I can still remember the first time I realized my power could control everything.
I was sixteen in that life, too.
But this wasn't some normal schoolyard.
This was a battlefield.
Entire armies were moving like chess pieces, and I could see every strike before it even started.
Average bio-mark abilities flying around.
I laughed then—not because it was funny, but because it was so easy.
Other Saints stared at me, awe and envy on their faces.
The Saint of Courage, sweating bullets even as he tried to challenge me.
The Saint of Mercy, shaking but trying to stop my plans for control.
All of them thinking they could outsmart me.
They couldn't.
They gave up, and worked under me in the end.
We ruled at the pinnacle together, with me being the king of kings. Of cause they didn't like that one bit, but they couldn't do anything about it.
Every decision, every step, every hidden movement—it was already mapped out in my head.
I could see hundreds of outcomes in an instant.
I could bend nations without raising my voice.
I could crush rebellion before it even sparked.
And yet…
I grew bored.
I had conquered. I had won. I had outwitted everyone, predicted every move, ruled without opposition.
And still… it was empty.
That's when I started to wonder:
What if I disappeared? What if I let the world live without me? What would a normal human life feel like?.
I watched them plot against me—the other five Saints, who would eventually betray me—and I let them.
I didn't fight. I didn't resist.
I wanted to see something I had never seen before:
a world where I wasn't the smartest man alive.
Where chaos could exist. Where outcomes were unpredictable.
Where life was… alive.
And when the blade pierced me, when they thought they had killed me, I smiled.
Not for forgiveness. Not for redemption.
But because for the first time in centuries, I didn't know what would happen next.
—
The night air hit us like a punch as we sprinted down the alley.
The boy—the Saint of Will, though he had no clue yet—was still trembling, his raw energy pushing the walls around us to groan in protest.
"Where are we going?" he gasped.
"Somewhere they won't find us immediately," I said.
My mind calculated dozens of routes in seconds: side streets, back alleys, abandoned warehouses, even underground tunnels. Anything to stay ahead.
He stumbled slightly, and I grabbed his arm, steadying him.
"Relax," I said. "You're stronger than you think, but your control is weak. Fight panic, not the world."
We ducked behind a rusted dumpster as distant alarms blared, and for a second… we were just two kids in a city.
But the weight of what had happened, what was coming… it was crushing.
I took a deep breath, forcing him to meet my eyes.
"Listen," I said, keeping my voice calm. "Your ability is reacting to your fear. That's why the building almost collapsed. You need control your bio-aura, or it's going to hurt people—and us."
His face was pale. "I—I don't know how. It's like it just… happens."
"Then focus on one thing," I told him. "Anything. My voice, your heartbeat, a spot on the wall. Anchor yourself. Power only amplifies when your mind panics. Anchor it, and you can steer it."
He nodded shakily.
I put a hand lightly on his shoulder. Not controlling him, just grounding.
"Good. That's it. One breath at a time. You've got this."
And slowly, his trembling slowed. The oppressive pressure in the air eased just enough that I could think clearly again.
The alley we ducked into was dark, cramped, and smelled like rust and rain.
The boy—I still had no clue what his real name was yet—leaned against the wall, breathing hard.
His energy was flickering, raw and wild, but at least it wasn't tearing the city apart anymore.
"Listen," I said, crouching beside him. "We can't just run blindly. They'll cover the streets, the rooftops… drones, cameras, the works. If we stay in the open, we're dead."
He nodded, still trembling. "I… I didn't know I could do that. I didn't know what I was doing."
"You weren't supposed to," I said. "That's the point. Powers like yours… they're dangerous when fear leads them. You control it, you survive. You panic, and you take the world down with you."
I paused, watching him process it.
"Now listen carefully. Like I said, You'll need to anchor yourself. Focus. That's how you control the power, and that's how we survive."
He nodded again, slower this time, more deliberate.
I could see the flicker of relief—but also the fear still gripping him. That fear could kill us both.
"We need to move," I said, standing. "Come with me. Watch the corners, count the streets, trust me. I'll get us out."
He followed, still shaking, but alive.
We didn't get far.
The hum of drones became louder, the beams of light sweeping the alleys like predators.
I could feel them closing in. The government doesn't miss.
"Stay calm," I muttered to him. "Anchor yourself. Now."
He squeezed his eyes shut, and I felt the pull ease slightly.
Good. He could learn this. He had to learn this.
I ducked behind a dumpster, scanning the street.
Three enforcers on the north side, two drones hovering above, and a patrol vehicle moving fast toward the alley we came from.
"We split," I whispered. "I'll draw them to the east exit. You take the shadows west. Don't use your power unless you have to. Promise me."
His jaw clenched. "I promise. But… if something happens to you—"
"You stay alive. That's what happens to me," I said, cold and clipped. "Go."
I sprinted, weaving through fire escapes and side streets, letting them track me.
Every step calculated. Every corner I turned, I anticipated their movement before they even thought to chase.
The thrill came back. The same thrill I hadn't felt in centuries: being alive, unpredictable, hunted.
Minutes later, I ducked into a stairwell and looked back.
The patrol had gone east. I'd bought him time.
I pressed my back against the wall, letting my heart slow.
"Not bad," I muttered to myself. "We're still alive. We're still out of sight. For now."
And for the first time in a long time, the city felt alive.
Messy, chaotic, dangerous.
Exactly the way I remembered liking it.
I rounded the corner, heart hammering.
The patrol car was coming too fast, headlights blinding. I couldn't stop, couldn't slow down—the alley was too narrow.
Then… something clicked in my head.
Not like a memory. Not like a thought. More like… a whisper from the air itself.
I saw it before it happened: the wheel of the patrol car hitting a puddle, skidding slightly. The concrete edge jutting from the wall a step too close. The guard leaning out of the window to aim his taser.
I moved before I even knew I had moved.
A step to the left. A roll into shadow. The wheel of the car skidded harmlessly past where I had been. The taser shot a meter over my head.
I froze for a second, chest pounding.
"That was so close. I really do see some seconds into the future."
I did the exact thing back at the containment room, but I didn't think much of it cause I was cornered. "Was it luck.?"
I shook my head, cause inside… I knew better.
It wasn't luck.
It wasn't instinct.
It was my bio-mark. Finally awakening.
I could feel it pulsing faintly under my skin, like a heartbeat not my own.
A sense of danger… a fraction ahead of time. Enough to survive, just barely.
I printed down the alley, and it happened again.
Another guard rounding the corner, another gun raised. The bio-mark nudged my mind: dodge to the right, timing it just after the shadow hits the wall.
I did. And again, I was alive.
Adrenaline. Fear. Focus.
The ability was raw, fragmented—glitches in a system I hadn't fully remembered.
It wasn't full power.
It wasn't the Saint of Wisdom I used to be.
But it was enough to make me deadly.
And as I ducked into another alleyway, I realized something.
This city, this world, even this life… I wasn't powerless anymore.
Not yet.
And one day, when I remembered everything…
I will be the Strongest Anomaly, again.
—
Mom sat in the living room, the soft hum of the city outside clashing with the pounding in her chest.
"Where is he?" she muttered to herself, gripping the edge of the sofa. "He's never gone this long… not alone."
She checked her phone again. No messages.
No signal.
Her worry turned to panic, and then to something colder, sharper.
"Please…" she whispered. "Please be safe."
She had no idea what had happened.
No idea what powers—or dangers—were chasing me.
All she knew was fear.
And it burned her alive.
—
It's been a day since I ran away—The city wasn't forgiving.
Sirens, drones, spotlights—every alley, every street, every rooftop was crawling with the government's eyes and soldiers.
I met up with the boy at a designated point i planned ahead, that our two paths would meet again. Luckily he was fine as well.
I couldn't let him be on is own with how unstable he was, his energy signature would easily be tracked and he will be captured, or worse.
I kept the boy close, whispering, "Stay calm. Anchor yourself."
The bio-mark flickered, sensing danger before we even heard it.
But the down side was, unlike my days as the Saint of Wisdom where I had infinite energy… I was currently running low on energy to keep using my bio-mark ability. I had less time to get us out of this.
Three patrol vehicles appeared at the far end of the street.
A drone hovered above us, its sensors scanning.
"They're not slowing down," he muttered, panic creeping back.
"Good," I said. "Then we move faster."
We split into shadows, sliding along walls, ducking under fire escapes, jumping over trash bins.
Every step was calculated. Every movement, predicted.
But the swarm was bigger than anything we'd faced so far.
Suddenly, a figure appeared on the rooftop above us.
Tall. Muscular. Confident. Fully in control.
His eyes glinted with amusement.
The moment he landed in front of us, the air seemed heavier.
It wasn't just his presence—it was authority, power, arrogance.
"Finally found you," he said smoothly, voice loud enough to echo off the walls.
The boy froze. "Who… who is that?"
I smiled coldly. "You're about to find out."
He raised a hand casually, spark flies, and the ground beneath us quaked slightly.
Debris lifted, walls cracked, and his power radiated outward.
Not uncontrolled. Not panicked. Every movement precise, deliberate.
He was a manipulator of Lightning.
"I'm the Saint of Courage, and head of unite 2 of the Alpha Anomaly Enforcers Squad, or the A.A.E.S— Blake Rogers" he said. "And you, little anomalies, are playing in my city now."
He tilted his head, studying me like I was a minor nuisance.
"You've got potential, kid. But you're out of your league."
The boy's face twisted—equal parts fear and awe.
I recognized it immediately.
He was trained. Experienced. Dangerous. And working for the government.
Arrogant enough to think the world revolved around him.
Then, right there, a memory hit me.
—
It was back when the Saint of Courage first realized—or, well, thought—he was the most powerful in the world. At least, that's how he saw it. I remember him boasting like the king of everything:
"No one can match me. Not one soul dares challenge the Saint of Courage!"
This went on for days. The other Saints ignored him—well, to his credit, he was stronger than most of them at the time. Only the Saint of Will even came close.
So, I could understand why they turned a blind eye. But me? I couldn't let it slide. Not for a second. If I did, he'd carry that smug disrespect straight over to me—and I wasn't about to let that happen.
So, I couldn't help myself. I stepped in.
I instigated an event that made us go to war for the first time against one another.
And our first encounter? I brought him crashing down to reality. Every ounce of arrogance drained from him, and I swear, he looked like a broken child staring at the dirt.
"I… I… I didn't think—" He stammered, voice trembling, eyes darting like a cornered animal.
It was painful to watch. Absolutely pitiful. And even now, thinking about it? It still disgusts me.
—
It would seem that he is still the same in every life time, I guess I would have to bring him down to earth again soon.
I clenched my fists.
The air trembled as the Saint of Courage's power pressed down, but I stayed calm.
Anchor yourself. One thing. My voice. My heartbeat.
The boy next to me tried, but even with guidance, his fear made him falter.
I could feel the old thrill rising—calculation, anticipation, strategy.
This wasn't just survival anymore. This was a game.
"Listen carefully," I whispered, voice low and sharp. "One wrong move and we're done. But if we play it right…"
I let the tiniest smile creep onto my face.
"This could be fun."
And in that instant, the city became our chessboard.
The hunted… and the hunter.
The Saint of Courage's power pressed down like a storm, making the street tremble beneath our feet.
The boy's hands shook. He tried to anchor himself, tried to control the flickering force around him, but fear made it unstable.
I exhaled slowly. Focus. Observe. Calculate.
I could see it all—every weak point in his stance, every angle the patrols were moving from, the drones hovering too high to hit, the cars that could block our path.
I didn't need my precognition this time, it just looked too easy for someone as smart and preceptive as I am.
Yes!!… I am bragging.
They think they've cornered us.
I stepped forward, deliberately catching the eye of the Saint of Courage.
"Hey," I said, calm, almost casual. "Why is a 'so called' Saint working for the government, went you can control them."
He frowned, lightning flaring around him, making the street groan.
I didn't flinch. Instead, I bent down as if to tie my shoes. I could see it—he flinched at the movement, but his eyes never left me.
Poor fool didn't realize he'd already walked into my little trap.
From his blind spot, I picked up a tiny stone, pretending it was in my shoes. "Uh… this was really bothering me," I said, voice casual, "I just had to remove it."
He glared. "Now come quietly," he commanded.
I gave myself three seconds—three perfect seconds to savor the moment. Then I tossed the stone casually onto a cracked spot in the pavement—one he had made with his own flaring power.
He didn't notice a thing. Of course he didn't. That was the whole point.
The stone hit the crack, ricocheting onto the drones. They spiraled out of control.
A guard's foot slipped as he scrambled to avoid them. And then… the wall I'd targeted began cracking even further. Bits of debris tumbled down like I was conducting a symphony of chaos.
I couldn't help the grin creeping over my face. Watching him scramble, thinking he was in control… it never got old.
After causing that distraction, I grabbed the boy's arm.
"Now," I hissed.
We rolled into the shadows just as a chunk of concrete slammed where we'd been standing.
Drones swerved, guards stumbled, the Saint of Courage gritted his teeth.
I kept my eyes forward, mapping our escape route like a chessboard.
Left into the narrow alley, climb the fire escape, across the rooftops, and the drainage tunnel will spit us out three blocks south.
The boy stammered, panicked.
"W-what… how do you… see all that?"
I gave him a sharp glance.
"Just trust me. One step at a time. Don't think, don't panic. Move."
We ran. I used my precognition this time.
How I had control over something that just awakened only a couple of hours ago?— easy, it's because am a genius.
Every step precise. Every leap timed. Every corner predicted.
And even with the Saint of Courage's crushing aura behind us, we stayed ahead—just barely.
For the first time in this life, I felt it—the old thrill returning.
The thrill of being hunted and surviving.
The thrill of knowing the board, anticipating every move, and still keeping one step ahead.
This is only the beginning, I thought.
They think this is dangerous. They have no idea.
The fire escape spat us onto the rooftops, night air sharp in my lungs.
The boy lagged behind slightly, trying desperately to anchor himself, but his flickering energy trailed behind him like sparks from a frayed wire.
I glanced back. The Saint of Courage wasn't far.
He landed lightly, lightning radiating from him like a gravitational field.
Drones hovered above, scanning. Guards shouted from the streets below.
"Nice moves," he called, voice dripping with arrogance. "But you're cornered. Again— And his time, no trick can save you."
I smirked, calm, letting the boy slide behind me. "Cornered? Maybe. But trapped? That's a different story."
He raised a hand. The lightning tore out. Roof tiles cracked. I counted the microsecond timing of each tremor.
Three seconds… four… five.
I jumped to the next rooftop, rolling midair, catching the edge perfectly.
The boy followed, though a bit shaky.
"Keep up," I hissed. "Don't think. Just move."
He flared his power instinctively, sending a gust that knocked a drone sideways.
Blake Rogers eyes narrowed. "Impressive. But reckless."
I smiled. "Reckless works better than afraid."
He lunged. I rolled to the side, ducking under his power, letting it slam into a ventilation shaft behind me.
Metal screamed, concrete cracked, and sparks flew.
Not bad. Not bad at all.
And then… he stopped chasing.
For a moment, he hovered, scanning the rooftops, looking very confused, then frustrated.
I had completely lost him in my dust.
—
Back on the streets, the government and their Saint ally regrouped.
Cameras, drones, and trackers picked up nothing. The boy's bio-mark signature was still active, but he was hard to pin down.
One of the enforcers barked into a radio:
"Subject is untraceable. Last known location: north sector. He's gone dark."
"we need a plan to get him to come to us—we need him, if he is really who we think he is" a sharp voice commanded. "He's got to have somewhere he returns to. Track family. Track patterns."
—
It's been two days since I left home now.
Mom was in the kitchen, stirring tea, the aroma of herbs filling the small apartment.
The phone rang. A number she didn't recognize. Hesitant, she picked up.
And, it was them.