2025-08-11 00:50:13Jason Carter hadn’t slept. His body still ached from the surge of power that nearly tore him apart the night before. But the world didn’t pause for gods — not fallen ones, anyway.
The next morning, Chicago buzzed as usual, but something strange crept into the city’s rhythm. Headline news flashed across convenience store TVs: “UNKNOWN MAN HEALS DYING VAGRANT. IS IT DIVINE INTERVENTION?” “A man believed to be homeless touched a dying beggar near Dongdaemun. Witnesses claim the beggar immediately woke up, healthy and breathing normally. The identity of the healer remains unknown.” Another anchor chimed in: “Is it a miracle? Or meth hallucination? Medical officials have yet to verify the incident.” A T*****r thread titled “Chicago’s Real-Life Healer?” already had 200k likes. Others called it fake. Staged. Another PR trick from the rich. But no one could explain the boy who woke up glowing. Jason stood across the street, hoodie soaked, eyes fixed on the screen. A part of him still didn’t believe it either. “They’re talking about me,” he muttered. His reflection in the shop window looked almost… different. Paler skin. Eyes less tired. A faint golden pulse, barely visible beneath his collarbone. The system’s voice echoed again: “Divinity Resonance Increasing. Mastery of Will: 4%. Trial Two Progressing.” Jason dragged his feet away, mind spinning. He didn’t know where he was going. But his feet led him to a hospital. He entered a Public Hospital, Pediatric Wing Screams and beeping machines filled the hallway. He wasn’t sure why he came. Maybe he just wanted answers or maybe to see if what happened last night wasn’t a fluke. He wandered past a nurse’s desk until a voice cracked in desperation behind him. “Please! He’s burning up again! You said he’d improve!” a woman cried. Jason turned. A young mother held her son, no older than seven. His body was limp. Lips blue. IV bag swinging weakly beside them. A nurse shook her head. “He’s not responding. We’re transferring him upstairs. I’m sorry, ma’am.” “No. No, please!” she sobbed. Without thinking, Jason stepped forward. The mother noticed him. Her eyes bloodshot, full of wild desperation. The woman was busy crying; she barely even noticed Jae Hyun. Jason hesitated. What if it didn’t work? What if it made things worse? But his hands moved on their own. He knelt, pressing his palms gently on the child’s chest. Warmth surged. Not from his skin — from within. A glow lit beneath his fingers, soft at first, then steady. Nurses gasped. One dropped a clipboard. The child coughed, then drew a full, strong breath. “Micheal?” the mother choked out. The boy blinked. His color returned. He reached for her. A woman in the hallway dropped to her knees. “That… that was a miracle.” Another patient whispered, “He’s not normal…” Security rushed toward him. “Step away! Sir, back up now!” But Jason stood, slow and calm. His hands still glowed faintly. He turned to the mother and smiled faintly. “Take care of him” Jason smiled softly, though the mother was still frozen in awe. Then he disappeared down the corridor before security could catch up. Jason stepped out of the hospital, the echo of the child’s laughter still ringing in his ears. The world outside felt colder, sharper — like the moment right before a storm. People stared at him as if he’d just parted the sky. The System’s voice hummed faintly in his mind: Trial Two Approaches. Prepare to strike without lifting your hand. He frowned. “Strike without lifting my hand?” he muttered. A low chuckle came from behind. “Looks like you’ve still got that fire in you, Carter.” Jason turned. It was an older man in a brown leather jacket — William “Bill” Harris, a retired investigative reporter and one of the few people who hadn’t believed the Lee family’s lies. Bill had been quietly feeding Jason tidbits of information for months, though they’d barely spoken since the scandal. “I saw what you did in there,” Bill said. “Not just the healing. The control. You didn’t even flinch when those guards grabbed you.” He handed Jason a sealed envelope. “Thought you might want to see this.” Jason glanced inside. His pulse quickened — financial records, shell company transfers, and a string of emails connecting Brandon Lee to embezzlement and investor fraud. Bill lowered his voice. “The Lees are hosting an investor dinner next week. Big names. Big money. Brandon’s going to pitch a project that doesn’t exist. These,” he tapped the folder, “could bury him.” Jason tucked the envelope under his arm, his jaw tightening. “Then it’s time they learn what happens when they play games with a god.” The System chimed again: Trial Two Initiated — Mastery of Will. Public battlefield selected: The Investor’s Table. Jason didn’t smile, but there was a dangerous calm in his eyes as he walked away, the city lights reflecting off the thin golden circuitry now crawling just beneath his skin. *** Lee Family Mansion – Night Mr. Lee stared at his TV, remote forgotten in his hand. “Brandon,” he called. “Come here. Now.” Brandon entered, half-dressed. “What? Why do you—?” “That’s him,” Mr. Lee said, pointing at the paused screen. “That’s Jason Carter .” Brandon squinted. “No way. He looks… different.” “He’s healing people now?” Mr. Lee’s voice dropped. “How is that possible? I’m sure that fool is only playing some silly stunt” In the corner of the room, Mrs. Lee leaned against the wall. Her expression was unreadable. *** Emily Carter sat on her bed, the silence louder than her thoughts. Her body had been weak, her heart numb… but tonight, something pulsed beneath her skin. She pressed a hand to her stomach. A flicker. Gold. She gasped. “What’s happening inside me?” Emily Carter whispered. *** Two Weeks Ago Mrs. Lee stood in a candlelit room, facing a hooded figure. Rain tapped the glass. “We cannot allow the child to live,” she said coldly. “You know what he is. What he was.” “The God of Judgment,” the voice answered. “Then the child… will be worse.” “We’ll tell her it’s a miscarriage. She’ll believe it.” The figure nodded. “The heir must never return.” System Realm SYSTEM PROMPT: WARNING — DIVINE HEIR DETECTED. FETAL HEARTBEAT RESTORED. BLOODLINE AWAKENING: STAGE ONE INITIATED.
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The Price of Protection
Morning bled gray through the broken windows of the safehouse. The storm had passed, leaving a hush so complete that even the hum of the city seemed afraid to intrude.Jason sat at the edge of the couch, eyes half closed, one hand stretched over Emily’s sleeping form. The air around them shimmered faintly—threads of gold twisting like fine smoke, forming a translucent veil that pulsed in time with her heartbeat. Every pulse cost him.Each breath drew the warmth from his veins, a slow siphon that left his skin pale and his head aching. The System whispered inside his skull, cold and unyielding:[Protection Protocol Active: Shield of the Heir.][Energy Source: Divine Core.][Warning: Excessive strain will result in loss of function.]Jason ignored the warning. He adjusted the veil, watching its glow settle over Emily like soft dawn.A voice from the doorway broke the quiet. “You’ve looked better.”Bill leaned against the frame, holding a coffee mug and a folder stuffed with printe
Father and Heir
The rain hadn’t stopped since they fled the mansion. It hammered the windshield, washing the world into streaks of gray and gold. Bill kept both hands tight on the wheel, driving by instinct through backstreets no GPS remembered.In the back seat, Jason held Emily close. She drifted in and out of consciousness, her head on his shoulder, murmuring half-formed words that broke against the hum of the engine. Every time she stirred, Jason’s arm tightened, as though the smallest motion might steal her away again.“Where to now?” Bill asked at last, his voice raw.“Keep going,” Jason said. “Old district. Dockside. The warehouse by the tracks.”Bill glanced in the mirror. “That place? You said you’d burned it years ago.”“I lied.”Bill grunted. “Of course you did.”When the car finally rolled to a stop, the warehouse looked like every ghost story Bill had ever told—rusted gates, windows blind with grime, puddles that reflected only darkness. Jason pushed the door open, rain slappin
Warning from the Inquisitor
Smoke drifted through the ruined hall like ghost-light. The marble floor still glowed faintly with golden cracks where Jason’s power had scorched its memory. Silence lay over everything; even the chandeliers had stopped swaying, their crystals quivering in mid-air as if afraid to move.The Inquisitor knelt in that silence, his once-shimmering cloak now dull and torn. Silver runes flickered and died along its edges. Each breath rattled inside the hood.Jason stood before him, motionless, the gold fading from his eyes but not the fire behind them. Emily clung to the edge of a broken pillar, her face pale, her breath catching in soft, terrified gasps.Jason’s voice was low. “Speak. You came here to judge me. Judge yourself instead.”The Inquisitor lifted his head slowly. Beneath the hood, only shadow remained, but his voice had lost its arrogance; it was raw, human, almost weary.“You think this victory matters? You think this house was your battlefield? Fool. The moment you
Duel of Wills
For a heartbeat, time itself forgot how to move.Dust hung in the air like frozen rain. Every candle in the mansion dimmed to a trembling spark as Jason and the Inquisitor locked eyes.Power bled silently from both of them—Jason’s gold, the Inquisitor’s cold silver—filling the room with a shimmering haze that hummed against the skin. The guards who had survived the earlier chaos clutched their heads and fell where they stood, breath leaving them in quiet groans. Servants collapsed beside them. Even Mrs. Lee staggered, her hand gripping the banister as if the marble itself were tilting.Only Emily remained standing, though the air pressed against her chest like a mountain.“Jason…” Her voice broke. “What’s happening?”He didn’t look at her. His gaze never left the man beneath the hood.The Inquisitor’s tone rolled like a storm tide. “You can still stand under the weight of judgment. Impressive—for a fallen god.”Jason’s mouth curved in that dry half-smile that always meant dan
The Order of Silence
The hall fell into a silence so heavy it crushed the air from every chest.The cloaked figure stood like a shadow carved into stone. His very presence warped the light; lantern flames sputtered and bent toward him, as if afraid. The guards who had moments ago aimed rifles at Jason now pressed themselves back against the walls, rifles forgotten at their feet.Emily’s hands clutched Jason’s arm, her voice trembling. “Jason… please… who is he?”Jason didn’t answer. His eyes, burning faint gold, never left the figure.The man’s voice thundered, low and resonant. “Ar-Zekar.”The name cracked through the hall like a whip. Even Mrs. Lee, poised and cold, flinched as if the syllables carried weight older than stone.The figure continued, voice heavy with disdain. “It has been centuries since I last looked upon you. I did not expect to find you crawling in the dirt of mortals, parading as a husband, a servant, a nothing.”Jason tilted his head, his lips curving into a cold smirk. “Funny. You t
Guns Against a God
The marble hall vibrated with noise as armored guards stormed in, rifles raised, laser sights dotting Jason’s chest like a swarm of red insects.“On the ground!” the captain barked, his voice cracking with the weight of authority. “On the ground, now, or we fire!”Jason didn’t move. His body was loose, calm, hands folded behind his back as if the rifles aimed at him were nothing more than children pointing toy guns.He smirked faintly. “You sound nervous. Maybe you should lower your voice before it cracks again.”The captain stiffened, grip tightening on the trigger.From the staircase, Mr. Lee’s triumphant sneer echoed. “Do it. Shoot the dog where he stands.”Emily screamed, stumbling forward, tears streaking her cheeks. “NO! Don’t shoot him! Please!”Jason’s eyes softened for half a second at her voice, then hardened as he lifted his chin toward the guards. “Listen to me carefully. If you pull those triggers, your lives will unravel faster than your bullets can fly.”The head guard
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