As he stepped through, it felt as if he were weightless — like space itself was folding in on itself. He hadn't jumped through space; space had simply restructured around him.
"Bam!"
He landed hard on the floor of his bedroom, flat on his back.
"Not even forward," he remarked, getting up and brushing himself off. Despite the crash, the smile on his face couldn't be suppressed. It was all so exciting. His blood raced with anticipation for the next day.
Suddenly, his sister opened his bedroom door.
"What was that sound? And when did you get back? Are you feeling better?" Khadijah fired off a barrage of questions.
"I just got back, and I slipped on something. I'm feeling better," he responded curtly, but with a warmth in his smile that his family hadn't seen before — warmer than ever.
"Oh… okay," she said, slightly startled by his expression, before turning to call out, "Guys! Muhammed's home!"
"Since when?!" came a shout from their older sister in another room.
A moment later, she appeared at his door. "Hey, what's up?"
"Nothing much. I'm feeling a lot better, so I got out early."
"But how did you get into your room without us noticing?"
"Y'all must've been really busy," he said, shrugging his shoulders with a faint grin.
"Muhammed!" his mother's voice rang out from another room.
He made his way to her door, knocking lightly before cracking it open.
"Hello, Mom. How are you?" he asked gently. As good as he felt, he realized he felt nothing — not in a bad way — just deeply present and unshaken.
"I'm good, you know," she replied casually.
Muhammed frowned slightly. She didn't know about the awakening or how reality could be shaped. Her words, though harmless, felt like quiet self-diminishment. The thought of enlightening her crossed his mind — but he remembered the importance of not speaking about one's manifestations.
So he held his tongue, keeping the smile on his face.
"Are you good, son? What did the doctor say?"
"Yeah, I'm good. I feel way better." He rolled up his sleeve to show her his arm.
"It wasn't anything serious," he added with a confident smile.
"Okay, it's good that you feel better. I made some food — it's in the kitchen."
As he stepped out of the room to grab a bite, a thought surfaced:
"What would my highest self do? It's about 10:00 PM…"
He paused for a few seconds before heading back to his room. He knew eating right before bed wouldn't help restore the brain and body to their peak. He didn't know what the next day would bring — but he'd rather save the hearty meal for after he felt like he earned it.
He understood that he could project that feeling of worthiness onto himself right now — but two things stopped him:
First, he didn't yet know what tomorrow's training would look like, so projecting an accurate experience was impossible.
Second, he knew the subconscious always listens — even when you aren't — and the body keeps the score. So he chose to act with discipline.
His family soon receded into their rooms, and he began getting ready for bed — as his highest self would. He brushed his teeth, washed his face.
Back in his room, he sat quietly and examined his body. He didn't look much different — but he felt different. Stronger. Sharper. Like he could do more.
And ever since touching Malvern's energy — and then Synergy's — he'd begun to sense his own.
From that connection, he could feel a core at his solar plexus pulsing throughout his body. It had been difficult to control at first, but he was getting the hang of moving energy through himself.
He didn't spend too long on it. Soon after, he fell asleep.
The next morning, he was woken by the ring of the doorbell.
A few seconds later, his mother called out, "Muhammed!"
He stepped out of his room quickly.
"These people said they're here for you. Apparently, you got accepted into a program. And… they pay you?"
"Oh yeah, they contacted me yesterday," he said without missing a beat. "I wanted it to be a surprise."
"Okay… so, do you have to stay there? Is it like a summer program, or do you come back home?"
"Excuse me for interjecting," Malvern's voice cut in smoothly.
"This program will take up the entirety of the summer. Muhammed will be required to live on campus with the other students. I hope that's alright with you — but we see something great in Muhammed, and we'd love to help him explore his talents."
His mother looked at him for a few moments. He couldn't tell what she was thinking — her expression unreadable — so he just stood calmly, staring back.
"What kind of talents?" she asked, her voice sharp with suspicion.
"Well… the ones that he has," Malvern said.
That's what Muhammed heard. But when he glanced at his mother, her face looked engaged — serious, even nodding, as if she had just heard a thoughtful explanation.
Muhammed blinked. He didn't expect Malvern to say something so vague — so unserious. But clearly, something else was at play. His mom was nodding and responding verbally as if she heard a full breakdown.
"Telepathy?" he wondered.
He didn't know what Malvern had done — but whatever it was, it worked. So he stayed quiet, playing along.
After a few more moments, Malvern extended a hand, shaking hers. Then he turned to Muhammed.
"Okay. Everything's all set. You can go and pack."
"Okay. I'll be down in ten minutes. Thanks, Mom," Muhammed said, trying his best to keep a neutral expression.
Back upstairs in his room, he let a wide smile finally break across his face.
As he packed his clothes and essentials, he chuckled to himself.
"I don't know what he did… but it worked. I'll ask later. It seemed like telepathy, but she responded out loud — very interesting."
Ten minutes later, Muhammed made his way downstairs. His family was waiting for him.
His mother insisted they take pictures — she always did for big moments.
So they did.
Muhammed stood with his family, smiling as the camera flashed. He felt calm, happy, unbothered. It was a nice feeling.
"All right. Bye, guys. See you in a few months."
"Bye! Enjoy!" multiple voices echoed as Muhammed walked with Malvern out to the car parked in front of the house.
And with that…
his true journey began.