The day had started off like any other for Sterlin. Classes passed in a haze, his mind occupied with thoughts of Leo, Christian, and the recent chaos surrounding those weird Marks. He had been trying to keep his anxiety in check—pushing down the mounting fear and telling himself that things would settle eventually. But Sterlin's fragile hold on normalcy was about to shatter.
During lunch, the overhead speakers crackled to life. The sharp interruption was accompanied by a ripple of whispers across the cafeteria. The televisions mounted in the corners of the room, usually showing muted news or promotional content for Asphalt Academy, flickered and shifted. At first, there was static, but soon a face filled every screen: a man with wild white hair, glowing white eyes, and glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. His suit was sharp, his demeanor poised, and his expression was one of both delight and mischief.
"Hello, citizens of the world." the man began, his voice smooth yet laced with an undercurrent of theatrical flair. "I am Dr. K, and today, I bring you the truth. The truth your governments have hidden from you, the truth about Imagi Marks. Yes, you've heard the rumors. Some of you may even bear these marks yourselves. And yet, your leaders have told you they are nothing more than a harmless skin disease." He laughed, shaking his head. "Harmless? Skin disease? What a quaint little lie."
The cafeteria erupted into chaos. Students scrambled to get a better look at the screens, abandoning their trays and spilling drinks. A student grabbed Sterlin by the arm, urging him toward the auditorium. "They're streaming it on the big screen! Let's go!"
Sterlin, already feeling his chest tighten, allowed himself to be pulled along with the crowd. His hands trembled as he fought the rising tide of panic. Stay calm. Breathe. Just get through it.
The auditorium was packed, the giant screen dominating the stage now filled with Dr. K's face. His image broadcast across phones, televisions, and even electric billboards in cities around the globe.
"I know what you're thinking." Dr. K continued, gesturing grandly. "'Who is this eccentric genius hacking every major broadcast system in the world?' Well, I'm Dr. K—scientist, inventor, truth-seeker—and today, I am your liberator. You deserve to know the reality behind these marks appearing on your children, your friends, your neighbors."
Dr. K's tone shifted, becoming more serious. "Imagi Marks are not a disease. They are contracts. They are living entities, drawn to you based on your deepest desires, fears, or dreams. And when they activate, they grant you powers unlike anything this world has ever seen. Let me explain the types..."
The screen transitioned to detailed visuals—animated representations of the different
"Ah, the chaotic tricksters. These marks interpret your wishes in the cruelest, most ironic ways. A boy who wished to never feel cold again ended up permanently encased in ice. Be careful what you wish for, especially if you bear the mark of an animal's paw."
"Dreamers, artists, thinkers—you are the lucky ones. Your marks craft powers based on your imagination, often with rules or conditions attached. A boy who loved mazes found himself able to create labyrinths out of thin air."
"These are the wild cards—powers born of your most abstract thoughts. A girl obsessed with the concept of 'time slipping away' gained the ability to manipulate the flow of time itself."
"Straightforward and common, these marks grant powers tied to simple wishes—speed, strength, flight. But don't underestimate them; even the simplest mark can change the world."
"Rare and magnificent, these marks amplify their bearers' physical abilities before their powers even manifest. Bearers of these marks, which appear only on the face, often rise to prominence."
"And here, my dear viewers, is the pinnacle of Imagi Marks. The rulers, the kings, the apex predators. Only seven exist at any given time, and they are unparalleled in their power. A single wish from a Dragon Mark can reshape reality."
Dr. K leaned closer to the camera, his glowing eyes piercing. "These marks are not random. They are drawn to the essence of who you are. They are contracts—a bond between you and the mysterious entities from which they originate. The question is not 'what are these marks?' but 'what do they want?'"
Sterlin's breathing became shallow as Dr. K's words washed over him. His mind raced: Leo has a mark. Christian had one too. Now there are more—so many more. This isn't some random freak event; this is bigger than anything we've ever faced. His vision blurred as the crowd's murmurs turned into a deafening roar.
He bolted from the auditorium, ignoring the concerned calls of his classmates. His feet carried him home almost instinctively, and before he knew it, he was standing in the doorway of his father's study. Malcolm Senior sat at his desk, his fingers flying across a typewriter as he worked on his latest novel.
"Dad..." Sterlin began, his voice shaking. Malcolm didn't look up, but his hands stilled briefly before continuing to type.
"Take a breath, Sterlin." Malcolm said calmly, his eyes remaining on the paper. "What's got you wound up this time?"
"It's—" Sterlin's voice cracked. "It's everywhere. These marks—Imagi Marks. That guy—Dr. K—he said they're alive, that they're contracts. Christian had one. Leo has one. What if—what if I—" His words tumbled out in a torrent, his chest tightening with every syllable.
Malcolm finally stopped typing, his gaze shifting to Sterlin with a calm but firm intensity. "Look at me. Breathe in. Hold it. Now out."
Sterlin obeyed, the rhythmic instructions grounding him. He focused on his father's voice, the panic slowly giving way to clarity.
"Better?" Malcolm asked, leaning back in his chair.
Sterlin nodded weakly. "A little."
Malcolm's expression softened. "Good. Now listen, Sterlin. This world is changing faster than any of us can predict. But you can't let fear control you. You're stronger than you think, and you've got me, Stella, and Malcolm Junior in your corner."
Sterlin looked at his father, his heart still heavy but his breathing steady. "But what if I get one of these marks? What if it... changes me?"
Malcolm smiled faintly. "Then we deal with it together. Whatever happens, you're not alone."
The words settled over Sterlin like a blanket, providing a fragile but much-needed sense of security. As Malcolm turned back to his typewriter, his fingers poised to continue, he paused and added, "And Sterlin... no matter what Dr. K says, remember this: no mark, no power, can define who you are. Only you can do that."
For the first time that day, Sterlin managed a small, genuine smile. "Thanks, Dad."
Malcolm gave a nod, resuming his typing. Sterlin lingered for a moment longer, the sound of the typewriter keys oddly comforting. The world outside was chaos, but here, in this room, he felt a little more in control.