A soft light spilled through the window, catching dust motes in its golden hue as it filtered into the small room atop the household. A wind whispered through a half-open vent, gently tousling the reddish-brown hair of the boy sleeping soundly beneath a thick blanket.
"Kyle, sweetheart! Time to wake up. You're getting late, and you'll miss breakfast!"
The voice floated warmly through the stairwell, refined and melodic, a lullaby only a mother could sing. He didn't stir. Instead, he curled deeper inside the blanket, chasing just five more minutes of sleep.
A moment later, another voice echoed from downstairs, sharper, younger, and far less patient.
"Are you going to wake up or not? Don't make me come up there, that'll be bad for you. And wake your sister too!"
This time, the tone carried a clear hint of anger.
Kyle blinked awake, his eyes focusing on the ceiling. A wide yawn stretched across his face as he slowly rolled over, his limbs still heavy with sleep.
He pushed himself up, revealing a twelve-year-old boy with a round, youthful face. The last vestiges of childhood softness clung to his cheeks, and his reddish-brown hair stuck out in wild tufts. His pale skin glowed in the morning light, and warm brown eyes fluttered open, still hazy with dreams.
Across the room, the small bed with its pink blanket shifted. A smaller child, his younger sister, slept on, peaceful as a ghost.
As soon as Kyle saw she was still asleep, a spark of mischief lit in his eyes.
Target acquired.
He raised a hand, and a sliver of dark blue, mist-like energy shimmered around his fingers. They dissolved into an inky black shimmer, devoured by the colorless essence. With a quiet grin, he tiptoed toward the bed and poked the lump playfully.
"Rosi-Rosi, wake up," he whispered.
For a moment, she remained perfectly still. But when the tickling became too much to bear, a voice full of childish frustration emerged from the blankets. "Stopped, stopped! I am awake now!"
After another ten to twenty seconds, a small face peeked out, pale, round, and framed by messy light-brown curls. Puffy cheeks, a sleepy pout, and soft gray eyes blinked up at him, full of silent protest.
"You're doing it again," she muttered, rubbing her eyes.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Kyle said with a grin, dropping a fresh pair of socks, summoned from his space storage, onto her lap.
He used his powers to help her get ready for school quickly.
"Thanks," she mumbled, offering a faint smile. "You're still cheating."
"Call it a big brother bonus."
With a triumphant smirk, Kyle vanished into thin air and reappeared inside the bathroom, grabbing his toothbrush to begin prepping for the day. All of that effort, just to get her up and then enter the washroom first, perhaps there was an unspoken competition between them.
Back in the bedroom, Rosi sat up slowly, tugging on her socks with a groggy frown. "You're such a cheater, Kyle," she grumbled under her breath.
He ignored the jab, finished getting ready in record time, and reappeared in front of her, bowing low with one hand behind his back.
"Your turn, my lady," he said with exaggerated elegance, offering her his hand.
Rosi blinked, utterly unimpressed. "Nope. I don't need it. Thank you very much." She stood and marched toward the bathroom with all the dignity she could muster.
Kyle also blinked, momentarily stunned, then chuckled and began packing his school things. By the time he was done, Rosi had returned, dressed and ready.
Together, they made their way downstairs.
The lower floor of the house buzzed with morning energy. The space was small but cozy, decorated in soft blues and grays, with clean counters and flickering holographic screens displaying city news, alerts, and weather updates.
At the table sat a man in his late 40s, Theron Noxvel, their father. Dressed in the sleek graphite-gray suit of a Government Development Core engineer, he scrolled through translucent schematics and encrypted files, his eyes scanning data behind rectangular lenses. A neatly trimmed beard framed a face marked by quiet responsibility.
"Morning, kiddos," he greeted with a nod.
"Morning, Dad," Kyle and Rosi chimed in unison.
In the kitchen, their mother moved with swift, practiced motions, making pancakes. At forty-three, time seemed hesitant to touch her. Her long, deep-red hair was tied back in a low braid, and her pale skin glowed with a youthful warmth. Large, intelligent eyes sparkled as she turned toward her children.
"Eris, can you please pick up Rosi at school today after your shift? I have an urgent meeting and field work today," Theron said, taking a sip of his coffee.
"Sure, no problem. Just take care of yourself. You don't have to overwork, you know," she replied, now walking toward the table with plates full of pancakes and other breakfast items. She placed everything down and sat beside Rosi, right across from Kyle.
"You're fortunate I didn't come upstairs; otherwise, I would've emptied an entire bucket of water over you," she teased. "Eat quickly, I've got a morning shift at Southside General."
Kyle grinned. "You wouldn't dare."
"I absolutely would," she said with a smirk, setting a plate of steaming pancakes in front of him.
The moment the plate landed, Kyle lunged like a starved beast. His parents made half-hearted attempts to slow him down, but they knew better.
Just then, the front door hissed open.
A pair of polished boots stepped inside.
A young woman of twenty walked into the dining room, clad in an army suit adorned with a single star on the shoulders. She was the eldest of the siblings, and her crisp, silver-trimmed uniform marked her status as a newly minted Captain of the Government Army. At only twenty, she carried herself with cool authority. Sharp, elegant features and black-jade eyes gave her an air of quiet control.
"Morning," she said, taking a seat beside Kyle and across from Rosi.
"You're already looking like a hero," Kyle said, grinning.
She raised an eyebrow. "Says the boy with syrup on his face."
Kyle wiped it quickly. "Tactical error." He tried to present the best version of himself in front of his elder sister. He knew she was famous, and he wanted to be like her, no, more than her. There were others in the City who didn't belong to the army but to other major factions, with immense powers to fight the giant creatures many times larger than themselves. He wanted to be like those who protected and fought for humanity.
They settled into breakfast. The room was warm, filled with the comforting smells and sounds of family life.
But Kyle's thoughts were elsewhere. He knew that with the current school system and his current physical powers, he wouldn't be able to achieve what he was aiming for. The problem was that his entire family resided inside Ironreach. Although they had all the basic needs of life, unlike the Grind, where everything was in short supply due to overpopulation and other reasons, he didn't know, there were specific schools for each subject. To become one of humanity's best-trained fighter, he needed to move to a specific school that focused solely on training and realizing one's potential. And to do that, he had to move to the innermost district of the city, where the elites of the elites lived. The school he was attending was not that kind of school.
He pushed his fork around before speaking, his voice quiet but resolute. "Mom, Dad... have you decided anything about what I asked you last time?"
Theron lowered his holoscreen. Eris tilted her head slightly. The room stilled.
Kyle looked at them, his eyes steady. "I want to change schools. I want to transfer to the Inner District Combat Training Regiment."
A beat of silence.
"You're already in a good school," Eris said carefully.
"I don't care about the engineering or research tracks," Kyle replied. "I want to fight. I want to be like you." He nodded at Elysia, though he didn't mean support and strategy. He meant something more, something Elysia knew she could never offer.
She was a captain, yes, but one who could only command and enhance. Not fight. Not the way Kyle wanted to.
Theron sighed deeply. "Kyle, your powers don't suit combat. Although you and your sister both possess the same affinity... It's not like Elra's reinforcement. You don't have shields or physical boosts. No offensive capability."
Theron tried to explain everything to him like a reasonable man. He was just trying to protect him. He knew the path Kyle wanted to follow was full of unknown horrors and difficulties, and he didn't know if his son was capable of facing them. They were all worried about him. This world was not safe, not really. The peace they had was temporary, a brief calm before the inevitable storm. There were still Creatures that roamed outside the cities—some of them unbeatable, even by the greatest heroes. Death was always near.
Kyle's voice sharpened. "But it's still useful. I have stealth. Storage. I can learn. This power isn't weak, it's just... misunderstood."
Eris's gaze shifted. That tone. That fire. Passion. Obsession.
"I found a book," Kyle said, leaning forward. "Hidden in the archives. It was about past soldiers with the same affinity. They weren't engineers or scouts. They were explorers. Frontliners. They reclaimed dead zones. They were heroes."
Theron met Eris's eyes. His voice was heavy with something close to grief. "Kyle… all of them died."
Kyle's fists clenched. "Not because of their powers. They were abandoned. They were sent on suicide missions. And none of them had full mastery of their powers. Most of them were disliked because no one can do what they can."
He paused, then tried again. "Don't you want to be the parents of the first human to truly control these unknown powers? I want to master it and become so strong, and then I will protect you and everyone in the city."
The children and their hero-phobia, every child dreamed the same. So they both knew it was not new, but still, seeing their child vowing to protect them and the city brought its own mix of relief and fear.
The table fell into silence.
Even Elysia stopped eating.
Finally, she set down her fork. "Kyle... we believe in you. But power alone isn't enough. The powers you have are so unknown and mysterious that even if we take you to the combat school, no one will be able to train you accordingly. Furthermore, it was disliked not because of its greatness, but because it takes things from people. Not just energy. It drains memories. Emotions. We don't want the same thing to happen to you."
This affinity was rare, so rare that only he and his sister had it, and in both their cases, they had different kinds of powers. Only a handful had ever awakened it, and none had survived long. No one truly understood what it could do... or what it could take. I am not worried about Elysia because of your dad and her responsible behavior. But you, on the other hand, are our wild card.
Kyle met their eyes, trying to come up with something to persuade both his parents. "I won't let it consume me. I'll work hard, harder than anyone else. I'll master it. I'll use it to protect. I'll use it to take our planet back from the monsters, and then I'll build you a beautiful house there."
There was no doubt in his voice now. No hesitation.
Rosi peeked up from her plate. "I think he can do it," she said softly.
Kyle turned to her with a warm grin. "Atta girl," he whispered, pride glowing in his eyes. She was small, too small to understand the full weight of his dreams, but she believed in him. That was enough.
But the moment was cut short.
Thwack.
A sharp flick landed on his head.
"Not so fast, you dumb," Elysia said, her tone half-scolding, half-concerned.
Kyle rubbed the spot and looked up at her in confusion.
Her expression had shifted, still composed but now tense, her voice low and warning.
"Do you even understand what's out there?" she asked, looking at him as if to pull the answer from his mouth. But she knew he didn't know anything, because on the TV, it was always the Hero who won the battle, but in reality, things were totally different.
She paused for a minute, then spoke, trying to warn him. "There are creatures roaming beyond these walls… bigger than this whole city put together. Things you can't even understand. Demons who can wipe out the whole city with just a flick of the fingers"
Kyle opened his mouth, but she raised a hand, not out of fear, but out of a need to make him understand.
"And you think you can become good enough to face such monsters just because you found a book and got fired up?" Her voice wasn't mocking, just tired and worried.
She paused, then added firmly, "Don't bring this up to Mom and Dad again."
The room fell quiet again, her words hanging heavy in the air.
Watching their eldest daughter handle her brother with such responsibility and goodwill, Theron and Eris felt a long-held tension finally ease from their shoulders.
"Not until you've shown us something real. First, you will have to prove your talent. Train on your own. Learn to control your powers. Show us what your affinity can actually do. Then... we'll talk."
She thought that after giving him a warning about the harsh reality, he would back off. But she was so wrong.
Kyle brushed her hand away from his head and met her gaze without flinching.
"Oh, I will," he said with a lopsided grin. "I'll prove it to all of you. Just wait."
And with that heroic look, he picked up his bag and walked away from the table.
Elysia watched him with an expression of mixed emotions, not knowing what to make of his stunt.
"Kringeeee and creepy," she muttered.
Kyle stopped and said bitterly, "Just wait and watch."
Both of his parents were now also laughing at his antics
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The faint, rhythmic tick of the arcane clock echoed through the stone-walled classroom, a metronome counting down the seconds of their youth. Chalk dust, stirred by the breeze from cracked ventilation runes, danced like minuscule ghosts in the slanted afternoon light. The air itself was thick with the scent of scorched stone and powdered chalk, dry, sharp, and clinging to the back of the throat.
Desks sat in tight, regimented rows, each occupied by a student in the fitted gray-and-black uniform of The Aetherforge Institute, its emblem a silver-stitched cracked tower. Sleeves were rolled up, collars askew, trousers stained with the ink and dust of the Outer District streets.
Ssshhk. Ssshhk. Tap. Snap.
The sound of dozens of pencils scratching across yellowed parchment filled the room, a symphony of graphite on paper, accompanied by the soft rustle of shifting cloth and the distant, ever-present hum of mana conduits woven into the walls.
"And as you all know," the instructor barked, his enchanted pointer tapping a complex diagram on the board, "any structure designed to support passage over a Veil-cracked ravine must adhere to the seven-fold anchoring rule, or it will collapse within thirty-two hours under exposure to echo-tension. Who can explain why?"
A forest of hands shot up, except for one. Kyle was adrift in a sea of his own making, his cheek pressed into his palm, his eyes glazed over. He was not asleep; he was miles away, saving the world, a hero crowned in glory only he could see. His chair gave a soft creak as he leaned back. Beside him, his best friend Darin, eyes sharp behind his glasses, scribbled notes not out of need, but for show; he had already devoured today's lesson long ago.
Kyle sighed, the sound lost in the scratching of pencils.
This is so boring. Why am I here, learning to build bridges, when I am meant to become a transcendent?
The question was a thorn in his side, digging deeper with every lesson on Veil tension and shielded-pipe theory.
"Hey," he whispered, a faint breath meant only for one pair of ears. "Darin."
Darin didn't look up. "You're going to get us both tossed out. Again."
"Would be better than this," Kyle leaned in, his voice a conspiratorial thread. "Did you find anything else? About the affinity users?"
That got Darin's attention. He adjusted his round glasses, a spark igniting behind the lenses. "Actually, yes. I found a record… an old codex stored in the Restricted Tier. It mentions a war tactician who could manipulate the very terrain and atmosphere during the siege of London. The only problem?" He paused for effect. "Only Librarian Helseth and his staff have access. And the text itself is warranted. Only an awakened affinity holder can open it."
Kyle groaned softly. "Why is everything about this affinity locked away like it's a curse?"
Before Darin could offer a reply, the sharp, metallic clang of a ruler slammed against their desk. Instructor Enjiro, an ex-field engineer from the East Bastion, glared down at them through a brass-reinforced monocle, his presence a storm contained in a man.
"Mr. Noxvel. Since you find my lecture on the structural integrity of reality so utterly irrelevant, perhaps you'd like to educate the class on the stress-break limitations of inverted mana-fiber arches under gravity flux?"
Kyle blinked, swimming up from the depths of his grand fantasies. "Uh… bridges… are bad if they fall?" he ventured, the words hollow.
A ripple of snickers traveled through the room.
Master Enjiro seemed to swell, a vein throbbing at his temple. "Why can't you be like your father? It pains me to see his son wasting a mind that could achieve so much more. But every time I look at you, I see nothing but frivolity." He paused, the silence heavier than his shout. "Out. Hall. Now."
Kyle stood, muttering a curse beneath his breath.
To his surprise, Darin stood too.
Enjiro's narrowed gaze shifted. "Mr. Vellarn. I didn't dismiss you."
"I also didn't know the answer," Darin said smoothly. "I'll go with him."
"If you like his company so much, then be my guest," Enjiro said, his voice dripping with disdain. "But if I hear a single sound from that hallway, I'll ban you both from next week's field tour."
They left in a silence that felt louder than any noise. The long gray hall hummed with rune-light, the buzzing mana tubes overhead casting a pale, electric glow on polished stone. The faint echo of another class reciting formulas followed them.
Kyle leaned against the cool wall and stretched his arms wide. "You really followed me out?"
"Of course," Darin shrugged, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Where else would I get my daily dose of bad decisions and sarcastic commentary?"
Kyle smirked. "I swear, sometimes I think you're more into me than anyone else I've known."
Darin snorted. "Please. Your body's not my type. Too much brooding. Not enough biceps."
They both laughed, the sound a quiet, shared secret in the humming corridor.
"So… about that book," Kyle said, the laughter fading into seriousness.
Darin nodded. "I'll get us in. Somehow. If anyone's going to figure out the truth about this affinity… it's you and me."
Kyle's smile faded, replaced by a sharp, determined edge. "I'm so done with this life, Darin. Once I awaken this power, I will make it into Drayholmes. I will become more than my sister."
Darin met his gaze, the humor gone from his eyes. "Then we start by finding that book."
Some time later, the lecture bell chimed a melodic dismissal, and the mana runes along the walls dimmed. The classroom door opened, and Instructor Enjiro emerged, fixing them with a final, withering look before jerking his head toward the classroom. They filed back in.
The post-lecture bustle filled the room as students stretched and gathered their things. Kyle slumped into his chair, arms crossed behind his head, while Darin caped his pen after a final, furious scribble.
Then came a new voice, laced with familiar mischief.
"Well, well, well… what are my favorite delinquents scheming this time?"
Ten dropped onto the desk in front of them, spinning a mana ring around his finger. His smile was a beacon of trouble, his hair artfully tousled.
Kyle gave him a lazy side-eye. "Your guess is as bad as your grades."
Ten's grin widened. "I swear, Kyle, you're wasting your gifts. If I had your affinity, the things I'd do… Slip through a wall, sneak into the girls' bathhouse, maybe relocate the Headmaster's hat right in the middle of his speech."
Kyle snorted. "Classic Ten. Your ambition is an inspiration to us all."
"I'm serious!" Ten leaned forward, his voice dropping to a theatrical whisper. "Can't you, like, teleport just your arm into the hallway and tap someone's shoulder from in here? Or snag a snack from the vending machine without moving?"
"I told you already," Kyle said, straightening up with a hint of pride, "I can't teleport parts. I compress the space between two points and move through it. It's different."
Ten shrugged. "Still sounds handy." He was, despite his jokes, genuinely impressed. What Kyle could do was far from normal.
"Second," Kyle continued, "it's immoral. I'm not creeping into places I shouldn't be."
Darin nodded without looking up. "Told you he's got a conscience. Buried deep, but it's there." Kyle shot him a look.
"And third," Kyle added with a wry smirk, "have you seen some of the girls in our class? If one of them caught me peeking… I'd be a pancake with legs."
Ten burst out laughing. "Fair. Especially Rysa. I heard she bench-presses stone golems for fun."
"Exactly," Kyle grinned. "I like living. And I like my body in one complete piece."
As their laughter faded, a softer presence approached.
"Um, Kyle? Hi!"
A girl with hair neatly braided and a book hugged to her chest stood beside them. A faint blush dusted her cheeks as she fiddled with her sleeve.
Kyle blinked. "Oh. Hey, Selene."
Darin raised a knowing eyebrow.
Selene tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "So… I was just wondering. How's your sister? Elysia, right? She's in the Inner District now?"
Kyle tilted his head, surprised. "Yeah… she is. Why?"
"Oh, no reason!" she said, a little too quickly. "Just curious. I mean… she's such an amazing person. And I—uh—thought you might have that same spark."
Ten's eyes sparkled with amusement.
Kyle scratched the back of his neck. "She's... doing fine, I guess. Busy."
Selene smiled, a sweet, fleeting thing. "That's great. You're lucky to have a sister like her." She turned away, retreating back into the flow of students.
Darin immediately leaned in. "Greetings there, my fellaa. You've got yourself a secret admirer."
"Wait, what?" Kyle blinked, utterly lost.
"Nothing," Darin smirked. "You'll figure it out. Eventually."
Kyle narrowed his eyes. "That's creepy. Even for you."
Before he could press further, Ten clapped his hands together. "So, are you two still playing secret agents with that mysterious book plan?"
Darin's expression sobered instantly. "Yeah. The codex is in the Restricted Tier. It's not just a library vault; it's a repository for dangerous artifacts. That place should be in the Inner District."
"Then why isn't it?" Selene had lingered within earshot.
Kyle shrugged. "We don't know. But the librarian, Helseth, guards it like his own soul is locked inside."
"And only awakened affinity holders or senior staff can access it," Darin added.
Ten leaned back, folding his arms. "So you're saying it's impossible."
Kyle's lips twitched into a dangerous smile. "Not impossible. Just… slightly illegal."
Darin stared at him, already reading the plan forming in his eyes. "No. Whatever you're thinking, don't say it."
"I'm gonna steal Master Enjiro's access key."
Ten whooped. "Now that's the Kyle I know and love!"
"You're insane," Darin groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Enjiro has you personally flagged in his security alerts. How do you plan to get within ten feet of him, let alone his key?"
Kyle shrugged, the picture of smug confidence. "Who said anything about getting close? I've got you three."
Ten threw his hands up. "Oh no no no no. Nope. This is how people get expelled." His excitement from seconds ago evaporated, replaced by the grim reality of being used as bait.
"It'll be quick," Kyle insisted, his voice dropping to a persuasive whisper. "Like a shadow. Like a—"
"—like a soon-to-be ex-student?" Darin deadpanned.
Kyle struck a dramatic pose, chin held high. "Every hero begins with a leap of defiance!"
There was a pause.
Then, Ten clapped slowly, each clap a hollow echo in the bustling room. "Wow. That was… actually worse than I expected."
Selene giggled behind her book, her eyes shining.
Kyle sighed, his dramatic facade crumbling. "Tough crowd."
But despite the protests, the glimmer of adventure was in their eyes. And by the end of it, through a mix of charm, guilt, and the irresistible pull of a terrible idea, he had managed to weave all three of them into the fabric of his scheme. The plan was set in motion.