Chapter 152: CHAPTER 150
[Tom Hendricks POV]
The early morning sun cast a warm, golden glow through the curtains, gently rousing me from my slumber. The chirping birds outside my window provided a peaceful backdrop to the world outside. As I stretched lazily in bed, my hand brushed over the curtains, pulling them open to reveal a group of pigeons playfully fluttering about, seemingly lost in their own avian antics.
I sighed, hoping they wouldn't leave any unwanted surprises on my windowsill. But deep down, I knew better – pigeons always did. Closing the curtains with a resigned shake of my head, I finally allowed myself to sit up, squinting at the figure sleeping soundly beside me.
Rachel, the sleeping beauty, lay there with an air of innocence that belied the immense demonic power she possessed. Her forehead adorned with a gem so exquisite, it could tempt even the likes of Mick Rory, the notorious thief. But it wasn't just her powers that intrigued me; she carried her fair share of daddy issues, a complicated backstory that only added to her mystique.
I leaned in, examining the gem on her forehead more closely, my fingers itching with curiosity. The thought of someone like me getting their hands on such a precious artifact was tempting, to say the least.
"Are you going to stare at me all morning, or are we going to have breakfast soon?" Rachel's voice, tinged with the slightest grogginess, pulled me from my thoughts.
I grinned, always enjoying teasing her. "Oh, morning, sleepyhead. Someone had a long night."
She blushed, her beauty radiant even in the soft morning light. "Don't act like you don't know the reason for it. For some reason, I'm starving this morning."
I nodded, concern hidden behind my smirk. "It's completely understandable. You lost a lot of blood and had a wild night. You need to replenish your strength, especially with a diet heavy on vegetables."
A playful tone crept into my voice as I added, "Good thing you're a vegetarian."
Rachel responded with a mock glare. "Haha, very funny."
"Look," I said, suppressing a chuckle, "why don't you freshen up while I grab us some breakfast?"
"Yeah," she agreed, leaning in for a kiss before heading toward the bathroom. As she disappeared from view, I swung my legs over the side of the bed, dressed quickly, and made my way into town.
According to the map Gwen had displayed earlier, there was an eatery a few miles from my safe house. Most oblivious civilians went about their daily lives, unaware of the chaos that was slowly taking hold of our world.
Half an hour later, I returned with our food. Rachel was seated in the living room, her eyes fixed on the news, much like the rest of the world, as if seeking some semblance of normalcy amidst the chaos.
"Who's hungry?" I called out, setting our breakfast on the dining table.
"I am," Rachel replied, levitating gracefully to the dining area.
I handed her a breakfast burrito loaded with beans and veggies, accompanied by yogurt, fruit, and granola. I, on the other hand, opted for a classic cheeseburger and fries, washing it down with a soda.
"Thanks," Rachel said before diving into her meal.
"No biggie. Just eat up; you need to recover your strength," I reminded her, taking a hearty bite of my burger.
As we ate, Rachel's gaze turned serious, and she broached a sensitive topic. "My memories from that night are a little fuzzy, and I appreciate you for saving me. But did you really have to kill all those people back there?"
I sighed, knowing this conversation was inevitable. "Not necessarily. If they had just stayed put and not tried to kill me, they would still be alive. So, in some way, it was self-defense."
Rachel raised an eyebrow, her disbelief evident. "Really?"
I met her gaze, unflinching. "Okay, Okay you've got me. I do enjoy dealing with the cocky and narcissistic ones who think they can make others' lives miserable without consequences."
She countered, "But it's still wrong to end a life. There's no way you can justify killing. It's still murder."
I leaned in, my tone serious yet measured. "Sometimes, someone needs to do what needs to be done. And most of the time, that someone is me. I take on the role most times and do what the heroes refuse to do. Ending one life to save the many – is that a right call, or should I just arrest them, put them in jail, and watch hundreds of people die the moment they escape?"
Rachel fell silent, deep in thought, pondering the moral dilemma I had presented. "I'm in no position to distinguish between what's right and wrong. I'm even scared of losing control of my powers and hurting people with them."
"Losing control of your powers?" I asked, feigning ignorance while curiosity gnawed at me. I didn't want her knowing that I knew about her struggles with her powers, without her telling me.
She played with her food, her fork tracing idle patterns. "I don't want to hide anything from you, but I'm scared you might see me differently if you knew the truth."
I reached for her hand, locking eyes with her. "Don't worry, Rachel. Feel free to tell me anything. I promise not to see you any differently than I do now, not even the slightest." Of course I wouldn't, I knew what I was getting into when I made her my girlfriend.
With a deep breath, she confessed, "Um… I come from demonic origins."
"Demonic origins? Like your parents are demons or something?" I played along, though I knew more than I let on.
"Something like that. My dad was a demon, so I'm half human and half demon. You could say I'm a hybrid." She leaned in as she asked me a surprising question. "Have you ever heard of the name, Triggon?"
"Okay…" I mused, stroking my chin thoughtfully. " I think I've heard of a demon named Triggon. He's known as the destroyer of worlds, enslaving any world he gets his hands on. Is your dad that...Triggon?"
She confirmed it with averted eyes. "Yes, that's him."
I grinned like I was unable to resist the intrigue of her revelation. "That's kind of cool, not your dad but the powers you inherited from him. You're strong enough to destroy this world if you wanted to."
"Actually I wouldn't want that. Also I was really scared of them because of how evil they could be." Rachel gave me a glimpse of her earlier struggles with her powers.
I took the last bite of my burger, washed it down with soda, and leaned in, focusing on her. "Who's to say whether a power is good or evil? What matters is how you use it, whether for good or for evil. You've already proven that you can use your powers for good, Rachel. You've become a hero, saving the lives of the innocent every day."
Rachel stared at me, rendered momentarily speechless by my words. I continued, my voice soft but firm, "With time, the weight of guilt and the rejection of your powers might consume you. It might be easier if you embraced your powers rather than seeing them as evil and rejecting them."
She chuckled, breaking the tension in the room. "Careful there, Tom. With the way you're speaking and your white hair to go with it, you're starting to seem like some kind of wise old geezer."
We shared a laugh, the weight of the conversation momentarily lifted.
After another hour passed, we were ready to depart. Rachel summoned a portal with her dark energy, a testament to her incredible abilities. She turned to me, her eyes filled with gratitude. "Once again, thank you, Tom. For everything."
I pulled her into a gentle embrace, a smile on my face. "My pleasure, baby. I'm glad I could help. And please, don't mention my true identity as Ace to anyone, and I mean anyone."
Rachel met my gaze, her eyes filled with sincerity. "I promise I won't."
"I know you won't." I leaned in, capturing her lips in a final, tender kiss, and with that, she flew into her portal, while I took off on my own path.
Weekly Power Status
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