Turken Bacon's Arc

Chapter 1 of 4

Turken Bacon climbed onto the cracked stone base of the old lantern, wooden staff thumping the courtyard tiles. Blue light hummed above him from the mana orb. His oversized aviators slid down his nose. He pushed them up with one finger and grinned. Someday, he thought, this whole city would listen. Nyra crouched a few feet away, prying open a sparking toy with a screwdriver. Wires hissed under her fingers. She didn't look up, but her shoulders tilted toward him. She was always listening, even when she pretended not to. A few steps behind her, another boy flicked his wrist and tried to cast. A weak spark popped, then died in the air. He cursed under his breath. Seraph-9 watched from the rusted doorway of their hideout, head tilted, blue eyes steady. The neon sign above her flickered red, then held. "Listen up," Turken said. He spread his arms wide. The staff caught the lantern's glow. "One day, I'm gonna run this whole city." They laughed. Nyra snorted. The boy with the dead spark rolled his eyes. But all three of them looked up. They stopped what they were doing and looked at him. That was the part Turken noticed. That was the part he filed away. He stepped down from the stone base and planted the staff. The laughter faded into something quieter, something closer to a promise. Nyra went back to her wires. Seraph-9 nodded once, slow. The hideout hummed behind them. Turken adjusted his sunglasses and smiled. The plan had started. Years later, standing in a campaign office, he would still hear that laughter — and remember exactly who had followed first.