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| The Arrival of Antioch |
Night draped the outskirts of Baylor City in an unnatural stillness... The moon hung low, casting faint light over the weathered "Welcome to Baylor City" sign. A faint breeze stirred the air, carrying a chill that whispered danger.
From the shadows, a figure emerged, his dark cloak billowing like smoke. Antioch stepped forward, his glowing red eyes narrowing with disdain.
“So, this is where Obadiah hides,” he muttered, his voice a guttural growl.
Perched on his shoulder, Isis leaned forward, her golden eyes gleaming with predatory delight. “Quaint. And vulnerable,” she hissed, conjuring a flame that danced across her clawed fingers. “I can smell obedience in the air,” she purred. “It makes me want to scream.”
Antioch smirked, his long fingers tracing the faded lettering on the sign. The paint flaked away, frost creeping across the wood until it cracked and crumbled.
“It’s perfect,” he said, his tone laced with malice. “Let’s make him regret leaving the heavens.”
Isis tossed the flame toward the town’s faint glow. The flame extinguished midair, its sparks scattering into the wind. “Max has found the Chosen One,” she purred.
Antioch’s grin widened. “Good. But first, let’s sow a little fear. Let them feel us before they see us.”
The streetlights along the road flickered and dimmed, one by one, as a ripple of cold energy swept through the air. Antioch and Isis vanished, their dark laughter carried on the chilling breeze.
___
The following morning, the chatter of students filled the history classroom as they settled into their seats. Sunlight streamed through tall windows, casting slanted beams across desks cluttered with notebooks and textbooks.
Principal Cross clapped her hands, silencing the noise. “Everyone, please welcome our new history teacher, Mr. Lucas Elliott!”
A tall man with a confident, commanding presence stepped forward. His tailored suit emphasized his broad shoulders, and his piercing blue eyes scanned the students. For a brief moment, his gaze lingered on Laric, and something passed between them—an unspoken awareness that made Laric sit up straighter, his heartbeat quickening.
“Nice to meet you all,” Mr. Elliott said, his tone warm but steady. “I look forward to getting to know each of you.”
Laric frowned, glancing at Allen. “Did you feel that?” he whispered.
Allen raised an eyebrow. “Feel what?”
“Mr…. Elliott,” Laric said, struggling to put it into words. “When he looked at me.”
Allen laughed, nudging him. “Relax, Laric. He’s just a teacher. Not everyone’s got a secret.”
“Maybe,” Laric muttered, but he couldn’t shake the strange connection. It wasn’t a bad feeling—more like the recognition of something familiar yet unknown, like hearing a melody you’d forgotten but still somehow knew.
___
Later that afternoon, the school gymnasium was nearly empty, the faint thud of a basketball echoing against the walls. Alexander Smothers, a wiry sophomore, practiced alone, his movements deliberate and precise. He leaped, releasing the ball. It swished through the net, satisfying but fleeting.
“Impressive,” said a voice from the shadows.
Startled, Alex turned to see a tall, dark-haired student leaning casually against the bleachers. His smile was friendly, but something in his eyes made Alex’s stomach tighten.
“Who are you?” Alex asked, gripping the basketball.
“Just a friend,” the boy said, stepping forward. “You’ve got talent. Real potential. People should notice you.”
Alexander blinked. “Do I know you?”
“Not yet,” the boy said with a laugh. “But I know you. I know how hard you work. How overlooked you are. It’s not fair, is it?”
Alexander hesitated, the boy’s words hitting too close to home. “What do you want?”
“To help you,” the boy said, his tone turning serious. “What if I told you there’s a way to show them all who you really are? To make them see your worth?”
Alexander stepped back, wary. “I don’t even know you.”
The boy’s smile faltered, replaced by a flicker of impatience. His red eyes gleamed briefly before fading. “Think about it, Alexander. Greatness is within your grasp... if you’re brave enough to take it.”
Before Alexander could respond, the boy vanished into the shadows. The gym lights flickered before stabilizing, leaving Alexander clutching the basketball and trembling.
___
The next morning, the school hallway buzzed with life. Lockers slammed shut, snippets of conversation bounced off the walls. Students gather in small groups, chatting and laughing, while others head to their next classes. Alexander stood at his locker, fumbling with his books.
He hunched over his textbook, keeping his head low. He hoped to go unnoticed, blending into the background as he always did. But today, luck wasn’t on his side.
The football players Jude and Eli, shoved Alexander against a row of lockers.
“Hey, nerd!” Jude sneered, snatching Alexander’s book. “What’s this? Math homework? Trying to make us all look bad?”
“Give it back,” Alexander muttered, reaching for the book.
Jude smirked, shoving Alexander harder. “Why? You gonna cry about it?”
Before the situation escalated further, a sharp voice cut through the crowd. “That’s enough!”
Laric strode toward them, Allen trailing behind with his usual mischievous grin.
“Great,” Jude muttered. “The choir boy and his sidekick.”
“Say that again,” Allen snapped, balling his fists.
Laric raised a hand, his voice calm but firm. “We’re not here to fight. Leave him alone.”
Jude got in Laric’s face. “You are lucky I don’t have the time.”
The bullies sauntered off, but not before shoving Alexander one last time.
“Bullies,” Allen muttered.
Laric crouched beside Alexander, helping him gather his books. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” Alexander mumbled, avoiding Laric’s gaze.
“Sure you are,” Allen said, smirking.
“Is there a problem here?”
The trio turned to see Lucas Elliott, his blue eyes sharp and watchful.
“No problem, Mr. Elliott,” Laric said quickly.
Lucas nodded, but his gaze lingered on Alexander. “My door’s always open,” he said softly before walking away.
Laric watched him go, his brow furrowing. “There’s something about him.”
Allen rolled his eyes. “Not this again.”
___
Dusk draped Baylor City’s park in soft shadows as Obadiah made his way to an appointment at the Church of Destinations.
He blinked, the firelight of Adullam still flickering behind his eyes. The smell of smoke and stone gave way to the crisp scent of autumn leaves and distant street food. Children’s laughter rang out. A street musician strummed a gentle tune near the fountain. Life pulsed around him again.
He moved along the winding path, one hand trailing the railing, grounding himself in the present. David’s words still hummed inside him: “Then go be His again.”
Obadiah no longer felt like a relic. He remembered who he was. And knew what had to be done.
“Antioch,” Obadiah said, his tone calm but firm.
“You seem tense,” Antioch replied, a cruel smile twisting his lips. “Still playing the noble protector, I see. But let’s not waste time—surely, you knew this moment was coming.”
“What are you doing here?” Obadiah demanded, taking a step forward.
Antioch chuckled, his eyes narrowing. “Oh, just visiting. Exploring your quaint little sanctuary. Baylor City...” He gestured lazily at the frozen park around them. “A charming choice. But you can’t shield them, Obadiah. Not now.”
“I’ll protect them,” Obadiah said, his voice like steel.
“Brave words.” Antioch’s smile sharpened. “For someone who doesn’t have power.”
Obadiah leaned back. He couldn’t help but wonder, how he knew he was powerless.
“But you’re not alone, are you? Tell your pet, Luk-el, to stay out of my business. He’s meddling where he doesn’t belong.”
Obadiah’s jaw tightened. He didn’t respond.
Antioch’s smirk faltered for a moment, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. “ I just want you to know I’m breaking your sanctuary, one soul at a time. And I’ve already chosen my first.”
The words hung in the air like a challenge, laced with cruel promise.
“You won’t win, Antioch,” Obadiah finally said, his voice unwavering.
Antioch’s grin returned, wider and darker. “Oh, Obadiah. You’ve always been so confident. Let’s see how long it lasts.”
With a wave of his hand, Antioch vanished. The park came alive again in an instant. Children’s laughter rang out once more, joggers resumed their stride, and the musician’s tune floated on the air as if nothing had happened.
He exhaled slowly, his resolve hardening. The battle was beginning. He was powerless.
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