Erel woke up when sunlight hit his face through the blinds. He'd forgotten to close them again. He rolled over and squinted at his phone - 8:30 AM.
He sat up and rubbed his eyes. His hair was sticking up everywhere and his mouth was dry. The Bluebeard plane yesterday had been exhausting. At least he'd made it out alive.
His apartment was quiet except for someone's TV next door and cars passing outside. He got up and walked to the kitchen, bare feet on the cold floor.
Water in the kettle, coffee grounds in the press. While he waited for the water to boil, he opened the window. The morning air was cool and carried the smell of exhaust and food from the diner down the street.
When the kettle whistled, he poured the hot water over the grounds and watched them bubble up. The rich coffee smell filled the small kitchen. He waited a few minutes, then pressed down the plunger and poured himself a mug.
The coffee was hot and bitter. He took it to the chair by the window and sat down, holding the warm mug in both hands.
Outside, people were walking to work. A woman jogged past with earbuds in. An old guy across the street was watering plants on his balcony. Normal morning stuff.
Despite all the chaos, people still adapt.
Erel drank his coffee and thought about yesterday. The Bluebeard plane had been a nightmare, but he'd survived. Maybe it was time to stop running from what he was and actually use his abilities properly. Actually, try to make a difference for once.
Lyra had been right when she'd told him to first get accustomed to his abilities, to get accustomed to combat. He'd been avoiding his powers for years now, ever since his parents died. But that wasn't going to bring them back, and it sure wasn't going to keep him alive in places like yesterday.
He should check his soul chamber. He hadn't been there in years - not since the day he'd first become an anomalite. That felt like a lifetime ago now.
He finished his coffee and set the mug down. Leaning back in the chair, he closed his eyes and felt for that tingling sensation in his head. The Imaginarium was always there, humming quietly in the background. He focused on it and let it pull him in.
The world shifted.
He was standing in his soul chamber. The place looked exactly the same as the day Ouroboros had first integrated with him - black marble walls rising to a domed ceiling, three thick pillars in the center. Everything polished smooth and reflecting light that seemed to come from nowhere.
The dome had a massive stone snake carved around it. The Ouroboros wrapped around three times, its head almost touching its tail but not quite. There was still a gap, maybe six inches wide.
Still Tier One. But close to Tier Two.
Each pillar represented one of the three foundations of anomalite power. He walked to the first one and read the flowing script carved into the stone.
"In the hour of ending, sight blooms eternal.
Death whispers its secrets to those who listen,
And time bends before the will to rewrite fate."
His essence ability - Cycle of Rebirth. Essence abilities were the active powers, the ones that required conscious effort and drained Flux from his essence core. His single core sat near his heart, fragile and still developing. When he used his ability, he could see his own death before it happened, experience every detail, then change his actions to avoid that fate.
The second pillar hummed with constant energy.
"The serpent knows before knowing,
Feels danger in the turning of the world.
Body and spirit move as one."
Eternal Survivor - his mythic ability. These were the passive traits that came from his connection to the Ouroboros myth. They didn't require activation, just ran in the background constantly. Enhanced reflexes, danger sense, improved healing. The unconscious manifestations of mythic resonance that kept him alive without him having to think about it.
The third pillar seemed to ripple, stone flowing like water.
"Form follows function, function follows will.
The serpent's skin protects the faithful,
Strength born of change."
Adaptive Ouroboros - his fragment ability. The tattoo below his ear was a physical anchor for his mythic connection. Fragments were the markings or objects that bonded permanently to your body. His could migrate across his skin and create scale-like armor wherever he needed protection.
At the far end of the chamber stood a sealed door. Its own Ouroboros carving was frozen in the same almost-complete circle as the dome above. The door that barred him from the fruits of tier 2. The difference in tiers was abysmal, apart from providing more essence by forming an extra core, each tier added one ability to each of the pillars, thus making the gap between tier 1 and tier 2 measurable both by efficiency and effectiveness.
Just need to reach Tier Two. The second core will develop automatically when I ascend.
The last time he'd stood here, he'd just become an anomalite after going through the deadly trial in his consciousness, the trial that finally proved he was worthy. The integration process had been brutal, feeling Ouroboros sink its mythic hooks into his soul, reshaping him from the inside out. His parents had been proud.
Then they'd died, just three days later, and he'd stopped coming here.
The chamber started to fade as his concentration wavered. He was back in his apartment, sitting in the lumpy chair with an empty coffee mug getting cold in his hands.
His phone was buzzing on the desk. Text from Lyra asking him to visit her.
Erel knocked on Lyra's apartment door, still feeling the lingering effects of visiting his soul chamber. The elevator ride up to the fifteenth floor had given him time to think about what he'd seen - that gap in the Ouroboros getting smaller, the sealed door waiting to be opened.
"It's open," came Lyra's voice from inside.
He pushed the door open and found her sitting at her kitchen table, cleaning what looked like throwing knives. Small black feathers were scattered across the surface - remnants from her fragment ability. She looked up when he entered.
"You look different," she said, setting down one of the knives. "More focused."
"I went to my soul chamber this morning." Erel sat down across from her. "First time in years."
Lyra's eyebrows rose slightly. "And?"
"I'm close to Tier Two. Really close. The Ouroboros is almost complete."
She leaned back in her chair, studying him. "Good. That means what I'm about to suggest won't sound completely insane." She gestured to the map spread out on the table beside her weapons. "We're leaving Seoul."
Erel blinked. "What?"
"For a few months. Maybe longer, depending on how fast you progress." Lyra pointed to areas marked in red on the map. "Borderlands and Breach Zones. Places where entities spawn regularly and the Concordat pays good money for cleanup work."
"You want us to become hunters?"
"I want you to get combat experience and enough Flux to push you into Tier Two as fast as possible." Her amber eyes caught the light strangely. "Yesterday's plane should have made it clear - you can't keep avoiding what you are. Not if you want to survive."
Erel looked at the map. Red zones dotted the Korean peninsula and extended into neighboring areas. "The city authorities will let us leave?"
"Seoul's a sovereign zone, but it's not a prison. Anomalites come and go all the time for Concordat business." She picked up another knife, checking its edge. "Besides, I have contacts who can smooth the paperwork."
"And you think killing entities will help me advance?"
"Combat pushes essence cores harder than anything else. Plus, you need to get comfortable using your abilities under pressure." Lyra set the knife down and looked at him directly. "But before we go anywhere, you need to make a decision about your fragment."
"What kind of decision?"
"Most fragments develop weapon capabilities when anomalites reach Tier Two or Three. Since planes don't allow you to bring in any equipment except what's part of your abilities, your fragment becomes your primary weapon." She gestured to her own shoulder, where Erel knew her three spirals were hidden under her shirt. "What weapon do you want to train with?"
Erel touched the spot below his ear where his Ouroboros tattoo rested. "I... hadn't really thought about it."
"Start thinking. I'm experienced with throwing knives and daggers, so I can help you with blade work. Based on your abilities and the way you move, I'd recommend something like a sword. Maybe a grass cutter - good reach, versatile, fits your abilities."
"A sword." Erel tried to picture it. "That seems..."
It made sense, even if the idea of carrying a sword felt surreal. "How long do we have to decide?"
"We leave next week. That gives you time to get your affairs in order." Lyra paused, her expression softening slightly. "You should visit Rae before we go."
Erel's chest tightened at the mention of his childhood friend. "Should I tell her about the plane? About what's been happening?"
Lyra was quiet for a moment, studying his face. "That's up to you to decide."
"What would you do?"
"I'd tell her." Lyra's voice was firm. "Lies have a way of coming back when you least expect them. And if something happens to you out there..." She didn't finish the sentence.
Erel nodded slowly. The thought of lying to Rae about where he was going, about what he was becoming, felt wrong. But the thought of telling her the truth felt terrifying.
"When do we leave?"
"Next Monday. Early morning." Lyra began gathering her knives, the conversation apparently over.
Erel stood up, but hesitated at the door. "Lyra? Why are you doing this? Really?"
She paused in her cleaning, not looking at him. "Because I failed your parents. I won't fail you."
Before he could respond, she continued. "Go see Rae. Then start preparing. We've got a lot of work ahead of us."