He walked slowly, taking in the surroundings. Familiar yet distant.
The neighbors glanced his way. Some paused mid-conversation, others stared outright before quickly turning away. Their expressions were cautious—uneasy. After all, the police had visited his house more than once recently, and word of the house arrest had spread fast in this tight-knit neighborhood.
Alex wasn't surprised. Rumors moved faster than facts, especially when your name had already been smeared by someone else's sins.
Still, he welcomed the distance. Suspicion kept people away. And for now, that suited him perfectly.
More room to move. Less risk of being pulled into drama I didn't cause, he thought grimly.
The gangs that had once plagued his doorstep—from what he remembered of the original Alex's chaotic life—hadn't shown up yet either. Whether it was fear of the police attention or whatver the rumours going around, he welcomed all of it.
A small blessing.
Alex adjusted his grip on the cane and kept walking. He wasn't just out for fresh air. He had something to do now—his training demanded more than the basement could provide.
And the world outside... it was the perfect place to begin shaping the demon inside.
Reaching the park, Alex noticed how lively the place already was. People lounged on benches or strolled along the winding paths. Children played with their dogs, laughter echoing faintly between the trees. It felt... normal. Peaceful, even.
He moved quietly, drawing little attention, and found a shaded spot beneath one of the larger trees. It stood at the edge of the grassy field, its thick branches casting cool shadows that stretched over the patchy earth.
Lowering himself to the ground, Alex leaned back against the tree's rough bark and exhaled slowly. He closed his eyes.
The hum of energy around him—life, motion, emotion—was subtle but present. He let it wash over him, not trying to control or manipulate it, just feel it.
This was a method he found online, something about increasing awareness through stillness. Yoga. Meditation. The internet was filled with that kind of stuff. Whether it worked or not was unclear—but one thing was certain: it helped calm his mind.
And after weeks of chaos, blood, demonic energy, and near-death moments, calm was rare currency.
More than anything, it helped him feel. The contrast between the living, breathing world outside and the cold, stagnant air of his basement made a strange sort of impact on him. He hadn't realized how deeply the dark energy clung to him until he sat in this light.
The warmth of the sun. The buzz of conversation. A bird chirping nearby.
It made his demonic energy feel... heavier in comparison.
Still, the experience was grounding—more effective than the cold meditation he'd tried lying alone in his basement. And as he sat there, breathing slowly, eyes still closed, a soft breeze carried the scent of cut grass and distant blossoms.
For a moment, he let himself have this moment of rest, one he didn't realize how deeply he needed.
No voices in his head.
No pain.
No constant uncomfort.
Just warmth on his face and the quiet murmur of life moving around him.
The demonic energy inside him coiled gently, subdued, as if it too was lulled by the peace. It no longer snarled for control or pulsed with menace. It simply existed—silent, dormant, almost content.
Alex shifted slightly, letting his head fall back against the tree trunk. A part of him almost feared breaking this fragile peace. Like if he moved too much, the world would remember what he was and snap him back into the chaos.
But then—
A tug.
Subtle. Barely noticeable.
Not physical, but inside. A ripple through the demonic mist that curled in his veins. It was like a thread being pulled. Not painful. Not threatening.
Just… a reminder.
Something—someone—was reaching.
Alex's eyes opened slowly. The sunlight filtering through the leaves above looked almost golden now, too soft for what he felt inside. He sat still, breathing calmly, trying to listen, trying to sense.
And there it was again.
A second tug.
This one was sharper.
He didn't move, but his eyes narrowed. His instincts sharpened. He scanned his surroundings—but then came the third tug.
Alex's gaze dropped, not outward but inward, his awareness shifting into his own body. And there—he felt it. Near his heart.
It wasn't just a pulse. It felt like an orb, orbiting deep inside his chest, syncing with each beat—not of his heart, but something else. Something not physical. Something metaphysical.
Tick... Tick...
The rhythm wasn't natural. Not like a heartbeat, not like blood flowing. Each tick echoed like a mechanical lock turning, every movement deliberate. Energy, dense and alien, surged with each tick, only to recoil and spiral back into the orb in a loop. It was flowing—but not out. It cycled within him.
Like a closed circuit, Alex thought. A system... not a flow.
He sat still, eyes now half-lidded, fully focused. The sensation wasn't painful. Just strange. Controlled. A perfect pattern. The energy pulsed through his limbs but never escaped—bouncing off the limits of his skin like it was bound by invisible walls, always returning to that central orb.
"I thought it was like veins pumping blood," Alex murmured. "But no… the energy isn't moving like that. It's like an echo, limited by the boundaries of my body."
He exhaled sharply, realizing just how deep into the trance he'd gone. His breathing had slowed without him noticing. His body felt like a part of a larger machine—his limbs were gears, and the orb within his chest was the core, ticking with purpose.
He tried something: Will it to release the energy.
And the orb responded.
It pulsed once—slow, deliberate. A ripple of energy spread out in all directions, 360 degrees, like a shockwave. Then it retracted, folding back into its tight, humming shape, like a machine resetting.
Alex's eyes widened.
"So this is how it works," he whispered. "The core holds all the energy—and releases it however I will it. It's not bound by veins or flesh. It flows freely, ignoring all obstacles."
He looked down at his hand, concentrating. He willed the orb to channel energy into it. Instantly, it pulsed again, and Alex felt the surge pour down his arm. It flowed smoothly—no resistance, no heat—just power.
There was no need to hide. Only those with certain powers could see demonic energy. To any normal person, he'd just look like a guy staring intensely at his hand like a fool. But he knew better.
And then—it happened.
A powerful gust of blackish-white mist burst from his palm, swirling like fog caught in Darkness. It was his demonic energy, manifesting fully and perfectly under his control for the first time.
"Finally... I get it," Alex said with a grin, watching the energy swirl and dance.
This wasn't like before, when it snuffed out uncontrollably.
This time, it obeyed him.
And it was only his first step.
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