The night was unnaturally quiet.
The hum of the city outside the window — the distant engines, the passing sirens — felt muted, swallowed by the low electric buzz that filled the walls of the small apartment.
Alaric stood frozen in the doorway, soaked in rain, his hoodie clinging to his skin. Every droplet that touched him fizzled faintly, releasing a whisper of blue light before vanishing into steam. His chest rose and fell rapidly; his eyes were hollow, haunted.
He had walked all the way home from the city mall, stumbling through alleys and empty streets, every step echoing with the same thought — Shepherd is gone.
Or as the news said — Dr. Elias Krane missing after lab explosion.
The words refused to leave his mind.
He shut the door quietly behind him, his trembling hand leaving a faint burn mark on the handle. His breath came out shaky, uneven, as a flicker of current crawled up his wrist and danced across his knuckles.
"Mom…?" his voice cracked, barely a whisper.
From the other room came the faint clink of a spoon hitting a cup. His mother appeared in the dim light of the kitchen doorway, her expression shifting from weariness to disbelief. The cup she was holding fell, shattering into pieces as she ran forward.
"Alaric—!" She threw her arms around him, gripping him tightly as if afraid he'd vanish again. "Where were you!? I— I thought—" Her voice broke before she could finish.
Alaric didn't know how to respond. He just stood there, stiff, eyes unfocused, the faint electric hum growing louder in the silence.
"I'm okay," he murmured finally, his voice dull, detached. "Just tired."
His mother pulled back slightly, eyes scanning his face. "You… look pale. What happened? Why are your clothes—" she stopped mid-sentence as her gaze caught a brief flicker of light beneath his sleeve.
Alaric quickly pulled his arm back, shoving his hands into his pockets. "It's nothing. Just static or something."
She wanted to ask more, but exhaustion — and fear — silenced her. Instead, she nodded slowly, stepping back toward the table.
The apartment was small but warm. The smell of half-cooked soup lingered in the air, the television still flickering with silent images from the local news channel. Alaric's eyes drifted toward it — a grainy replay of the Aurion Industries explosion looping over and over again.
Massive lab explosion under investigation. No casualties reported. CEO Dr. Elias Krane presumed missing.
He watched the footage in silence — the way the flames twisted, the flash of light just before the camera cut off. The hum under his skin intensified.
"Mom," he said softly, "you ever feel like something's wrong with you? Like your body's… not yours anymore?"
His mother froze. "What do you mean?"
He hesitated, searching for words. "It's like… I can feel everything. The air, the current in the walls, even—" he stopped, closing his fist tightly. A faint crackle of blue light escaped between his fingers. "—even this."
The sound made his mother's breath hitch. She stepped back slightly, eyes widening, but not in fear — in disbelief. "Alaric…"
He didn't meet her eyes. He walked past her and sat down on the couch, staring blankly at his hands. "I thought I died," he muttered. "When the chamber exploded… I thought I was gone. But I woke up outside the city."
"The chamber?" she repeated, her tone tightening.
Alaric blinked, realizing what he'd just said. "It's… complicated."
She didn't press. She simply stood there, silently trembling, one hand gripping the edge of the table to steady herself. Her gaze wandered — and then it fell on the half-faded photograph she had been holding earlier.
It was a picture of a man — dark-haired, confident eyes, a faint smirk — with a younger Alaric sitting on his shoulders, both laughing under a bright sky. Her thumb traced the edge of the frame gently, almost unconsciously.
Alaric noticed. "Who's that again?" he asked, voice soft.
His mother looked at him for a long moment before answering, "Your father."
Something about that word made the hum inside Alaric's body skip a beat. "I don't… remember him."
"I know," she said quietly. "You were too young."
He looked at the photo again. For a second — just a heartbeat — he thought he saw movement in the man's eyes, a flicker of something familiar. His pulse quickened.
The television in the background shifted to an image of Dr. Elias Krane — his face half-obscured by smoke, his name flashing across the banner.
Aurion Industries vows to continue investigation into their CEO's disappearance.
The hum under Alaric's skin surged violently. The lights flickered once, twice — and then the entire apartment went dark.
His mother gasped softly. "The power—?"
Before she could finish, the air shimmered faintly. Blue-white sparks danced along the walls, tracing invisible veins across the plaster. The rain outside crackled when it hit the window, as if each droplet met an invisible charge.
Alaric looked down at his hands — glowing faintly now, veins illuminated by electricity pulsing beneath the skin. His reflection in the dark window stared back at him, alien and terrified.
"Alaric…" his mother whispered, unsure if she should step closer or back away.
"I didn't ask for this," he said, voice breaking. "I just wanted to help… I just wanted to be something."
For a long moment, neither spoke. Only the low hum of power filled the room.
Then, slowly, the electricity subsided, fading like a storm passing over. The lights flickered back on, the glow under his skin dimming. Alaric slumped forward, exhausted, sweat dripping from his brow.
His mother knelt beside him, her trembling hand resting gently on his shoulder. "We'll figure this out," she whispered. "Whatever this is… we'll face it together."
He nodded weakly, though part of him didn't believe it. Deep down, he felt it — something inside him had changed forever.
As his mother turned to clean the broken cup on the floor, Alaric's eyes drifted once more to the old photo. The man's smile — sharp, confident, eerily familiar — lingered in his thoughts.
He couldn't explain why… but every time he looked at that face, the electricity beneath his skin pulsed stronger.
And far away, in the ruins of Aurion's research facility, beneath layers of concrete and smoke — something stirred.
A faint, rhythmic pulse.
A heartbeat.