Where am I?
Adam opened his eyes slowly.
Warmth kissed his face. The rotten, cold air had been replaced by something woody and alive. Above him, blue sky blazed, and fluffy white clouds drifted, perfect and impossible.
He blinked. Am I seeing things?
He turned his head. Tombs lined both sides of a manicured path; flowers were trimmed, headstones shone as if newly polished. He looked down at his hands. They were whole, unscarred, and small. Child-sized.
Why does my… body feel different?
He rubbed his face. The skin was soft. He slid his fingers through longer hair: silver, not black. He sat up too fast, adrenaline spiking.
This is not my body.
He catalogued the obvious: different hands, different hair, rope-burn marks around the wrists and ankles. Memories slammed back, the cloaked figures, the dangling children.
No. That kid—
Footsteps came from nowhere. Adam snapped his head around. No one was there.
“You’re awake. Good.”
A woman stepped into view. Pale skin, snow-white hair, sapphire eyes that struck like gemstones. Her clothes were practical: brown top, black breeches, knee-high leather boots. She moved with a confidence that made the graves seem smaller.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, leaning forward and producing a water bottle as if it had been in her hand all along. She handed it to him.
Adam stared instead. A sweet scent clung to her. Her voice felt oddly familiar, like a song he almost remembered.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“You can call me Adelaide.”
“Are you one of those cultists?” he demanded.
She laughed softly and tossed the bottle nearer. “You’d be dead if I were. I saved you. The children will live. They’re tired, but alive.” Her smile faded. “Anything else?”
Adam’s mouth opened, closed. He felt his wrists. “Did I—”
“No.” Adelaide shook her head. “He was already gone when I found you. Don’t drown yourself in the guilt of his death.”
Adam didn’t trust the woman’s words, but the alternative was crueler.
“Are you with the trench-coat man?” he asked instead.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Adelaide’s expression softened. “I serve him.”
“Am I free of that demon?” Adam asked, his fingers worrying the hem of his sleeves.
She folded her arms and sat on a nearby headstone. “No,” she said plainly. “You surrendered part of your soul. The demon didn’t devour it all, but it took enough.”
“So it’ll keep hunting me?” he said.
“Not exactly,” Adelaide replied. “You survived demonification. That means you took some of the demon inside you. You’re… half-human, half-demon.”
Adam blinked at her small smile as if it were salt in a wound. “What does that mean for me?”
“That depends on you.” She leaned back on the stone. “Outworld is nothing like your world. Here, demons, magic, other races, and so much more are real.”
Adam felt the ground tilt beneath that. Three moons. Grey flames. Headless corpses. He let out a breath and tried to make sense of it. “Can demons be killed and is there a way for me to go back to my world?” he asked quietly.
“The bridge between realms opens rarely. When it does, few cross and fewer survive,” she said.
Adelaide’s eyes darkened as she continued. “Nothing that lives is immortal. Everything that breathes can be slain.”
Adam met Adelaide’s gaze. “How can I kill that demon? Please… tell me.”
Adelaide didn’t answer right away. She sighed softly and shook her head. “Demons dwell mostly in dungeons,” she said. “The one bound to you came from a Transcendent Dungeon. I’m not qualified to approach such a place. I can sense your rage, but if it only drives you to your death, it’s wasted.”
“I don’t care,” he said flatly. “Just tell me what I have to do to kill it.”
“You must be Awakened.”
Awakened?
He’d seen the term in plenty of fantasy novels and MMOs, but hearing it here—spoken like fact—sent a chill down his spine.
“The Awakened among you humans draw from an ethereal source of power called Blessings,” Adelaide explained.
Adam blinked. Among humans? Isn’t she human too?
“Unfortunately,” she continued, “with your corrupted soul, you’ll never connect to Blessings.”
Adam bit down on his lip. His chest tightened, a familiar heat rising through him. No. There has to be a way. I refuse to accept this.
“Those who chase the power of the Awakened,” Adelaide went on, “often end up as prey for demons. They—”
“Wait.” Adam cut her off. “You’re saying demons can make someone Awakened too?”
Adelaide nodded. “Yes. Demons, their underlings, and anyone tied to them draw power from Omens instead of Blessings.”
“So… only people who’ve sold their souls to demons can Awaken through Omens?”
“It’s as you said,” she confirmed. Then, with a faint smile, “I didn’t expect you to smile at something like that.”
Adam said nothing. I’ve found an answer.
If Blessings were out of reach, then he’d take Omens instead. Whatever it took to kill that demon.
“Can I ask for a favor?” Adam said finally.
“You want to know how to Awaken through Omens, right?” Adelaide asked with a knowing grin.
He nodded. No point hiding it.
“Are you sure you won’t regret it?”
“I won’t. Please—just tell me.”
Adelaide exhaled and let her shoulders drop. “For someone like you, a half-demon, connecting to Omens will be as natural as breathing. You only need to wish—truly wish—to be bound to them. But once the connection forms, it can never be undone. You’ll belong to the Omens forever. Are you certain this is the path you want?”
Adam closed his eyes. He didn’t hesitate. He repeated his wish over and over in his mind until—
[Establishing Connection to Omen…]
Adam’s eyes snapped open. A glowing blue panel hovered before him. Is that… a system notification?
[Connection Established!]
He turned to Adelaide. “Can you see this?”
She didn’t answer—only smiled.
[Arranging Data…]
[Data Arranged!]
Name: Adam Staples
Age: 10
Race: Human and Demonkin
Status: Awakened
Rank: E
Stats
Constitution: 3
Agility: 3
Endurance: 2
Dexterity: 3
Strength: 2
Skills: None
Title: None
Omen Points: None
