2025-08-11 00:49:51Pain was the first thing he felt.
Not sharp, Just dull, like the kind that sat in your bones. Jason Carter groaned, sitting up from the cold floor. The air was damp and thick with mildew. Broken windows rattled in the wind. Rain dripped somewhere in the distance. An abandoned warehouse. He didn’t remember getting here. His shirt was gone. His skin felt… hot. He turned, glancing over his shoulder — and stopped breathing. There was something glowing across his back. There were Lines, Symbols and Script. Golden and ancient. Moving and Breathing with him. “What… the hell am I?” His fingers brushed the edge of a glowing line, but it vanished the moment he touched it. Then — that voice again. Calm, ancient. [SYSTEM: Welcome back, Ar-Zekar.] [Trial Two: Mastery of Will — Initiated.] [Observe. Judge. Begin.] He blinked. “Observe?” “You were a god of judgment,” the voice replied. “You don’t need a sword to destroy evil. Start small. See. Learn. Judge.” Later that night, the cold faded into neon shadows and cigarette smoke. The underground betting ring was hidden in a basement beneath an abandoned bar in Mapo. No signs, no cameras. Just money, men, and lies. Jason stepped through the curtain. The air smelled like sweat and alcohol. Dice clattered across tables. Voices roared. A man in a dirty suit was yelling at a dealer. Jason kept his head down and watched. Cards. Poker. Dice. Rigged roulette. He saw the signs. One player scratched his chin before bluffing. Another tapped his foot every time he held a winning hand. Another kept glancing to the left which was a silent signal to the host. “They’re all lying,” Jason muttered. But their bodies didn’t lie. Not to him. The first game was dice. Three men. One pot. He watched them. Said nothing. Let them laugh. “Fresh meat.” “Doesn’t look like he even has bus fare.” But then he rolled. Perfect win. Second game — poker. The dealer tried to slip him a rigged card. He caught it mid-air, smiled, handed it back. Won again. Crowd started forming. “Who is this guy?” “That’s three wins.” “He’s reading them like books.” He wasn’t sure how he knew. His body moved before his mind did. As if something ancient was guiding his thoughts, whispering between each breath. The host, a heavy-set man with a snake tattoo on his neck, stepped forward. He didn’t smile. “You win too much, you die too young,” he said coldly with a deadly half baked smile. “I’m just lucky,” Jason replied without blinking. The host slammed the table. “You think this is Gangnam Vegas?! The house always wins!” Someone in the crowd chuckled nervously. Another voice echoed from the stairs: “Let the poor bastard play. Beating him up too early’s no fun.” Jason ’s body stiffened. He knew that voice. Lee Brandon. Emily Carter ’s older brother. The same man who dragged him through a shopping mall like trash. Lee Brandon stepped into the light, followed by two thugs in designer jackets. He was dressed like money — all fake confidence and overcompensating swagger. The moment he saw Jason , he froze. Then grinned. “What’s this dog doing in my spot?” Jason said nothing. The host looked between them. “You two know each other?” Lee Brandon didn’t answer. He walked straight up to Jason , voice low. “You just can’t stop embarrassing yourself, can you? First my sister. Now you’re gambling with drug addicts? What’s next — begging in subway stations?” The crowd shifted uncomfortably. Jason didn’t flinch. “Are you still pretending to be innocent?” Lee Brandon sneered. Jason met his eyes. Voice calm, I mean Deadly calm. “One day, you’ll beg me to forgive you.” “And I won’t.” Lee Brandon scoffed. “You think just ‘cause you won a few games—” BOOM. The lights exploded. The entire basement went pitch black. People screamed. A wind swept through the underground room — where there should’ve been no wind at all. And in the dark… a pair of golden eyes blinked open. Soft at first. Then brighter. Electricity flickered around Jason ’s fingertips. His heartbeat thundered in his ears. His veins pulsed with something more. [SYSTEM: Emotional Surge Detected.] [Power Level: 2%. Warning: Interference from suppressed memory. Stabilize.] Jason gritted his teeth. “Not yet…” But the power didn’t listen. Lee Brandon stepped back, confused. “What the f—?!” The wind stopped. The lights flicked back on. Jason was standing still, chest heaving, eyes dimming. Everyone stared at him like he was a demon. No one spoke. Even the host looked uneasy. Jason turned and walked away. No one tried to stop him. Not this time. Outside, in the alley, he took a shaky breath. Looked at his hands. Electric sparks danced across his skin, fading quickly. But it was there. Real. He smiled as he felt powerful for the first time in a long while. “This… is just the beginning.” Far away, thunder rumbled.
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012
Washington D.C. – Federal CourthouseIt smelled like bleach, old paper, and the kind of authority that could crush a man without lifting a finger.Jason’s footsteps were slow and deliberate as he pushed the mop cart down the endless stretch of marble halls. The cart’s wheels gave a faint squeak every few steps, but otherwise, the building swallowed sound. His gray janitor’s uniform hung loose on his frame, his baseball cap shadowing his face. The laminated ID badge clipped to his chest gleamed under the fluorescent light — authentic enough to fool casual glances.The uniform was real. The badge was not.He reminded himself for the tenth time: This is infiltration, not vengeance. But the lie rang hollow in his own head.Because beneath the calm exterior, something inside him was already sharpening.Courtroom 3A loomed ahead. Jason slowed, pulse tightening. This was Hammond’s domain.Judge Malcolm Hammond — the man who had presided over Jason’s trial eighteen months ago.The man who had
011
Doctor’s Office – The Impossible Upper East Side – Private OB/GYN Clinic The walls were too white. Too quiet. Emily sat on the exam table in a backless gown, staring at the floor tiles like they could rearrange themselves into something that made sense. Her palms were clammy. Her heartbeat wasn’t steady. I can’t be pregnant. I can’t still be… Dr. Hendricks entered the room with a tablet in one hand and a look of professional confusion. Not concern. Just confusion. “Ms. Lee,” he said gently. “We just completed your scan.” Emily swallowed. “And?” He hesitated—just enough to make her breath catch. “You’re still pregnant.” Silence. “That’s not—” She gripped the paper sheet beneath her. “I lost it. Months ago. I—there was trauma. There was blood.” Dr. Hendricks tapped the screen. He rotated the tablet toward her. On the monitor was the ultrasound image. The usual grainy black-and-white blur, except… At the center pulsed something different. A glow. Faint, golden. Rhythmic.
010
Newark, New Jersey – Co-Working Space, 3rd FloorThe place still smelled like paint and ambition.Jason slid a new keycard into the lock of Suite 3B. The glass door clicked open. Inside: a few folding tables, unplugged monitors, an old coffee machine wheezing in the corner.“Not Olympus,” he muttered, “but it’ll do.”A soft ping from the System pulsed faintly in his ear.System Status: Temporal Stability – Level Green.Divine Threads Unspooling… Suggest Team Assembly.“Already on it,” Jason murmured.⸻Gabriel was first. Towering. Quiet. A face like carved stone.He didn’t speak right away—just nodded, dropped a duffel bag on the floor.“They said you died,” he finally said.“I got better,” Jason replied.Then came Jules—lanky, jittery, twirling a flash drive like a magician.“Okay, I heard rumors you tanked Wall Street and walked out of a fire. Either you’re insane or… I want in.”Jason raised an eyebrow. “How about both?”Last was Tammy. Mid-thirties. Soft smile. Wide eyes that shim
009
Downtown Chicago – Private Elevator, 77th FloorJason stood in the mirrored elevator, his hands in his coat pockets, staring at his reflection.There was something different about his eyes now, they were Sharper and Older.“Avery Cross,” he repeated under his breath.Tech mogul. Billionaire reclusive. Rose out of nowhere five years ago, just as certain digital currencies started vanishing without trace.The doors slid open with a soft chime.The penthouse looked nothing like what he expected. No chrome or minimalism. Instead it was silk drapes, velvet armchairs, and an odd warmth that didn’t feel like money. It felt… ancient.And then she stepped into view.The Goddess in Black SilkAvery Cross was stunning in a way that didn’t belong in this century. She wore a high-collared black silk blouse that clung like smoke, her jet-black hair tied back in a waterfall twist. No jewelry. No shoes.Just presence.She smiled like a cat who knew where every mouse was hiding.“You’ve caused a storm
008
Detroit – Midnight AlleyJason’s boots splashed through shallow puddles as he stalked down the alley. The city was a far cry from New York’s glossy skyscrapers—Detroit felt raw, like the bones of America were exposed here.Then he heard it.A scuffle.Gravel skidding. A voice gasping…. It was young, maybe seventeen.He turned the corner.Two men cornered a teen against a dumpster, knives drawn. One had a ski mask, the other wore a hoodie and a desperate grin.“Give me your fucking wallet now!”Jason didn’t speak. He moved gently.One kick shattered the first mugger’s kneecap. The second didn’t even see the elbow that dropped him.The teen bolted.Jason stood still, letting his breath settle. Blood pounded in his ears, not from exertion, but something else.The shift. The strange clarity that came right before the System spoke.But nothing came.Instead, from behind a stack of crates, a voice rasped:“You’re not like them. You reek of judgment.”He spun.A woman stepped forward, blindf
007
Lee Estate, HamptonsSunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the estate’s grand parlor, lighting up polished floors and tasteful art. But beauty did nothing to calm Catherine Lee’s rage.The crystal vase shattered against the far wall, spraying shards across the marble.“He humiliated us. In public. On camera. With cameras, Robert!”Mr. Lee barely blinked. He stood near the window, watching the waves crash beyond their sprawling lawn. Former U.S. ambassador. Billionaire entrepreneur. And now, a man watching his legacy unravel like cheap thread.“You think I don’t know that?” he said, voice low. “The board is panicking. Every hour, another investor pulls out. Half our portfolio’s frozen. The other half’s radioactive.”“Because of him! Because of you! You always coddled Brandon—”“Coddled? I warned him not to chase crypto hype with family money. He didn’t listen.”Catherine turned on him, red-faced. “Then why are you standing there like we can fix this?! He’s being rippe
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