I didn't think. I didn't strategize. I did the only thing a rational person does when facing a demon dog the size of a Honda Civic.
I ran.
I spun on my heel and bolted back the way I came, my sneakers slapping against the cracked pavement.
THUD-THUD-THUD.
Behind me, heavy claws tore into the earth.
The Hell-Hound wasn't just chasing me; it was playing with me. I could hear its wet, raspy breathing getting closer.
"Help!" I screamed, my voice cracking.
"Someone! Fire! Police! Avengers! Anyone!"
Sector 4 was empty. My voice just echoed off the hollow buildings, mocking me.
I vaulted over a fallen concrete pillar—parkour moves I didn't know I had—but my backpack snagged on a rusted rebar.
RRRIP.
The strap snapped. I stumbled forward, losing my balance.
"No, no, no—"
My foot caught a loose brick. The world tilted.
I slammed into the ground hard. My elbows skidded on the gravel, tearing skin. I scrambled to turn onto my back, breathless, terrified.
The Hell-Hound was already in the air.
It was a terrifying silhouette against the sun, jaws open wide enough to fit my entire head.
I could smell its breath—rotten meat and sulfur.
I squeezed my eyes shut and threw my hands up in front of my face, screaming.
"GET AWAY!"
My left wrist—the one with the metal clamp—slammed violently against a jagged rock as I flailed.
CRACK.
The dial on the bracelet spun wildly from the impact. It clicked into place.
< INPUT CONFIRMED. >
< AVATAR: AGNI. >
< TRANSFORMATION START. >
Time seemed to stop.
The fear in my chest vanished, replaced by something else. Something hot.
It felt like I had just swallowed a lit match, but instead of burning my throat, the heat rushed into my veins. My blood turned into lava.
WHOOSH.
A pillar of orange light exploded from my body, blasting the Hell-Hound backward in mid-air.
I opened my eyes.
The world was tinted orange. I looked at my hands. They weren't flesh-colored anymore. My skin had turned into a deep, charcoal grey, cracking like cooling magma. Inside the cracks, molten gold light pulsed.
I looked up. I couldn't see my hair, but I could hear it. It sounded like a campfire. My hair had turned into a flowing mane of pure fire.
"What the..." My voice sounded different. Deeper. Distorted, like I was speaking through a furnace.
The Hell-Hound landed on its feet, shaking its head. It looked at me, confused. It growled, but this time, it hesitated.
I scrambled to stand up. I felt light. Incredibly powerful. And incredibly hot.
"Okay," I stammered, looking at my flaming hands. "I'm a candle. I'm a human candle."
The Hound decided it didn't care. It roared and charged again, faster this time.
Panic returned instantly.
"Stay back!" I shrieked, thrusting my palms forward instinctively.
I expected nothing. Maybe a spark.
BOOM.
A concentrated beam of fire, thick as a tree trunk, erupted from my palms. The recoil was so strong it launched me backward into a wall.
CRASH.
I slid down the wall, dazed. "Ow."
I looked forward. The street was on fire. The rubble was on fire. The Hell-Hound... was nowhere to be seen.
Wait. I squinted.
There was a black scorch mark on the pavement where the dog used to be. And a few feet away, a small, glowing red stone (a monster core) rolled to a stop.
"I... I vaporized it?"
I stared at my hands again. The flames were dancing beautifully. It was terrifying. It was exhilarating. I felt like I could punch a hole in a skyscraper.
"Is this... the power of a God?" I whispered, feeling a grin creep onto my charcoal face.
< WARNING: TIME LIMIT REACHED. >
< BATTERY LOW. >
"Wait, what?"
< EJECTING. >
HISSSSS.
The heat vanished instantly. The strength left my body like water draining from a tub.
I collapsed to my knees, gasping for air. My skin returned to its normal tan color. The fire on my head winked out. I was back to being Aryan. Just a sweaty, exhausted teenager in a torn school uniform.
The bracelet on my wrist was smoking. It looked dull and lifeless again. A small red light blinked on the side.
I lay on the ground, staring up at the sky. My heart was hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.
"I need to tell Rohan," I wheezed. "He owes me a PlayStation."
I closed my eyes for a second, just to catch my breath.
"Well, that was sloppy," a voice said.
My eyes snapped open.
I wasn't alone.
Standing on top of the wall, looking down at me with a bored expression, was a girl. She wore our school uniform, but she had modified it—skirt shorter, sleeves rolled up. She had silver hair (dyed?) and was chewing bubblegum.
She held a sleek, black katana in one hand.
"You have terrible aim, Newbie," she said, popping a bubble. "You almost toasted my observation drone."