Chapter 10: Arc 1: Chapter 10: Nightmare – First Eruption

Midnight in Chicago did not cause the bustling streets near the train station to cease.

Every bar was crowded with people who came for a drink, and under the streetlights on the sidewalk were bold gals attracting customers. Of course, on the edges of the street where the light does not shine were homeless people and drug addicts.

The cars that come and go, the neon lights on the side of the road, and the red and green lights, form a picture of everyday nightlife.

It was a regular day, a typical night.

Until the explosion shakes the streets and the people like a bomb dropped into the water.

"KABOOM!"

The explosion consumes the entire psychic store; the crumbling walls and quaking earth also affect the shops on the sides.

In the rolling black smoke, terrifying crimson red sparks gushes out of the store, shards of broken items were mixed in the smoke and smashes onto the street, making metal sounds as they crash into nearby cars.

The explosion also damaged water pipes and gas mains; as the sparks fly, a secondary explosion appears, but it is weaker than the first.

The panicking crowd storm out of the stores on both sides of the psychic's store, gathering on the other side of the street, chatting amongst themselves while looking at the irregular smoke that circles the psychic's store.

Many believe that the old fraud had done something he shouldn't have, and there were consequences.

Others think it was simply a gasoline explosion, just that the old fraud was unluckier.

Some dialed 911, and moments later, several firetrucks emerged from the darkness; firefighters began their attempt to put out the smoke coming from the store.

In the chaos, nobody noticed. A pale-looking young man, covered with a black rug, staggers into the alleyway using the black smoke as cover.

It was Merlin.

Magic comes and goes quickly.

The dark magic inside him seemed to emerge only to punish the reckless old fraud, as they returned to his body as soon as the storm swallowed the store and its 'psychic' owner.

The young man who became the black storm also shifted back to his human form. He was unharmed, so were his clothes; he even managed to slip the old fraud's wallet while safely escaping the store.

But that doesn't mean he came out unaffected.

It was as if the old fraud unleashed a 'seal' within his body, causing the dormant dark powers within his body to become active once again as if the mana in his soul had awakened.

This power was undoubtedly evil, for it had taken a life the moment it became active; the reckless fraud had used his own life to release Merlin's 'power'.

This wasn't what Merlin had wanted; he had no way of using that power, let alone controlling it.

He could only sense that fiery presence flowing in his blood; god knows what it will do next.                                                                                         

In the alleyway towards the train station, Merlin walks weakly ahead, his fingers still surrounded by a grey fog similar to the black smoke just now, it's so faint you can't even notice it, but that means that the dark magic has begun to infect his body...

He was so pale it looked as if he would drop dead any second, walking wobbly in the shadows, like a weakened ghoul.

The shadows surround him as if they're waiting for Merlin to summon them, but he refuses to do so.

His brain was still a mess. After taking a life passively, he could not think; he could only get as far away from the bells as he could.

It was an ominous item...

Even more dangerous than Trigon's powers, because it had no limitations, at least Trigon's power won't attack indiscriminatingly.

But Merlin doesn't know that something else has happened in the city after he left.

Four hours after the explosion, at 4 am.

After the firefighters extinguished the flames in the psychic's store and collected the remains of the barely breathing, half-dead fraud, the police found something else as they were searching.

"Sir, we found some burnt clothes and a box; these did not belong to old Peter, so we can assume that there was someone else in the store at the time of the explosion."

An officer reports their findings to his senior and the way he says it makes it hard not to think something worse.

"So, you think that there is something more to the explosion than what meets the eye? That it wasn't just an accident?"

His senior, who was called in the middle of the night and has been working until now, was impatient; he sips on his coffee and proceeds without looking at the officer:

"Any other findings? I mean, anything we can use to identify the stranger?"

"Erm, not yet, sir."

The young officer scratches his head, saying:

"It'll take time, you know, cuz it's a lawless block, and old Peter himself was a former criminal with plenty of offenses, so his social circle is pretty chaotic."

"Then go investigate!"

The senior officer slams on the table; he does not care how the old fraud died or who killed him.

He only wishes to return home and get some rest.

But as the junior officer prepared to respond to his superior, the door to his Chicago PD room was opened.

A tall, black man wearing sunglasses and a well-tailored suit enters the room with a briefcase and closes it afterward.

He takes off his glasses, revealing his sharp eyes, and looks at the two officers. He takes out an identification card from his pocket and places it on the sheriff's desk.

The identification card was odd; its emblem was a great eagle spreading its wings in a ring.

On the ring was a name made of three words, the Scientific Strategic Reserve, an odd yet awkward-sounding phrase.

The sheriff glances at the identification, and his face becomes serious. He looks at the quiet-looking black mana and asks:

"When have you guys started managing criminal cases?"

"Oh, we don't manage criminal cases, Sheriff Phils."

The black man pulls a chair and sits facing the sheriff; he says calmly:

"If a case needs our intervention, that means it's not a simple criminal case. Let me reintroduce myself, my name is Nick Fury, a senior agent of the SSR (Strategic Scientific Reserve), and I'm here to deal with the explosion from yesterday; I heard that Chicago PD found something unusual from the site?"

"We found many things."

The sheriff signals to the officer, the latter keeps the file and attempts to leave, but Nick Fury's finger presses on the file.

This gesture was impolite, aggressive, even. This kind of action could be seen as a provocation in a police department.

The young officer takes a glance at the sheriff; the latter nods slightly, so the officer glares at Fury and leaves the room in a huff.

Now that only Fury and himself were left in the room, the sheriff sips on his coffee and glances at Fury; he then takes something out of his drawer, placing the box in front of Fury.

"I believe you've come for this. This is one of old Peter's collections, the entire store was destroyed, yet this was unscathed; I've also received reports from over 4 officers saying that they could hear whispers when they approached the bell; this box was the only thing on site that seemed to be able to silence the bell."

"This thing reminds me of those damn voodoo curses back in Vietnam."

The old sheriff looks at the box in front of him and moves his body, seeming to want to get away from it.

"Yes, this does look like the bell in the myths."

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Agent Nick Fury was unswayed; he reached out and opened the box, revealing the green bell; it acted so ordinary people would think it's just a museum artifact.

"This green bell was made by dark magic; its source is unverifiable, past historical show that it appears once every hundred years. It had been seen across Europe, South America, and in some Indiana tribes, with each appearance causing massive supernatural incidents."

"Your caution is praise-worthy, sheriff; you could say that you just saved everyone in this building."

Agent Fury cautiously places the box into his briefcase and locks it using a passcode involving over 12 letters; he also takes the file from the sheriff's table.

He puts on his sunglasses and nods to the sheriff:

"Sheriff Phils, it is our duty to contain these dangerous objects, and the SSR has taken over this case. Make sure your boys forget about it; it's for the best for both of us."

"Alright."

The old sheriff does not object; in fact, he earnestly wishes for the indifferent black man in front of him to take away this damn bell, but just as Fury was about to exit the room, the sheriff asks:

"How's my old boss, Mr. Pierce?"

"He's fine, and he asked us to come here as soon as we can so you won't get into trouble you can't handle."

Fury looks back and smiles:

"He misses you guys."

"Of course, that's just like him. If it weren't for Pierce, we would've never made it back alive from Vietnam."

The old sheriff chuckles and waves Fury off:

"I won't see you off then; as you can see, we're swamped."

"Mm, goodbye, and good luck, sheriff."

---

"Child? Child, are you alright?"

After leaving Chicago, on the train headed for the next city, Merlin, who was having a nightmare, was woken up by a gentle voice.

He opened his eyes at a loss; under those sunglasses were heavy dark circles, it was clear he had not been resting well.

He sees that the first light of dawn is soon to come through his eyes.

With the help of the train's in-door lights, Merlin gets up from his seat and sees an elderly man with a walking stick looking at him with concern.

The elderly man sees that Merlin's awake and hands him his handkerchief.

"Wipe the blood, child; you look like you need help."

Merlin realizes his nose is bleeding and that the mana corruption is slowly aggravating.

"Thank you."

Merlin takes the handkerchief given by the old man and wipes his nose bleed; he looks out the window into the night and remembers something he shouldn't have forgotten.

"The time, what time is it?"

"Hmm?"

Merlin's question stupefied the elderly man, but the well-dressed elderly man looks at his watch and tells Merlin:

"It's 5:45 am right now, child; what's wrong?"

"6 hours are almost up."

Merlin scratches his head in extreme uneasiness:

"I overslept, shit, time's almost up."

"What time?"

The elderly man asks but sees Merlin get up from his seat and walk towards the next train car, seemingly wanting to leave in the fastest way possible.

At this time, as the train speeds forward, it enters a tunnel, and darkness befalls the train like an ominous sign of what's to come.

Merlin looks back thoughtfully and looks at the elderly man and all the passengers.

Through his second vision, the black fog had fully infested this train car...this entire train.

And the source of the black fog was himself.

"BANG"

A loud bang pushes the fast traveling train, causing it to shake violently.

Merlin's body smacks into the wall repeatedly as the train car rolls, almost causing him to faint.

And what followed was an even more violent vibration and collision, making the whole train come to a screeching halt.

Howling, screaming, and visible panic signals that a catastrophic disaster had come.

Merlin's worst fears were confirmed.

This train that's full of passengers...

Has derailed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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