Chapter 82: Ayla's Birthday Gift

The day was just like any other in Jon's repair shop. The door creaked open, and a young man, no older than twenty, stepped in. He was a picture of modern youth, with a schoolbag slung over his shoulder and a pair of headphones around his neck. His eyes scanned the room, but found no one behind the counter.

Undeterred, he sauntered over to the counter, his backpack thudding against the worn wood as he set it down. He cleared his throat, his voice echoing in the quiet shop, "Hello, anyone here?"

His words hung in the air, unanswered. He called out again, his voice growing louder with each attempt. Just as he was about to give up, assuming the shop was deserted, a sound from the back room caught his attention. A voice, gruff yet friendly, rang out, "Coming."

Jon emerged from the back room, wiping his hands on a rag. His face was a map of apology as he said, "Sorry, I was in the back room just now."

The young man nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "That's alright," he said, his voice carrying a hint of relief. He unzipped his backpack and pulled out a laptop, its sleek surface reflecting the overhead lights. "Can this laptop be repaired?" he asked, his voice laced with hope.

Jon took the laptop, his fingers tracing over the cool metal. "What's the problem?" he asked, his eyes never leaving the device.

"The screen blacks out within minutes, and I don't know what went wrong! I've cleaned up the storage, even bought a new Ram some time ago!" the young man explained, his frustration evident.

Jon opened the laptop, his fingers dancing over the keys. But before he could delve deeper, the screen went black. He looked up at the young man, his eyes mirroring the screen's darkness. "Repairable, right?" the man asked, desperation creeping into his voice. "The screen goes black all the time. It used to last ten minutes at first! Now it can't even last half a minute."

Jon remained silent, his mind already working on the problem. He flipped the laptop over, his tools clicking against the keyboard surface as he removed it, revealing the circuit board inside. His eyes scanned the intricate network of circuits, his mind processing each detail.

He pointed to one of the circuits, his voice steady as he said, "See this? This circuit is broken. Did you accidentally bump it before?"

Ever since he read the Darkhold the previous night, Jon felt a change in himself. His concentration and observation skills were heightened, his thinking sharper. He hadn't slept a wink, yet he didn't feel the slightest bit of fatigue.

"I don't recall bumping it anywhere," the man said, his brow furrowed in confusion. "I took a flight back to New York a few days ago, and I put this laptop in my suitcase. It was fine before, but it started acting up a few days after I got home."

"Well, in the future, it's advisable not to put the laptop in the suitcase. It's safer in a backpack. Suitcases can get jostled around, especially during flights, and that can damage the laptop," Jon advised, closing the laptop with a soft click. He looked up at the young man, his eyes serious. "Leave this with me. I'll need a deposit of twenty dollars, and you can pick it up in two days."

The man nodded, a look of relief washing over his face. "Just repair it," he said, placing the money on the counter before turning to leave. The bell above the door jingled as he exited, leaving Jon alone in the quiet shop.

Jon pocketed the money and turned back to the back room, his mind already on the task ahead. The back room was a stark contrast to the front, with its cluttered workbench and shelves lined with spare parts. In the center of the room was a small round table, and on it, a pendant lay, its surface gleaming under the overhead light.

Jon approached the table, his heart pounding in his chest. He extended his hands towards the pendant, his fingers trembling slightly. As he waved his hands, the pendant was enveloped in a weak flame, lifting it into the air. Jon's hands then sprayed flames towards the pendant, but instead of being consumed, the pendant absorbed all the flames.

This was a technique Jon had learned from the Darkhold. He could infuse his own energy into an object, transforming it into an amulet. It was a skill that required immense concentration and control, but Jon was determined to master it.

Ayla's birthday was just around the corner, and Jon had been racking his brains for the perfect gift. When he stumbled upon this technique in the Darkhold, he knew he had found it. He would give her this amulet, a token of his affection and a symbol of the bond they shared.

As he watched the pendant absorb the flames, Jon couldn't help but smile. He was excited to see Ayla's reaction, and he hoped she would love his gift as much as he loved her.

***

In the following days, Jon found himself immersed in the Darkhold, studying its pages under the cover of night. During the day, when the shop was devoid of customers, he would work on the amulets, infusing them with his power. As the Ghost Rider, his power was limitless, and he felt no drain from pouring his energy into the amulets.

Ayla's birthday arrived as expected, and Jon closed the shop early to join the celebration. His house was a riot of color and laughter, filled with Ayla's friends and classmates. The air was thick with excitement, and the sound of music filled the room.

Chris was the center of attention, his fingers strumming a guitar as he entertained the crowd. "One more song, Chris!" the children shouted, their faces alight with joy. Chris, a rising rock star, was a source of pride for Ayla, a talking point she loved to share at school.

"Hey, Chris!" Jon greeted as he entered the room. Chris' expression faltered at the sight of Jon, his hand instinctively reaching up to touch his face. For some reason, seeing Jon stirred a strange sensation in him, a phantom pain that felt like a punch. "Uh hi, Jon!" he managed to say, his voice slightly shaky.

Before Jon could respond, a blur of movement caught his eye. Ayla, wearing a birthday hat, ran towards him, throwing herself into his arms. "Hey, Ayla!" Jon said, ruffling her hair affectionately.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small gift box, handing it to her. "Look what I brought you," he said, his voice filled with anticipation.

Ayla's eyes lit up as she opened the box, revealing the sparkling pendant. "Oh my God, it's so beautiful!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with awe.

Jon smiled, squatting down to her level. "Yeah, but not prettier than you," he said, his voice soft. He looked at her seriously, his eyes meeting hers. "Promise me, Ayla, you will always carry this with you. You can wear it on your schoolbag when you go to school, and don't let it leave your side when you go out to play."

Ayla nodded, her eyes filled with understanding. She subconsciously knew this was more than just a gift; it was a symbol of Jon's protection.

"What about Annie?" Ayla asked, her eyes curious. "Will you give her such a thing?"

"Of course!" Jon replied, a sense of relief washing over him at Ayla's acceptance. He ruffled her hair affectionately, saying, "Your sister's is also done, I'll find the right moment to give it to her."

Ayla's face lit up with a relieved smile. She held up the pendant, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Can I show it off to my classmates?" she asked, her voice filled with anticipation.

"Of course, go ahead!" Jon encouraged her, his heart swelling with affection. The pendant would only reveal its true power when Ayla was in danger. Otherwise, it was just a beautiful ornament, a secret hidden in plain sight.

***

As the day wore on, Ayla's birthday party came to an end. The house, once filled with laughter and music, was now quiet. Jon, Annie, and Chris, who had stayed behind, began the task of cleaning up.

Jon could have easily used his powers to clean up the mess, a few waves of his wand and everything would be back in order. But he chose not to. He relished these ordinary moments, these glimpses of normalcy. He had seen too much violence, caused too much harm. These moments grounded him, reminded him of his humanity.

As he picked up discarded cups and plates, Jon couldn't help but smile. This was his life now, a blend of the extraordinary and the mundane. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

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