The Riftborn Hunter

"I thought…" Jenna's voice scraped, hoarse and raw. "I thought the Kains' loser son was blind."

Aiden froze, blood oozing from his shattered arm. Words failed him. What could he even say?

His body was a ruin—each breath stabbed his cracked ribs, muscles shrieking like they'd been torn apart. Golden flickers lingered at his vision's edge, afterimages of near-death still taunting him.

Jenna's stare cut deeper than the pain. Too close. Too knowing.

Silence choked the air.

Aiden coughed, rolling his shoulder—pain flared, and he bit back a curse. "Seriously? I just got mauled, and that's your takeaway?"

Her eyes narrowed, slicing through his dodge. "You saw it move."

He smirked, weak. "Yeah. Saw my pathetic life flash by."

Jenna crossed her arms. "You dodged before it even swung."

"Reflexes," he quipped, shrugging—and regretted it as his side screamed.

She didn't flinch. He didn't either.

A beat—then she sighed, pinching her temple. "You're a crap liar, Kain."

He didn't argue. She had him pegged.

No time for a standoff. The Rift hummed behind them, still open despite the shadow's fall. Aiden swayed, blood-soaked and fading. Jenna wasn't much better—her sword arm shook, blood painting her cheek.

Boots crunched outside the Gate.

Aiden muttered, "Great. Company."

The Hunters Association rolled in—scarred faces and sharp eyes. A Rift that chewed up a squad? They'd be all over it.

Jenna stepped up, voice steady despite her tremble. "Rift fluctuated. Monster wasn't standard—too strong. We got lucky, took it down."

Aiden blinked. That was… generous.

The agent—grizzled, scar splitting his brow—squinted. "Lucky how?"

"Desperation," Jenna said, shrugging. "I stabbed it, it kept coming. He finished it."

The guy's gaze slid to Aiden. "True?"

Aiden paused. Close enough. "Yeah," he said, forcing a grin. "Wild swings and dumb hope."

The agent didn't buy it—his frown deepened. Jenna's jaw twitched.

Then it hit the fan.

Aiden's head swam—exhaustion blurred everything. He forgot the game.

The agent stared, probing.

Aiden stared back. Straight into his eyes.

Jenna choked a noise, then hissed, "You're looking at him, idiot."

His gut dropped. Oh, hell.

He jerked his head aside—fixing on a tree. A riveting, life-or-death tree.

The agent arched a brow. "You alright?"

"Yeah," Aiden mumbled. "Light's… tricky."

Jenna coughed—a laugh she barely stifled. The agent scowled but waved it off, too worn to dig.

They were clear. For now.

Jenna didn't let it slide. She grabbed his arm as the agent left, voice low. "You owe me."

Aiden winced—her grip stung. "For what?"

"For not ratting you out," she snapped. "Yet."

He sighed. "Fine. Debt noted."

She smirked, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Don't test me, Kain."

He grunted, too battered to argue. She'd covered him—this time.

Later, alone in his cramped apartment, Aiden slumped against the wall. Pain throbbed—bones creaked, wounds pulsed like a war drum. Blood crusted his jacket, a grim trophy from the shadow's claws.

He had to know.

What was that power?

He sucked in a breath, focusing.

Golden afterimages sparked—futures flickered ahead. A dodge. A strike. A fall.

He lunged—and stumbled.

His knee hit the floor, hands catching him. "Damn it," he snarled.

The visions were flawless—sharp, seamless. He wasn't.

He tried again—dodging nothing. Too slow. His leg buckled, torn flesh protesting.

Another go—an attack. His arm lagged, snapping pain where it'd broken.

He staggered, hands trembling. "Useless."

His power saw everything—every move, every chance.

His body couldn't keep up.

Not strong enough. Not fast enough. Not enough.

Next fight like that? He'd be dead. No glowy eyes would save him.

Aiden clenched his fists, nails biting skin. "This won't cut it," he growled.

He stared at his shaking hands, resolve hardening.

Next time, he'd match those visions—or die trying.

A shadow shifted outside his window.

His head snapped up—golden eyes flaring.

Someone was watching.