Ashuras 1

Slow, deliberate clapping broke the heavy silence. Clap. Clap. Clap.

Owen leaned against the side of a nearby building, a cigarette lazily balanced between his fingers, his face lit with a smirk that was equal parts admiration and intrigue. "You know," he drawled, stepping forward, his eyes scanning the carnage Ebilade had left behind, "I was thinking I might need to step in if things got… really serious. But it looks like you never needed saving." His voice was calm, almost amused, as he tucked the cigarette behind his ear. "They were the ones who needed it. Consider me impressed."

Owen's eyes glinted as he motioned with his hand, and in that instant, a bus emerged from around the corner, its headlights flickering to a halt before the brutalized group on the ground. Without any fuss, a group of people exited the bus, moving efficiently and silently. They bent down, gathering the groaning, beaten boys one by one, carrying them into the bus like a well-rehearsed drill.

Ebilade watched them, a flicker of curiosity crossing his usually impassive face. There was a smoothness to Owen's actions, as though he'd anticipated the entire situation. The way he leaned, his fingers stilling thoughtfully near his pocket, suggested he wasn't a stranger to scenes like this.

As the last boy was loaded onto the bus, Owen moved toward the open door but paused, turning his head just enough to catch Ebilade's gaze. His eyes held a glint of something unsettling—something that said he wasn't done, that he'd marked this moment, marked Ebilade.

"Now I'm watching you," Owen murmured, his voice low, a hint of warning wrapped in casual indifference. A smile played at the corner of his mouth, just enough to leave Ebilade wondering.

With that, Owen boarded the bus, leaving Ebilade standing in the eerie quiet, the echoes of his words lingering long after the bus had vanished into the night.

A soft chime echoed in Ebilade's mind, distinct yet somehow intimate, like a whisper only he could hear.

Ding!

[Detected: Host has encountered and defeated an Ashura. Sign in to claim a special reward.]

Ebilade's brow furrowed, his gaze drawn to the faintly glowing system panel that appeared in his mind's eye. He cocked his head slightly, curiosity mingling with a hint of suspicion. "Ashura?" he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper, eyes narrowing in thought. "What exactly is an Ashura?"

The term felt foreign yet oddly familiar, as though tugging at some ancient, buried instinct. Still, if his system thought it was worth mentioning, there was likely something valuable in store. He shrugged slightly, flexing his bruised knuckles, and decided to go along with it. "Alright," he said with a faint smirk. "Let's see what this reward's about."

As soon as he confirmed the sign-in, a rush of energy surged through him, raw and potent, sending a shiver down his spine. Information flooded his mind, and he could almost feel the essence of something dark, ancient, and powerful settling into his bones.

[Rewards Claimed:]

Ashura's Bloodline Awakening

Ashura's Wrath – Skill Unlocked

Indomitable Will – Passive Enhancement

Ashura's Eye – Perception Upgrade

Ebilade's breath hitched, feeling his body adjust as each reward took root, reshaping him on a fundamental level.

First, there was the bloodline—a hot, pulsing fire igniting within him, one that felt alive and fierce, like an unquenchable flame that licked at his veins. He clenched his fists, feeling his muscles tighten, strength coiling beneath his skin, his senses sharper, more attuned to the energy around him. His movements, once fluid, now had a certain edge, as if honed for battle.

Ashura's Wrath brought with it a surge of wild power, something primal and ferocious. He instinctively knew how to tap into it, unleashing destructive force with ease. It was a skill that promised an overwhelming power, a storm he could summon at will—and he could feel it humming beneath the surface, waiting to be unleashed.

A calm, steady sense of purpose filled him as Indomitable Will took hold, like a pillar of iron bracing his mind. Challenges, intimidation—none of it would sway him. He was an immovable force, and the fire in his eyes glinted with that newfound resolve.

And finally, Ashura's Eye opened his perception, sharpening his vision to a clarity that was almost otherworldly. Colors were richer, details sharper—he could read the slightest twitch in a person's expression, catch every shift in their posture, every whisper of intent before it was fully formed.

He exhaled slowly, a slight smirk tugging at his lips as he tested out his newfound senses, looking around as though seeing the world anew.

"Well," he murmured, flexing his fingers as he studied the faint glow still surrounding him. "Looks like I got more than I bargained for."

There was a confidence in his stance now, something subtly different—an ease, a natural strength that seemed to emanate from him. He knew, without question, that he'd become something more than before, something… formidable.

The remnants of his smirk lingered as he walked away, each step purposeful, leaving behind the empty, blood-stained street. And as he faded into the shadows, one thing was certain—whatever he faced next, he'd be ready.

With a single, confident glance around, Ebilade's smirk deepened. His fingers, still tingling from the rush of his newly awakened power, flexed one last time before he settled into a stance that felt somehow lighter—stronger. He took a slow, measured breath, letting his gaze drift to the empty street where Owen had just vanished, the faint scent of cigarette smoke lingering in the air. A thoughtful glint flickered in his eyes, as if to say he, too, would be keeping watch. The smirk softened but lingered, a quiet promise that he welcomed the challenge, the unknown.

Without a word, he adjusted his coat, flicking a speck of dust off his shoulder with deliberate, almost ritualistic precision. He took a step forward, his figure shifting as he vanished into the night in a streak of shadowed motion, swift and untraceable.

The cityscape blurred around him as he leapt from rooftop to rooftop, each movement fluid and controlled, his senses drinking in the sharpened details. Buildings rushed by in a cascade of muted colors, his eyes picking out even the finest details in the dim light: the flickering of neon signs, the distant hum of a streetlamp, the soft creak of a window swinging open somewhere far below. He moved like a whisper, silent and seamless, blending into the night as if born of its very shadows.

As he landed gracefully atop a high-rise, Ebilade paused, taking in the city spread beneath him. His eyes, now honed with the Ashura's heightened perception, traced every movement far below, catching even the subtlest gestures of the people going about their lives. He sensed their emotions, felt the faint tug of their thoughts, saw the flicker of intent in their gazes, their body language giving away whispers of secrets they believed hidden.

He chuckled softly, the sound low and filled with newfound awareness, then straightened, casting one last look at the night sky, as though he could already sense the weight of whatever challenges lay ahead. His fingers brushed his jaw thoughtfully, considering all he'd just gained.

"Let's see what else this world has to offer," he murmured under his breath, the trace of a smile fading into the shadow of his resolve.

And in an instant, he was gone, a dark silhouette fading into the silence, swallowed by the night, with only the city lights left twinkling far below.