The night had fallen silent, the streets empty, save for the sound of Lucian's footsteps as he walked alone. His mind buzzed with the weight of his decision earlier—embracing the power, letting go of his humanity. Each step felt like an echo of that resolve, the mark on his chest burning brightly beneath his shirt, as though affirming his choice.
Lucian had thought the world would feel different after rejecting Seraphina's advice. He imagined there would be a sense of relief, freedom even, but instead, a gnawing tension churned in his gut. The power inside him was no longer a distant sensation; it was a constant hum, a dangerous presence that threatened to spill over at any moment.
He stopped for a moment at the corner of the alley near his apartment, feeling the pull of his thoughts toward the darker parts of the city. The shadows themselves seemed to whisper to him, urging him to step deeper into the darkness. Embrace your birthright, Lucian. It's time.
Suddenly, a sharp crack in the air shattered the silence. Lucian turned just as a figure appeared from the shadows, tall and imposing. The man was dressed in plain black, blending seamlessly with the night, his eyes glinting with a predatory focus. Lucian felt the presence before he saw him, a sudden weight pressing down on his chest. There was something wrong about the figure—something off.
The man took a step forward, his movements swift and calculated. Lucian's muscles tensed as he instinctively reached for the power inside him, feeling the mark on his chest flare in response.
"You're Lucian," the man said, his voice cold, professional—no sign of emotion. "You're the one we've been looking for."
Lucian's breath caught. He knew exactly who this was. The Order. He'd heard the rumors—whispers of an organization dedicated to eradicating demons, of people who would stop at nothing to rid the world of those like him.
"Who are you?" Lucian asked, his voice low, though there was an edge of uncertainty creeping in.
The man didn't answer at first. Instead, he took another step forward, his eyes locked on Lucian's. Lucian felt the temperature drop, a pressure building in the air between them, thick and suffocating.
"I'm here to make sure you don't destroy everything around you," the man replied, the words laced with disdain. "You're dangerous, Lucian. And you're not ready for what you've just unleashed."
Lucian's heart hammered in his chest. The man's confidence was unnerving, but what truly unsettled him was the strange, unfamiliar feeling—like an invisible barrier pressing against him. The Order wasn't just a rumor. They were real. And they were hunting him.
"Get out of my way," Lucian spat, his patience wearing thin. The anger that had been simmering beneath the surface since he embraced the power surged, and without thinking, he reached for it. His vision blurred as the world around him seemed to distort in response to the growing heat within him.
The scout smirked, seemingly unphased by Lucian's aggression. "So, it's true," he murmured. "You are one of them."
Before Lucian could react, the scout raised his hand, and the air seemed to crackle with energy. A flash of silver light shot toward Lucian, striking him square in the chest. The impact sent him stumbling back, but instead of feeling pain, Lucian felt the power surge within him. The mark on his chest flared violently, as though it were alive and feeding off the energy of the attack.
The power exploded from him in an uncontrolled burst, like a storm breaking free. The ground cracked beneath his feet, and the air itself seemed to split, ripping apart as his anger and fear ignited the power deep within him. A wave of fiery energy radiated outward, engulfing the alley in a maelstrom of flames and shadows.
The scout barely managed to dodge the blast, rolling to the side as the intense heat licked at his skin. Lucian, his breath ragged, felt something inside him snap, as if the dam that had been holding back the tide of power had finally broken. His emotions were a whirlwind—rage, confusion, fear—fueled by the dark force inside him. His body trembled with the effort of containing it, and yet, the more he tried to hold it in, the more it erupted.
"You think you can stop me?" Lucian shouted, his voice distorted by the intensity of the power flooding through him. "You don't understand... this is who I am. This is what I was born to be."
The scout's expression shifted. He dropped to a crouch, his hands forming a defensive posture. "You're not ready for this," he growled, his voice tight with warning.
But Lucian didn't hear him. His vision was clouded by the chaotic energy surrounding him, and all he could feel was the overwhelming need to unleash everything. With a roar, Lucian thrust his hands forward, and a massive wave of destructive force shot toward the scout.
The scout barely had time to react, raising his own hands in defense. A shimmering shield of light appeared in front of him, the impact of Lucian's blast sending a shockwave through the streets. The force of the explosion threw Lucian back, slamming him into the concrete wall of the alley. His body crumpled to the ground, his ears ringing from the impact.
As Lucian struggled to rise, his chest heaving with every breath, he saw the scout standing across from him, blood trickling from his lip, his eyes wide with surprise.
"How...?" the scout gasped, shaking his head in disbelief.
Lucian stood slowly, his limbs trembling. The adrenaline was wearing off, and with it, the brutal clarity of the power that had just consumed him. But in that moment, he didn't feel fear. Instead, there was a strange sense of satisfaction, as though the violence had been the release he so desperately needed.
"This is only the beginning," Lucian muttered, his voice dark with certainty. The power inside him, though uncontrollable, had proven its strength. And now, there was no turning back.
The scout, now visibly shaken, took a step back. "You're not ready," he repeated, but Lucian saw the hint of fear in his eyes.
With one final, deadly glance, Lucian turned away, his mind made up. No matter what the Order threw at him, he would not be stopped. This was his destiny—his birthright.
And he was done running from it.
The scout's body ached, bruised from the violent clash with Lucian, but his mind raced with more urgent thoughts. He had barely managed to escape the full brunt of the power that Lucian had unleashed, and the raw, uncontrollable energy still echoed in his senses. Despite the physical pain, the real damage was to his confidence. He had underestimated the half-demon. No, Lucian was more than that. He was a force—a threat unlike anything the Order had faced before.
Breathing heavily, the scout stumbled into the shadows, using the alleyways to hide his retreat. His mind whirled with the intensity of the confrontation. The raw power, the flames that had ignited around Lucian—it was too much for one man to handle alone. The force of the attack had nearly torn the city block apart. And though Lucian was left shaken, the mark on his chest had only seemed to grow stronger from the battle.
Father Gabriel will need to know about this immediately.
The scout gritted his teeth, pushing through the lingering dizziness, and made his way to the underground headquarters of the Order. The air inside was cool and sterile, a far cry from the burning chaos outside. As he approached the central chamber, he passed the ornate symbols of the Radiant Dawn on the stone walls—an ever-present reminder of their holy mission.
Father Gabriel was waiting for him.
The man was sitting at his desk, illuminated by the soft glow of candlelight, his sharp features tense with concentration. He looked up as the scout entered, his eyes narrowing as he took in the bloodstains on his clothes and the battered state of his subordinate.
"Report," Gabriel's voice was low and commanding, his tone filled with quiet authority.
The scout stood to attention, his breath still labored. "Lucian is more dangerous than we anticipated, Father. He... he unleashed his powers tonight. Completely out of control." He paused, swallowing hard. "The power is raw, chaotic... it feels like something ancient, something alive."
Gabriel's expression remained impassive, but his eyes darkened with concern. "Explain. What happened?"
The scout recounted the encounter, detailing the violence of the fight and the explosive surge of power that nearly destroyed the entire block. He spoke of how Lucian's mark had reacted, how it flared and pulsed, growing brighter with every surge of his emotions. The scout described how Lucian had barely seemed human when he was filled with that rage—a creature of darkness ready to unleash devastation.
"And yet," the scout added, "he still didn't seem fully aware of his own strength. He didn't control it. It controlled him."
Father Gabriel's fingers drummed on the wooden surface of his desk as he absorbed the information. After a long moment of silence, he finally spoke. "He is dangerous, yes. But he is also our responsibility." His voice softened, the burden of his duty apparent. "The Radiant Dawn cannot afford to let him go unchecked. If his powers continue to grow, we may not be able to stop him at all."
Gabriel's eyes flickered to the map on the wall, pinpointing Lucian's last known location. He leaned forward, his decision already forming in his mind. "I will mobilize a team. We can no longer wait for him to come to us. This threat is too real, too immediate. He needs to be contained."
The scout nodded, his body still sore from the fight but now filled with the cold clarity of the mission ahead. "What do you want us to do?"
Father Gabriel stood, his tall frame casting a long shadow across the room. "I will personally lead the team. We will track Lucian down and capture him before he fully succumbs to the darkness inside him. If we fail..." His voice trailed off for a moment before he straightened, his resolve hardening. "If we fail, there will be no saving him."
The scout watched as Gabriel walked to a hidden compartment in the far corner of the room. He retrieved a set of documents, each one detailing the capabilities of the Order's most elite operatives. Gabriel handed the scout one of the files.
"You will contact our specialists. We need precision, discretion, and above all, we need to contain him without alerting anyone to our presence. Lucian must be brought in quietly, before his powers spiral out of control. I'll assemble the rest of the team."
The evening air was thick with tension as Lucian made his way home, the events of the night still swirling in his mind. The encounter with the scout, his powers unleashed in a way he couldn't control—it was too much. He had felt the weight of his lineage pressing down on him, urging him to embrace it fully, but at the same time, a growing sense of dread gnawed at him.
He had been warned—by Seraphina, by his own instincts. The Order was coming for him. The question was not if, but when.
As Lucian turned the corner toward his apartment, he saw a shadow move in the distance, stepping out from the darkness. His heart skipped a beat. He knew who it was before she even spoke.
"Lucian," Seraphina's voice called, her tone firm but filled with a quiet urgency. She was standing at the end of the alley, bathed in the faint glow of the streetlight. Her eyes, intense and filled with something that felt too close to pity, locked onto him.
Lucian stopped in his tracks, his breath coming a little faster. The last time they had spoken, it had been in anger, and even now, he could feel the remnants of that conflict simmering beneath the surface. He didn't want to listen to her. He didn't want to hear any more about the Order, about how he was a danger to the world.
He wasn't one of them—he wasn't some victim to be saved.
"Why are you following me?" Lucian demanded, his voice cutting through the night air. His words were sharp, and defensive, the anger from earlier still lingering. "What do you want now?"
Seraphina stepped closer, her eyes narrowing slightly as she assessed him. "I'm not following you, Lucian. I'm trying to stop you from making a mistake you can't undo." Her gaze flickered to the mark on his chest, still faintly glowing. "You don't understand what's coming. The Order has mobilized—they're coming for you."
Lucian's body stiffened at the mention of the Order. He had feared this moment since the fight with the scout, but hearing it from her lips made it real. The weight of his decisions felt heavier now, the gravity of what he'd become settling into his bones like an old curse.
"They've already found me," Lucian muttered bitterly, clenching his fists. His power was still volatile, but he could already feel the change inside him—something darker, more powerful than anything he could control. "I don't need your warnings. I can handle them."
Seraphina took a step forward, her face softening with a touch of sympathy. "No, you can't. They won't just come for you. They'll come for anyone who gets in their way." Her tone was low, serious. "The Order isn't just a group of hunters. They're a force, Lucian, and they won't stop until they destroy everything connected to your bloodline."
For a moment, Lucian hesitated. The cold chill of fear ran through him, but he quickly suppressed it. His mind screamed at him not to trust her—after all, she had been nothing but a stranger until now. And what did she really want? Was she trying to save him, or was this all part of some celestial plan to control him?
"You expect me to believe that?" Lucian's voice was low, tinged with suspicion. "You think I don't see through this? You've been warning me about this power like it's some kind of disease I need to purge. But the truth is, you don't care about me. You care about keeping me under control, keeping me from becoming what I was meant to be."
Seraphina's eyes flashed, a brief moment of hurt passing over her face before she masked it with a stern expression. "It's not about control, Lucian. It's about survival. You're not some vessel to be filled with power. That power is a curse, and if you let it take over you, you will destroy everything around you. You won't just lose yourself—you'll lose the chance to be who you truly are."
Lucian's jaw clenched, his fists trembling as he fought against the growing fire in his chest. Her words rang with a truth he didn't want to accept. There was something deeply unsettling about the way she spoke—like she had seen this before, like she knew exactly what he was becoming.
"You don't know anything about me," Lucian spat, his tone bitter. He stepped toward her, his eyes blazing. "You don't know what I've been through, what I've felt. You don't get to decide what's best for me." He shook his head, turning his back to her. "I'm not your project, Seraphina."
Seraphina stood still, her eyes softening but still filled with quiet resolve. "Lucian, the Order won't stop with you. They will destroy anyone who stands in their way, and that includes the people you care about." Her voice was quiet now, almost pleading. "If you don't fight this, if you don't resist what you're becoming, you'll be their weapon. And the destruction will be on your hands."
Lucian's pulse quickened as her words sank in, but the anger in his chest refused to dissipate. He wasn't ready to hear this. He wasn't ready to be told what to do by someone who had only entered his life a few days ago, someone who didn't understand.
"I don't need your help," Lucian muttered, turning to walk away. "I'll take care of myself."
Seraphina hesitated for a moment, her expression torn, before she spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper. "I hope you don't regret this."
Lucian didn't look back as he walked away, his steps echoing in the stillness of the night. But her words lingered in his mind, gnawing at him like a splinter he couldn't remove. The Order. The power. His destiny.