Giva walked through the warehouse the same way he did every morning, yet something in the air felt off. He couldn't explain it. It was like waking up and knowing someone had moved the furniture around while he slept. Everything looked the same… but it wasn't.
The storage hall was huge, damp, and noisy.Tecno-magical machines that were supposed to make work easier were constantly breaking down, and the mix of heat and the smell of old wood could irritate anyone. But none of that bothered him today.
In fact… everything felt too sharp.
He could hear tiny changes in people's voices.He felt a faint vibration in the air, as if the walls themselves whispered.The flickering light seemed to blink in a specific rhythm.And when a crate fell in the distance, he turned his head before the sound even reached him.
"Weird," he muttered, frowning.
He grabbed the list of crates he needed to move. Normally he would reread it two or three times, but today a single glance was enough. He knew exactly where each crate was, its weight, the best route, the quickest order… everything clicked into place in his mind like someone had organized the chaos for him.
"Since when do I think like this…?"
He took a deep breath.Maybe it was just stress, anxiety, exhaustion — or all of the above. Life had already pushed him to operate at the edge for years. But this… this was different. It was like someone had turned up the resolution of the world.
He began moving crates.
Then something happened.
He picked up a box that weighed around 35 kilos.Thick. Heavy. Awkward.
Except… it didn't feel heavy.
He felt the weight, yes — but his arms responded with a strange precision, as if they had automatically calculated the box's center of gravity before he even lifted it.
It wasn't super strength.It wasn't speed.
It was efficiency — almost like technique.
Technique he had never learned.
"What the hell…?" he whispered under his breath.
But work wouldn't wait.He had to keep going.
As he carried the crate down the back corridor, he passed the restricted section — the place where the company stored confiscated or damaged items. Workers avoided that area. They said the machines inside were cursed, unstable, full of forgotten magic and broken tech.
Giva had never believed those stories.
But today…something drew his attention there.
A faint blue shimmer flickered between two shelves.Small. Subtle. Almost invisible.
He shouldn't go near it.He knew he shouldn't.
But something in his chest tugged at him, like a voice calling without sound.
He stepped closer.
The object was a metallic sphere, threaded with thin veins of crystal across its surface. It looked dormant, maybe even broken — like it had been collecting dust for years. But when Giva reached out, the surface glowed softly. Warm. Alive. Waiting.
His heart jumped.The sphere glowed brighter.
For a split second, he felt something pass into his skin — not electricity, but heat, like a breath of energy slipping beneath the surface. It didn't hurt. It felt almost natural, like the sphere had recognized him.
The air around him vibrated.Something inside him stretched — a muscle he didn't know he had.
And then, abruptly, the glow vanished.
Silence dropped around him.Too still.Too quiet.
Giva stumbled back, nearly dropping the crate.
He looked around.
No one had seen anything.
"This didn't happen…" he whispered, trying to convince himself.
But the truth pulsed in his chest.
It had happened.
He walked back to his tasks, pretending everything was normal, but nothing felt normal. The world around him moved like a grid of perfect calculations. Distances. Weights. Angles. paths. He knew where things would fall. He moved with accuracy that didn't belong to the man he had been yesterday.
And for the first time in years…he finished his work before everyone else.
"Damn, Giva, what are you eating?" one coworker joked."Never seen you move like that."
Giva forced a laugh.
"Just… focused today, I guess."
But deep down, he knew the truth.
Something inside him had woken up.
Something he didn't understand.Something he hadn't asked for.Something no one could ever know about.
On the way home, the traffic felt slower than usual.People moved in ways he could predict without effort.He knew exactly when the bus would brake — before the driver even touched the pedal.
Pedestrians, cars, every tiny movement…he anticipated everything.
The world felt sharper.More logical.Almost slowed down.
But his heart raced — not from fear, but from the uneasy truth forming beneath all that clarity:
Giva wasn't just "more focused."
Something inside his body was changing.
And whatever it was…it had started earlier that morning.
In the warehouse.
Inside that glowing sphere.
And this was only the beginning.