That night, Kael couldn't sleep. He sat on the edge of his bed, the pendant resting in his palm, pulsing faintly. It wasn't a heartbeat. It was older than that — slower, deeper, like the rhythm of something buried beneath the world.
Outside, Nuvora buzzed with synthetic life. Neon veins lit the skyline. Drones zipped between towers. The hum of data and electricity filled the air. But Kael felt none of it.
His mind was elsewhere.
He remembered the cave. The cloaked figure. The silence that taught him more than words ever could. He remembered his mother's voice — soft, urgent, fading.
"You are more than this world, Kael…"
But what did that mean?
The vending wall hadn't exploded. It had folded — collapsed inward like a dying star, leaving behind nothing but silence. And Kael had felt it. Not just the moment, but the choice. Something inside him had reached out, and the world had responded.
Now, his body hummed with something he couldn't name. Not power — not yet — but potential. Like a string pulled taut, waiting to be plucked.
He held out his hand. The air shimmered. A ripple danced across his palm, distorting the light around it.
He wasn't imagining it.
The Next Morning
School was a blur. Students whispered. Jax kept his distance. The vending wall incident had spread like wildfire — some said Kael hacked it, others claimed he summoned a black hole.
Kael didn't speak. He didn't need to.
But something was changing. His senses sharpened. He could hear the hum of the school's power grid. He could feel the magnetic pull of the Earth beneath his feet. And when he touched the classroom wall, he saw a flicker — a memory embedded in the stone.
A girl crying. A teacher yelling. A flash of light.
Kael jerked his hand back.
What was happening to him?
After school that day, Kael was summoned to the principal's office. He expected punishment. A lecture. Maybe expulsion.
Instead, he found someone else waiting.
A woman stood by the window, her back to him. She wore a long coat, silver hair braided down her back, and boots that looked like they'd walked through centuries. Her posture was relaxed, but her presence was sharp — like a blade resting on velvet.
She turned. Her eyes were molten gold.
"Kael Veyron," she said. "You've been difficult to track."
Kael blinked. "Who are you?"
"I'm Professor Nyra. I teach metaphysical theory at the Academy of the Rift."
Kael frowned. "I don't go there."
Nyra smiled — not kindly, but knowingly. "You will." She said.
Kael didn't move. He didn't speak. The room felt smaller now, like the walls were listening.
Nyra stepped forward and placed a tablet on the desk. On it, a symbol glowed — a spiral within a triangle, pulsing softly.
"This appeared on our scanners last night," she said. "It's a signature. Yours."
Kael stared. "I don't understand," he said.
"You're not supposed to," Nyra replied. "Not yet."
She sat down, crossed one leg over the other, and studied him.
"You were born during the Collapse," she said. "The destruction of the city. And you survived."
Kael's throat tightened. "My mother—"
"Was one of the last defenders," Nyra said. "She carried you through fire. Placed you in the hands of something ancient. And vanished."
Kael looked down at the pendant. It pulsed again.
"What is this?" Kael asked.
Nyra leaned forward.
"It's not a weapon. It's not a key. It's a question."
Kael frowned. "I don't understand... A question?"
Nyra nodded. "And you are the answer."
She stood and walked to the window.
"There have been seven Riftborn in recorded history," she said. "Each one changed the world. Some for better. Some for worse."
Kael's voice was barely a whisper. "And the ones who made it worse?"
She didn't turn from the window. "They didn't start out evil. None of them did. But power doesn't come without cost."
She paused, then continued, her tone heavy with memory.
"Some Riftborn were consumed by the very forces they were meant to control. The Rift twists reality—and sometimes, it twists the soul. One believed he could end war by erasing free will. Another tried to cure death, but his methods tore the veil between worlds. They thought they were saving humanity. Instead, they reshaped it into something unrecognizable."
Kael's breath caught. "So they became monsters?"
"Unfortunately, yes," She said softly.
"Why are you telling me this? " Kael asked.
Nyra turned to him.
"You are not just a student, Kael." She said "You are a Riftborn –Someone destined for greatness"
Kael was so stunned. This was the first person who had ever spoken to him about himself — not as a glitch in the system, not as a rumor, but as something real. Something he wasn't sure he was ready to face yet.
Before leaving, Nyra gave him one final instruction.
"When the glyph appears," she said, "follow it. The Rift Academy will open for you."
Kael didn't ask how. He left the office in silence, the pendant heavy against his chest.
That night, he sat at his desk, replaying every word Nyra had said. Her voice echoed in his mind, tangled with the memory of the violet-eyed girl who had whispered, "You're late."
He didn't know what was happening to him.
He only knew it had already begun.
Then — a sound behind him. Not loud. Not sharp. Just… final.
He turned.
The glyph hovered above his desk, pulsing softly. A spiral within a triangle. The same symbol from the pendant. The same one from the tablet.
Kael stood.
He reached out.
The glyph dissolved into light, wrapping around his fingers like silk. A whisper followed — not a voice, but a feeling.
Come.
It wasn't a command. It wasn't a question.
It was recognition.
The Academy wasn't calling him.
It was claiming him.
And somewhere deep inside, Kael felt the cave again — the silence, the scream, the moment he was handed to the unknown.
He wasn't ready. But the Rift didn't care.