The first thing I do upon coming here, is of course drink the Essence, I gulp it all down, to the last drop. Tastes like salty lemonade made from sparkling water.
As the liquid goes down my throat, something awakens within me, a force deep down, shining akin to magma in a cave, miles underground. As I drink, the feeling becomes stronger and stronger.
The bottle emptied, I feel a force coursing through my body, as if I were burning from inside, but in a pleasant way. The energy is leaking through my hands, it feels as if I was holding something. An uneven weight, but somehow focused, like water dripping off a damp cloth. Don't really know how to describe the feeling.
I try forcing the energy down, sucking it out from the outer layers of my body, and it works. A flame of strength still remains, waiting to be called on, eagerly burning in my center.
I know how to control this power due to my experience in Chi circulation from back on the old Earth, the energy wasn't capable of doing much except for the manipulation of a candle's flame, but now with this much of it, I would bet to be capable of feats rivalling those of Avatar's firebenders, if I had access to any kind of fire.
Also, it seems that the Jumper has given me a dark hoodie and sweatpants, that's one possible problem resolved before it could become one. Thanks, you're not a complete jerk after all, benefactor.
Now, with the empty Essence bottle in hand, I walk in the opposite direction of where the screams came from. Sorry, but I don't want to die on the first day of my journey.
Coming out onto a cracked sidewalk littered with trash, I look around. The buildings have clearly left their prime a long time ago, enduring stagnation for decades. None of the windows show any light within, so this district may be abandoned. Or it's very late at night. Either way, this seems to be one of the bad parts of the city, even ignoring the state of architecture - the screams I heard earlier are a sign better than any to leave this place as soon as possible, preferably without drawing attention to myself.
And so I turn to the right and start walking through the street, hands tucked into my pockets. While doing so, I internally play with my energy; expand it outside my body, guide it into different bodyparts, concentrate it into a single point, release.
This exercise doesn't have a point, except for being something to do as I stride under the moonlight.
So here I am, on Earth Bet, in Brockton Bay, without any particular goal, excluding getting stronger. What should I do now? Maybe go to the PRT? I have a power after all, they could act as protection until I became powerful enough to be on my own.
Going solo is out, as my Essence's strength advancement curve is similar to that of Tinkers - I am too vulnerable not to be in serious danger due to the possibility of forced recruitment into gangs. It will be some time until I become sure of my power's capability to protect me from any threat the gangs of the Bay could pose.
If I were to apply to become a PRT hero, should I then go for being a Ward, or a Protectorate member? I don't really know how old I am, only that my youth has been restored.
This body certainly isn't one of a child. Hm, I do have a short beard, but then there aren't any visible signs of aging, haven't noticed any pains either. And I seem to have long hair now, as I did in early adulthood.
Alright, my bet is that I'm in my early twenties.
Being a Ward is out, then. Most likely. Probably.
It would be good to at least attempt at convincing the PRT higher-ups not to throw me into the battlefield too early, to let me grow in power, until I am ready. Get the Tinker treatment.
But then, the negative of being associated with the PRT as a Tinker, and possibly with my kind of power as well, would be a wall of red tape - they could require of me to test any and all new spells, enchantments and other uses of magic I may come up with, and then disallow me from using some, due to any number of master, safety, coordination, or whatever concerns.
Though, they are quite desperate for parahumans on their side, I remember the 'good guys' were always outnumbered on Bet, due to the way powers are awakened here. Traumatic events leading to gaining supernatural strengths associated with them in theme, isn't the optimal circumstances to become a hero, and in Brockton the situation is worse than in many of the other US cities, almost critical, with a shaky balance the gangs and law were able to establish.
With that in mind, could I maybe place conditions on my recruitment? Allow to be taken in as a Protectorate Cape, but on the condition that my power not be restricted in any way?
That may be the correct path to take. It would possibly be easier to convince them if I showed my full potential to grow, that I would someday reach the level of the Triumvirate, and beyond, unless someone ended me in the early days.
I stopped, as a hunched over man walked out in front of me, out of a nearby alley, carrying a knife.
He smirked, waving his weapon in front of him.
"Okay buddy, you have two options, either you hand over all your money or I stab ya." he said, slurred.
I did not expect to be met with a lowlife so soon after coming here. Eh, this is a wrong part of the city, and it's night, so it shouldn't have been a surprise that this would happen sooner or later.
I extended my hand and started concentrating on the energy in my body.
He seemed to be a bit distraught for a second there, having stopped his movements, eyeing my hand, but regained his composure a moment later.
"Ya ain't the first person to bluff bein' a cape, it isn't gonna work sonny, last chance, empty yer pockets."
As I brought more and more energy into a point before my hand, a faing glimmer of light emerged.
It grew and grew, it's as if there was a lightbulb in front of me, except there was nothing like that - a translucent white orb, a gathering of life energy, chi, of such high potency that no master of the art on my old world could do anything close to this level. It still is nothing compared to the feats of fictional magic, but...
"Wait! Woah, chill man, I wasn't gunna do nothin'... Just, jus'..." His voice was trembling, his widened eyes didn't leave the energy ball in my hand. He dropped the knife, it hit the asphalt with a cling.
As the orb got brighter, more intense, I saw his resolve shatter.
"Fuck this, I ain't dying to some bullshit power, let Lung deal with this shit" he muttered sharply under his breath, running away to where he came from. Intimidation successful.
I had no idea if this would work, or what would even happen, just figured that concentrating a high enough amount of energy would accomplish something. Absorbing the orb back into my body was faster than creating it, taking only a few seconds.
It seems I am in ABB territory then, with what he said. That narrows down what parts of the city I could be in, not by a lot, but it does.
...Or at least it would, if I remembered what gangs occupied which regions.
One way or the other, I will get to some place if I keep walking in a direction. The city isn't that large, is it? It should be possible to reach a PRT office in a few hours, if I just wander around and maybe ask some people for directions, once the sun rises.
I take the robber's knife, as it could be of use to me, hiding it in my pocket, and keep walking.
Isn't it poetic, that my first act of arcane was to create light? I could interpret this as a new beginning, a light of hope. Or, "יְהִי אוֹר" - "let there be light", as the Creator said. I will harness the power of this Essence to become a Creator myself, in a meaning more literal than the art of creation I practiced as a builder of worlds, artist. Become God.
Although, is it really more literal...?
I must tread carefully, not let my pride consume me, that way lies failure, as a human, and an individual. I have seen great people subsumed by their own image of greatness, seen them succumb to self gratification, stagnation of all progress, being convinced they were always right and that their work is all masterpieces. It is a horrible fate I hope to avoid.
-x-
And so as I walked, the night gave way to day; the first orange hue painted the urban horizon, signifying the coming of the sun.
The unwelcoming district ended as I came to the center of town, there are cafes, shops, there isn't as much trash, and the buildings are in much better condition here.
I even came across an early morning runner - and asked her for directions to the PRT headquarters. She was helpful, and guided me to the front doors of the HQ, bless her, hope she'll have a good life.
So I stand before a glass door, above which the P.R.T logo is situated, proudly standing; an emblem of protection, and of hope for the citizens of this city. How true the message they're trying to convey is, is debatable. Though it's good that they're trying, at least.
Now then, here goes nothing.
I enter.