Chapter 28: The Quiet Growth and the Whisper of Fate
One year had passed since the birth of the miracle twins, Li Wei and Zhao Xun. The world had only grown stranger, faster, louder. But deep within the mountain-cradled quiet of Sujin Village, something powerful stirred in silence.
Around the globe, millions of people had awakened supernatural abilities—powers that seemed to defy logic, science, and belief. From the bustling cities of Japan to the deserts of Africa, people reported everything from levitation to elemental manipulation. Governments scrambled to respond. Academies for "gifted individuals" sprung up. Chaos and opportunity bloomed in equal measure.
But one detail stood out: most people only awakened one ability, sometimes two. A rare few manifested three. These were hailed as prodigies, interviewed on news channels, and recruited by major cities for security forces. Yet, Sujin watched it all quietly, as if from behind a veil.
In Sujin Village, every newborn over the past year had awakened not one, not two, but three to four distinct abilities within hours or days of birth.
Zhao Xun, now a toddler with stormy eyes and wild, tousled hair, could already run faster than any adult in the village—a blur of motion that often left adults winded and walls dented. Her strength had to be restrained with handmade training cuffs, and when she cried, small sparks of lightning flickered across the sky like a tantrum from the heavens.
Li Wei, gentle and quiet, could float effortlessly through the house, his charm ability causing birds to follow him and strangers to fall into dreamy trances. But what frightened even the bravest villagers was his ability to suggest ideas so subtly that people obeyed without realizing they had been influenced.
"He told me to give him all the cookies," one aunt had confessed, stunned. "And I just... did it. Happily. I didn't even realize what I was doing until I was washing the empty plate."
Their powers were growing faster than any child should have been capable of. Yet, they were not alone.
Over a dozen babies had been born in Sujin since that day—each awakening with three or more abilities. Earth control. Water shaping. Healing. Illusions. Light. Telekinesis. The list grew longer, more unbelievable. The village, once humble and untouched, had become a nursery of miracles.
And yet, no other adult had awakened.
The original five men who had quietly manifested abilities before the birth of the twins remained the only exceptions. Despite countless prayers, intense training, meditation, and silent pleading, not a single woman or man beyond those had awakened since.
It became an unspoken rule: don't ask why. Don't question the balance. The villagers believed it was tied to the prophecy, to the words of the old fortune teller who had vanished into dust.
Yue, now eleven, often sat beneath the old willow tree, watching her siblings train with mock toys or levitate pebbles. She could sense it in her bones—Sujin was being shaped into something more than a village. It was being prepared.
And they weren't alone.
Rumors began to spread through faint whispers on global networks. Places without names. Villages hidden in deep jungles or snowy mountains. Remote towns where newborns were emerging with strange powers at birth. Places just like Sujin.
Yue overheard it on a crackling radio one day:
"... reports of an uncharted village in the Andes where a baby manipulated fire and water within hours of being born... locals claimed the child was a gift from the sky gods..."
Another time, during a television broadcast:
"... an island near the Arctic Circle is believed to have over twenty children with awakening signs. No official confirmation, but UN officials have sent scouts..."
No names. No precise coordinates. But the implications were clear: Sujin wasn't alone.
Perhaps, they never had been.
Some of the elders began to speak in riddles, old hymns and verses passed down for centuries. Yue heard the matriarchs whisper it during evening walks:
"The gods do not choose lightly. What is born in silence, grows in power."
Villagers kept their miracles hidden. They built new wooden nurseries with thick walls. They trained their daughters harder. They encouraged the men to begin spiritual reading, meditation, and quiet discipline. Even the boys, though weaker, began to strengthen their minds—preparing for battles that may not need fists, but clarity.
Five-year prophecy or not, the villagers knew something was coming.
One foggy morning, Li Wei walked outside and pointed to the sky. Zhao Xun followed, her little fists clenched.
"Someone's coming," Li Wei whispered.
"How do you know?" Yue asked, kneeling beside him.
That night, as Yue stared at the moonlit sky, she realized something chilling.
They were no longer watching the world change.
They were part of it.
And somewhere out there, other chosen villages were awakening too.
Just as the Gods intended.