First Steps into the Shadows

A week had passed since Aaron began his intense training. The abandoned garage had become his sanctuary, filled with makeshift equipment and worn-out weights. Today, he ran with a heavy tire strapped to his back, each step more agonizing than the last. His breath was ragged, sweat drenching his body as he pushed himself harder.

"Heavy," he muttered, forcing cursed energy into the tire, making it even heavier. His legs screamed in protest, but Aaron refused to stop. "Faster," he whispered again, pushing his limits. His body was on fire, the pain almost unbearable, but he knew this was the only way to grow stronger.

This week had been one of intense growth. Each day, Aaron woke up sore, his muscles aching, but the pain was a sign of progress. He had sharpened his control over cursed energy, enhancing his strength and endurance. Though the process was grueling, his determination only grew.

As he completed the third round, Aaron collapsed, the tire thudding behind him. His chest heaved, every muscle trembling, but a small smile crept onto his face. He had reached his limit today, but it was further than yesterday's. Aaron knew he was becoming stronger, more in tune with his abilities, and tomorrow, he would push even harder.

Aaron lay on the cold, cracked ground, his chest still heaving from the grueling training session. Every muscle ached, but there was a sense of accomplishment in the pain. He had pushed his limits again today and felt a small but significant increase in his strength and control over cursed energy. As he lay there, catching his breath, a thought crossed his mind: 'I'm ready.'

Sitting up slowly, Aaron wiped the sweat from his brow and glanced at the tire he had dragged through countless laps. It had been a hellish week of training, but it had paid off. He felt more in control, more powerful. And now, it was time to put that power to use.

His thoughts drifted back to the internet café he had visited earlier in the week. He had gone there secretly, slipping in unnoticed to search for anything that could lead him to the darker side of society. It hadn't taken long before he stumbled upon whispers of a place—a pub on the surface, but with an underground network catering to bounty hunters and mercenaries. It was a bit far, but with his newly enhanced speed, he could easily make the trip at night, after the orphanage had quieted down.

But first, he needed to prepare. Aaron stood up, a small smile playing on his lips as he thought about what came next. 'I'll need to change my look, blend in with the kind of people who frequent those places. Maybe a few accessories to give me an edge.'

"Shopping it is," he thought with a grin, already planning his next move. 'Tonight, the hunt begins.'

Aaron spent the rest of the day preparing for his new venture. He made his way to a thrift shop, sifting through the racks until he found a set of full-body black clothing. The fabric wasn't anything special—no tactical advantage—but it was perfect for blending into the shadows. He added a pair of black boots to his purchase, their sturdy soles ideal for the long nights ahead.

Next, he headed to a shop he had discovered during his explorations—a place that combined tattoo artistry with custom-designed clothes. The dingy storefront was tucked away in a less-traveled alley, exactly the kind of place Aaron had been looking for. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of ink and fabric, the walls adorned with various designs and patterns.

Approaching the counter, Aaron made his request: a half-mask that covered the lower part of his face, including his mouth and chin. He described it in detail—a set of white teeth with a black rim and a zipper running between the upper and lower teeth.

The tattoo artist, a burly man with sleeves of ink running down his arms, raised an eyebrow as he listened. "What's with the mask, kid?" he asked, curious about the unusual design.

Aaron leaned in slightly, a playful but dark glint in his eyes. "I just want to keep my smile under wraps… until the right moment," he replied with a smirk.

Aaron returned to the orphanage with a sense of urgency and anticipation. As the evening settled in, he moved with quiet determination, his usual reserved demeanor giving way to an unusual enthusiasm. Dinner passed in a blur, and as soon as the lights dimmed and the rest of the orphanage fell into slumber, Aaron prepared for his covert mission.

In his room, he pulled on the full-body black clothing and fastened the black boots tightly. His hands trembled slightly with excitement as he slipped the half-mask into place, the white teeth with the black rim giving him an ominous edge. He grinned behind the mask, the anticipation of what was to come fueling his every move.

Aaron approached the window and opened it slowly, the cool night air brushing against his face. It felt refreshing, a stark contrast to the stuffy confines of his room. He took a deep breath, savoring the crispness of the night, and felt a surge of exhilaration. With a final glance at the darkened orphanage behind him, he took a leap of faith.

Using his cursed energy (CE), Aaron propelled himself off the two-story building with an ease that belied the risk. As he descended rapidly, he commanded the ground beneath him with a focused thought: "Push." The ground responded, bending downward just as he reached it. Aaron landed in the dug ground, his CE cushioning the impact and ensuring a perfect, silent landing.

He rose swiftly and began sprinting through the alleys, his speed a blur of shadows and motion. Each "Faster" he muttered seemed to make his legs move more quickly, the adrenaline pumping through him like a drug. The thrill of the chase filled him with a heady rush, and he felt an intense satisfaction in his newfound abilities.

As he dashed through the narrow streets, his mind wandered to the rooftops above. 'I need to learn parkour,' he thought excitedly. The skill would allow him to navigate the city with greater agility, adding a new layer to his freedom of movement. The idea of scaling walls and leaping between rooftops thrilled him—an exhilarating challenge that matched his growing sense of adventure. With every sprint, every leap, Aaron felt a step closer to mastering his destiny, the excitement driving him forward into the night.

After about fifteen minutes of relentless running, Aaron finally arrived at his destination. He slowed his pace and stopped a short distance away from the building, his breath still coming in sharp, controlled bursts. The structure loomed ahead, a nondescript pub on the surface with an air of quiet secrecy.

Aaron's eyes scanned the surroundings, noting the two burly security men stationed near the entrance. They stood with a casual but vigilant demeanor, their eyes sharp and scanning the crowd. Aaron could see their trained eyes quickly assessing anyone who approached, their presence an intimidating barrier to anyone looking to enter.

He took a moment to assess the situation. Even though his new attire made him blend in with the shadows, he knew that these experienced men would likely see through any facade. Despite his lean build and the slight height advantage he had gained from his training, Aaron realized that his youthful appearance might still give him away as a kid.

'I need to show them I'm not just some amateur,' he thought with determination. He needed to project authority, to give them no reason to doubt his presence or purpose. He had come this far, and he wasn't about to be turned away at the final hurdle.

Aaron took a deep breath, steeling himself. His mind raced with strategies to convey confidence and assertiveness. He adjusted his mask, the white teeth and black rim giving him a menacing edge, putting on his hoodie to hide his unique hair. He would approach them with purpose, using the confidence and authority he had cultivated over the past week of intense training. This was his moment to prove that he belonged in these dark, dangerous circles, and he was ready to seize it.

As Aaron approached the two security men, their eyes narrowed, and one of them called out with a gruff voice, "Hey, kid! This place isn't for you. Go back where you came from."

Aaron didn't break stride. His eyes, cold and focused, locked onto the men. He whispered calmly, "Sleep." The command, infused with cursed energy, had immediate effect. The men's expressions shifted from irritation to confusion before they collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

He walked past them and entered the building. Inside, the atmosphere was a chaotic blend of noise and movement. The blaring music competed with the raucous laughter and animated conversations of the patrons. Aaron's jaw tightened; the scene reminded him of unpleasant memories, a stark contrast to the focused discipline he had embraced.

In a moment of frustration, he set his sights on a nearby beer glass. "Shatter," he muttered. The glass exploded with a sharp crack, the fragments flying and spilling beer across the surrounding crowd. The sudden mess sparked chaos—people argued, jostled, and started throwing punches in response to the unexpected disruption.

As the chaos unfolded, Aaron's gaze fell on a staircase leading downward. He moved through the commotion with purpose, weaving through the crowd and descending the stairs, ready to delve deeper into the unknown.

Aaron descended the stairs and entered a dimly lit room that served as a sort of makeshift office. The air was thick with a mix of old wood and stale beer. Behind a cluttered desk sat a man who looked like a shopkeeper—unshaven, with a tired but wary expression. As soon as the man saw Aaron, he frowned, opening his mouth to say something.

Before the man could utter a word, Aaron cut him off with a sharp command: "Listen." The word, laced with cursed energy, made the man's mouth snap shut. His eyes widened in confusion and fear, unable to speak.

Aaron stepped closer, his voice low and menacing. "I'm here for a job, not for any bullshit. Just listen and answer what I ask. Speak only what I want to hear."

The man, visibly shaken, nodded slowly. His fear was palpable as he managed to croak out, "What name will you use?"

Aaron's lips curled into a smirk as he leaned in slightly. " You can call me….'Silence' " His tone was both dark and playful, making it clear that he was not to be trifled with.