Chapter 8 : Lincoln (Present)

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As Lincoln strolled down the street, his mind retraced the steps of the encounter with the enigmatic assailant.

The young man had appeared significantly younger than Lincoln, possibly around twenty years old. His hair exhibited a vibrant orange hue, resembling the flicker of flames, while his eyes shared the same shade of orange, but in a darker tone. 

A peculiar detail that caught Lincoln's attention was that the pupils in the man's eyes were shaped like diamonds, unlike the typical round pupils Lincoln was accustomed to.

Was he wearing contacts?

Every aspect of this person seemed unfamiliar and foreign, raising a cascade of questions in Lincoln's mind.

As Lincoln assessed the situation, uncertainty clouded his judgment. The mysterious man's allegiance remained unclear. He didn't appear to be with Edgar or Lincoln. Was there another artifact in play, granting powers to individuals from a third party? If so, how many of these artifacts existed, and who wielded them?

Lincoln retrieved his sword from the ground, its gleaming blade now pointed directly at the mysterious man. The weapon served as a stark reminder of why Lincoln had chosen to carry it. A backup for when circumstances prevented him from using his ability.

Faced with the uncertainty of the man's intentions, Lincoln adopted a defensive stance. If this individual proved to be an enemy, Lincoln knew he couldn't afford any risks. They lacked the technology to contain a teleporter or any powered individual, as evident from the recent prison break. Constantly using his energy spikes to stun the assailant might be Lincoln's only alternative.

Lincoln halted his attack, eyeing the mysterious man cautiously as he raised his arms in a gesture of surrender.

"I was only testing you," the man declared, his hand then moving to his chest.

Lincoln, however, remained vigilant, not ready to lower his guard just yet. "You didn't seem like it. I would've died from any of your attacks,"

"Which is why it was a test. If you died, then you wouldn't be a useful energy manipulator, and we would need a new one. If you lived, then we would have to test you more," the young man calmly explained, his demeanor unperturbed.

His appearance was a stark contrast to his personality, almost as if he was much older than he looked.

The mention of "we" also caught Lincoln off guard. His heart skipped a beat, and he couldn't help but ask, "We?" The implications of this unknown faction or organization's involvement left Lincoln grappling with a surge of questions.

"You won't believe me now, but it's something I need you to accept sooner or later. You are the first wielder and energy manipulator of the human race. Our planet has waited for someone like you for eons," The young man asserted.

Lincoln, struggling to comprehend the gravity of the man's words, sought clarification. "When you say 'our' planet, do you mean Earth?"

The man promptly denied it. "No. I'm not from here. My name is Aytrex. I go by the alias 'Trex' on Earth. I'm a messenger, an Alvan, from the planet Alvanian in a galaxy far away called the Cryptic System," Aytrex revealed.

The incredulity of the situation overwhelmed Lincoln. "Is this a joke? I can't tell. I can believe powers have been granted through a genetic fusion from a meteor, but I can't believe this much, at least not without evidence," Lincoln replied, skepticism etched across his face.

"Humans are often reductionist with their theories, which limits their understanding. Consider this—where do you think the meteorite came from? If there are billions of galaxies, as humans believe, wouldn't there be just as many planets supporting life in those galaxies too? Let that sink in, Lincoln Blaze," Aytrex remarked, his expression calm yet carrying a hint of conviction.

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