Chase woke to a pale dawn filtering through the grimy orphanage window. The rain had stopped, leaving the air heavy and damp. He sat up slowly, a strange stiffness in his limbs. As he ran a hand through his hair, he froze.It wasn't the mousy brown he remembered. Instead, a shock of pure white hair fell across his forehead, catching the weak sunlight like spun moonlight. He scrambled out of bed and stumbled towards the cracked mirror hanging on the wall.His reflection stared back, unfamiliar and unsettling. The white hair was striking, almost ethereal. But it was his eyes that truly captivated him. They were no longer the stormy sea-grey he knew. Now, they blazed with a startling, almost unnatural, gold.He gasped, touching his face tentatively. This wasn't just a bad dream. This was real. The change was profound, unsettling. He looked like a different person entirely.Panic clawed at his throat. What was happening to him? Was he sick? Cursed? He glanced around the room, hoping the other children were still asleep. He didn't want to draw attention to himself, not yet.He dressed quickly in the worn clothes provided by the orphanage. The fabric felt rough against his skin, a stark contrast to the strange, almost otherworldly feeling that permeated him. As he headed down to the mess hall for breakfast, he tried to keep his head down, hoping to avoid the scrutinizing gazes of the other children and the stern matron.The orphanage was a bleak place, a haven of sorts for unwanted children. The food was bland, the discipline harsh, and affection was a rare commodity. Chase had learned to blend in, to be invisible. But now, with his startling new appearance, that was impossible.As he entered the mess hall, a hush fell over the room. All eyes turned to him. He could feel their stares, heavy and curious. Whispers rippled through the room."Look at his hair!""What happened to his eyes?"Matron Agnes, a woman with a face like granite and a voice to match, fixed him with a disapproving glare. "Chase! What is the meaning of this? Have you been playing with dyes?"He swallowed hard, his throat dry. "No, Matron. I… I don't know."She narrowed her eyes, clearly unconvinced. "Well, whatever you've done, it's unacceptable. Clean yourself up immediately."He knew there was no point in arguing. He just nodded and took his place in the line for breakfast, the weight of everyone's gaze pressing down on him.As he ate his tasteless porridge, the echoes of the previous night returned, stronger now, clearer. The blinding light, the thunderous voice, the feeling of annihilation. And now, this… this transformation.He was Chase, the orphan. But he was also something else, something more. And he had a feeling that whatever that something was, it was about to change his life forever. The golden eyes and white hair were just the beginning. The echoes of his past were growing louder, and he knew, deep down, that he couldn't ignore them any longer. He had to find out what they meant, even if it meant uncovering a truth that could shatter everything he thought he knew.