Morning came quietly.
Too quietly.
Sunlight slipped through the cracked edges of the window, falling across the small, worn-out room where Aren Voss lay awake, staring at the ceiling.
He hadn't slept.
Not even for a second.
And yet—
He didn't feel tired.
That alone was enough to remind him.
Last night… wasn't a dream.
Slowly, he raised his arm.
The mark was still there.
Dark.
Shifting.
Alive.
For a moment, he simply stared at it, as if expecting it to disappear the longer he looked.
It didn't.
Instead—
It pulsed.
A faint, rhythmic beat.
Like a second heart.
Aren exhaled softly and sat up, running a hand through his damp hair. His body felt… lighter.
No pain.
No soreness.
No weakness.
It was unnatural.
"…so it's real."
The words left his mouth without emotion.
Because deep down—
He already knew.
The streets were crowded as usual.
Students in uniforms walked in groups, laughing, talking, living their normal lives as if nothing had changed.
For them—
Nothing had.
For Aren—
Everything had.
As he walked through the school gates, something felt… off.
Not around him.
But toward him.
Eyes.
People were looking.
Not the usual mocking glances.
Not the dismissive stares.
This was different.
Quieter.
Sharper.
Suspicious.
"…did something happen?" a girl whispered to her friend as Aren passed by.
"I don't know… but he feels weird," the other replied, her voice low.
Aren kept walking.
He didn't react.
Didn't even acknowledge them.
But he heard everything.
Every whisper.
Every breath.
Every shift of movement.
His senses—
Were changing.
The classroom fell silent the moment he stepped in.
That had never happened before.
Normally, no one noticed him.
Today—
Everyone did.
Aren paused slightly, his gaze sweeping across the room.
And then—
He saw them.
The empty seats.
Four of them.
A flicker of something crossed his mind.
Not guilt.
Not regret.
Just…
Recognition.
"They're not here yet?" someone muttered.
"Maybe they ditched."
"Yeah, right. Those guys never skip."
Aren walked to his seat.
Sat down.
And said nothing.
Because there was nothing to say.
"Yo… Aren."
The voice came from beside him.
Hesitant.
Uncertain.
Aren turned his head slowly.
It was Kiran.
One of the few people who had never really bothered him—but never helped him either.
Just… existed.
"What?" Aren replied.
His tone was calm.
Flat.
But something about it made Kiran stiffen slightly.
"…you okay?" he asked, scratching the back of his head. "You look… different."
Aren stared at him for a moment.
Not long.
But long enough to make the air uncomfortable.
"…I am."
The answer was simple.
Too simple.
Kiran forced a small laugh. "Right… yeah… just asking."
He turned away.
Conversation over.
Because something about Aren now—
Felt dangerous.
By lunchtime, the rumors had already started.
"They didn't come home."
"Phones are off."
"Someone said there was blood near the alley behind Block C…"
"Police might get involved."
The words spread like wildfire.
Whispers turning into tension.
Tension turning into fear.
Aren sat alone, eating quietly.
Unbothered.
At least—
On the surface.
Inside him—
Something stirred.
Not fear.
Not anxiety.
But awareness.
Because for the first time—
The world was reacting.
"You're the last one who saw them, right?"
The voice cut through the noise.
Sharp.
Direct.
Aren looked up.
A tall student stood in front of him.
Older.
Stronger.
Someone people avoided.
Raghav.
"…move," Aren said calmly.
The boy's expression darkened. "I asked you something."
Aren didn't respond.
He simply kept eating.
And that—
Was a mistake.
Raghav slammed his hand onto the table.
The sound echoed.
Heads turned.
"You think staying quiet makes you cool?" he said, leaning forward. "Answer properly."
Silence.
Then—
Aren looked up.
Their eyes met.
And in that instant—
Something shifted.
Raghav froze.
Not visibly.
Not completely.
But just enough.
Because what he saw in Aren's eyes—
Wasn't fear.
Wasn't defiance.
It was…
Nothing.
Cold.
Empty.
Endless.
"…what the hell…" he muttered under his breath.
For the first time—
He stepped back.
Not out of choice.
But instinct.
Aren stood up slowly.
Calm.
Controlled.
And walked past him.
No words.
No reaction.
Just movement.
And no one dared to stop him.
From the rooftop—
Someone was watching.
Leaning casually against the railing, a faint smirk played on his lips as his sharp eyes followed Aren's figure below.
"…he's adapting faster than expected," the man murmured.
His gaze shifted slightly—
Landing on Aren's hand.
On the mark.
"…and that thing… is already stabilizing."
For a moment, his expression darkened.
Not with fear.
But with interest.
"Looks like the Forsaken finally has a new player."
He straightened up.
And then—
He disappeared.
Back in the hallway—
Aren paused mid-step.
Something felt… off again.
Different from before.
Not internal.
External.
As if—
He was being watched.
His eyes shifted slightly.
Scanning.
Searching.
But there was nothing.
No one.
Just empty space.
"…tch."
He clicked his tongue softly and kept walking.
But deep inside—
He knew.
This was only the beginning.