Chapter 1 No Place Like Home

What would you do if you had nothing? No family, no friends, no possessions, nothing at all.

What would you do… if you had nothing to lose?

James thought about that question, rolled it around in his mind, and looked at it from various perspectives.

He thought about that question a lot, more than anyone should, really. Though, it wasn't without reason.

James lived in a world in which a person's future was decided the moment they were born.

No amount of hard work would ever change what genetics had set in motion before they could even take their first breath.

The reason is Abilities.

Skills, talents, POWERS.

James Ward lived in a world where every person is born with an ability, but only one.

A person could fly, move at the speed of sound, or lift buildings like they were picking up groceries.

As long as someone was lucky, they may even be born semi-immortal.

Of course, his world wasn't always like that. It was much like modern Earth. When the strongest man earned his title through sweat and determination.

However, an apocalypse occurred with monsters, aliens, and zombies just for fun…well after something like that, things changed.

People began developing powers to fight against the overwhelming odds. At first, it was earned. However, over time, power became hereditary.

But that was literally history for James. Seriously, it's in his old textbooks.

The world had rebuilt itself hundreds of years ago, and society had adapted to humankind that had broken past their humanity.

Sounds pretty good, right? Wrong.

Abilities became the most significant divide in human history. Wars were fought, and cults were formed. People now knew exactly what made them different from their common man. POWER.

That is the world James grew up in. A modern society teetered on top of the whims of people with actual power. And those people knew it.

Those with powers decided the laws, the rules, and the social norms. They could, on a whim, eliminate others they felt were beneath them.

This meant if you didn't have power…well, you didn't tend to last.

And James didn't have power.

His ability was labeled Malleability. It allowed him to make things more malleable. Great for a 15th-century blacksmith but not so great for someone growing up in a world where lifting a building with your mind was possible.

He was abandoned before he could walk and bullied by his classmates as soon as they knew they could get away with it.

However, James survived. He endured everything forced upon him, the taunting, teasing, and outright harassment. James survived it all and even carved out a small place he called his own.

A 300-square-foot apartment above a laundromat in the wrong part of town. It wasn't large, quiet, or all that safe, but it was his. To buy it, he had scraped and saved for years through small jobs and demeaning work.

That's all James wanted out of life, a place of his own in a world where he had almost nothing.

As of a few moments ago, he was content with only that. Now…he truly did have nothing.

It started with his walk back from work as a tech repairman in the back of the local pawn shop a few blocks from his apartment.

The day was pretty good. He finished his workload early and had even been given an early bonus by his boss.

However, as he walked down the familiar sidewalks and graffitied buildings, a laser shot through a building down the street.

James, already familiar with his survival instincts, immediately dropped to the ground, narrowly avoiding the laser that swept through the rest of the buildings on the street…and anyone that couldn't duck in time.

The smell of burning flesh and smoke assaulted his nose as he picked himself off the concrete.

Only as he began seeking out where the laser came from did the people still alive start screaming. It took a little longer for their shock to wear off.

His heart jumped to his throat when his eyes glanced over what was left of his apartment, his home.

James could only walk forward dully when looking at the crumbling brick building he used to call home.

He ignored the scent of smoke in the air.

He ignored the shrieks of terror and screams of despair.

Even as he began climbing the pile of loose brick and rebar, he ignored the cuts that dug into his hands and legs.

James came back to reality only when he stood in the exact location where his apartment once was.

Around him, the city was in chaos. People screaming in the streets, monsters flooding out of the sewer systems, and people in long white cloaks shouting of a reckoning as they floated above it all.

James looked at it in a daze as he stood in the spot that used to be his front door. What does he care if the building across the street is atomized by a laser?

Hell, he never liked the gang around the corner that always smelled like cheap cologne and smoke, so he actually thought it was funny when a humanoid leviathan made of water sat on them.

'About time they bathe.' He thought with a sardonic chuckle.

To James, the world had lost the last bit of color he had held onto. So, when one of the cultists in long white cloaks noticed him simply standing amongst the wreckage of his building, they became curious.

Here, at the center of chaos, was a man that, from all angles, seemed to have not a care in the world. The cultist slowly began to float down.

James, of course, noticed the white-cloaked figure; hard not to when they were causing all of the destruction, but still, he didn't care.

When the cultist landed, she stared at James, and James at her. Because it was a her, certain areas gave that away, even if her face was hidden within her white hood.

"Are you unafraid of your end?" She asked, in what sounded like genuine curiosity.

James stared at her for a second. And another second. Before finally-

"Pfft! Hehehe! Hahaha!" He began to laugh.

James laughed, smiling brighter than he had in his entire life until tears ran from his eyes, and he had to hold his stomach. It hurt from laughing so hard.

The white-robed woman in front of him was not as amused.

"Ahh, I see, another broken man in this broken world, aren't you?" The cultist said before pulling her arms back as they began to glow an ominous midnight black.

"Hahaha..ho…phew. Lady, I'm not broken, or maybe I am..." tilting his head as he thought about it, "either way, it doesn't matter." James finished as he got ready for the inevitable fight for his life. "I am pissed, and I'd just love to show you how much."