Marcus spent the day in careful preparation. He attended his classes at Lincoln Standard, participating just enough to avoid standing out. During lunch, Sarah interrogated him about his mysterious "breakthrough," and he deflected with vague technical explanations that satisfied her curiosity without revealing anything substantial.
But his mind was elsewhere, running through scenarios for tonight's meeting.
Someone knew about the Slaughterhouse. The question was how much they actually knew, and what they wanted. The message suggested leverage—blackmail, most likely. They wanted something from him.
*Foolish,* Marcus thought during his history class, barely listening as the teacher droned on about pre-awakening conflicts. *If they truly understood what I am, they wouldn't try to extort me. They'd either run or attack immediately.*
This meant his mysterious contact had incomplete information. They'd seen something at the Slaughterhouse, made connections, but didn't grasp the full scope of his capabilities.
That ignorance would be their death sentence.
After school, Marcus returned home briefly. His parents were still on extended patrol—the increased villain activity his mother had mentioned was keeping the city's C-rank heroes busy. Perfect. He wouldn't need to make excuses for his late-night absence.
He descended to his laboratory and addressed his monsters.
"Beta-One through Beta-Five," Marcus commanded. "You'll accompany me tonight. Compressed form until needed."
The five commander-tier creatures acknowledged and shrank to portable size. Marcus distributed them across his jacket's interior pockets. Alpha-One through Alpha-Six went into his backpack. The remaining monsters—the vast swarm of micro-monsters and awakened-tier creatures—would stay in the laboratory on standby, ready to be summoned if needed.
Marcus checked his equipment: chemical compounds, syringes of paralytic venom, his containers for specimen collection. He was prepared for combat, capture, or negotiation, depending on what the situation demanded.
By 10:30 PM, Marcus was in position near Pier 17.
---
The pier district was one of Neo-Seattle's oldest industrial zones, a sprawling complex of docks, warehouses, and shipping containers. During the day, it bustled with legitimate commerce. At night, it belonged to smugglers, black-market dealers, and those who preferred to conduct business away from hero patrols.
Pier 17 specifically was abandoned, its warehouse condemned after a fire three years ago. The structure stood at the water's edge, half-collapsed, a skeleton of rust and charred wood. It was isolated from the main dock activity, visible only if you knew where to look.
Marcus approached from the south, his micro-monsters scouting ahead. They detected three heat signatures inside the warehouse—humanoid, one significantly cooler than baseline human temperature, another warmer. Awakened abilities affecting body temperature, most likely.
*Three opponents,* Marcus assessed. *Confident enough to meet me directly but cautious enough to bring backup. Likely mid-tier criminals or low-rank villains.*
He entered through the warehouse's main door, which hung askew on broken hinges. Inside, moonlight filtered through holes in the ceiling, casting irregular patterns across debris-strewn floor. The smell of burnt wood and saltwater was thick in the air.
Three figures waited in the center of the space.
The leader stood at the front—a woman in her late twenties with pale skin and white hair, wearing dark combat gear. Her eyes were completely black, no visible iris or pupil. Behind her stood two men: one covered in ice crystals that grew from his skin, the other radiating visible heat that distorted the air around him.
"Marcus Vail," the woman said. Her voice had an unusual quality, like multiple tones layered over each other. "Age sixteen. Student at Lincoln Standard High School. Registered as Null after failing to awaken during the ceremony two weeks ago. Parents are C-rank heroes Helen and David Vail."
Marcus stopped twenty feet away, hands in his pockets. "You have my attention. Who are you?"
"You can call me Whisper." She gestured to her companions. "Frost and Burn. We represent an organization interested in unusual talents."
"I'm a Null. No talents to interest anyone."
Whisper smiled, revealing teeth that were slightly too sharp. "Don't insult my intelligence. We've been watching you, Marcus. We know you were at the Slaughterhouse two nights ago. We know nineteen bodies disappeared from that facility. And we know you're responsible."
"That's a serious accusation. Do you have proof?"
"We have surveillance from a camera you missed." Whisper pulled out a phone, tapping the screen. "Not much, admittedly. Just a teenage boy in dark clothing entering and leaving the sub-basement. But combined with witness reports of a powerless student asking unusual questions about genetic engineering, making late-night excursions, exhibiting behavioral patterns consistent with secret awakening..."
She pocketed the phone. "We put the pieces together."
Marcus considered this. They had circumstantial evidence at best—a grainy video and speculation. But they were perceptive enough to make the connection. That required either exceptional intelligence or inside information.
"Assuming I am what you think I am," Marcus said carefully, "what do you want?"
"Recruitment." Whisper took a step closer. "My organization values unique abilities, especially those that operate outside standard classifications. A Null who can somehow kill nineteen awakened criminals? That's extremely valuable."
"And if I refuse?"
"Then this video goes to the Hero Association, along with our analysis. They'll investigate you. Search your home, your school, everywhere you've been. They'll find something eventually—they always do. And when they discover you're not actually powerless..." She spread her hands. "Well. The Association doesn't take kindly to those who hide dangerous abilities."
Behind her, Frost and Burn moved to flank Marcus, cutting off easy escape routes. They were positioning for combat if negotiation failed.
Marcus felt his monsters stirring in response to his elevated alertness. He could kill all three in seconds. But that would be wasteful. These people had information—an organization, surveillance capabilities, intelligence networks. That was more valuable than their corpses.
For now.
"Who's your organization?" Marcus asked.
"We call ourselves the Archive. We collect information, trade in secrets, and occasionally recruit talented individuals for special projects." Whisper's black eyes seemed to absorb the moonlight. "We're not heroes or villains. We're... pragmatists. We survive by knowing things others don't."
"And you want me to work for you."
"With us, not for us. Partnership. You provide your unique services when needed, and we provide resources, protection, and information. Like the fact that Black Talon is planning to hit a major Essence shipment in three days at the port. Estimated value: twelve million dollars."
Marcus's expression didn't change, but internally he recalculated. They knew about Black Talon's plan. That meant their intelligence network was substantial. In his previous life, he'd never heard of an organization called the Archive—which meant they either operated so secretly that even his future self hadn't discovered them, or they were destroyed before his original timeline's knowledge cutoff.
"How did you find me?" Marcus asked.
"We monitor unusual death patterns in the city. Nineteen awakened criminals dying simultaneously in what authorities are calling a gang conflict?" Whisper smiled. "That's not a gang conflict. That's a predator. We backtracked from the scene, found the video footage, and started looking for individuals with possible motives and unusual behavior. You were one of three suspects. The other two checked out as normal. You didn't."
"You're very thorough."
"We have to be. Information is our only defense in a world run by the super-powered." Whisper extended her hand. "So. Do we have a deal? Join the Archive, and you'll have access to intelligence that would take years to acquire on your own. Refuse, and... well. I think you understand the alternative."
Marcus looked at the extended hand. Frost and Burn had positioned themselves at optimal striking distance—fifteen feet each, angles that would allow simultaneous attack. Whisper herself stood perfectly still, radiating confidence.
They thought they had him cornered. Thought their information gave them power over him.
Time to correct that misunderstanding.
"I have a counterproposal," Marcus said.
"I'm listening."
"You join me. Provide your intelligence network and resources voluntarily. In exchange, I let you live."
The warehouse fell silent. Frost and Burn exchanged glances. Whisper's smile faded.
"You're bluffing," she said flatly. "Three awakened against one Null? Even if you have some hidden ability, you're outnumbered and outmatched."
"Am I?" Marcus pulled his hands from his pockets. "Let me demonstrate something."
He released Beta-One.
The monster erupted from his jacket, expanding from compressed form to full size in less than a second. The creature that had been the ice manipulator now stood nine feet tall, its body covered in crystalline armor that reflected the moonlight like fractured diamonds. Six arms ending in razor-sharp claws. A head that seemed to exist in multiple dimensions simultaneously, folding space around it.
Frost stumbled backward. "What the fuck—"
"That's one," Marcus said calmly. He released Beta-Two through Beta-Five in sequence.
Beta-Two: Converted from the energy projector. Humanoid but covered in circuits that glowed with internal light, capable of firing concentrated beams from multiple points on its body.
Beta-Three: The armored mutant, now enlarged and enhanced. Twelve feet of muscle and chitin, its claws dripping with acid.
Beta-Four: The gravitational manipulator. Its presence made reality itself feel heavy, space distorting in its vicinity.
Beta-Five: The fire manipulator, wreathed in flames that cast dancing shadows across the warehouse walls.
Five commander-tier monsters surrounded Whisper and her companions. Each one radiated power that made the air itself feel oppressive.
"Still think I'm outnumbered?" Marcus asked.
Whisper's composure cracked. Her black eyes widened as she processed what she was seeing. "You're not a Null. You're not even a normal awakened. You're a..."
"Monster creator," Marcus supplied. "And these are just five of my weaker creations. I have two hundred and thirty-seven more in reserve."
Frost's ice crystals spread rapidly across his body, a defensive reflex. Burn's heat intensified, flames flickering across his skin. Both were preparing for a fight they couldn't win.
"Here's what's going to happen," Marcus continued, his voice never rising above conversational volume. "You're going to tell me everything about the Archive. Leadership structure, member count, resources, current operations. Then you're going to work for me, providing intelligence as needed. In exchange, I won't transform you into monsters."
"You're insane," Whisper hissed. "The Archive has contingencies. If we don't report back—"
Beta-Four raised one clawed hand. The gravitational field around Whisper intensified, driving her to her knees. The concrete beneath her cracked from the pressure.
"Let me be very clear," Marcus said, walking closer. "I'm not interested in your contingencies or your threats. I've killed over twenty awakened individuals in the past two weeks. Nineteen at the Slaughterhouse, three at Blackwater, two before that. All without leaving evidence. All without being caught."
He crouched in front of Whisper, meeting her terrified black eyes. "Your organization survives by trading information. I respect that. It's useful. But you made a critical mistake: you thought information was power. It's not. This"—he gestured to his monsters—"is power. Information is just a tool."
"Please," Whisper gasped against the crushing gravity. "We can work together. I wasn't lying about that. The Archive has resources you need—"
"I know. That's why I'm offering you a choice." Marcus signaled Beta-Four to release the pressure. Whisper collapsed, gasping. "Work for me willingly, and you keep your humanity. Refuse, and you become materials for my next creation. Either way, I get what I want."
Frost made his move—a desperate lunge, ice forming into blade-like projectiles that fired at Marcus.
Beta-One intercepted them effortlessly, its crystalline armor absorbing the impact. Then it moved, faster than something its size should be able to, and grabbed Frost by the throat.
"Wait!" Frost choked out. "Wait, I'll—"
Beta-One lifted him off the ground. Through their connection, Marcus sensed the monster's hunger. It wanted to consume, to grow stronger by adding Frost's abilities to its own.
"Marcus, stop!" Whisper struggled to her feet. "Don't kill him! We'll cooperate! We'll tell you everything!"
Marcus considered for a moment, then nodded. Beta-One released Frost, who collapsed coughing.
"Smart choice," Marcus said. "Now. Start talking. What is the Archive?"
---
Over the next hour, Whisper explained everything.
The Archive was a information broker organization that had operated in Neo-Seattle for eight years. Founded by a precognitive named Oracle who could see possible futures, the group specialized in gathering and selling intelligence to the highest bidder—heroes, villains, corporations, anyone willing to pay.
Current membership: forty-three individuals, most with surveillance or information-gathering abilities. Leadership consisted of Oracle and four lieutenants, of which Whisper was one. Their headquarters was a safehouse in the financial district, disguised as a data analytics company.
Resources included: extensive surveillance networks across the city, contacts in law enforcement and the Hero Association, blackmail material on numerous public figures, and a database of every known awakened individual in Neo-Seattle.
"Oracle saw you coming," Whisper admitted, her voice defeated. "Not clearly—your future is somehow obscured, which is extremely unusual. But she saw enough to know you were dangerous. She ordered us to recruit or eliminate you before you became a serious threat."
"Precognition," Marcus mused. "Interesting. How accurate is Oracle's ability?"
"Variable. She sees possibilities, not certainties. The more awakened abilities involved in a timeline, the cloudier her vision becomes. And you..." Whisper shook her head. "You broke her models. She couldn't see past your awakening. Said your future was 'dark and empty,' whatever that means."
Marcus smiled. In his previous life, he'd studied precognitive abilities extensively. They worked by processing quantum probabilities and extrapolating likely outcomes. But his rebirth had fundamentally altered the timeline—his knowledge of future events, his monsters, his actions were all outside the original probability stream. To a precognitive, he would appear as a blank space, an anomaly that couldn't be predicted.
"Where is Oracle now?"
"The safehouse. She rarely leaves it. She's paranoid about being targeted by enemies who want her dead."
"Smart. Precognitives make valuable targets." Marcus stood, brushing dust from his pants. "Here's what happens next. You return to the Archive and tell Oracle that you've successfully recruited me. As far as your organization knows, I've agreed to work with you in exchange for information about Black Talon's heist."
"And in reality?"
"In reality, you're going to be my agents inside the Archive. You'll provide me with everything Oracle sees, everything the Archive knows. When I'm ready, I'll consume your entire organization and add it to my resources."
Whisper's face paled. "Oracle will see through the deception. She'll know—"
"Will she? You said I'm a blind spot in her predictions. She can't see my future or my actions. All she'll see is you returning successfully with an agreement in place." Marcus's smile widened. "And every time she tries to look at me, she'll see nothing. Just darkness. That will terrify her more than any direct threat."
It was psychological warfare. Oracle's precognition was her greatest asset, but against Marcus, it was useless. That helplessness would eat at her, make her paranoid, cause her to second-guess every decision.
"You're a monster," Whisper whispered.
"Not yet. But I'm working on it." Marcus turned to Frost and Burn, who'd remained silent throughout the interrogation. "You two understand your positions? Work for me, provide useful intelligence, and you live. Betray me, and you become test subjects."
Both men nodded quickly.
"Good. Whisper, give me Oracle's direct contact information. I want a secure channel for communication that bypasses the Archive's normal systems."
Whisper hesitated, then pulled out her phone and shared the encrypted contact. Marcus saved it to his own device.
"One more thing," Marcus said. "The surveillance video you mentioned. Destroy it. All copies."
"Done." Whisper tapped her phone. "Deleted from our servers."
"Excellent." Marcus signaled his monsters to return to compressed form. They shrank obediently, and he stored them back in his jacket and backpack. "You're free to go. Report back to Oracle. Tell her the recruitment was successful. I'll contact you when I need information about Black Talon's operation."
The three Archive agents scrambled toward the exit, clearly desperate to escape. At the doorway, Whisper paused and looked back.
"You're going to destroy the city," she said quietly. "Oracle saw that much. Darkness spreading from a single point, consuming everything. She couldn't see the details, but she saw the result. Neo-Seattle becoming something... wrong."
"Then Oracle sees correctly," Marcus said. "Now go. And remember: I can find you anywhere. My monsters are in the shadows, in the water, in the very air you breathe. If you betray me, you'll never see them coming."
Whisper fled.
Marcus waited thirty minutes after they left, ensuring they weren't circling back or calling for reinforcements. His micro-monsters confirmed the area was clear.
*The Archive,* Marcus thought, processing everything he'd learned. *Forty-three information specialists, a precognitive leader, extensive surveillance networks. In the wrong hands, dangerous. In my hands, invaluable.*
He'd just acquired an intelligence agency without firing a shot. Whisper and her companions were now his unwitting agents, feeding him information while believing they were managing him. And Oracle's blind spot regarding his future meant she couldn't see the trap closing around her organization.
Within a month, maybe two, he'd have enough leverage to consume the Archive entirely. But for now, keeping them operational was more useful than destroying them.
Marcus checked his phone. 1:30 AM. He should return home before his parents finished their patrol.
As he walked back through the pier district, Marcus reviewed his upcoming priorities:
**Immediate:** Use the Archive's information to plan the assault on Black Talon and the Essence shipment heist.
**Short-term:** Continue expanding his monster army and testing new creation methods.
**Medium-term:** Consume the Archive organization and Oracle's precognitive ability.
**Long-term:** Establish dominance over Neo-Seattle's criminal underworld while maintaining his powerless student cover.
Everything was proceeding ahead of schedule. In his previous life at this age, he'd been a depressed Null working part-time jobs and dreaming of college. Now, he commanded an army of monsters and was positioning himself to control the city's information networks.
*Fifty years of knowledge compressed into two weeks of action,Marcus reflected. The benefits of rebirth.
His phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number—Oracle's encrypted line that Whisper had provided:
I don't know what you are, Marcus Vail. I can't see you. But I see what you leave behind. Darkness. Transformation. The end of everything human. Whatever agreement Whisper made, know this: I will find a way to see your future. And when I do, I will stop you.
Marcus smiled and typed his response:
Good luck with that. The future is already written, Oracle. You just can't read it anymore.
He deleted the conversation and continued home.
In the shadows behind him, unseen and unnoticed, ten of his micro-monsters followed Whisper's trail. They would track her back to the Archive's safehouse, map the building, identify all entrances and security measures.
By tomorrow, Marcus would know everything about the Archive's headquarters.
And Oracle, despite her precognition, would never see him coming.
Marcus slipped back into his house at 2:45 AM. His parents' bedroom light was off—they'd returned from patrol and gone straight to sleep. He climbed the stairs silently, entered his room, and locked the door.
The meeting had gone better than expected. He'd gained three agents, a communication line to a precognitive, and detailed intelligence about an organization he could harvest later.
But more importantly, he'd learned something valuable: his rebirth made him invisible to precognition. That was an enormous advantage. In a world where some people could see the future, being unpredictable was a superpower in itself.
Marcus pulled out his laptop and began organizing the information Whisper had provided. The Archive's database access codes, surveillance protocols, member profiles, operational procedures. All of it now his to exploit.
He created a new encrypted folder labeled "Archive Consumption Project" and began planning.
Within it, three sub-folders:
Phase 1: Intelligence Gathering - Use Whisper and her companions to map the organization completely. Identify all members, resources, and defensive capabilities.
Phase 2: Isolation - Systematically eliminate the Archive's external connections and support networks. Make them dependent on his information.
Phase 3: Consumption - Strike when they're most vulnerable. Convert Oracle and her lieutenants into commander-tier monsters, absorb the remaining members, seize all resources.
Timeline estimate: Six to eight weeks.
Marcus saved his work and shut down the laptop. His micro-monsters were returning from tracking Whisper, bringing with them mental maps of the route to the Archive's safehouse. Perfect.
He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind already moving to the next objective: Black Talon and the Essence shipment.
According to Whisper, the shipment was worth twelve million dollars in crystallized Essence. That much pure energy could create hundreds of high-tier monsters. But Black Talon would be guarding it with fifteen to twenty C-rank villains, led by a B-rank.
In a direct confrontation, Marcus would likely lose. His monsters were numerous but individually weak compared to experienced villains. He needed to be strategic, use terrain advantages, create chaos.
Hit them during the heist itself, Marcus planned. Let Black Talon fight the security forces first. They'll be weakened, distracted. Then I strike, consume both sides, and take the Essence.
It was ambitious. Possibly too ambitious. But the potential rewards were enormous.
His phone buzzed again. This time, Sarah:
Can't sleep. You up?
Marcus considered ignoring it, then responded: Yeah. Studying.
Liar. Nobody studies at 3 AM. Want to talk?
About what?
I don't know. Life. Being powerless. How much it sucks that our worth is determined by something we can't control.
Marcus paused, reading the message. Sarah sounded depressed. He should probably ignore it, maintain professional distance. But she was his cover, his connection to normalcy. Letting that relationship deteriorate would be counterproductive.
Meet me at the 24-hour coffee shop on 5th? 20 minutes?
The response came quickly: Really? You'd actually hang out with me at 3 AM?
Why not. Neither of us can sleep anyway.
You're weird, Marcus Vail. I like it. See you there.
Marcus sighed and stood up. He'd just conquered three awakened agents, established himself as a threat to a precognitive organization, and planned the consumption of a major villain group.
Now he was going to drink coffee with a depressed teenage girl and pretend to care about normal teenage problems.
The duality of his existence was almost amusing.
He grabbed his jacket, checked that his parents were still asleep, and climbed out his window.
Just another night in the life of Neo-Seattle's future monster sovereign, Marcus thought as he dropped to the ground.
Above him, the city glittered with lights, completely unaware of the darkness growing in its depths.