The sun broke over the horizon in soft hues of gold and lavender, but Ethan hardly noticed. He sat at the breakfast table, staring into a cooling cup of coffee, his thoughts a storm of confusion and unease. The events of the previous night replayed in an endless loop—the dark void, the voice, the Shard now embedded in his chest.
Why me?
The question echoed louder with each passing moment, but no answers emerged. He felt like an imposter in his own life, every sound and motion of the morning routine grating against the weight of his newfound reality.
Across the table, Mia crunched her cereal, watching him with those sharp, perceptive eyes of hers. She always had a knack for reading him, something he both appreciated and dreaded.
"You're acting weird," she said finally, the spoon pausing midair. "Like, weirder than usual."
Ethan blinked, snapping back to the present. "What? No, I'm fine. Just tired."
Mia raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "You're not eating. You always eat." She gestured to his untouched plate of toast and eggs. "What's going on?"
"I just didn't sleep well," Ethan said, forcing a smile that felt as fragile as glass. "Bad dreams, that's all."
Her frown deepened, but she didn't press further. "Well, you promised to help me with my science project after school. You better not flake."
Ethan nodded absently. "I won't forget. Promise."
But as she grabbed her backpack and headed for the door, Ethan knew deep down that keeping that promise might not be so simple. His world had changed overnight, and he had no idea how to reconcile the ordinary with the extraordinary.
The hours dragged on, each one filled with a restless energy that Ethan couldn't shake. By mid-afternoon, he couldn't stay cooped up in the house any longer. Pulling on a hoodie, he headed for the park—a sprawling stretch of woods and trails on the edge of town where he often went to clear his head.
The air was crisp, carrying the earthy scent of fallen leaves and damp soil. Sunlight filtered through the canopy in scattered patches, painting the ground in shifting patterns of light and shadow. Ethan walked until the sounds of traffic and human chatter faded, leaving only the rustle of leaves and the occasional chirp of birds.
Finding a secluded clearing, he stopped and took a deep breath. Okay, he thought. Let's figure this out.
Closing his eyes, he focused on the strange energy that now pulsed within him. It felt like a second heartbeat, steady and insistent. He tried to picture it, to shape it in his mind—like a flame or a current of electricity.
At first, nothing happened. The silence pressed against him, and frustration began to creep in. Then, just as he was about to give up, a warmth spread through his chest, radiating outward. His eyes snapped open to find his hands glowing faintly, the light flickering like embers caught in the wind.
His breath caught. The glow dimmed, then flared again, as though responding to his emotions. Tentatively, he clenched his fists, and the energy seemed to tighten, focusing itself more sharply.
"This... is insane," he whispered.
Experimentation followed. He started small, testing how much control he had over the energy. He found that with enough focus, he could lift objects that should have been impossible—like a boulder nearly twice his size. Leaping across the clearing in a single bound left him breathless, exhilarated.
But it wasn't all smooth sailing. A misjudged attempt to channel the energy into a tree left it scorched, the bark blackened and smoking. And with each use, the dull ache in his chest grew sharper, as though the Shard was draining something vital from him.
By the time the sun began to dip, the clearing was a mess of overturned rocks, shattered branches, and scorched earth. Ethan stood in the center, sweat trickling down his brow, the Shard's glow dim but steady.
I can do this, he thought. I just need to—
The sound of snapping twigs cut through the air, freezing him in place. He turned slowly, his senses suddenly on high alert.
At the edge of the clearing, partially obscured by shadows, stood a figure. It was unnaturally tall, its limbs elongated and slightly too thin. The air around it seemed to shimmer, distorting its outline like a mirage.
"Ethan Ryn," the figure rasped, its voice a low, guttural echo that sent chills down his spine.
Ethan's mouth went dry. "Who—what—are you?"
The figure stepped forward, revealing a face—or lack thereof. Its head was featureless, smooth and dark like polished obsidian. "I am a seeker," it said. "The Shard does not belong to you. Surrender it, and I may let you live."
Ethan's heart pounded. "I don't even know how to give it to you," he said, taking an instinctive step back.
The seeker tilted its head, an unnervingly human gesture. "Then I shall take it by force."
The air rippled, and before Ethan could react, the seeker lunged. Time seemed to slow. The Shard flared in response, and Ethan's body moved on instinct. He leapt backward, narrowly avoiding the seeker's clawed hand as it slashed through the space he'd just occupied.
Energy surged through him, and without thinking, he thrust his hands forward. A burst of light erupted, striking the seeker square in the chest. The creature staggered but didn't fall.
"You are untrained," it hissed. "Weak. The Shard chose poorly."
Anger flared in Ethan's chest, fueled by adrenaline and fear. "Then let's see how wrong it was."
Focusing all his energy, he unleashed another blast, brighter and more focused than before. The seeker screeched, its form unraveling into dark tendrils that dissolved into the air.
When the light faded, Ethan stood alone, the clearing silent once more. His chest heaved with each breath, his hands trembling. The Shard's glow had dimmed, but its presence remained steady.
That night, back home, Ethan locked every door and window, his paranoia mounting with every passing moment. The seeker's words echoed in his mind: The Shard does not belong to you.
Sitting on the couch, he stared at his hands, now calloused and slightly scorched. "What am I supposed to do?" he whispered.
The Shard pulsed faintly, and a voice filled his mind.
"You must prepare, Ethan Ryn. The Shard's power is coveted by many. But it is not without allies. Seek the ones who will guide you."
"Allies?" he said aloud. "Who? Where do I even start?"
The voice faded, leaving him with more questions than answers. But one thing was clear: his life was no longer his own. Forces far greater than he could comprehend were moving, and he was now caught in the tide.
Looking out the window at the star-studded sky, Ethan felt a strange mix of fear and determination. The universe had chosen him for something. And whether he liked it or not, he would have to rise to the challenge.