The morning sun bled through the clouds like fire on steel, washing over the capital of Velden — a city of polished towers and invisible chains.
Children lined the marble courtyard of the Awakening Hall, their small hands trembling as they waited for their turn. Today, they would learn their destiny. Today, they would learn what kind of power they would serve the world with — or be erased by it.
"Next—Xander Valois."
A boy stepped forward, clutching a wooden toy sword so worn it barely held shape. His hair was dark silver under the light, his eyes a soft gray — calm, but uncertain. Unlike the others, Xander wasn't smiling. He had seen too many children come out of the testing chamber crying.
Inside, the hall was quiet except for the low hum of machinery. Blue lines pulsed across the floor — the same color as the government's emblem, the Hero Authority Seal.
An officer in a long coat watched him from the side, tapping on a glass tablet.
"Name," he said, bored.
"Xander Valois."
"Age?"
"Six."
"Guardian?"
"None."
The officer raised an eyebrow. "Orphan?"
"Yes, sir."
He grunted and nodded to the testing pod. "Hand on the crystal. Don't move. If it hurts, don't scream."
Xander stepped up. A large, glass sphere sat on a pedestal. Inside it, light swirled faintly, whispering like a storm in sleep.
He pressed his palm against it.
For a moment, nothing.
Then—
lightning erupted from the sphere, blue-white and blinding. It crackled through the air, climbing the ceiling, scattering the officers. The tablet screens flickered, alarms shrieked.
And just when it seemed to fade—
water spiraled up from the ground, merging with the lightning. Steam hissed, the lights burst. The air itself felt alive.
The officer shouted, "Impossible! Dual resonance?!"
Xander fell to his knees, his hand smoking. The crystal turned from blue to black, shattering under the surge.
Then everything went silent.
The director entered — a tall man with sharp eyes, dressed in the silver uniform of the Hero Corps. His presence alone silenced the room.
"What's the reading?" he asked coldly.
"Subject 1179 shows two elemental resonances: Electro and Aqua. Estimated RI off the chart—"
"Off the chart?" the director repeated. His eyes narrowed at the boy. "No child manifests two. Not since the Mutations."
The officer hesitated. "Should we… report him to Research?"
The director stared down at Xander. The boy's hand still sparked faintly with light, droplets running between his fingers like veins of liquid glass.
"No," he said at last. "Mark him. 'Unstable anomaly.' Send him to Velden Prime Academy for containment."
The officer froze. "But sir—he's only six."
"Then the system will shape him early."
Outside, Xander was led away in silence. The other children stared as he passed, whispering the word stamped in red on his new file:
ANOMALY.
That night, Xander sat alone in the dorm room he had been assigned.
He stared at his hands, small and trembling, the faint sparks fading between his fingers.
Two elements.
Everyone else had one.
And yet… he didn't feel lucky. He felt wrong.
He whispered into the dark, voice barely audible.
"…If power makes you a hero… then what am I?"
The answer came only in silence — and the distant hum of the city that turned power into law