New York had a rhythm. Fast, brutal, and indifferent. It didn't care who you were or what you dreamed about. You either moved with the tide or drowned in it.
Kai moved.
He walked the cracked sidewalk toward school, his headphones in but no music playing. Just static. And not the radio kind—the other kind. The kind that crawled under your skin and made your fingertips itch.
It had started after the dream.
At first, he thought it was nerves. Maybe stress. Maybe insomnia from playing too many late-night games or staying up rereading those weird Reddit posts about ancient myths. But no. This was different.
He could feel something inside him humming. Alive.
His school wasn't anything special. Midtown Academy. Small campus, big drama. Half the kids came from money and the other half pretended they did. The only thing they had in common was trying to act like they weren't dead inside.
Kai wasn't popular, but he wasn't invisible either. He was somewhere in between—the "he's hot but weird" category. He preferred it that way. Being noticed was... dangerous.
Especially now.
He walked into the building and was greeted by the usual wave of noise. Lockers slamming. Laughter that was too loud. Someone yelling about a history quiz. The floor smelled like bleach and bad choices.
"Kai!"
He turned.
It was Serena. Tall, red curls, piercing eyes, and a permanent air of someone who knew what everyone in the room had Googled last night. She walked up with two coffees in one hand and a grin that said trouble.
"You look like you haven't slept in a week," she said, handing him one.
"Thanks. I haven't."
"Nightmares again?"
He hesitated. "Something like that."
Serena knew a bit more than most. Not the whole reincarnated god stuff—just the insomnia and strange dreams. Enough to make her curious, not enough to make her run.
"Let me guess," she said, leaning against his locker. "Fire. Screaming. Vague sense of cosmic doom?"
He blinked.
"Lucky guess," she added, sipping her drink. "You're not that hard to read, Kai. You've got that tortured Greek statue thing going on."
He cracked a smile. "I'm Brazilian."
"Still counts. You've got mythological cheekbones. Don't fight it."
Before he could answer, the lights flickered.
Just for a second.
Then again.
And again.
He looked up.
A hum buzzed in the air. Not the usual electric kind. This was deeper. Older. Like something behind the walls had woken up and was trying to remember how to scream.
"Did you feel that?" he asked.
Serena frowned. "Feel what?"
She hadn't noticed.
But others had. He saw it in the way some students stopped mid-step. The way a teacher clutched their pen too tightly. The way the janitor muttered something in Spanish and touched a charm around his neck.
Something was changing.
And Kai was at the center of it.
Lunch came and went. Kai didn't eat much. Food felt wrong in his mouth. Like chewing was too slow. Like his body wanted something else.
He sat on the rooftop alone, looking out over the skyline. Smoke curled in the distance. Probably a car fire or some dumb stunt.
But it reminded him.
Of other fires. Sacred ones. Forbidden ones.
He closed his eyes.
In his mind, he was back on that mountain—the one with the sky cracked above it and the gods circling like vultures. He felt the heat again. The pain. The betrayal.
And the choice.
The one he made.
To give the flame.
To share it.
To break the pact.
He gritted his teeth.
His fingers curled around the rooftop's edge. The metal burned under his grip. When he let go, it was warped. Blackened.
He stared.
No way.
His skin hadn't burned. No blisters. No pain.
He held his hand up. The lines were back—those glowing threads under the skin. They pulsed once. Twice.
Then faded.
"Okay," he whispered. "This is happening."
That night, the city changed.
It was subtle at first. A weird fog creeping in over the East River. Animals acting strange. Dogs barking at corners. Cats vanishing.
Then came the sirens.
Not police. Not ambulances.
Air raid sirens.
Old ones. Ones that shouldn't have worked anymore.
Kai sat bolt upright in bed.
The air tasted metallic.
He ran to the window and looked out.
A tree was moving.
Not in the wind. Not naturally.
It was walking.
Roots tore up the concrete as it dragged itself forward, bark splitting open to reveal a core of burning sap. Birds circled it, screeching like they were being murdered.
Then, across the street, a man stepped out of a car—and screamed.
His shadow peeled off the ground. Literally detached. It rose up behind him and wrapped around his face like a mask.
He collapsed.
The shadow stood.
Kai stumbled back from the window.
This wasn't a dream.
This was the beginning.
The gods weren't here yet.
But the world was starting to remember them.
And it was already too late to stop it.
The next morning, Midtown Academy was closed.
The official reason? "Electrical malfunctions."
The real reason? Half the students who showed up yesterday were now in hospitals—or psychiatric wards.
Kai sat on the edge of his fire escape, hoodie pulled tight around his head, watching steam rise from the manholes below. Sirens still echoed every couple of minutes. Rumors had started flooding the internet.
People were calling it the Awakening.
Others said it was the apocalypse.
But Kai knew better.
This was just phase one.
His fingertips itched. The glow was more constant now. He'd learned to hide it with gloves. Not that it helped much when he kept melting doorknobs.
He checked his phone. No messages. Not from Serena. Not from anyone.
Everyone was scared.
And somehow, that made them all less human.
He climbed down the fire escape and walked the block. Every step buzzed with tension. The air watched him. Pigeons circled but wouldn't land. A street performer on 7th Ave played a melody that made Kai's chest ache.
He turned into the alley where it had first happened—the fire. The memory from the dream. Except now, it wasn't a dream.
There was a mark burned into the brick wall. A symbol.
His symbol.
A double spiral crossed with a flame.
He raised his hand to it.
And for the first time, it responded.
The symbol glowed.
And a doorway opened.
Not a metaphorical one.
A literal crack in the air, lined with golden threads and whispering shadows. A place between places.
And standing inside it was a girl.
Not Serena. Someone else.
Someone ancient.
Her eyes were stars. Her voice was thunder wrapped in honey.
"Prometheus," she said. "The world remembers."
Then she stepped forward.
And everything changed.