The first rays of sunlight slipped through the blinds, painting soft golden stripes across the walls of Hermes Caine's room. The sharp buzz of his alarm jolted him awake, cutting through the quiet morning air. He groaned, reaching out blindly to slap the snooze button, but his fingers missed the mark, knocking the clock to the floor instead.
"Great start," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. The cool wooden floor sent a shiver up his spine, but it was enough to shake off the last remnants of sleep. Hermes sat there for a moment, staring at the shelf across the room. Row after row of track trophies gleamed faintly in the morning light, their polished surfaces a reminder of countless early mornings just like this one.
He stretched, arms reaching up and back until his shoulders popped. His smoke-colored hair, a unique swirl of black and gray, stuck out at odd angles, refusing to be tamed. As he stood, his phone buzzed on the nightstand. He grabbed it with a quick glance at the screen: a text from Jordan Quinn, his best friend since forever.
"U awake? Meet me at the gates. Big practice today. Don't back out."
Hermes snorted softly. "I don't back out," he muttered, tossing the phone back onto the bed. He shuffled to the bathroom, yawning as he flipped on the light. The mirror greeted him with a less-than-friendly reflection. His hair was a mess, his green eyes still half-lidded with sleep, and faint shadows underlined them thanks to staying up too late watching a movie he couldn't even remember now.
He splashed cold water on his face, wincing at the chill but grateful for the jolt of energy. With a practiced motion, he combed through his hair, managing to wrangle the unruly strands into something that looked halfway decent. The streaks of gray always gave him trouble—just enough to look unique but too much to behave under a comb. He gave up after a few passes, deciding that the tousled look was part of his charm anyway.
Back in his room, Hermes threw on a pair of grey sweatpants and his favorite hoodie, one he'd had since middle school. It was a little worn at the cuffs, but it was comfortable and, more importantly, lucky. He shoved his textbooks into his backpack, zipping it up in one quick motion, then grabbed the note his mom had left on the counter downstairs.
"Don't forget to feed Bailey before you go! Love you."
The golden retriever greeted him with a wagging tail and a hopeful look as Hermes poured food into her bowl. He knelt down, giving her a quick scratch behind the ears. "Big day for you, huh? Eat, nap, repeat," he said with a smirk.
Stepping outside, the morning air was crisp and cool, the kind that hinted at the start of fall. Hermes adjusted the strap of his backpack and set off down the sidewalk, the faint crunch of leaves under his sneakers. The sky had a strange quality to it today—not the usual clear blue, but something off. The light seemed sharper, almost metallic, and for a moment, Hermes squinted up at the horizon.
"Looks weird," he muttered to himself, but the thought passed as quickly as it had come.
When he reached the school gates, Jordan was already there, leaning against the fence with his usual lopsided grin. "You're late," he said, crossing his arms dramatically.
"I'm three minutes early," Hermes shot back, shaking his head.
"Details, details. Come on, superstar, Coach is gonna be on us today."
Hermes grinned despite himself. Just another normal morning, he thought. Another normal day.
The school was alive with its usual morning chaos. Lockers slammed, conversations bounced off the walls, and the faint scent of coffee lingered from the teachers' lounge. Hermes navigated the bustling hallway with somewhat ease, greeting friends and classmates as he passed. His natural charm and easy grin made him popular without even trying, and today was no different.
"Hey, Hermes! Ready for the big meet?" a voice called.
"Always," he replied with a quick wave, the corner of his mouth tugging into a smirk.
As he made his way to his first class, weaving through clusters of students, his eyes caught on someone unfamiliar—or at least, someone he didn't usually notice. A shorter boy stood near the edge of the lockers, adjusting the strap of his bag. He had sharp, angular features and striking white hair that seemed almost unnaturally bright under the fluorescent lights. His wire-rimmed glasses sat slightly crooked on his nose, and his expression was unreadable, as if he were lost in thought.
Hermes slowed for a moment, a strange feeling prickling at the back of his neck. The boy glanced up at the same time, his sharp yellow eyes locking with Hermes'. There was something... off. Something familiar, but not in a way Hermes could place.
The boy gave a small nod of acknowledgment, almost imperceptible, then turned and walked away.
Weird, Hermes thought, shaking his head as he kept moving. He didn't have time to dwell on strange feelings or cryptic looks—not with Coach breathing down his neck about their upcoming meet. Still, the sensation lingered, like a fragment of a dream he couldn't quite remember.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of classes and routine. Math was dull as ever, and Hermes spent most of it doodling strategies for the relay race in the corner of his notebook. History offered a slight reprieve, with Mr. Darrow diving into an animated lecture about ancient civilizations. Hermes couldn't help but notice Jordan trying not to nod off at the desk beside him.
By the time lunch rolled around, Hermes was more than ready for a break. He joined Jordan and a few others at their usual table near the windows, where the sunlight streamed in and made the cafeteria seem almost pleasant.
"You see that weird kid in the hall this morning?" Hermes asked casually, picking at his sandwich.
Jordan raised an eyebrow. "You're gonna have to narrow it down. Our school's full of weird kids."
"Short, white hair, glasses," Hermes clarified.
"Oh, yeah, that's Edward. He's a junior, I think. Super quiet. Never talks to anyone."
Hermes nodded but didn't respond. Something about Edward gnawed at the edge of his mind, but he pushed the thought aside. It was probably nothing. Just his imagination running wild.
…
The final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. Hermes grabbed his bag from his locker and headed for the track, shaking off the strange vibe that had clung to him since the morning. It had been a perfectly normal day, after all. No reason to overthink things.
As he stepped outside into the crisp afternoon air, he caught a glimpse of Edward standing by the bike racks, staring up at the sky. Hermes hesitated for just a second before shrugging it off and heading toward the track. Whatever Edward's deal was, it wasn't Hermes' problem.
Not yet.
…
…
Hermes jogged to the starting line, His teammates were already there, stretching and chatting, but his mind kept drifting back to Edward. The white-haired boy's presence seemed to linger in his thoughts, though he couldn't quite pinpoint why. Hermes tried to shake it off, telling himself it was just the stress of the upcoming meet messing with his head.
"Ready to crush it today?" Jordan called from the sidelines, a bottle of water in hand and a grin plastered on his face.
Hermes snapped out of his thoughts and flashed a smile. "Always. Let's see if I can break my own record today."
The wind had picked up slightly, causing the grass at the edge of the track to sway gently. Hermes stretched his legs, shaking out the last remnants of lingering fatigue from the morning. There was a kind of rhythm to the practice that always calmed him. The focus of each stride, the feeling of the wind in his face, the quick bursts of adrenaline that kept him sharp. He was used to pushing his body to its limits, but today something felt... different. Not wrong, just... off.
He lined up with the other sprinters, his muscles stretched as he took his mark. The starting pistol cracked through the air, and Hermes took off, his body moving with fluid precision. The track became a blur, the sound of his breath the only thing he could focus on as he shot forward. His legs burned, the familiar rhythm of his sprinting kicking in as he passed the halfway mark.
It was only when he reached the finish line that he realized something had changed.
He had crossed it faster than usual. Far faster. His lungs weren't burning, his legs didn't feel as heavy as they should have, and he hadn't even pushed himself that hard. His speed had increased, almost without him realizing it.
"Damn, Hermes," Jordan said, jogging up to him with wide eyes. "You were like a blur out there. What's your secret?"
Hermes shrugged, his heart still pounding, but not from exhaustion. Something was stirring inside him, something primal. His mind raced, thoughts of the weird feeling in the hall, the strange light in the sky that morning... and then, it hit him. He wasn't just faster. Something inside him had changed.
"Just feeling good today," Hermes replied with a grin, though the excitement in his voice couldn't quite hide the unease in his gut.
He knew something had shifted. But it wasn't just physical.
…
…
Later that evening, as he sat on his bed, staring out at the fading sky through the window, his thoughts refused to quiet. The strange sensation of unease continued to gnaw at him. He didn't know why, but everything felt different. The way his body moved, the way the world seemed to hum with energy. It wasn't just his speed—there was a deeper shift he couldn't explain, as if something inside him had unlocked.
As if the world itself had changed.
He turned his gaze to his phone, checking for any messages. There was nothing from Jordan, but then he saw something else—an alert about the strange cosmic event that had flashed across the news earlier in the day. A light streaking across the sky, visible from multiple locations around the world. The news anchors had dismissed it as a meteor or some other natural phenomenon, but the more Hermes thought about it, the more he began to wonder if that was just the cover story.
Before he could read more, his phone buzzed again, this time with a text from an unknown number.
"We're watching. You're not the only one."
Hermes stared at the message, confusion twisting in his stomach. His finger hovered over the screen as a chill crawled down his spine. He didn't recognize the number, and there were no other messages attached, just those cryptic words.
He leaned back against his pillow, the unease from earlier returning in full force.
Whatever was happening, whatever had changed, it was only just beginning.