneous. The very space before me trembled as an invisible wave rippled outward, shattering the wooden chair in the corner into splinters. The impact wasn't just physical—I felt it siphon something from the world around me, absorbing the kinetic force and storing it deep within my being.

I flexed my fingers, feeling the lingering energy pulsing beneath my skin. A slow grin formed as I whispered to myself, I'll call it... Devourer's Touch.

A grin pulled at my lips. This was useful. Every attack I took, every blow aimed at me—it wouldn't just be endured. It would be fuel.

I pulled on a black long-sleeved shirt, gloves, and a coat, concealing the ominous presence I carried. The city awaited, and I had things to do.

Leaving the apartment, I moved through the streets, the morning crowd parting around me as if instinctively avoiding something they couldn't understand. Eventually, I entered a quiet café, taking a seat by the window.

The soft hum of conversation filled the air as I pulled out my phone, my fingers scrolling through the endless stream of information. News, names, locations. Pieces of a puzzle, waiting to be placed. I sipped the coffee placed before me, the bitter taste grounding me in the moment.

But I wasn't just idly browsing.

I was searching.

Mutants. Individuals with potential—those with power, but no direction. Some operated in the shadows, outcasts of society, ignored and discarded. Others moved within the system, unaware of the strength they possessed. I began compiling a list, selecting those who could serve a purpose. Power was only valuable in the right hands.

And mine were the right hands.

Soon, I would make my move.

Ascension continues.