The city moved on as always—loud, restless, unaware of the hidden storm slowly building within its streets.
Sean sat at the far end of a cramped boarding house room, his eyes fixed on the ceiling fan spinning lazily overhead.
He had finally rented a small space for himself.
It wasn't much—just a wooden bed with a thin mattress, a battered cabinet, and a cracked mirror—but it was quiet, tucked away from prying eyes.
Sean liked that.
He needed somewhere to think.
His body still felt strange—stronger, sharper.
Sometimes, he would catch himself reacting to sounds or movements before his brain even registered them. His muscles moved on their own, like they had their own memory.
And deep in the pit of his stomach, a quiet hunger kept growing.
Not for food.
For something else.
---
His phone buzzed again.
Pretty.
"Gi-ghost na lagi ko nimo. Nagbinata na sad ka diha?"
("You're ghosting me again. Acting childish over there?")
Sean let out a soft breath, amused.
"Nagkat-on ko'g martial arts sa Utube. Para pang proteksyon."
("I've been learning martial arts on Utube. For protection.")
Pretty replied with a laughing emoji.
"Naa pa diay kay protektahan? Ikaw gani kay daog-daogon ra sauna."
("What's there to protect? You used to get pushed around before.")
Sean smiled faintly.
"Lahi na ron. Ako na'y manukmag."
("Things are different now. I'm the one throwing punches.")
"Hala ka. Buang man ka oi."
("Oh no. You're crazy.")
She added again, clearly laughing behind her words.
Sean stared at the screen a moment longer before setting the phone down.
His expression slowly shifted—serious, distant.
He wasn't joking.
---
Later that night, outside his boarding house, the streets whispered with rumors.
Two old men sat by the sidewalk, playing chess and talking quietly.
"You heard? Another street gang got beaten up near the old railway."
"Yeah. They say it was one man. Moved like a ghost."
Sean, passing by unnoticed, heard every word.
He didn't react.
But deep down, he knew.
That was him.
---
Meanwhile, far across the continent, deep within the Summit Circle's hidden chambers, another discussion unfolded.
Inside a room made of glass and steel, a group of elders sat around a circular table, each wearing a white robe embroidered with symbols of the seven continents.
A younger man stood before them, holding a sealed document.
"Another trace appeared," he reported calmly. "This time, in the Southern Sector. The same artifact signature as before."
The elders exchanged glances.
"It's accelerating faster than expected," one muttered.
Another leaned forward. "The leader's artifact… it's not dormant anymore."
A heavy silence filled the chamber.
The youngest elder spoke firmly, "Send the retrieval squad. Quietly. We must not alert the other Users yet."
"And if the User resists?"
The elder's voice was cold.
"Then we erase him before the other Users catch the scent."
---
Back in the city, Sean walked the quiet alleys once more, his hands in his pockets, eyes scanning the dark streets like a natural predator.
He wasn't looking for trouble.
But trouble always found him.
Not far ahead, he spotted a familiar face—the boy who once tossed him the single peso coin during that first brutal night in the city.
The boy now sat alone by a broken streetlamp, looking thinner, rougher, but still carrying the same sad eyes.
Sean's chest tightened, a strange mix of gratitude and anger rising inside him.
Without thinking, he approached.
The boy flinched, startled.
But Sean simply sat beside him, calm and silent.
For a long minute, neither of them spoke.
Finally, the boy muttered, voice shaking, "Wa ko kabalo nga ikaw to sauna… pasensya na."
("I didn't know it was you back then… I'm sorry.")
Sean's voice was quiet but firm.
"Ako na to sauna. Pero dili na ko mao karon."
("That was me back then. But I'm not the same now.")
The boy looked up, confused.
Sean gave a small, faint smile.
Then he stood up, slipping a folded bill into the boy's hand without a word.
Before walking away, he glanced back once, his voice soft but sharp.
"Ikaw ra'y kahibalo kung asa ka paingon sunod."
("Only you can decide where you're headed next.")
Then he vanished into the night, leaving the boy frozen under the flickering streetlamp.
---
Far above, in the shadows of a rooftop, another pair of eyes watched Sean quietly.
Vega.
Her lips curled into a faint smile again.
"He's not what they expect," she whispered to herself. "But that makes him more interesting."
She adjusted her pendant, vanishing into the darkness once more.
---
Sean kept walking, hands in his pockets, heart steady.
He knew something was coming.
He could feel it in his bones.
And for the first time in a long while, he wasn't afraid.