Rain poured down in thin sheets, washing blood off cracked pavement. The street was littered with destroyed cars, shattered storefronts, twitching corpses. Smoke rose in lazy spirals. Jinishi stood in the eye of it all, drenched, steaming, breathing hard. The wind cut across his face, but he didn't feel it.
All he could see were the bodies. All he could hear was the silence after screams. His fists trembled—rage coursing through his veins like venom. He looked at his hands, covered in blood—some of it his, most of it not. "They didn't even have a chance…" he muttered.
One of the monsters tried to crawl away, its lower body mangled. Jinishi didn't hesitate. He stepped forward and brought his foot down, crushing its head with a crunch that echoed in the downpour. The last of them, he had killed every single one. Or so he thought.
A low hum began to rise. In the shadows ahead, glistening eggs began to pulse. One twitched. Then another split open. Dozens of small, fast creatures emerged—fanged, twitching, soulless. They didn't hesitate. They charged. Jinshi bared his teeth. "Come on, then."
But he only got two steps before a flash of blue light exploded beside him. An armored figure dropped down, slamming a glowing palm into the ground. A wave of diamond colored energy swept out and threw the creatures back. Jinshi blinked, his eyes widening. "The hell..?"
Before he could move, a spear of lightning tore through his shoulder and pinned him to a wall. His vision blurred. Pain roared through his chest. The most he could see was a girl with fierce blonde hair. Before he could react, another blast knocked him into the air.
A streak of light hit him mid-air. Then a punch. Then another. And then everything was on fire…before finally fading to black….
When he finally came to, he was lying on a medical cot in a low-lit room, breathing like he nearly drowned. The air was stale and metallic. Tubes ran into his arms. Machines hummed beside him. He winced, trying to sit up, but something warm pressed against his chest. A hand. Glowing light blue.
"Don't move," a voice said. "You tore multiple muscle fibers in your shoulder and one in your diaphragm. You're not built like us."
Jinshi's eyes met hers—pale skin, sharp features, glasses slightly fogged. Her hand glowed with a blue flame, pulsing with perfect precision. "Who are you?" he asked.
"Mikato," she said without looking up. "I'm patching you up." He glanced at her before he then yanked his arm away. "Where the hell am I?" A sigh was heard behind him.
"You're alright," said another voice—this one calm, yet slightly amused. He turned and saw a girl leaning against the wall, arms folded, her blonde hair glowing in the dark room.
"You again," he muttered silently. She smirked. "You've got a bad case of passing out in the middle of a battle it seems." However, Jinishi scoffed before rolling his eyes. "I've got a habit of being ambushed." He mumbled.
"You were about to get swarmed. We intervened." The girl in blonde rebutted. He clenched his fists, his eyes flashing briefly. "I didn't ask for help…not from anyone, and especially not from you."
Mikato didn't even bother to look up. "You would've died."
Silence filled the room for what seemed like hours ...everyone seemed to have been deep in thought…or maybe it was realization…however, the silence soon ended.
Jinshi looked around. The room was wider than he realized—reinforced metal walls, exposed wires, and flickering neon panels. He could hear voices beyond a rusted door—low, focused, militant. "This some kind of underground base?"
"Something like that," the blonde girl said. "It's ours."
Jinshi stood shakily. His reflection in a cracked mirror showed a half-broken version of himself—eyes dimmer, body marked with bruises and scars. He then turned to Mikato. "You said I'm not built like you. What does that mean?"
She met his gaze finally, adjusting her glasses as she spoke. "Your essence, it's different. wounded, but adaptable. Like it's...evolving. Even more than it usually would."
He frowned. He was a tad bit confused on what she meant, questioning her. "Essence?"
The blonde girl once again stepped in. "Impulse Essence. It's what powers us. What makes all this possible...for the most part."
Jinishi's eyes lit up for a moment in awe and disbelief, speaking up. "You're saying I've got powers because of that?"
"No," Mikato continued. "I'm positive you've always had it within you…but something about yours is different. Never in my life of research have I seen anything like it."
Jinshi's heart skipped. A pit opened in his stomach. He felt like his insides were being brutally beaten on, an uncomfortable feeling. "What are you talking about?" he asked.
The blonde girl watched him carefully. "We don't know yet. But what we do know is this—there's something big coming soon, and whether you want to be or not... you're a part of it."
He shook his head in annoyance and exhaustion. "No. No, I'm not part of anything. I just wanted to protect people. I didn't sign up for any of this."
However, she stepped closer, her voice lower and more serious. "None of us did."
The door then abruptly opened, Three figures entering the room.
First was a hulking man with large muscular arms, face stoic and calm. He had brown medium-length wavy hair. He wore a black scarf with a black and gold sleeveless latex-looking suit. He wore gold boots on his feet, and his hands wore golden fingerless gloves, alongside golden arm-guards wrapped on his forearms.
Behind him, a black-haired woman with two swords strapped to her back. Her eyes glowed an unnatural blue color, and she had black markings stretching From her cheeks to right below her eyes. She wore a rather questionable outfit…specifically, some advanced-looking armor.
And last, a gaunt man with tattoos crawling up his body, wearing what seemed to be a simple black long-sleeved shirt, with some black baggy pants and boots. Oddly enough, his hair was also split between a depressing black color and a mystical white color.
Each of them stared at Jinishi for a moment in silence before that silence was then broken. "So," the black-haired woman said, cracking her neck, "this is the rookie?"
"Doesn't look like much," muttered the hulking man. "He's got potential," Saki said. "And we need him." Jinshi tensed. "Need me for what?"
The tattooed man smiled. "To survive." Saki stepped forward. "We're the Rogue Saints. Not heroes. Not villains. Just the ones trying to clean up the mess no one else will touch."
Jinshi looked around, eyes narrowing. "What mess?"
"The Prime Syndicate," Saki said. "The ones pulling the strings. Behind the monsters. Behind the disappearances. Behind the experiments."
His jaw tightened. "So they're the ones I need to kill…sounds easy enough." As Jinishi said this, Saki hesitated to speak, pausing and thinking to herself.
"You don't get it," Mikato said softly. "This isn't about revenge. The Syndicate... they're not just a shadow organization. They're a design. A system. And you're already in it."
Jinshi's blood ran cold. "What do you mean?" Saki met his eyes. "There's a reason you survived that attack. A reason your power doesn't behave like anyone else's. You're not their weapon—but you are tied to their plan. You're connected to something bigger than any of us can understand."
He staggered back, mind racing. He thought he was just a survivor. A victim. But something inside him said otherwise. A flash of memory—those voices in the dark. That symbol burned into the alley wall. The night his powers awakened. The chill in his spine every time he closed his eyes. The Dark Figure who spoke to him not long ago.
And then it hit him. He wasn't simply a survivor. He was chosen…but not for greatness, he was chosen as a target.