Beep. Beep.
The register's steady rhythm rang across the front end of Jol-Mart, mixing with the hum of customers chatting, carts squeaking, and the faint buzz of fluorescent lights. Aryn stood behind the counter, scanning items with a motion so practiced it almost felt like breathing. Milk carton. Beep. Bread loaf. Beep. Bag of chips. Beep.
The 18 year old moved with the tired efficiency of someone who had worked the job far longer than he actually had. His wiry frame, a tad over six foot, shifted with every motion, lean muscles flexing beneath a thin work shirt that had seen better days. His brown skin glowed faintly under the lights, and his face carried a mix of youth and something older, something sharpened by private worries he rarely spoke about.
His jet black hair was tied in wooly dreads, most gathered on top of his head while several longer strands hung down to his chin. A few wooden studs decorated his locks, and one small tooth dangled from a dread near his jawline. It gave him a rugged, almost tribal look. One that confused customers who couldn't tell if he was trying too hard or if it simply came naturally.
"Thanks for shopping with Jol-Mart. Have a great day and come back to see us!" Aryn forced the line out with his best customer service voice. He even added a smile, though only the narrowing of his eyes made it look genuine.
The customer nodded stiffly and pushed her cart away.
Aryn exhaled, letting the fake cheer drain from his expression.
"Aryn, before you clock out," the young man at the next register called, waving his hand frantically, "can you grab me a soda? I'm stuck here till close. Six more hours, bro. Six."
Aryn laughed. "Yeah, man. I got you. What kind?"
"Tonta orange. You're a lifesaver."
"We'll see about that when I check my bank account later," Aryn muttered, mostly joking as he stepped away.
The break room felt like stepping into a different world. Sofas pressed together along one wall, small tables scattered across the space. The smell of old coffee mixed with cheap microwaved noodles. A couple coworkers were glued to their phones, thumbs tapping and swiping away. Others rested with their heads down, snoring softly.
Aryn walked straight to the vending machine. He dug into his pocket, pulled out what little change he had, and bought the soda.
'A dollar? Man… that's a whole dollar I didn't want to spend,' he thought, shaking his head. 'Guess dinner's getting downgraded. Just a sandwich instead of the whole combo. Story of my life.'
He walked back out, clocked out for the day, and dropped the soda off at his coworker's register. "There. Orange sugar water, HANDSOMLY delivered."
"Bless you, man."
"Yeah, yeah." Aryn waved and headed toward the sliding doors.
The moment he stepped outside, the air felt different, cooler, softer, real city life air. He drew in a deep breath, savoring the feeling as he looked up at the sky. The sun was sinking, painting the clouds with streaks of orange and purple.
He took out his phone, checking his text messages.
'I'm gonna head to Jolly King to grab some grub. Tell Jaxon to come too. =P,' Aryn replied to a text from Kaia.
'It's gonna be dark soon… shortcut'll get me to Jolly King faster.' He rubbed his eyes, tiredness settling in. 'I'm so done with this dead end job. I just graduated and this is it? Bagging groceries? Nah… I need more. The military test better go well. I'm not trying to be stuck here forever.'
The thought tightened his chest. Aryn knew he had potential. He could pick up skills fast, work hard, and adapt to almost anything. But fear of messing up, of failing publicly always sat on his shoulders like a weight. It held him back from trying things he wanted to do. The military entrance exam was the first thing he'd decided to try without letting fear talk him out of it.
He walked down the busy Atlanta streets, watching buses pass, cars honking, and cyclists weaving through traffic. Everyone seemed to know exactly where they were going. Everyone had a path, a purpose and Aryn wished he knew his.
He passed storefronts and restaurants, letting the city noise fade into the background. He paused when he reached a narrow alleyway between two buildings. A quick check on his phone confirmed it cut straight toward Jolly King.
'Saves me five minutes. Good enough.'
He slipped into an alley filled with trash bins that lined the walls, and the ground was cracked in places, littered with bottle caps and old wrappers. But it was quiet and strangely peaceful. As he moved through it, his mind drifted to the dreams again.
For years, he'd dreamed of strange places. Endless deserts where giant sand colored wolves howled at a hot days sun and cool nights moon. Green plains stretching farther than the eye could see. Oceans roaring with waves that glowed like liquid light. Jungles thick enough to swallow the sky. These dreams felt like memories, vivid and echoing with emotion.
Sometimes comforting, sometimes terrifying but always giving the feeling of importance.
Whenever he woke from them, he felt like something was tugging at his soul, telling him to prepare for something he couldn't name. Something warning him.
'Those dreams won't pay the bills,' he muttered, kicking a stray can into the street as he exited the alley.
The can clattered loudly, bouncing across the sidewalk.
A sudden, crushing vision slammed into his mind, an enormous wave crashing into the world, swallowing everything in its path. Aryn staggered, gripping the side of a building as the pain pulsed in his head.
"What the— ugh…" He squeezed his eyes shut until it passed.
When he opened them, Jolly King was straight ahead.
He crossed the street, but his skin prickled and his hairs stood up as if something unseen watched him. It felt like pressure against his chest, a warning pushing him back. His instincts screamed, the same way a rabbit might feel with a pack of wolves growling behind it.
He scanned the parking lot. Cars filled the space, people waited in the drive thru, kids argued near the door. Everything looked normal... Until the ground shook.
A sudden quake rippled through the area. Pebbles jumped and car alarms went off. People screamed. Windows rattled, and Aryn stumbled, catching himself on a metal pole.
"What the hell?!"
The shaking lasted only a moment, but it was strong enough to freeze everyone in fear. Then… silence.
The air shifted and the pressure seemed to dip. The temperature dropped just enough to raise goosebumps and a flash lit up the center of the parking lot.
A swirling green vortex ripped into existence, jagged cracks of blue distortion snapping around it like lightning. The portal swirled violently, warping the air around it. Its surface moved like liquid metal mixed with fog, difficult to fully understand or describe.
People screamed and backed away. Cars stopped in the middle of the road. Someone dropped a drink, the cup rolling across the pavement.
Aryn's body moved before his mind caught up. Instinct, raw primal instinct forced him behind the brick barrier at the edge of the sidewalk. His heart thundered, then the pain hit.
"Oh F— ah!" Aryn collapsed to one knee, clutching his stomach. It felt like something was burrowing into him, carving through muscle and bone. The agony spread through his chest, arms, and legs. It was burning hot, then cold, then hot again.
He fell forward, his forehead hitting the concrete. His skin felt like it was boiling. His veins felt like they were on fire and every nerve screamed.
A soft glow appeared on his left arm.
A tattoo, thin triangles crossing over a dark band. It burned into his skin as if invisible hands were carving it. The glowing lines seared deeper, locking themselves into place as the light grew brighter and brighter.
Aryn gritted his teeth and gasped for air. The burning intensified, then slowly began to fade.
When the glow died completely, he was left panting on the ground.
He pushed himself upright, bracing a trembling hand on the brick wall. His heartbeat slammed against his ribs, heavy and strong, as if something inside him had been shaken awake.
The world around him felt sharper. Clearer, colors looked brighter, sounds carried farther, and even the air tasted different. His skin tingled with awareness he had never felt before. Something pulsed deep in his chest, steady, ancient, familiar in a way that made no sense.
He stared down at the new mark etched into his arm, the pattern still faintly warm. The crossed triangles and dark band didn't feel like a tattoo. They felt like a memory, like something reaching up from a place he had forgotten.
His skin had changed too. It was darker now, carrying a faint green tint that made it feel both strange and ancient, as if something deep within him had finally awakened.
Aryn swallowed hard, trying to steady his breathing. Because now he understood something he couldn't explain.
This wasn't random. It couldn't be an accident and it wasn't even the beginning of something new. It was the return of something old. Something that existed long before he ever stepped foot on Earth.
His chest tightened, but not with fear, with recognition.
His blood and soul remembered something powerful… and ancient.