Pilot: Hollow Thread
Prologue: Born From Silence
Cainen never knew the warmth of a mother's embrace. His first breath was swallowed by cold shadows, his first cry lost to empty streets. His mother was dead before he was born. No father's name. No whispered stories of a family waiting beyond the dark.
The world saw nothing in him—no potential, no worth. Just a husk of a child, dropped into the chaos and left to rot.
But fate, cruel and indifferent, handed him to Doctor Evemond Williams. A man worn by life, who carried kindness like a shield against a cruel world. For seven years, Evemond's care was a fragile sanctuary—a brief reprieve in an existence otherwise drowned in neglect.
Then, when Cainen was seven, the sanctuary shattered. Evemond died.
Alone, a boy with no future found shelter in a broken house, abandoned and forgotten at the city's edge. He survived on moldy scraps scavenged from garbage. Nights blurred into endless hunger and cold. His body weakened; his spirit hardened.
Chapter 1: The Void Among Powers
In a world ruled by the Resonance Attribute Core—the RAC—every child was measured, categorized, destined by their power. Fire, lightning, telekinesis, shapeshifting—gifts that shaped societies, forged legends, decided fates.
Cainen had none.
Scanned late, at eleven years old, his results read: Void Type.
A blank slate. A broken link. The world's rejection made flesh.
School became a battlefield. Not against his classmates, but against the humiliation and violence he endured. Children with blazing cores and sharpened skills ganged up on him. Powers twisted and broke him, bruised flesh and crushed hope.
Chapter 2: Breaking Point
Months of relentless torment broke something inside Cainen. The boy who once curled into himself cracked open like dry earth.
One morning, he arrived at school carrying a chain. On one end, a sickle glinted, cruel and cold.
His eyes were empty. Dead. Gone was the boy begging for mercy.
Laughter poured from his cracked lips. A sound void of innocence, filled instead with madness.
He unleashed hell.
His strikes were brutal, reckless. Limbs swung and heads rolled. Blood painted the hallways as he tore through the chaos, a storm unleashed.
Chapter 3: The Clock Begins
The authorities caught him. But laws tied their hands—he was a child.
Unable to fully punish him, they pinned charges with a cruel condition: once he reached the age of majority, the government would exile him.
A sentence hung heavy—a clock ticking down to his banishment.
Defiant, Cainen embraced the sentence. More dangerous now, fueled by knowing his time was borrowed.
His tormentors now feared him. But outside the school's walls, the world ignored him—too small a threat, a ghost among giants.
Chapter 4: Fifteen and Unbroken
Now fifteen, Cainen moves through the city a force of nature. No power fuels his rage, but fists and fury speak louder than any gift.
He fights anyone who dares look at him wrong—kids with deadly gifts, hardened criminals, faceless officials.
His war cry echoes:
"I'LL GET UP THERE WITH YOU!"
Grunts punctuate his anger, a primal language of defiance before every blow.
The world sees a spec, a nothing. But he's a storm waiting to break.
Chapter 5: Streets That Whisper
The city never sleeps. It breathes. It watches.
Cainen knows every cracked sidewalk, every flickering streetlamp, every dark alley where the rats scurry. The city is a beast with teeth, and he's been gnawed on, spit out, and left to crawl.
Fifteen years old. No power. No friends. Just fists and a scream that rattles windows.
His black sneakers slap concrete as he stalks through the streets. Every grunt is a challenge. Every glare a threat.
A gang of RAC kids—lightning types—block his path, crackling fingers ready. They sneer, thinking they're gods.
"Void boy," one spits. "What're you gonna do? Swing that chain like a kid's toy?"
Cainen grunts low in his throat, eyes cold fire. No words. Just movement.
The sickle swings. Chain snaps. Lightning fizzles out in sparks against flesh and bone.
Blood mixes with rain on the pavement. The gang scatters, leaving Cainen standing alone in the wet dark.
No one stops him. No one even tries anymore.
Chapter 6: A Flicker in the Void
But rage alone doesn't fill the silence inside.
Nights are worst.
He curls up on broken glass and cold concrete, grunting softly to himself. Fighting shadows behind closed eyes.
Sometimes, he wonders what life might've been if Evemond was still there. A fleeting warmth like a ghost in the back of his mind.
But feelings? Weakness. They'll get you killed.
So he buries them deeper.
Yet… in the silence, something stirs.
A whisper. A crawling thread inside the void.
Something watching.
Something waiting.
Chapter 7: The Price of Survival
Cops don't chase him anymore—they wait.
The government's sentence ticks like a bomb strapped to his back. Exile isn't just a threat; it's a promise.
Cainen laughs when he thinks about it.
They want to exile a kid who fights shadows, who makes grown men bleed.
Good luck with that.
But deep down, a shadow creeps—a question burning beneath the surface.
What if there's more than just rage? What if the void isn't empty?
What if power hides where no one's dared to look?
Chapter 8: Lines Crossed
One night, after another fight that leaves his knuckles cracked and his shirt stained, Cainen stumbles into a strange corner of the city.
Neon flickers off cracked walls, graffiti bleeding into the darkness.
A figure steps out—a hooded stranger with eyes like burning coals.
"You're different," the stranger says, voice low but certain.
Cainen grunts, sizing him up.
"Void Type, right? That means nothing, but… maybe it means everything."
The stranger smiles—a sharp, dangerous curve.
"You want to get up there? I can help."
Cainen's laugh is bitter, but something in the stranger's gaze stirs a spark.
Maybe this storm is about to break open.