Kaine sat in the middle of the living room, staring at the rifle and knife he’d created the day before. The realization that he could turn everyday objects into whatever he wanted—tools, weapons, even food—had kept him up all night. He wasn’t scared, not really. This wasn’t some cosmic curse; this was power. The kind of power he’d need to tear the Crimson Dawn apart piece by piece. “Alright,” he muttered,