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Search : StoryLabo or click the link on my bio
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The morning of July 31st had begun like any other day at Saint Augustine's orphanage. Well, almost.
- "Happy birthday, my little Aiden!" sang Mrs. Pemberton as soon as she saw him come down the stairs, his hair still tousled from sleep.
Eleven years old. Damn, eleven years old today.
- "11 PM sharp, it's marked on your birth certificate," she added while cracking eggs into the sizzling pan. "A very punctual baby, already back then!"
At breakfast, all the children sang a more or less coordinated "Happy Birthday" that made Aiden smile despite himself. Even Tommy, who usually sulked in his corner, put his heart into it.
And then Sarah arrived.
- "Happy birthday, my big boy!" she said bending down to place a kiss on his forehead.
Hum Hum, fortunately puberty hasn't knocked at the door yet, otherwise it would be a diplomatic incident.
- "Thank you, Sarah," he replied with an innocent smile that hid his thoughts well. "That's kind."
After breakfast, Aiden slipped away discreetly. He had an errand to run, and a very particular one.
The place where Leblanc had received the mental order to deposit the bank card wasn't far, a small park a few streets from the orphanage. Aiden found what he was looking for, there was an envelope slipped under a bench, exactly where he had programmed his "employee" for it to be.
Inside the envelope, the brand new credit card, and with it, a small post-it with the code scribbled in Leblanc's handwriting: 1854.
Perfect! Thank you, my sugar daddy. You follow orders to the letter.
He slipped everything into his secret notebook, the one no one at the orphanage knew about, and immediately felt lighter.
When you no longer have to worry about the financial aspect, part of our worries lightens.
That was exactly it. For the first time since his reincarnation, he had the means for his ambitions. 100,000 pounds sterling opened quite a few doors, even for an eleven-year-old kid.
The rest of the day passed in a relaxed and joyful atmosphere. Mrs. Pemberton had prepared a cake, nothing extraordinary, but made with love. The kind of cake that reminds you that even in an orphanage, there are people who care about you.
When evening came, everyone gathered in the common room. Eleven small candles danced on the chocolate cake, casting warm shadows on the faded walls.
- "Make a wish!" said Mary clapping her hands.
A wish, huh?
Aiden closed his eyes, pretended to think intensely, then blew on the candles all at once. They all went out in one go, drawing applause from the other children.
My wish? That this night finally brings the answers I'm waiting for.
After sharing the cake and receiving a few small symbolic gifts, a used book from Mrs. Pemberton, candies hidden by Eddie, a drawing from Peter, Aiden went up to bed.
But he had no intention of sleeping for now.
This night would be special and he was waiting for the hour of his birth to wish himself happy birthday. A bit like Harry Potter, he drew happy birthday in the dust.
Happy birthday to you too Harry, you should have already received Hagrid's visit last night, you and I are starting a journey that will change our lives... I really can't wait.
He lay down on his bed, closed his eyes, and let his consciousness drift toward his familiar mental space. The brick platform welcomed him as always, floating in its ocean of orange clouds.
If something must happen, this is where it will happen.
Meanwhile, the clock was ticking, just like the hour that advanced inexorably. 10:30 PM. 10:45 PM. 10:55 PM.
Aiden was still meditating, unaware for now that the hour of his birth was really close.
11 PM.
Right at the second when the clock hand made its movement and switched to the hour of his birth, the pain exploded.
FUCKING HELL SHIT!
It was as if someone had just planted a white-hot knife in every nerve of his body. Aiden sat up in his bed, a hand pressed to his mouth to stifle the scream that threatened to come out. His eyes rolled back, and he felt something wet flowing from his nose.
Blood. Blood again.
Above London, the sky rumbled and not a small discreet rumble, a deafening crash that made the orphanage windows vibrate and probably woke half the neighborhood.
I need to get out. I need to get out NOW.
Aiden got up staggering, his legs wobbling under the pain that kept growing. He put on his shoes hastily, glanced at the other children who were still sleeping, miracle, they hadn't moved but some had still jumped unconsciously, and then slipped out of the room.
Going down the stairs was an ordeal. Each step sent a new wave of suffering into his skull. He had to stop several times to catch his breath, his hand clenched on the banister.
Damn, what's happening to me?
He managed to reach the front door without making noise. Thank God, Mrs. Pemberton had always been a heavy sleeper. He delicately turned the key, pushed the door, and went out into the London night.
The cold July air, and yes, even in summer, London remained London, slapped his face. The pain now pulsed throughout his body, as if his veins carried molten lava instead of blood.
The park. I need to go to the park.
If he had to agonize, it was better to do it in the park grass, more distant and with no one at this hour, rather than in the middle of the street, like a neurotic madman.
He staggered through the deserted streets, his steps echoing strangely on the wet cobblestones. Above him, clouds massed with supernatural speed, forming a dark spiral that seemed centered... on him.
Oh, shit. That's not good.
He finally reached the small park where he had recovered the bank card a few hours earlier. The place was plunged in darkness, lit only by a failing streetlight that blinked erratically.
Aiden collapsed on the lawn, his knees giving way under him. The pain now reached heights he had never imagined. It was worse than death. Worse than the car accident that had killed Marcus.
What's happening to me, damn it? WHAT'S HAPPENING TO ME?
Cold sweats stuck his clothes to his skin. It began to rain, first a few drops, then a shower, then a deluge that quickly transformed the park into a swamp.
But that was nothing compared to what was preparing above his head.
The clouds continued to swirl, faster and faster, lower and lower. And at the center of this infernal spiral, something pulsed. Something luminous, terrible, magnificent.
No... no, no, NO!
Aiden looked up at the sky, and in a flash of lucidity in the midst of suffering, he understood.
It's my magical awakening. My fucking magical majority arriving eleven years late!
Suddenly, the world exploded in pure light.
Lightning, but not just any lightning, streaked the sky with surgical precision. It literally tore through the darkness, tracing a perfect line between the clouds and the ground. Between the sky and Aiden.
Oh, shit...
The lightning struck him full force.
The shock was... indescribable.
Imagine having the energy of a nuclear power plant injected directly into your veins. Imagine every atom of your body starting to vibrate at the frequency of the universe. Imagine your soul being caught in a cosmic blender and kneaded with the raw force of creation itself.
Aiden screamed, a cry that had nothing human about it, a cry that resonated in the park but was drowned by the noise of rain on concrete and the sound of wind whipping tree branches.
Then it was absolute darkness.
His smoking body collapsed on the soaked grass, motionless. Around him, the lawn was carbonized in a perfect circle three meters in diameter. The air smelled of ozone and... something else. Maybe burnt flesh.
Above, the clouds slowly dispersed, giving way to a starry sky of supernatural clarity.
In the carbonized grass, Aiden Mortensen lay unconscious, his body still smoking with residual energy.
Somewhere in the depths of his unconscious mind, his brick platform still floated in its ocean of orange clouds. Except now, it was no longer alone.
Other islands were beginning to emerge from the clouds. Other structures, more complex, that populated his entire mental space, each different from the other and what had been only a vast sky had transformed into a small world.
His mental empire had just taken on a new dimension.
Literally.