Abruptly, a light appeared, and just as suddenly, without warning, it vanished.
The place it illuminated wasn't anything special. It was just another room in the heart of a dark, terrible city, as indifferent as Gotham itself. Four walls with peeling paint, a modest bed with wrinkled sheets, and a desk where a computer rested—the only object that seemed to have any life in the monotony.
Yet that normalcy, the very thing the room's occupant so deeply enjoyed, was about to disappear.
He wasn't anything special either. Just another student at Gotham High, someone who blended in among the hundreds of tired faces that filled the school's hallways. You might even say he was less than most—his ability to stay under the radar had made him a master of social invisibility. Sometimes he wondered if anyone, aside from his teachers, would even remember his name if he stopped showing up.
He knew better than anyone that in Gotham, being invisible wasn't just a preference—it was a way of surviving. In a city where chaos was constant and monsters walked in the shadows, staying unnoticed was practically a natural law.
That day wasn't any different from the others. Routine was his refuge: come home from school, grab a quick bite, do a little exercise at home, eat dinner in front of the TV, and end the night playing on his beloved computer. That machine, assembled piece by piece with the little money he could save, was his greatest pride. His small portal to better worlds.
That night, however, something unexpected happened. By accident, he forgot to turn it off before going to bed. Though it wasn't typical, it wasn't the first time either. On other occasions, he had left the computer running all night without any consequences. But this time would be different. This time, his mistake would mark the beginning of something that would change his life forever.
The light returned, this time inside his room. A brief but intense burst that illuminated every corner of the space: the messy clothes on the chair, the stack of books in one corner, and the walls with cracks that betrayed the passage of time. But as quickly as it came, it vanished, leaving the room shrouded in darkness once again.
Then, the light returned, brighter than before, flooding the room with an electric blue glow that seemed to vibrate in the air. It was this second flash that managed to wake him. He opened his eyes halfway, squinting as he struggled to adjust to the sudden change. A feeling of unease crept over him, as though some part of him instinctively knew that this light wasn't normal.
With a muffled groan, he pushed the sheets aside and turned his head toward the desk, searching for the source of the disturbance. But by the time he did, the light was already gone, leaving only the faint blue glow of his computer screen. He frowned, muttering under his breath:
—What the hell was that…?
Despite his discomfort, he quickly dismissed the incident as a product of his imagination. It was late, he was tired, and tomorrow was Monday. Mondays were always the worst.
—Probably just a weird dream… —he whispered to himself before pulling the sheets back over his head.
For a moment, everything seemed to settle. Darkness and silence returned to the room. However, something new had appeared on the computer screen: a strange symbol he had never seen before. It was a circle, crossed by a single uppercase letter: a perfectly drawn L. The image remained still for a few seconds, until a deep, distant voice broke the silence. It came from the speakers, which he normally kept turned off.
—Welcome to the Summoner's Rift.
Those words, spoken in a voice that was both solemn and haunting, sent a chill down his spine. The screen immediately went black again. There was no trace of the symbol, no sign of the blue light. Everything looked just as it had before, but something was different. Something had changed.
Silently, something emerged from the monitor. A small sphere of bluish energy floated outward, moving with a hypnotic grace. Its glow was faint, but it was enough to illuminate its path. It glided across the room, as if searching for something, until it stopped directly above the bed where the boy was once again asleep, oblivious to what was happening.
The sphere hovered there, suspended in midair, casting its light over him. That glow revealed the tousled blonde strands of his hair, flattened against the pillow, and the calm features of his face. At first glance, he seemed like any ordinary teenager, but there was something in his expression that hinted at a strange duality. His inner world, filled with repressed thoughts and emotions, was about to be shaken in ways he could never imagine.
After a few seconds, the sphere began to move again. Slowly, it descended until it touched his chest. Then, with a soft flash, it sank into his body and vanished completely. The room was plunged back into complete darkness, as though nothing had happened. Silence reigned once more.
No one knew what was coming. No one could have prepared the world for what would happen next. Gotham had witnessed many incredible, terrifying, and supernatural events before, but nothing would ever be the same after that awakening.
Nothing.