The first thing Eiden Kross remembered was the taste of copper and dirt.
He had been six years old, lying face down in the schoolyard as gifted kids circled him, laughing. A boy with silver hair and sharp teeth had pinned him to the ground with a foot on his back, his Gift—a glowing, whip-like tail—thrashing ominously above him.
"You're such a loser, Kross. No Gift, no point!" the boy jeered. The others laughed.
The words stung more than the blows.
Back then, Eiden had cried every time. But it didn't stop them. Nothing did.
…..
By the time he was ten, the bullying had evolved into something darker. He didn't just face ridicule at school; it followed him everywhere. On the bus home, kids would shove him into seats and mock him. Walking down the street, they'd hurl rocks, their enhanced strength leaving bruises that lingered for days. Even in the supposed sanctuary of his home, they would throw eggs at his windows, spray hateful graffiti on the walls.
The worst part was the stories. His tormentors weren't content with just hurting him—they twisted the truth, spinning tales of how Eiden had "provoked them," how they were "teaching him a lesson." The adults believed them. The world always believed the Gifted.
High school brought a glimmer of hope—and harsher consequences.
…..
One afternoon, Eiden stepped in when a group of seniors cornered a younger Ungifted boy in the locker room. The boy had been sobbing, begging them to stop, when Eiden stormed in. He knew it was foolish, but the sight of someone smaller than him suffering was unbearable.
"What's wrong, Zero? Finally decided to play hero?" one of the bullies sneered, a spark of fire dancing on his fingertips.
The fight didn't last long. It never did. By the time they were finished, Eiden was left bruised and bloody on the cold tile floor. The boy he'd tried to save had already run.
No one ever thanked him.
Then came the mall.
...
Eiden had been fifteen, tagging along with his mother on an ordinary shopping trip. The explosion happened without warning—a Gifted gangster, showing off his power in a clash with rivals, accidentally sent a shockwave that tore through the building.
The chaos was deafening. People screamed, glass shattered, and walls collapsed. Eiden remembered the way his mother's hand was ripped from his, the sound of her body being crushed beneath falling debris.
When it was over, dozens were dead, his mother among them.
The courts called it "an unfortunate accident." The gangster walked free, his high-powered lawyers spinning the narrative. Eiden's father, a quiet, broken man, fought tirelessly for justice, but the system was rigged. The Gifted always won.
Then, one day, his father disappeared.
Eiden was taken in by Evander Noctis, his father's closest friend. Evander was a professor at Aurelius University, a rare advocate for Ungifted rights. He gave Eiden a home, a semblance of stability. But the wounds of the past never healed.
...
Now, at eighteen, Eiden sat up in bed, clutching his forehead as a familiar headache throbbed behind his eyes. The images of his childhood—blood, laughter, fire—flashed in his mind. He clenched his jaw, shoving them aside.
His phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Eiden reached for it, squinting at the message from Evander:
"Orientation Starts At 9:00AM.. You'll Do Great, Eiden. Good Luck."
He stared at the screen for a long moment, the glow reflecting his tired blue eyes. His messy black hair stuck out at odd angles, a testament to a restless night.
"First day," he muttered to himself, swinging his legs off the bed.
He stood, stretching the stiffness from his body, and crossed the room to where his freshly pressed university uniform hung. Taking a deep breath, he ran his fingers over the fabric before slipping it on, piece by piece.
In the mirror, he didn't look like much. Just an ordinary guy. Ungifted. But he knew better than anyone that appearances could be deceiving.
Eiden tightened his tie, his reflection staring back at him like a challenge.
"Alright," he whispered, squaring his shoulders. "Let's get this over with."
And with that, he stepped out the door, ready to face Aurelius University—and the storm that awaited him.