Season 1: 89 — The Human Era
Chapter One: The King of a Small World
Morning came early in the city.
Not because of the sun, but because the city never really slept. Metal doors opened with loud screeches. Engines started. People shouted across streets. By the time the school bell rang, the city was already tired.
Providence woke up before his alarm.
He sat on the edge of his bed and stared at the floor.
The dream was still fresh.
Heat. Not fire. Just heat. Like something deep inside his chest was awake while the rest of him slept. He pressed his hand lightly against his chest and breathed out.
"It's nothing," he said to himself.
He stood up and got ready for school.
Outside, the streets were crowded. The school building stood like it always had — old, rough, and tired. Students filled the gates, laughing, arguing, pushing past one another.
Everything felt normal.
Until Providence walked in.
The noise didn't stop. But it changed.
Some students lowered their voices. Others moved aside without thinking. A few glanced at him quickly, then looked away. It wasn't fear exactly. It was awareness.
Providence didn't look dangerous.
He wasn't huge. He wasn't scary. He just walked calmly, like he already knew where everything belonged — including himself.
Neliek walked beside him, hands in his pockets.
"You didn't sleep well again," Neliek said.
Providence shrugged. "I slept."
"That's not the same thing."
They passed a group of boys standing near the lockers. One stiffened when Providence got close. Another took a step back.
No words were spoken.
They all knew who he was.
Bludahs.
That was the name people used. Providence never chose it. The name grew on its own. It followed him, followed the people around him.
Bludahs didn't cause trouble for fun. But when trouble came, it ended fast.
And most times, Providence was the reason.
In class, teachers taught like normal. But their eyes often moved back to Providence, just to be sure. He listened quietly. Took notes. Asked questions when something mattered.
He liked understanding things.
At lunch, the problem showed itself.
A rival group stood near the courtyard fence. Older boys. Loud boys. One of them laughed when Bludahs members passed. Another spat on the ground.
Neliek sighed. "They really want to try today."
Providence stopped walking.
The courtyard felt quieter.
He turned and looked at them.
"Move," he said.
His voice was calm. No anger. No threat.
One of the boys stepped forward anyway. Pride pushed him harder than sense.
The fight didn't last long.
Providence moved like he had done this a hundred times. He avoided the first hit. Redirected the second. Then he placed his hand against the boy's chest and pushed.
The boy flew back and hit the ground hard.
Too hard.
People stared.
Providence stepped back, adjusted his sleeves, and walked away.
By the time teachers arrived, it was already over.
Later that day, screens around the school played news clips with no sound.
Military movements. Tensions between countries. Strange machines shown only for seconds at a time. Words like test and security flashed on the screen.
Providence watched.
Something about it bothered him.
Not fear. Something else. Like the world was slowly leaning toward a line it couldn't come back from.
That night, rain fell hard.
Providence stood by his window, watching the city lights blur behind falling rain. Thunder rolled in the distance.
For a moment, his chest felt warm again.
Not painful. Not comforting.
Just present.
He pressed his hand against his chest.
The feeling faded.
He lay down and closed his eyes.
As sleep came, the heat returned.
No fire.
No images.
Just the sense that something inside him was awake.
Far above the city. Far beyond the sky. Something unseen watched quietly.
Not acting.
Not interfering.
Just watching.
The king of a small world slept on, unaware that his life had already started moving toward something much bigger.
Season 1: 89 — The Human Era
Chapter Two: When Order Trembles
The city looked calm from a distance.
Cars moved. Shops opened. People laughed and argued like always. But underneath it all, something had shifted. Like the ground was still, but pressure was building below it.
Providence felt it before anyone else did.
It started as a tight feeling in his chest while he jogged at dawn. Not pain. Just tension. Like something was pulling at him from the inside.
He slowed down and stopped near an empty street.
"Get a grip," he muttered.
Around him, Bludahs members trained quietly. Some ran. Some practiced hand combat. Others watched and learned. There were forty-nine of them in total. Different ages. Different backgrounds. One thing connected them.
Providence.
Among them were the Twelve Chiefs — fighters who led smaller units. Calm, experienced, trusted. And behind them were the Six Elders, men who rarely fought but always decided when fighting was necessary.
Neliek stood beside Providence, arms crossed.
"You've been distracted lately," Neliek said.
Providence nodded. "Something's coming."
Neliek raised an eyebrow. "That's vague."
Providence didn't reply.
Later that day, the news stopped being quiet.
Screens across the city lit up with emergency broadcasts. Borders were mentioned. Military drills. "Unusual activity." No one used the word war, but everyone felt it.
At school, classes ended early.
Students rushed home. Teachers whispered in hallways. Police vehicles passed the streets more often than usual.
Providence stood near the gate, watching.
"This isn't normal," one of the Chiefs said quietly.
"No," Providence replied. "It's planned."
That night, the Elders called a meeting.
They gathered in an abandoned warehouse Bludahs used as their base. Old lights buzzed overhead. Maps were spread across tables.
One Elder pointed at a marked region. "They tested something here last month. A machine."
"What kind of machine?" Neliek asked.
"No one knows," the Elder replied. "But the land never recovered."
Providence stared at the map.
That tight feeling returned.
Before the meeting ended, the lights flickered.
Then everything went silent.
No hum. No sound. No air.
Providence's heart skipped.
The world froze.
Then—
A voice.
Not loud. Not soft. It came from everywhere and nowhere at once.
"Too early…"
Providence fell to one knee.
No one else reacted.
No one else heard it.
The lights snapped back on. Sound returned. People looked around, confused.
Providence stood slowly, breathing hard.
Neliek grabbed his arm. "You okay?"
Providence nodded, but his hands were shaking.
That night, the dream returned.
He stood on scorched ground. The heat was stronger now. The sword was still there, buried in stone. Closer this time.
As he stepped forward, the ground cracked.
A shadow moved behind him.
Before he could turn—
He woke up.
Sirens screamed outside.
Providence ran to the window.
In the distance, the sky burned red.
Something had exploded.
Something big.
Phones rang. Messages flooded in. Reports came fast and broken.
An unknown weapon test.
A neighboring region erased.
No warning.
No explanation.
Providence clenched his fists.
The tight feeling in his chest grew stronger.
Not fear.
Recognition.
Far beyond the city, far beyond human sight, forces older than nations shifted slightly.
Order had begun to tremble.
And Providence stood at the center of it—
still human,
still unaware,
but already changing.
Season 1: 89 — The Human Era
Chapter Three: The Sky Didn't Warn Us
The sky was clear that morning.
Too clear.
No clouds. No wind. Just a wide blue stretch that made the city look peaceful. People went about their lives without hurry. Shops opened. Students walked to school. Soldiers stood at checkpoints, relaxed but alert.
Providence didn't like it.
He stood on the school rooftop, hands resting on the rail, eyes fixed on the sky.
"It's quiet," Neliek said behind him.
Providence nodded. "That's the problem."
Below them, two groups trained in the open field beside the school. Bludahs on one side. A group of girls on the other.
They weren't enemies.
They weren't allies either.
People called them The White Hands. No leader. No ranks. No symbols. Just skill, trust, and rules they all respected. They fought only when needed. They protected students, neighborhoods, and sometimes even strangers.
And at the center of them—
Ishy.
She moved fast. Calm. Sharp. Every strike was clean. Every step had purpose. She wasn't the strongest physically, but no one read fights better than her.
Providence watched without realizing it.
"She's improved again," Neliek said.
Providence didn't reply.
Ishy knocked her opponent down, then offered a hand to help her up. No pride. No show.
Their eyes met for a second.
Providence looked away first.
The air felt warm.
Not outside.
Inside him.
School ended early again.
No explanation.
No warning.
Just an order.
People didn't panic. Not yet. They trusted systems. Trusted governments. Trusted the sky to warn them if something was wrong.
They were wrong.
The explosion came in the afternoon.
No sirens.
No alarms.
Just a sudden flash far beyond the city.
Then sound followed.
The ground shook. Windows cracked. People screamed as a shockwave rolled across the land.
Providence was already moving.
Bludahs gathered without orders. Chiefs shouted commands. Elders coordinated evacuation routes.
The White Hands were there too.
Ishy ran toward Providence.
"What is that?" she asked.
"I don't know," he replied. "But we move people first."
They split into teams.
Fire spread in distant districts. Communication towers fell. Military units flooded the streets, confused and aggressive.
Above them, the sky darkened.
Not with clouds.
With smoke.
Providence helped pull people from broken buildings. Lifted debris. Held walls that should have collapsed. He didn't think about how he did it.
He just did.
At one point, a burning structure came down faster than expected.
Providence stepped forward.
The heat surged.
The building stopped.
For a second.
Just enough.
No one noticed.
Except Ishy.
She stared at him, breathing hard.
"You felt that too, right?" she asked quietly.
Providence didn't answer.
That night, the dream changed.
The heat was stronger. The surface beneath his feet burned bright gold. The sword was closer now. Almost within reach.
And for the first time—
The sun spoke.
Not in words.
In feeling.
In memory.
Providence woke up sweating.
Outside, the city burned in pockets of fire. Military drones flew overhead. News feeds spoke openly now.
War.
A foreign nation had tested a new weapon.
An energy machine.
They claimed it was an accident.
No one believed them.
Providence sat up slowly.
His chest felt like a furnace.
The sky hadn't warned them.
The world hadn't warned them.
But something inside him had.
And it was no longer quiet.
Season 1: 89 — The Human Era
Chapter Four: Lines Are Drawn
The days after the explosion felt heavier than the explosion itself.
At first, people waited.
They waited for statements. For explanations. For calm words from leaders in clean suits. None came. Only short messages. Carefully chosen words. Half-truths.
Borders were closed.
Flights were grounded.
Soldiers filled the streets.
Providence watched the city change from his window.
Checkpoints appeared overnight. Curfews were announced before people had time to argue. The city felt smaller now, tighter, like walls were slowly closing in.
Bludahs met every night.
Maps were spread out again. Chiefs reported what they saw. Elders argued quietly over routes, alliances, and survival.
"This is no longer street-level trouble," one Elder said. "This is war."
Providence stood at the center of the room, listening.
"Then we protect our people," he replied. "That's all."
Neliek nodded. "If we don't move first, someone else will move over us."
The White Hands joined the meetings soon after.
Not formally. They stood near walls. Sat on crates. Listened.
Ishy spoke only when needed.
But when she did, people listened.
"They're not targeting random places," she said one night. "There's a pattern. Power centers. Supply lines. Communication hubs."
Providence looked at her. "You're sure?"
She nodded. "I've been watching."
Something shifted in the room.
For the first time, Bludahs and the White Hands weren't just sharing space.
They were planning together.
Outside, protests turned into riots. Riots turned into clashes. Military forces struggled to keep control. Some helped civilians. Others followed orders too closely.
Providence was everywhere.
He moved through neighborhoods like a steady presence. People recognized him now. Not just students. Shop owners. Parents. Even soldiers lowered their weapons slightly when he passed.
He didn't ask for authority.
It followed him.
One evening, as smoke hung low in the air, Providence and Ishy found themselves standing guard together on a broken bridge.
"You don't act like someone who enjoys this," Ishy said.
Providence shook his head. "I don't enjoy power. I enjoy peace."
She smiled faintly. "That makes you dangerous."
He glanced at her. "Is that bad?"
"Depends who you're standing against."
The first real battle came three days later.
Enemy forces crossed into outer districts. Not soldiers alone — machines followed. Tall. Silent. Glowing faintly at their cores.
Providence felt it immediately.
The heat inside him surged.
"Everyone fall back!" he shouted.
The machines fired.
Buildings collapsed. Streets burned.
Providence ran forward anyway.
He fought with nothing special. No beams. No flames. Just speed, strength, and instinct sharpened beyond reason.
When a machine turned its weapon on civilians—
Providence stepped in front.
The blast hit him.
The world went white.
For a moment, the sun rose inside his chest.
The blast curved away.
No one saw how.
They only saw the result.
The machine fell.
Silence followed.
News spread fast.
Videos surfaced. Blurred. Shaky. But enough.
A young man standing where death should have been.
Governments noticed.
Generals watched.
Providence didn't.
He sat on the ground afterward, shaking.
Ishy knelt beside him. "You're not normal," she said softly.
Providence laughed weakly. "I was hoping you wouldn't notice."
That night, the dream came again.
The sword was within reach now.
The sun beneath his feet burned brighter.
And somewhere far above, something ancient smiled.
By morning, the lines were clear.
There was no going back.
Friends and enemies.
Protectors and destroyers.
Humanity and something more.
And Providence stood where all lines met—
not as a god,
not yet,
but no longer just human.