It was a restless night that night for Dante, he barely slept.
Every time he closed his eyes, the alley came back.
The mugger's panicked face.
The surge of power.
The darkness wrapping around his hands like a second skin.
But it wasn't a dream.
It was real.
And every time he tried to push it aside, he could still feel it—humming beneath his skin, lurking like a predator waiting to be let loose.
By the time the sun rose, exhaustion weighed down his body, but his mind was wide awake.
He needed answers.
---
Dante slipped out of the apartment before his parents woke.
He needed space—somewhere far from home, far from school, where he could be alone with this… thing inside him.
He boarded the train heading toward the outskirts of the city.
The urban sprawl faded as he moved past the wealthy districts, past towering buildings where the Gifted flaunted their abilities. Past the streets where ordinary people did their best to keep up.
Out here, things were different.
An old construction site stood abandoned—a skeleton of steel beams and cracked pavement. Once meant to be a shopping complex, now left to rot.
Perfect.
No cameras. No people.
Only him, his power, and the sky as his limit.
---
Dante stepped onto the cracked concrete, the cool morning air brushing against his skin.
He flexed his fingers, exhaling slowly.
Now what? How does he activate his power?
Back in the alley, the power had felt… instinctual. Like breathing, like something that had been waiting inside him for years.
But now? Nothing.
Dante frowned.
The power was there—he could feel it, a static charge beneath his skin—but it wouldn't come out.
He clenched his jaw in frustration. "Come on, work Damnit!"
Nothing.
His fingers twitched, his pulse quickening. He knew the power was real. He had seen it, felt it take control.
So why wasn't it working?
Because he was thinking about it too much.
Dante closed his eyes, replaying the moment in the alley.
The surge of energy.
The panic.
The instinct to fight back.
That's when he realized—
It wasn't just movement.
It was intent.
The first time, he had been desperate.
He had wanted to survive.
His eyes snapped open.
There.
A flicker of movement—barely a wisp, but real.
The shadows at his feet stirred.
Excitement surged through him, but he forced himself to stay focused.
Methodical and Controlled, he couldn't lose what little progress he had made.
Dante exhaled, lifting his hand.
The darkness obeyed.
It curled upward, shifting unnaturally, coiling like smoke around his fingers.
It wasn't just moving.
It was connected to him.
Dante's breath hitched.
It was real.
This was his power, his control.
A grin spread across his face.
Then the shadows lashed forward, heading towards him a little too fast.
---
Dante barely had time to react before the tendrils of darkness whipped toward him, curling around his arm like living restraints.
His excitement turned to panic.
The power wasn't listening.
It was out of control.
The shadows tightened, snaking up his wrist, spreading like ink dissolving in water.
Dante stumbled back, trying to shake them off, but they wouldn't let go.
Shit.
His heartbeat thundered.
He had activated the power.
Now he needed to stop it.
---
Dante gritted his teeth.
Think.
Fear wouldn't help him.
He had used the power before—controlled it.
This wasn't a monster.
It was his.
He forced himself to breathe.
Not on fear. Not on panic.
On control.
The darkness wasn't his enemy—it was a tool to be wielded.
And it belonged to him.
Dante exhaled slowly.
He willed the shadows to retreat.
At first, nothing.
Then—
The darkness shuddered.
A second later, it unraveled, dissolving into thin air like smoke in the wind.
Dante staggered, his breathing ragged. His arm tingled where the shadows had wrapped around him, but they were gone.
He stared at his hands.
Still trembling.
His power was strong. Stronger than he realized.
But if he couldn't control it…
It would control him.
---
After a quick breather, Dante decided it was time for a Second Attempt.
Dante took a deep breath.
He wasn't leaving until he figured this out.
This time, no hesitation.
He reached for the power with purpose.
The darkness responded immediately.
It curled around his fingers, more stable this time.
Dante focused, testing it.
He flicked his wrist. The shadows snapped forward, stretching outward like a whip.
He turned his palm over. The tendrils shifted, twisting, waiting for his next command.
Better.
This time, the power wasn't fighting him.
It was listening to his commands.
Dante exhaled, lowering his hands. The shadows dissolved without resistance.
Not much; but this was still Progress.
---
Dante wiped sweat from his brow.
He was about to try again when—
A sound.
A shuffle of gravel behind him.
His stomach dropped.
He spun, heart hammering, scanning the site.
No one.
But the feeling lingered.
Someone had been there; Watching him thoroughly.
Dante swallowed hard. Had they seen everything?
He waited, listening.
Silence.
Dante looked around seeing and hearing nothing. He then thought to himself "I need to be careful..."
He didn't like this.
Dante forced himself to calm down.
Maybe it was nothing.
Maybe it was just his paranoia.
But he couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't alone anymore.
And if someone had seen what he could do…
He might have a problem.
---
Dante sat on the cracked pavement, staring at his hands.
They had stopped shaking.
He had control; for the most part at least.
But there was still so much he didn't know.
Was this power permanent?
Could he take more?
He had started this morning looking for answers but only gotten more questions.
Though he had found one answer; the power was permanent.
But he still didn't know what it truly meant.
And there was only one way to find out.
Dante stood, brushing off dust.
Tomorrow, he'd push even further.
Because if someone had been watching him…
He needed to be ready for whatever might be coming his way.