Chapter 25. Real Life Superhero

  Raven woke early, his sleep restless and filled with strange, fragmented dreams he could barely recall. The lingering unease sat heavy on his mind, but he pushed it aside. He had other things to focus on.

  After speaking with Uri the night before, he realized he had been underutilizing a major resource—the shop. If the ledger could provide tools, weapons, and traits, it could likely provide knowledge as well.

  Making his way to the cafeteria, Raven approached the ledger stand and placed his hands on its surface. He focused his intent on learning about the Sink. For the first time, the number of available options staggered him.

  Hundreds—no, thousands of titles.

  He scrolled through them, overwhelmed. There was no way he could go through all this information. Focusing harder, he narrowed his search to ether and survival. The options shrank to a more manageable number, though still dozens of choices remained.

  At the top of the list, one title stood out immediately.

  Ellecrast: A History - The Founding of the Greatest City on Eiladon -9.

  Raven’s brow furrowed. What the fuck was Eiladon -9?

  The book cost eighty ether. He hesitated only a moment before pushing his energy into the ledger. As the ether drained from him, he expected to feel completely spent—but to his surprise, he still had some left.

  The book materialized before him, old and leather-bound, embossed with strange yet elegant symbols across the cover. Gripping it, he left the cafeteria and found an unused room, eager to begin reading.

  As he flipped through the pages, Raven’s mind raced with revelation after revelation.

  Eiladon -9 wasn’t just another city. It wasn’t even on Earth.

  It was another planet. Another galaxy. Maybe even another universe. The book didn’t specify Earth’s relation to it.

  Raven was stunned.

  The realization that other worlds existed—that people had built thriving civilizations on them—felt like a punch to the gut. He had assumed Earth was alone in all of this. Clearly, it wasn’t.

  He continued reading, fascinated. The book provided a historical account of how Ellecrast had started—a struggling settlement that grew into a massive capital city.

  One passage stood out: “Ether Sinks are a natural phenomenon, forming where ether pools beneath the surface. As they develop, they pull energy from the environment, stabilizing and growing stronger. Once a Sink reaches sapling stage, it will begin actively drawing ether from surrounding areas, consolidating its power.”

  Raven’s eyes widened. Sinks were natural. They weren’t just part of the Reckoning.

  The book hinted at a universal truth—any great city needed to be built on a Sink, or it would inevitably fail. But not every Sink became a city. Some collapsed before they could grow. Some were abandoned, lost to time. Only those with the right leadership survived.

  Raven kept reading, engrossed, until a knock on the door startled him.

  He looked up, blinking as reality settled back in. The sun was well and truly up. He had been reading for hours.

  Wilkes stood in the doorway, arms crossed. "I was starting to think you got lost in here."

  Raven got to his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. "Shit—sorry. I meant to come find you sooner."

  Wilkes waved off the apology. "Find anything useful?"

  Raven nodded and explained what he had learned. He described the early days of Ellecrast, how it had been built on an Ether Sink, much like their hospital. He talked about basic constructs—water collection, filtration, farms, and workshops.

  Surprisingly, most of the buildings in Ellecrast’s early days weren’t created magically. Instead, they were crafted by skilled tradesmen, people whose traits were designed for creation.

  Wilkes listened intently, nodding along. "That’s useful information. When you’re done with the book, I’d like to read it myself."

  "Of course," Raven said without hesitation. "You should also talk to Carter—he’s got ether now. He should be using it to buy knowledge."

  Wilkes gave him a thoughtful look before nodding. "Not a bad idea."

  Then, his expression shifted slightly as he studied Raven. "How are you holding up? After last night?"

  Raven shrugged. "I’m fine."

  Wilkes arched an eyebrow. "Fine? After dealing with a bunch of murdering slavers and fighting off some kind of fire-breathing demon dog?"

  Raven leaned back against the table, exhaling. "I don’t know what you want me to say. People are always going to be shitty. I’m not surprised. And as for the dog... well, I survived."

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Wilkes’s jaw tightened. "I get it. Doesn’t mean you should have to deal with it alone."

  Raven didn’t respond. He wasn’t sure he agreed.

  "Either way," Wilkes continued, "There’s another meeting in a few hours. I want you there."

  Raven sighed. "What’s it about?"

  "Planning proper living spaces. We need to provide real shelter, not just scattered beds. If more people start showing up, we need to be ready. We’re not just surviving anymore. We’re building something, whether we meant to or not."

  Raven ran a hand through his hair, already dreading another meeting. But Wilkes was right.

  "Fine," he said. "I’ll be there."

  Wilkes nodded. "Good. See you soon."

  As Wilkes left, Raven sat back down, staring at the book in front of him. The knowledge inside felt bigger than him, bigger than just the hospital.

  Ellecrast had started just like this place. A Sink, a few survivors, and a question of what came next.

  Maybe they weren’t so different after all.

  Before the meeting, Raven found himself heading toward the surgery. He owed Anny a thank-you—and maybe an explanation.

  The surgery room was quiet when he arrived. Anny was awake, sitting up in bed, talking with her sister. The moment Raven stepped inside, both sisters turned to look at him.

  Anny smiled.

  Tabetha launched herself at him.

  Raven barely had time to brace before the girl slammed into his chest, wrapping her arms around him with a force that nearly crushed his ribs.

  Caught completely off guard, he hesitated before awkwardly returning the hug.

  "Alright, alright—Jesus, kid, I need to breathe!" He wheezed, prying her arms free.

  Tabetha beamed up at him, her eyes wide with relief and gratitude. "Thank you! Thank you so much! You saved us!"

  Raven shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t feel like a hero.

  "You’re welcome," he said simply before nodding toward Anny. "Mind if I come in?"

  Tabetha nodded enthusiastically, rushing to grab a chair to place beside the bed.

  Anny was watching him closely. "You okay?" she asked, her voice softer than before.

  "I should be asking you that," Raven countered, sitting down.

  Anny chuckled, rolling her shoulder experimentally. "Honestly? I feel fine. Probably don’t even need to be in bed anymore, but Carter told me to rest until he comes back."

  Raven leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. "Smart move. You took a knife to the shoulder. That’s not something you just walk off."

  Raven extended his hand, a rare moment of formality creeping into his usual demeanour. "I don't think we actually had a chance to introduce ourselves."

  Anny smiled, reaching out to shake his hand. "Annastasia. But most people call me Anny." She gestured toward the younger girl beside her, whose grin was still beaming from ear to ear. "And this is Tabetha, my little sister."

  Tabetha bounced on her feet, her energy still buzzing from relief and excitement. "You can call me Tabby!" she chirped. "And you’re Raven! I heard them say your name last night, but I already knew it because you look like a Raven!"

  Raven blinked, not quite sure how to respond to that. "Uh... thanks?"

  Anny chuckled, shaking her head. "You'll have to forgive her. She tends to say whatever pops into her head."

  "Yeah, I noticed." Raven smirked. Tabetha beamed proudly, as if it were an achievement.

  "Well, Anny. Tabby." He gave a slight nod. "Glad we could meet under... better circumstances."

  Anny's smile softened, and for a moment, the weight of what had happened lingered between them. "Yeah," she said quietly. "Me too."

  Anny hesitated and gave him a curious look. "So… you’re a real-life superhero, huh?" She smirked. "Disappearing and appearing like that?"

  Raven barked out a short laugh, but it felt hollow even to him. "Hardly. I’m just a glorified scout."

  "You, however, are straight out of a comic book—creating ice out of thin air? That’s insane."

  Anny grinned, though she quickly shook her head. "That was Uri. She taught me how to do it."

  Raven tilted his head, studying her. "Maybe. But from what I’ve seen, Uri doesn’t just hand people powers. You’re selling yourself short."

  Anny looked surprised by that, her expression softening slightly.

  Before she could respond, the door creaked open, and Carter stepped in. His sharp gaze swept the room before landing on Anny.

  "How’s the patient?"

  Anny rolled her eyes. "Fine. Apparently, no one believes me."

  Raven took that as his cue to leave. He stood, nodding toward her. "Thanks again. You saved my ass out there."

  Anny watched him go, a small smile playing at her lips.

  That man was… something else. After last night, she hadn’t known what kind of person he really was—a killer, a saviour, or something in between. He had cut down a dozen men without hesitation, yet here he was, making her sister laugh.

  She definitely hadn’t expected him to be capable of both.

  As Raven left the surgery room, he barely made it down the hallway before Henson fell into step beside him.

  "Morning," Henson greeted, his tone neutral but carrying a sharpness Raven recognized as police instincts at work.

  Raven nodded. "Morning."

  Henson didn’t waste time. "I need a rundown of what you saw out there yesterday."

  Raven sighed. He should have expected this—he was the only one who had been outside the Sink for any real length of time. As much as he didn’t want to relive last night just yet, this was important.

  He recounted everything. The surprisingly low number of threats inside the Sink, the absence of lizards compared to the day before, and the brutal encounter with the slavers. He kept his voice measured and clinical, but Henson was good—he caught the slight tightness in Raven’s tone when he mentioned the human kills.

  Henson didn’t pry, though. Instead, he nodded thoughtfully. "Not sure whether we should be grateful or worried about the lack of hostiles inside the Sink."

  "Exactly what I was thinking," Raven admitted. "Feels too easy."

  "Only time will tell," Henson muttered. "But either way, thanks for the report. It helps us prepare."

  They walked in silence for a few steps before Henson spoke again, his tone lighter, more personal. "I also wanted to say… what you’ve done here? It’s made a difference."

  Raven raised an eyebrow. "What, killing a dozen guys?"

  Henson exhaled through his nose. "No. The weapons, the knowledge—morale hasn't broken yet because we actually have a plan. You’ve given people a direction. And that gives them hope."

  Raven blinked. Hope? Him? That didn’t feel right. He wasn’t some leader with a grand vision—he was just surviving. Just doing what needed to be done.

  And yet, when he thought of Tabetha beaming up at him, of Anny watching him with quiet curiosity, of the hospital still standing—

  Maybe hope had nothing to do with what he intended.

  "I’m just trying to survive like everyone else," he said after a moment.

  "Maybe," Henson conceded. "But people are looking to you whether you like it or not."

  They reached the stairwell leading toward the meeting room, and Henson hesitated before adding one last thing.

  "A lot of people are scared for their families. If you find any way to broadcast that this hospital is safe, keep an eye out for it."

  Raven glanced at him. "You think there’s still tech that works out there?"

  "There might be. Radio towers, emergency broadcast signals—hell, even a megaphone would be a start. If we want to build something here, people need to know where to go."

  Raven nodded slowly. It made sense. But why hadn’t he thought of it before? He’d been so focused on survival, on fighting, on keeping people safe in the moment—he hadn’t once considered looking beyond this place.

  What did that say about him?

  "I’ll keep an eye out," he promised.

  Henson patted his shoulder as they headed inside. "Good man."