Soul Strangers

Chapter 1 - Soul Strangers

Location: New York City

Time: Early Autumn - Present Day (Future Setting)

POV: Ezekiel Matias

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The city was loud in all the wrong ways. Screaming cars. Static-filled advertisements. The kind of concrete silence that made your soul itch.

Ezekiel Matias tightened the strap on his black hoodie, slipped his hands into his pockets, and picked up his pace. He hated being late, but he hated being seen even more.

His earbuds blasted an old Japanese instrumental from his childhood. Something about it calmed the storm in his chest. On the outside, he looked composed. Inside, it was controlled chaos. Like always.

“You were born with a borrowed soul, Zeke.”

His mother’s voice echoed in the back of his mind. He hated that sentence. Mostly because it felt true.

He passed familiar neon signs, Tamashi relic shops, ramen spots, and burger chains. A weird mix of East and West, all jammed together since Tamashi changed the world. Now, everyone either feared it, sold it, or used it.

A digital billboard above a relic shop played another Matias Ops ad. “Protect the world. Control the power. Join the cause.” Ezekiel looked away.

I don’t want to control it. I want to erase it.

He turned onto 45th and Lex.

That’s when he saw her.

A girl in a long coat stood in front of the relic shop, staring through the glass like it had insulted her personally.

Red hair. Blue eyes. Tokyo accent.

Not a tourist. Not a local. Someone in between.

Their eyes met.

And then all hell broke loose.

---

*Ten Seconds Earlier*

Two guys in gray jackets pushed past the girl and toward the shop entrance. One held a black crystal that glowed faintly. Tamashi-charged. Unstable.

“Get down!” Ezekiel shouted before he could stop himself.

The crystal exploded.

Not a massive blast, but enough to scatter glass and release a great deal of energy. Civilians hit the ground, ducking for cover.

The girl didn’t flinch.

She moved. Fast. A blur. Her hand sliced through the air, and shadows whipped from her sleeve, yanking the thugs into the alley behind her.

Ezekiel narrowed his eyes. That wasn’t normal Shadow Energy. It was clean. Controlled.

She turned to him. “You good?”

He blinked. “Yeah. You?”

“Been through worse.”

Sirens started to echo down the block.

“Come on,” she said, grabbing his wrist. “Before they ask us questions we don’t want to answer.”

---

*Five Minutes Later - Rooftop Above the Shop*

They stood above the chaos. Police swarmed the scene. Reporters gathered. Drones hovered overhead, scanning for fragments.

“Thanks for the save,” he said. “You didn’t have to.”

She shrugged. “You looked like the only one who saw it coming.”

He watched her movements. Sharp, aware. She wasn’t just trained. She was prepared.

“You from around here?” he asked.

“Tokyo. Visiting.”

“Let me guess … Ome?”

She tilted her head. “Lucky guess?”

“Something like that.”

They paused.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Meranī,” she said. “Meranī Avarice.”

The name hit him in the chest.

Avarice.

His grandfather’s voice rang in his ears. “If you ever meet an Avarice, run. Or end it fast.”

He forced a smile. “Nice to meet you.”

She tilted her head slightly. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just... wasn’t expecting someone like you today.”

Meranī grinned. “Most people don’t.”

They stood in silence.

Below them, the city kept screaming.

Inside, Ezekiel’s soul whispered: This isn’t a coincidence.

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*Later That Night - Ezekiel’s Apartment*

Ezekiel sat in his apartment, staring at his reflection in the window. Lights from the city painted the walls in shifting colors. Green. Blue. Red. Ads for Tamashi tech loop endlessly.

He pulled open a drawer.

A faded, torn photo sat inside. His father, smiling.

Back when things weren’t broken.

He chose the Avarice Clan. Left us. Left her.

He shut the drawer and pulled out his notebook.

Tamashi theory notes filled the pages. Symbols, diagrams, equations. One word circled again and again:

‘Null’

The idea that Tamashi could be erased. Reversed. Burned out of the system.

But if she’s Avarice...

He leaned back and stared at the ceiling.

What am I getting into?

His gaze shifted to a sketch on his desk. A Tamashi seal. One he’d seen in a dream the week before. The same dream where the souls weren’t screaming in pain, but warning.

He hadn’t told anyone.

Ezekiel closed the notebook and rubbed his temple. His head throbbed.

Why did I feel something when she touched me?

That moment in the alley … when Meranī grabbed his wrist … it wasn’t just adrenaline. It was something else. A flicker. A hum.

He looked at his wrist.

A faint burn mark. Barely visible. But it was there.

He pulled his sleeve down and muttered, “This isn’t good.”

He crossed the room, stepping over notebooks, shards of old relics, and a dusty katana he hadn’t touched in months. He looked at his reflection again. Tired eyes. Black and white hair. Three scars across his cheek.

You’re starting to look like your father.

He didn’t sleep that night.

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*END OF CHAPTER 1*