Convergence: Discovery of the Blood Stone
The year was 2027. Sixteen-year-old Oscar Hawthorn sat in the back row of his classroom, chin resting in his palm, eyes fixed on the window. As he watched the clouds drift across a sky, imagining himself riding atop them, like a magic carpet to a world far from his own. His teacher's voice was a distant whisper, blurred into white noise. History? A date? An event? It was all information destined to be forgotten the moment the bell rang. When the final bell rang, the trance broke. Amidst the scraping of chairs and the echoes of laughter, Oscar moved like a ghost unhurried, unnoticed, and unseen. During the car ride home, his parents' voices droned on about groceries, bills, and weekend plans. Oscar showed no interest, not even a nod when spoken to directly. He simply watched the world pass through the glass: storefronts, trees, houses. He felt like a traveler in a life that was not quite his own. They arrived at his grandparents' house just before dusk. As his mother reminded him to behave, Oscar stepped into the foyer, greeted by the familiar scent of incense and wood polish. While the adults gathered upstairs, Oscar drifted toward the basement. The stairs creaked beneath his weight. A loose nail snagged his toe, causing him to stumble and catch the railing. Flickering to life, the basement light revealed a labyrinth of forgotten books and trinkets. Though he had explored this space a thousand times, he relished the hunt for something new. He sifted through boxes of broken tools and dusty family albums until something caught his eye behind the old, sheet-covered piano. Tucked away sat a regal wooden treasure box, its surface carved with strange, weathered markings. He had never seen it before. Driven by a sudden, sharp curiosity, Oscar knelt and pried it open. The latch snapped. Inside lay a necklace, a ring, and a pair of earrings. But in the corner, hidden in the shadows, sat a stone the color of blood. It was smooth, vibrant, and the size of a teardrop. Rather than reflecting the light, the stone seemed to drink it in. As Oscar's fingers brushed the surface, a surge of unmappable energy jolted through him. He lifted the stone into his palm. It pulsed with a mysterious, calming rhythm. For a moment, he felt the ethereal lightness of a feather in the wind, the sunlight against his skin followed by an immense weight, as though the heavens and the earth had settled into his hands, as if he were cradling life itself. Then, the calm shattered. A blinding red light erupted from the stone. A crushing weight slammed into Oscar's chest, stealing the air from his lungs. His vision blurred as a torrent of images flooded his mind: a towering tree, a man, a woman, a serpent, and a garden. Oscar staggered back, clutching the stone as his body began to dissolve. He tried to scream, but no sound came. In a heartbeat, he vanished.