THE UNSEEN VEIN-EDGAR

CHAPTER 1 A – THE HIT

Rain slammed the alley like it carried a personal grudge, but Edgar Holman didn’t have time to appreciate how miserable the night had become.

“Stay back!” Edgar shouted, stumbling as his shoe slid on wet concrete. “I don’t have anything”

“You’ve got a mouth,” the tallest thug barked, swinging a metal pipe over his shoulder. “And you’ve got debts. That’s enough.”

“I told you,” Edgar said, breath sharp, “I didn’t break your shipment on purpose!”

Another man laughed, harsh and mean. “Doesn’t matter what you meant. You cost us money, you pay us back.”

Edgar lifted his arms in a shaky guard. “With what? You’ve seen my bank account, it’s basically a ghost town.”

“Oh, we know,” the leader smirked. “That’s why tonight, you’re paying in bruises.”

Edgar swallowed hard. “This is insane.”

“Life’s insane, kid. Get used to it.”

The first punch came too fast. Edgar tried to duck, but pain exploded across his cheek and the world lurched sideways. “Stop, wait ”

He didn’t even finish before another blow slammed into his ribs. Edgar gasped. His legs gave out, and he hit the pavement on his knees. “This is pointless,” the leader said. “You’re weak. Hopeless. Why keep trying?”

“Because…” Edgar coughed, blood mixing with rain. “Because I don’t want to die in an alley.”

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve said all night,” the thug replied, raising the pipe.

Edgar squeezed his eyes shut, But a voice cut through the storm. “That will be quite enough.”

The pipe froze mid-swing. All three attackers turned. A lone figure stood at the alley’s mouth, umbrella held just so, like he wasn’t getting wet at all.

His posture was relaxed, but the air around him felt tight, pressurized, like the moment before lightning strikes. “Who the hell are you?” the thug demanded.

“A passerby,” the man answered. His voice was calm enough to make the rain sound panicked. “Leave the boy.”

“No chance,” another thug snorted. “He owes”

“You misunderstand,” the man interrupted gently. “You leave. Now.”

Edgar blinked through the blood in his eye. “Who…?”

The stranger stepped forward. That was all it took. The leader flinched like a dog hearing something humans weren’t meant to. “Forget this, go!” he shouted, grabbing his men.

They ran. Within seconds, Edgar was alone with the stranger and the storm. His vision blurred, but he forced out, “Are you… the police?”

“No.”

“Then… who?”

The man crouched beside him, his umbrella tilting to shield Edgar. “I am Master Shin.”

Edgar groaned, wincing. “That’s not a real name.”

“It is the only one you need for now.”

Edgar coughed, clutching his ribs. “Please tell me you can call an ambulance.”

Shin tilted his head. “An ambulance would arrive too late.”

Edgar froze. “…What?”

Shin placed two fingers against Edgar’s neck. A rush surged through Edgar’s body, warm, terrifying, electric. His pain flared white, then vanished so suddenly he gasped.

“What, what did you just do?” Edgar whispered.

“I did nothing,” Shin replied. “You healed yourself.”

“No. No, that’s impossible. People don't just, my ribs were broken!”

“And now they are not.”

“That doesn’t make sense!”

“Most truths do not,” Shin said calmly.

Edgar touched his side, trembling. No pain. No swelling. Nothing. “What’s happening to me?” Edgar whispered. “Why am I not dead?”

Shin stood, offering a hand. “Because something inside you awakened.”

“Awakened?” Edgar stared at him. “I don’t even exercise.”

“And yet,” Shin replied, “you possess something extremely rare. Something most never unlock even after decades of trying. Something even fewer survive.”

“Survive?” Edgar croaked. “I didn’t ask for any of this!”

“Power does not wait for permission.”

Edgar grabbed Shin’s offered hand. The world pulsed once, like a heartbeat made of light slammed through his bones. Shin’s eyes narrowed. “…Interesting.”

Edgar shivered. “Why do you keep saying that like I’m some science project?”

“Because the nature of your power is… unconventional.”

“I don’t feel powerful,” Edgar muttered. “I feel terrified.”

“That is appropriate,” Shin said. “Terror keeps the untrained alive.”

Edgar shook his head. “Look, thank you for saving me, but I’m just some delivery guy who tripped into someone else’s mess. I don’t have powers. I don’t have anything.”

Shin studied him in silence. “You believe that,” he said, “because the world taught you to believe it.”

Edgar stiffened. “Your life,” Shin continued, “the failures, the loneliness, the moments you called yourself useless, those were not your failings. They were signs.”

“Signs of what?” Edgar whispered.

“That you were meant for more.”

Edgar laughed weakly. “That sounds like something people say before they recruit you for a pyramid scheme.”

A corner of Shin’s mouth twitched. “This is no scheme.”

“Right. Because hallucinations caused by head trauma are totally different.”

Shin extended his hand again, not for Edgar to take, but as an instruction. “Stand.”

“I… I don’t think I can.”

“You can.”

Edgar hesitated, then pushed himself up. He managed three shaky inches before his legs buckled. Shin caught him easily, steadying him with one arm.

“That,” Shin said, “was your first act of control. Not perfect. But intentional.”

Edgar’s breath trembled. “Why are you helping me?”

“Because your awakening is not the beginning,” Shin said softly. “It is the return.”

Edgar’s pulse faltered. “Return of what?”

Shin met his gaze, and for the first time that night, Edgar saw something behind the man’s calm exterior, fear. “Abilities,” Shin said, “that should have died centuries ago.”