The morning light felt like a lie.
Aryan stood at the cracked sink, staring at his reflection in the rusted mirror. His face looked like it hadn't changed in years—same hollow eyes, same tired expression. He splashed water over his face, hoping it would wash off the heaviness in his chest. It didn't.
Downstairs, Grandpa was already up, reading the newspaper like always. The old man didn't say much. He never did. The silence between them was something they both understood—a language spoken through grunts and sighs.
"You're late," Grandpa muttered, not looking up.
"I know," Aryan replied, slipping on his school jacket. It still had a burn mark on the sleeve from some kid's fire Pluse last semester.
He stepped outside. The sky was choked with grey clouds, and the streets buzzed with life—vendors shouting, military drones humming overhead, Pluse patrols in black armor scanning IDs at the corner. This city, like every other under the World Government, ran on fear and power.
Power. The one thing Aryan didn't have.
The school gates loomed like prison bars. Inside, students flaunted their abilities like designer shoes. Sparks flew from fingertips. One girl levitated her textbooks with ease. Another summoned wind to dry her hair. They all had something.
Aryan had nothing.
As he walked through the halls, the usual whispers followed.
"Still no Pluse?""Poor guy. He's like… defective or something.""Maybe his family was cursed."
He kept his head down. He was used to this. Invisible. Powerless. Forgotten.
But lately, something felt... off.
He had started hearing things. Not voices—more like... static. Faint vibrations under his skin, like a power plant buried deep beneath the earth, waiting to rise. It always happened when he was alone. At night. Especially after he saw that symbol.
The Cube.
That night hadn't been a dream. He was sure of it. He could still feel its presence, etched into his memory like a scar. A symbol that pulsed with ancient energy. His parents used to whisper about the God Cube when they thought he was asleep. And now it was showing up in his room?
Why?
He didn't know. But he could feel something waking up.
After class, he sat alone beneath the old stairwell behind the gym. His only sanctuary.
And then, it happened again.
The world seemed to slow—just for a moment. The wind stopped. The lights flickered. And a deep hum filled his ears, low and steady, like the beat of a distant drum.
He looked up.
Standing a few feet away was a stranger. A man cloaked in a grey coat, face obscured by a scarf and goggles. No one else noticed him. It was like he wasn't even there. But Aryan could feel him. The same way he felt the Cube.
The man raised a hand slowly. Not in threat—almost in recognition.
Then he was gone.
Just like that. Blink. Empty hallway.
Aryan sat frozen. His fingers trembled.
"What the hell is happening to me…"
That night, he didn't sleep.
He stared at the ceiling again, waiting for something—anything—to make sense. But all he had were questions.
Why did he see that symbol?
Why did that man feel... familiar?
And why was there a burn mark on his palm that hadn't been there before?
A perfect outline—like a cube.