Kairos didn't have much time to process what had just happened. The eerie voice in his mind was gone, but the weight of its words lingered. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was coming for him. His pulse hammered in his ears as he stood at the edge of the rooftop, still reeling from the awakening of his past life.
But then, he felt it—a ripple in the air, something unnatural. His body tensed, and his instincts screamed at him to move. The night around him seemed to still, like the calm before a storm. He wasn't alone anymore.
Who are they? His mind raced, but he didn't have time to question further. There was a shift in the air—something was coming.
Then, like a sudden clap of thunder, the first strike came.
A blast of energy tore through the air, slamming into the rooftop with enough force to send Kairos flying backward. His body slammed against the concrete, the impact taking the breath from his lungs. Pain seared through his chest, but the sting of his wounds barely registered. Something primal stirred within him, pushing him to get up.
Through the ringing in his ears, he could hear the sound of boots on the ground, the unmistakable thud of heavy footsteps. He spun around to see a group of figures emerging from the shadows, cloaked in black armor. Their faces were obscured by masks, their eyes gleaming with cold intent.
The Circle's agents.
Before Kairos could fully comprehend the situation, one of the masked figures raised a hand, and a bolt of pure energy shot toward him. Instinctively, his body moved, the years of combat training from his past lives surfacing as though they had been locked away in the deepest recesses of his mind. With a swift motion, he threw himself to the side, barely avoiding the deadly blast. His body moved with unnatural grace—his muscles were faster, stronger, more attuned than they had ever been.
He landed on his feet, heart racing. It wasn't just luck. The memories of battle, the strategies he had once used as a king and a warrior, were coming back to him in flashes. He could feel the weight of the sword he had once wielded, the precision of his strikes, the control over his every movement.
"Not bad," a voice from one of the figures said, cold and mocking. "But it won't save you."
Kairos' eyes narrowed. He could feel the raw energy building inside him—something deep, ancient, waiting to be unleashed. He wasn't going to run. Not this time.
The agents closed in, and one of them lunged toward him with a battle-axe. Without thinking, Kairos stepped forward, grabbed the man's wrist in mid-swing, and twisted with a precision that felt almost too easy. The agent's weapon clattered to the ground as he fell to his knees in pain, his arm now bent at an unnatural angle.
Kairos spun, using the momentum to his advantage, and delivered a powerful kick to the chest of another agent. The figure flew backward, crashing into a pile of debris. He barely had time to register his victory when a sharp pain shot through his side. A third agent had managed to get close, and a dagger had found its mark.
Kairos gritted his teeth, the sting of the blade burning against his skin, but the pain didn't stop him. Instead, it sharpened his focus. His past selves had survived countless battles; this was just another test.
He reached out with his mind, tapping into the power he didn't fully understand but could feel surging through him. The ground beneath him trembled as the first spark of elemental power ignited within him. His hand outstretched, and suddenly, the air around him crackled with electricity.
With a wave of his arm, a bolt of lightning shot from his fingertips, striking the agent who had attacked him. The agent convulsed and collapsed, the air thick with the smell of ozone. Kairos could feel the power surge through his body as if it had always been there, waiting to be unleashed.
He wasn't done yet. The other agents closed in, but Kairos could sense their every move, like they were moving in slow motion. With a growl, he launched himself at the closest agent, his hands crackling with raw energy. He slammed his palm into the agent's chest, sending a shockwave that sent the man flying across the rooftop, his body bouncing off the concrete like a ragdoll.
For the first time in his life, Kairos felt in control—like the power of his past lives had truly awakened, and he could wield it as his own. But there was no time to savor the victory.
The remaining agents began to back away, exchanging wary glances.
Kairos knew they were regrouping, preparing for another assault. But he wasn't going to give them that chance.
"Enough," he muttered to himself, gritting his teeth. The pain from his injuries was still there, but it barely registered now, drowned out by the adrenaline coursing through his veins. The memories of his past lives—the warriors, the kings, the rulers—taught him one thing: fight to survive. And that's exactly what he intended to do.
With a sharp motion, he raised his hands once more, this time pulling energy from the environment itself. The air around him seemed to warp, twisting as he channeled the power he didn't understand fully yet. His eyes glowed with a blue light, his form silhouetted against the night sky like an ancient god preparing to strike.
The agents moved in, but Kairos was already one step ahead. He unleashed a wave of force so powerful it sent the remaining assailants flying off the rooftop. The blast was like a thunderclap, the force of it rattling the city below.
The rooftop was silent, save for the sound of Kairos' ragged breathing.
He stumbled, his vision spinning, but he steadied himself. His body ached, his side was bleeding, and his energy was spent—but he had won. For now.
As the last of the agents disappeared into the shadows, Kairos let out a shaky breath. He could feel the power surging inside him, demanding to be used, to be understood. But the real question gnawed at him: How long until the Circle sent someone stronger?
He couldn't afford to let his guard down—not when the real battle was only just beginning.
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