The sky did not clear the next morning.
Clouds remained suspended over the city like a held breath. News reports spoke of unusual pressure shifts and electrical disturbances across multiple districts. Small blackouts. Signal disruptions. Unexplained tremors.
Five energy spikes.
Five possible awakenings.
The world called them anomalies.
Aarav felt them.
Each one like a faint pulse brushing against his mind.
He stood on the balcony of the temporary safe house — a high-rise apartment registered under a shell identity. Meera had relocated his mother overnight under the pretext of a short renovation at home. She believed the story.
For now.
"You didn't sleep," Meera said quietly from inside.
He didn't turn around. "Neither did you."
She joined him at the railing. The city stretched below them — unaware of how close it stood to fracture.
"They're searching aggressively," she said. "Kael has mobilized independent strike units."
"And the Originals?"
"No direct movement."
Aarav's jaw tightened.
"That's what worries me."
She studied him. "You felt him again, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
He tapped his chest lightly.
"Not outside. Inside."
Silence settled between them.
"Guardians don't just inherit power," Meera said carefully. "They inherit memory."
He looked at her sharply. "Memory of who?"
She hesitated.
"Of the one who came before."
The other driver.
The one who was supposed to survive.
Aarav closed his eyes briefly.
There had been flashes. Images that weren't his. Instincts he didn't learn.
He thought they were side effects.
"What if it's not inheritance?" he asked quietly.
"What else would it be?"
"What if it's continuation?"
Meera didn't answer.
Her phone vibrated.
She checked the screen and frowned.
"Energy surge. Not one of the five."
"Where?"
She turned the display toward him.
Location: three blocks away.
Close.
Too close.
Aarav felt it the moment he saw the map.
A pull.
Low, resonant.
Like something calling his name without words.
"That's not random," he said.
"No," she agreed. "It's deliberate."
Before she could stop him, he stepped back from the balcony.
"I'm going."
"Aarav—"
"I can't sit here waiting for them to activate more."
"This could be a trap."
"It probably is."
He grabbed his jacket.
"But if it's another Guardian and they're unstable—"
He didn't finish the sentence.
He didn't need to.
Meera swore under her breath and followed.
The location was an unfinished commercial tower. Concrete skeleton exposed. No glass yet in the upper floors. Construction halted months ago.
Police hadn't responded.
No public awareness yet.
Good.
The closer Aarav got, the stronger the pressure became.
Not violent.
Distorted.
Like grief radiating outward.
He entered through the side stairwell.
The building felt hollow.
Wind howled faintly through open gaps.
Meera stayed one level below, covering exits.
"If this spikes, I intervene," she said through the comm.
"Understood."
He climbed higher.
Sixth floor.
Seventh.
By the eighth, the air felt thick.
Then he heard it.
Not shouting.
Not chaos.
Just breathing.
Heavy.
Controlled.
He stepped onto the ninth floor.
A young man stood near the open edge of the structure, staring down at the street far below.
Early twenties.
Thin frame.
Hands trembling slightly at his sides.
"You feel it too," the young man said without turning.
Aarav froze.
"How long?" the stranger asked.
"Two days," Aarav replied cautiously.
The man laughed softly.
"Lucky."
He finally turned.
His eyes were bloodshot.
Not from drugs.
From not sleeping.
"I've had it for months."
Aarav's pulse quickened.
"Months?"
The man nodded. "I thought I was losing my mind."
Energy flickered faintly around him — unstable ripples in the air.
"You're a Guardian," Aarav said carefully.
The man's expression darkened.
"That's what he told me."
A chill moved through Aarav.
"He?"
"The first one."
The Original.
"When did you see him?" Aarav asked.
"First week."
The man stepped closer.
"He said I was chosen. Said I would help reshape balance."
"Reshape how?"
The man's jaw tightened.
"He didn't explain."
Energy pulsed outward briefly, cracking the concrete beneath his feet.
Aarav felt it — raw, uncontrolled.
"You're not stable," Aarav said quietly.
The man's eyes snapped up angrily.
"Stable? You think I asked for this?"
"No."
"Do you know what it's like to hear things before they happen?"
Aarav swallowed.
"Yes."
The anger in the man's face flickered into something else.
Recognition.
"You see it too?"
"Sometimes."
The man's breathing slowed slightly.
"They told me I was the third activation," he continued. "That I was ahead of schedule."
"Who told you?"
"The organization."
Aarav's chest tightened.
"They found you?"
"Yes."
"And?"
"They tried to contain me."
Energy spiked again.
Stronger this time.
Meera's voice crackled faintly in Aarav's ear.
"Levels rising. Be careful."
"What happened?" Aarav asked.
The man's lips twitched into a broken smile.
"I escaped."
Aarav felt cold.
"How?"
The man's gaze drifted to the open edge of the building.
"They miscalculated."
Memory flashed in Aarav's mind — Berlin.
Six city blocks collapsed.
"You lost control," Aarav said quietly.
The man's silence confirmed it.
"You can't hold it in forever," the man whispered. "It builds."
"I know."
"No," he said sharply. "You don't."
The energy around him surged violently.
Windows on lower floors shattered.
Concrete cracked deeper.
Aarav felt his own power respond instinctively.
Two frequencies colliding.
"Stop fighting it," Aarav said.
"I'm not fighting!"
"You are. You're resisting it like it's poison."
"Isn't it?"
Aarav hesitated.
He thought of the child he saved.
The civilians hurt.
The directors voting for execution.
Then he thought of the feeling during the implosion against Kael's dampener.
That wasn't destruction.
That was correction.
"It reacts to imbalance," Aarav said slowly. "To emotional rupture."
The man laughed bitterly.
"My entire life is rupture."
The floor trembled.
Meera's voice sharpened.
"His spike is exceeding threshold."
"Give me a minute," Aarav replied.
"There isn't one."
The man grabbed his head suddenly, dropping to his knees.
Voices.
Fragments.
Precognition flooding uncontrolled.
Aarav felt it too.
Visions bleeding outward.
Cars crashing.
Buildings cracking.
A bridge collapsing.
It wasn't just this building.
It was chain reaction.
If he detonated here, the structural vibration would cascade.
Multiple casualties.
Aarav stepped forward.
"Look at me."
The man's eyes were unfocused.
"Look at me!"
Their gazes locked.
For a split second—
The noise quieted.
"You're not alone," Aarav said firmly.
"I've been alone for months."
"Not anymore."
The energy between them surged again.
Aarav didn't resist this time.
He let his own power rise — not outward.
Not explosive.
But stabilizing.
Like a counterweight.
The air hummed.
Two pulses aligning.
The concrete stopped cracking further.
The man's breathing slowed.
"You're… different," he whispered.
"No," Aarav replied.
"I just stopped fighting it."
Silence spread gradually across the floor.
The wind softened.
The pressure eased.
Meera stepped onto the level cautiously, weapon lowered but ready.
The young Guardian looked at her warily.
"She's not here to cage you," Aarav said.
"Not today," Meera added carefully.
The man studied them both.
"What happens now?" he asked quietly.
Aarav hesitated.
Because he didn't fully know.
But he knew one thing.
"If we stay separate," he said, "they control us."
"Both sides," Meera added.
The man looked toward the open sky.
"And if we don't?"
Aarav felt it again.
The Original's presence.
Watching.
Listening.
Testing.
"If we don't," Aarav said slowly, "we choose our own balance."
Silence followed.
Then—
A faint voice echoed behind them.
Not physical.
Not audible in the normal sense.
But present.
"You are learning."
The temperature dropped slightly.
The Original materialized near the far column, hands folded behind his back.
The unstable Guardian tensed instantly.
"You," he hissed.
The Original smiled faintly.
"You have both exceeded projections."
Aarav stepped forward.
"Stop manipulating us."
"I am not manipulating," the Original replied calmly.
"I am observing."
"You triggered him early," Aarav said.
The Original tilted his head.
"Acceleration is necessary."
"For what?" Meera demanded.
The Original's eyes shifted toward the horizon.
"The fracture is closer than your organization believes."
Aarav's pulse quickened.
"What fracture?"
The Original's gaze returned to him.
"When Guardians begin appearing simultaneously, it is not random."
Five spikes.
Now six.
"Something is coming," Aarav said.
"Yes."
"What?"
The Original's faint smile returned.
"A correction."
The word felt heavy.
"Correction of what?" Aarav pressed.
The Original's form began fading slightly.
"Of imbalance long ignored."
"That's not an answer."
"It is the only one you are ready for."
And then—
He was gone.
The air normalized fully.
The unstable Guardian exhaled slowly.
"Correction?" he whispered.
Aarav looked at Meera.
She looked pale.
"If he's right," she said quietly, "this isn't about rogue energy."
"It's systemic," Aarav finished.
Below them, the city continued unaware.
Traffic moved.
People lived.
Buildings stood.
But something beneath it all was shifting.
Multiple Guardians activating.
The Originals observing.
The organization dividing.
And now—
Two awakened, standing on unfinished concrete, staring at a future neither fully understood.
The unstable Guardian extended his hand hesitantly.
"My name is Raghav," he said.
Aarav took it.
"Aarav."
For the first time—
The energy between Guardians didn't feel chaotic.
It felt synchronized.
And somewhere beyond sight—
The sky darkened further.
Not storm.
Not weather.
Something larger.
Watching.
Preparing.