Eli sat on his bed, admiring the simple ring he had just made. Its plastic sheen caught the light, but there was something else about it—something he could feel more than see. The ring wasn't just an ordinary toy anymore. It pulsed with a faint energy, a connection to the essence that had once been the robot. He could feel it, almost like the ring was breathing in sync with him.
After staring at it for what felt like hours, Eli finally slipped the ring onto his finger. The moment it clicked into place, a soft warmth spread through his hand, then up his arm, and finally into his chest. It was as if the energy he had poured into the ring was now flowing back into him, in a strange, cyclical motion. The sensation reminded him of the time he had accidentally touched a hot iron, his father's reflexes saving him from getting burned, and the anger his dad felt when the iron had scorched his skin.
It wasn't painful, though—just intense. Eli stood up and rushed over to the small broken mirror propped against the side of his father's workbench. It was part of one of his dad's unfinished projects, a remnant that Eli had always used for his experiments.
He switched on his eyes, using the ability that allowed him to see beyond the natural world. When he looked at the ring, he saw it glow softly—a strange light that wrapped faintly around his body. The glow was weak, but it was there. He could feel the ring's energy, like a quiet hum in the background.
The light tasted like metal, like the brief memory of that hot iron when it had nearly burned him. His father had destroyed the iron afterward, furious at the pain it had caused. And now, this ring held something of that memory—the faint echo of protection, though not quite enough to make him invincible.
Eli turned toward the wooden plank on the table, one his father always joked about breaking with his bare hands. Would the ring help him? He felt confident, almost too confident, as he raised his hand and swung it down with all his might.
The moment his hand connected with the wood, a jolt of pain shot through him. He immediately grabbed his hand, jumping in place as he clutched it tightly. It still hurt! But something was different—the pain was duller, less sharp than it should've been.
He stared at the plank, now sporting a small crack where his hand had hit it. The ring hadn't made him strong, but it had done something. Eli grinned despite the pain. The fact that he could dull the pain, even slightly, was exciting.
A small increase of almost no force is still a small force, he reminded himself. He knew the ring wouldn't make him Superman overnight, but this was a start. He was still learning, and this was proof that his powers had potential.
Before he could think more about it, he heard his mother's voice calling from upstairs, a mix of concern and authority in her tone.
"Eli, are you down there? Come get something to eat!"
Eli winced, looking at his hand and the ring still on his finger. He quickly ran upstairs, calling back, "Yes, Mom!" as he sprinted up the stairs, his excitement making him forget the sting in his hand.
When Eli emerged from the basement workshop and entered the kitchen, his mother was already setting the table. She turned to him and smiled, noticing the ring on his finger.
"Did you make that?" she asked, gesturing to the ring. "Is that from the workshop?"
Eli nodded quickly. "Yeah, I made it. Just finished a few minutes ago."
His mother chuckled, walking over to inspect it. "Looks like you've been busy. Did you remember to turn off the furnace?"
"Yes, Mom," Eli said, his voice slightly hurried as he tried to cover his tracks. He ran over to the table where a plate of mac and cheese sat waiting for him. He wasn't particularly fond of mac and cheese, but when his mom made it, it always tasted better than anyone else's.
"Your dad should be home soon," she said, sitting down across from him as he shoveled a mouthful of food into his mouth. "He'll want to see your new creation."
Eli just nodded with his mouth full, trying to hide his grin. His mom laughed softly, her eyes filled with warmth as she watched him.
A few moments later, the sound of the front door creaking open reached their ears, followed by the familiar heavy footsteps of his father. Eli jumped up from his chair and raced toward the door.
"I could smell the sound of your car!" Eli called out as he met his dad in the hallway. "You need gas."
His father let out a hearty laugh, ruffling Eli's hair. "Feeling better, huh? I can tell. They let you out of the hospital early?"
"Yeah," Eli said proudly. "They let me out because I helped Miss Clara."
His dad paused, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. He exchanged a glance with Eli's mom, who had just joined them.
"Miss Clara?" his father asked, his voice tinged with worry. "The same Miss Clara from the hospital? What did she need help with?"
Eli hesitated for a moment. He knew his parents wouldn't understand, not the way he did. So he kept it simple. "She asked me to get something for her daughter. It was in a box she buried at the hospital."
There was a brief moment of silence before his father burst out laughing. "You've got quite the imagination, kiddo! You should be a storyteller one day with ideas like that."
Eli smiled, relieved that his father hadn't questioned it further. He loved his parents, but he couldn't tell them the truth—not about his powers. In all the movies he'd seen, people with abilities like his always kept them a secret. It was part of the responsibility, part of the mystery.
And now, Eli was going to do the same.
As the night wore on, Eli couldn't shake the excitement that buzzed in his chest. He sat on his bed later that evening, the ring still on his finger, feeling the faint pulse of energy flow through him. The world outside his window was dark and quiet, but Eli's mind was alive with possibilities.
His powers were real. He had changed something. And he knew that if he kept pushing, if he kept testing the limits of what he could do, he would uncover more. Maybe he wasn't like the superheroes in the movies—he wasn't invincible, or super strong—but he had something unique.
He had control over the essence of things, the power to shape the world around him, one small step at a time.
And that power? It was his secret.
With a quiet smile, Eli glanced out the window one last time before lying back on his bed. Tomorrow, he would push a little further, test a little more. But for tonight, he'd let himself rest, the faint glow of the ring on his finger the only light in the room.