Chapter 12 : The White Awakening
The disfigured men did not strike with urgency. They took their time, circling Issac like starving dogs as they drove their fists and boots into his face, ribs, and spine—each blow intentional, almost ceremonial. The boy lay motionless in the muddy street, half-submerged in a shallow puddle tinted red with his blood. His braids, once neatly tied behind his head, floated like drowned threads.
Janai could only watch.
He stood several paces away, frozen, his breaths broken and wet with panic. Tears streamed freely from his reddened eyes, mixing with the snot that kept slipping from his nose. Shame twisted painfully through him.
I'm sorry, Issac… I shouldn't have come. You shouldn't have protected me. Ed should have been here. Bryan should have been here. Anyone—anyone stronger than me.
His legs trembled, refusing to obey him. He wanted to run, to grab the sack of bread that had spilled behind him, to sprint home and pretend none of this had happened. But the weight of fear pressed him into place. The gloomy Delta streets felt colder than usual, the lamps flickering weakly as though even the light was hesitant to witness what was happening.
And still, the grotesque men laughed. Their voices echoed through the narrow alleyways, mocking the broken shape that used to be Issac.
The ground trembled.
At first Janai thought his knees had finally given out, but the stones beneath his feet rattled with a strange vibration—growing stronger, deeper, until the entire street quivered like a heartbeat out of rhythm. The tremor halted abruptly.
One of the disfigured men finally turned, noticing Janai's presence. His eyes widened with predatory delight.
"Well, look at that," the man snarled. "The little one's mine."
He charged. Metal rippled along his right arm, skin twisting into cold iron that hardened and curved into a lethal scythe. Janai's heartbeat surged painfully in his ears.
Time seemed to stretch thin.
I'm going to die. I'm really going to die here.
He tried to move—his muscles screamed but refused.
Move. Move, damn it! I can't die here… I still have things to do. Please—move!
The iron scythe swung, slicing through the air toward his throat—
—And the sky cracked.
A massive boulder crashed down from above, slamming into the attacker with crushing force. Bone and flesh burst beneath the stone, the impact sending dust and debris roaring outward in a thick cloud.
A silhouette stood atop the fallen boulder.
Janai's fear flared again. What now? Who—?
But then a familiar voice cut through the dust.
"Don't worry about a thing anymore. I am here."
The dust thinned, revealing Ed. His black Ulster coat fluttered with the settling wind, his mohawk standing sharp and deliberate. Three silver earrings swung lightly on his right ear, catching the dim streetlight.
His gaze was ice.
He scanned the area, searching—hunting—until his eyes found Janai.
"Janai. Where did that mutt go?"
Janai let out a broken, manic laugh—nothing joyful in it, only anguish and disbelief.
"Mutt? You mean Issac?" His voice cracked. "He saved me… and I watched him die."
The rain began as a drizzle, soft and chilling.
Ed crouched beside him, his face tightening. "What are you talking about?"
Janai pointed to the puddle where Issac's mangled body lay.
"That is Issac!" he screamed. "Issac is dead!"
Ed's breath hitched. Shock rippled across his face—then guilt, sharp and devastating. Did I send a child to his death? Was I too hard on him? Did my pride kill him?
He pulled Janai into a brief embrace before rising, jaw clenched.
"I was too late… again."
Janai's voice trembled as he whispered, "He stepped in to save me… his Zone wouldn't activate. He still tried—"
Ed's lower lip bled as he bit down hard, fighting the rage and guilt boiling in his chest.
The other disfigured men, emboldened by Ed's stillness, began to laugh.
"Oh? He was your friend?" one taunted.
"Shame. The boy kept up for a while before he crumbled," another sneered.
"I've never seen him around. Thought it was always you and that grey-haired twat," a third mocked. "Sending a child to Delta… his death is on your hands."
Ed did not move.
He slowly turned to Janai. "Do me a favor, Janai. Close your eyes and count to ten."
Janai froze at the eerie smile stretching across Ed's face—unlike anything he had seen from him before. His sobbing quieted. He turned away, covered his eyes, and began counting.
"One… two…"
"You think you can take all of us?" one of the grotesque men growled.
Ed clenched his fists but remained silent.
"Who do you think you are?" another spat. "You're as dead as that bastard boy!"
He leapt high, fists clamped together, ready to crush Ed—
The air thickened.
Pressure collapsed onto the street. Wind surged violently, ripping through the alleyway with a force that made the men choke on their breath. Ed reacted instantly, using his elemental law to anchor his feet to the ground as he pulled Janai tightly to his side.
What—? Wind? No, not wind. No mage around here has that kind of power. What is happening today?
He lifted his head toward the source.
A figure stood where Issac's body had lain.
The winds stopped.
Issac rose slowly, steam wafting from his fully healed skin. His braids glowed faintly white. His wounds were gone, erased as if they had never existed. White Zone surged from his body in pulsating waves, distorting the air around him. His eyes burned bright—too bright—his pupils swallowed completely by the light.
He staggered like someone drunk or dreaming, whispering softly under his breath.
Ed's heart pounded. "Issac?" He stepped forward cautiously. "Hey. You okay? You had us—spooked, just a bit."
No response.
One of the surviving disfigured men stared at Issac with terror and disbelief. "You're not from here… Whatever that is, it isn't an elemental law—"
Issac blurred.
He appeared in front of the man in the span of a blink.
A wet, sickening rip echoed as Issac tore the man's head from his neck in one swift motion. Blood sprayed in an arc as the body collapsed. The head remained in Issac's hand, dripping violently between his fingers.
Ed's mouth fell open—not at the brutality, but the speed. I didn't see him move. Not even a flicker. What is he?
The remaining grotesque men roared with fury. "Insolent brat! We'll kill you!"
One spread his palm, conjuring a slimy brown substance that splattered onto the street. Where it landed, wood erupted—twisting, merging, shaping itself into towering humanoid constructs.
"Twelve of them," Ed muttered. "Damn it…"
The wood mage charged, his wooden soldiers thundering forward behind him.
Issac lifted his head slowly.
Then he leapt.
Time froze—for just a breath—as Issac hovered above them, white Zone swirling around his right fist like a miniature storm.
He descended.
The impact shook the street. His fist smashed the first wooden figure to splinters. He weaved past another's punch, crushed its jaw with an uppercut, then spun and shattered a third. His movements were impossibly fluid—unnatural—like instinct guided by something ancient and buried.
"What… what are those movements?" the wood mage whispered in fear.
He raised his arm to summon more constructs—never finishing the motion.
Issac vanished again.
Silence.
Then he stood before the mage, fist already glowing with condensed Zone.
The punch created a shockwave that rippled through the air. The man's jaw snapped completely, his eyes rolling up as he fell unconscious—but Issac wasn't finished.
Before the limp body could hit the ground, Issac drove his fingers into the man's mouth and ripped his jaw clean off. Blood poured onto the cobblestones. Issac dropped the detached jaw with a wet thud and stamped down on the mage's head, crushing it entirely.
Janai could barely breathe as he watched. "He… he's the real deal."
Ed swallowed hard. That speed… he shouldn't be capable of that. But something's off. This isn't Issac. His entire presence feels wrong. Almost like—like he isn't the one in control.
Janai's gaze trembled between Issac and Ed.
Is he… stronger than Ed? Stronger than Bryan? Or something beyond them entirely?
Issac stood alone in the ruined street, surrounded by broken bodies and splintered wood, steam rising from his glowing skin.
Something deep within the air shifted.
And Ed realized—this was only the beginning of whatever Issac was becoming.