System Awakening: Rise Of Thomas Walker

Three hundred years ago, a strange portal opened in a small town called Greystone. Different kinds of monsters were seen crawling out of it.

Some of the monsters were built for destruction while others were friendly with humans. Over time, these bonds birthed half human, half monster offspring.

As the deadliest creatures slipped into the shadows, a prophecy foretold that Greystone's people would one day rise to match their power and  they did.

Through strange means, humans began to wake powers of their own, turning the tide in a war that never truly ended.

The narrow street of greystone alley was filled with an early morning light. The mist covered the whole area which made it look as if the entire town of greystone were still asleep.

The air smells like coal smoke coming from different shops and from a distance you could hear the church bell ringing.

Thomas Walker, a seventeen year old teenager who was putting on a coat, was dashing down the alley with his heavy boots. His hair was bouncing as he ran down the alley.

"Damn it all, I'm running late!" He muttered under his breath, not for school but for the blacksmith's errand he had promised to run before morning bell at the Church, a duty he had no wish to repeat. Mr Brighton was not a man known for his patience.

He maneuvered through the vegetable carts and startled housewives, shouting hurried apologies.

"Beg your pardon! So sorry, ma'am...watch your potatoes, sir!"

There was no carriage fare for the likes of Thomas. Not with his father gone to sea and his mother still recovering from her third fever in two years. Every penny mattered.

As he turned into a shadowy fork behind barrow lane, just behind the tailor's workshop, a sharp voice rang out like the crack of thunder.

"Well, well, if it isn't little tommy walker. Or should I say, "Thomas the timid?" A teenage boy named Duke Hargrave said.

Duke, whose very name was filled with cruelty, stood as he leaned against a gas lamp, arms folded across his barrel chest.

He was seventeen like Thomas but thickly built, with broad shoulders that could be seen through his wool coat and dark eyes that were filled with mischief and menace. His smile was like that of a fox.

Three boys stood behind him silently, eager to follow their leadership command.

Thomas halted, not out of fear. Though there was plenty of that but because he knew how these encounters usually went.

Duke, for reasons unknown to all but the devil himself, had taken great pleasure in humiliating him since they were twelve. And Thomas, even the bookish lad with dreams of better things, had never found the right time or strength to fight back.

"Step aside, duke," Thomas said as he held his coat firmly. "I'm in no mood this morning."

"In no mood Hun?" Duke echoed, mockingly, taking a slow step forward.

"Oh dear, lads, did you hear that? Walker's in no mood! Maybe we ought to offer him a cushion and a spot of tea while he sulks off like a kicked pup."

The other boys laughed but Thomas didn't move. "I don't have time for this today, Duke. I said, let me pass." Thomas said gently.

"Or what?" Duke raised a brow. "You'll report me to your father?" Duke said in a cold tone.

"No, I'll do something I should have done years ago." Thomas said.

Duke blinked, as he smirked darkly.

Thomas didn't wait for permission. He swung his fist from his shoulder and struck Duke hard across the chest. The blow wasn't that strong and not particularly damaging but it was enough to knock the wind from Duke for a half second.

Duke stumbled back, surprised. A silence fell over the alley. "You little bastard," Duke growled, eyes blazing now with anger.

Thomas didn't wait to see what came next. He turned and bolted down the alley

But Duke looked more like a fighter and before Thomas could get to the end of the street, he felt a hand drag the back of his coat. He stumbled and fell to the ground.

Duke stands above him now, panting, his lips curled. "You dare raise a hand at me?me?" Duke said angrily.

Thomas was trying to stand up but Duke shoved him down again, he used his boot to hit his ribs. Thomas shouted in pain as he coughed and gasped for air.

"Should've kept your head down, tommy boy. No one wants to hear from the boy who takes to books and dreams of London streets." Duke said.

Thomas tried to speak but couldn't find breath. Duke bent low and grabbed him by the collar, and whispered into his ear. "You're nothing, Walker. And no punch, no clever words, no damn drama is going to change that." Duke said with a dark tone.

Then he threw Thomas backwards, his head striking the base of the alley wall with a loud thud.

Blood rushed down from his head. His vision was blurry and couldn't stand properly.

Duke stood up and dusted his hands then turned away. "Let's go lads, leave the rat to his thoughts." Duke said.

Duke and his guys walked off laughing while Thomas lay still, his eyes almost closed.

And yet despite the pain, through the humiliation, he smiled. Because for the first time, he had struck back.

And Duke has stumbled, even if it was just for a moment. He would remember that moment and that he could fight back.

That afternoon, long after the town had moved on, Thomas limped home through the back paths. His ribs ached, his forehead was bandaged with a torn sleeve. "I'll get you Duke, you gonna pay soon for what you did to me" he said quietly.

One day, Duke Hargrave will answer for everything, and on that day....it would not be fist or punch, but something far greater.