"Ty, we're going to miss you!"
Jordan's voice echoed through the compound like a last-minute protest.
"Let it go," Naomi said, pulling him away from the suitcase so I could load it into the car.
"Ty, let's go," Marcus called from inside the vehicle. He was seated beside Darius already, engine running.
"The ride to the Nova Ascension Terminal will be long, so get yourself used to Earth while you still can."
The car rumbled to life and began its quiet journey out of the estate. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting golden streaks across the road. A sense of calm washed over me—but deep beneath that, anticipation buzzed like electricity.
We arrived at N.A.T. The Nova Ascension Terminal, a sleek megastructure of chrome and black glass that shimmered in the morning light. Dozens of convoys lined the plaza, but one stood out Stormblade's.
Jelani Okafor—Nigeria's No1 Ranker, codenamed Stormblade stood tall, his cloak fluttering in the desert wind like something out of a myth.
"Late as ever, Darius," he said, extending a hand with a grin.
"I'm going to pretend you weren't talking to me," Darius replied as he stepped out and pulled him into a hug.
"You weren't even planning on leaving the car, were you?" Stormblade smirked.
"I'm just here to drop off this idiot. If that answers your question."
Stormblade chuckled. "Well, I hope we can catch up when I return in two months."
"Wait—two months?" I blurted. "By the time I return, summer break will be over!"
Marcus turned to me with a shrug. "Oh, you weren't told?"
He grinned. "Well… bye now. See ya when I see ya."
We pulled up to the Nova Ascension Terminal just as the sun began to dip below the horizon. But no one was looking at the sky—because floating just above the terminal platform was a sight too massive to ignore.
It didn't look like a spaceship—it looked like a city carved from starlight.
The NSS Celestial Ark, they called it. Part of the Nova Space Station Series. Government Class. Reserved for diplomatic, military, or classified missions. From the ground, it looked more like a floating fortress than a vessel. It was broad, layered and built to intimidate, as though it could shoulder the weight of planets. The hull was smooth black obsidian lined with glowing blue veins—circuit-like lines that pulsed like it had a heartbeat.
Its four propulsion wings arched out in a cross formation, hovering in perfect silence above the landing pad. The antigravity cores beneath it hummed low, distorting the air around them with invisible energy. Under the ship's massive belly was the golden insignia of the Nigerian Space Authority: a bronze eagle stretching its wings across the globe.
Stormblade looked up with a familiar grin. "Still as beautiful as ever."
But what got me wasn't how it looked—it was how it moved.
The Ark didn't blast off. It ascended. When it was time to lift, the antigravity field brightened beneath it, and the whole thing began to rise with a low, steady resonance. No jolt. No flame. Just a seamless drift upward like it was being invited into the sky. Once it reached the threshold, the back thrusters activated—not fire, but a spiraling mist of violet energy, like lightning dissolved in water. It shimmered, then vanished into the clouds.
A few minutes later, I was walking through its corridors—and if the outside was impressive, the inside was unreal
The main hallway was wider than the lobby of most luxury hotels. Holographic signs floated in midair above each doorframe, glowing softly as they changed language based on who approached. The walls were reflective metal cool to the touch, but subtly shifting in hue depending on the ship's internal light.
We passed lounges that looked more like space-age cafés: reclining chairs with oxygen-balanced airflow, transparent AR windows showing real-time projections of Earth from orbit. Military officers and high-level personnel walked past us quietly. Everyone moved like they had a purpose.
On the lower decks, there were **training bays**—equipped with holographic terrain for power users to train in full combat scenarios. One room could simulate zero gravity, another could replicate Martian or Jovian pressure. There were **meditation pods**, each one calibrated with sound and gravity fields to match specific planetary atmospheres. Even the air inside was unnervingly clean. Not sterile—just... efficient. Artificial.
At the core of the ship was a glass sphere called the Navigation Room. I caught a glimpse of it before we were redirected. Inside, engineers floated in zero gravity, interacting with light-based controls that responded to eye movement and hand gestures. The heart of the ship pulsed with soft azure light, humming like it was alive.
"Like it?" Stormblade asked as we passed a curved balcony that overlooked the Command Deck.
"I don't know what I expected," I said. "But this... this feels like the future trying to erase the past."
He smiled. "It usually does."
Fifteen minutes later, the boarding platform rose, the ship's turbines humming softly beneath us.
"You're sitting with me, kid. We have things to discuss," Stormblade said, motioning for me to follow him into a VIP cabin.
He didn't look like a superhero right now—just a man curious about the boy without powers.
"Darius says you use all your free time to study. So tell me… what's your take on magic?"
I straightened up. "There are people with magic powers, sure. But mine's all tricks. Sleight of hand."
"You seem excited," he said, watching me a little too closely.
"Mr. Stormblade, I've been looking for someone to *practice on.* So this is kind of perfect."
His eyebrow twitched. "Practice?"
"Hypnosis," I said. "It's easy, if you know what you're doing."
"Really?" Stormblade crossed his arms. "Explain it to me."
"Okay, first—someone's ability to be hypnotized depends on the strength of their mental wall. If it's weak, they're easy prey."
"And if their wall is stronger than yours?"
"Then you're wasting your time," I replied with a smirk.
He leaned in. "So… can you hypnotize me?"
"Are you sure?" I said. "Let me warm up."
I pointed to one of the security guards in the room. "Hey, you—yes, you. Sir, your name is John, right?"
The man nodded, confused.
"Cool. Everyone gather around!" I shouted. "I'm going to prove I don't need powers to thrive."
Curious passengers gathered. I gave John a deep stare.
"Look into my eyes… and sleep."
I snapped my fingers.
John slumped instantly, snoring.
The crowd gasped.
"Okay, now your turn, Mr. Stormbreaker."
"It's Stormblade. Do I look like an axe to you?" he grumbled.
I grinned. "Relax. I brought a prop."
A steward entered with a cooked turkey, which I dramatically placed between us.
"I'll need five thousand credits from Mars if this works."
Stormblade rolled his eyes.
"Watch closely…"
SNAP!
Stormblade dropped forward, smacking the table with a thud. Then—
He started laughing.
"You thought I was really out?" he said, standing upright with a grin. "Don't overestimate yourself, kid."
I sighed. "You really air-quoted *magic* at me, huh?"
Then he paused. "But hey, about that turkey—how did *it* fall asleep?"
Everyone turned to the bird… which had indeed slumped over when I snapped. A second snap brought it back to life, flapping violently.
"...What *was* that?" Stormblade asked.
I smirked but said nothing.
He studied me with narrowed eyes.
The ship descended through the icy atmosphere of Jupiter's moon, **Callista-5**, one of the major colonies for the Jupiter Project.
The registration dome glowed under the artificial sky.
A voice buzzed in the comms:
**"Next: Tyrone Smith. Status: Null."**
I stepped forward, boots crunching over the sterile floor.
They scanned me from head to toe.
**"Description: Tall. Dark-skinned. Full black hair. No known ability."**
I stared at the words glowing above me like a warning label.
Then someone stepped forward.
A girl.
Tall, athletic, and cloaked in elite Jupiter Guard robes. Her sharp eyes burned with confidence.
"Hey… you. Null boy."
I looked up.
"I'm Zaria M'Baku," she said. "Daughter of Jupiter High Commander General M'Baku. You wanna prove you belong here?"
She raised a fist.
"Then fight me."
Later that night
*I was weightless again.*
Floating in the dark. Then light—blinding, yet warm. A silhouette formed from the radiance. A human-shaped being composed of swirling stars and energy. Not Tymie. Something older.
The **Sentient Zone** itself.
"You are awakening," it said. "You were born not just powerless, but untouched. And yet… that makes you the vessel of origin. Of possibility."
It touched my chest, and I felt heat bloom inside me like a second sun.
"Soon, you will no longer chase power. You will become it."
I gasped—and woke up in my bed.