Samuel Achodor's existence into the world was mysterious, not like most children are.
He was found.
Seventeen years ago, just before sunrise, a baby was discovered at the iron gates of St. Gabriel's Church. No mother. No father. No explanation.
Only a small name tag tied gently around his wrist.
Achodor.
That was all.
Father Michael was the one who found him. Calm, mysterious, and quietly observant, the priest never spoke much about that morning. He simply carried the child inside as if he had been expecting him.
And in a strange way… it always felt like he had.
Father Michael was loved by everyone in town. He had a steady voice, patient eyes, and a habit of giving long lectures when a simple answer would do — something Samuel found extremely annoying growing up. Yet, despite that, the priest raised him with care, discipline, and an unshakable calmness that never seemed to break.
Samuel grew up under cathedral ceilings and stained-glass light. He served at the altar. He read in the church library. He played football in the open fields behind the parish.
He was normal.
Or at least… that's what he believed.
For years, everything went smoothly. School. Friends. Laughter. Football. Nothing unusual.
Until this day.
The sun hung low behind the clouds, painting the campus football field in shades of gold and blood-red. The breeze was gentle, but something in the air felt wrong—like the calm before a storm.
Samuel stood at the edge of the pitch, tightening his bootlaces with quiet focus. His teammates were already warming up, their laughter echoing across the stands. But Samuel's eyes weren't on them—they were on the darkening sky.
It was only 4 p.m., yet the light looked like dusk. Shadows stretched longer than they should have. The world felt slightly… tilted.
"Bro, are you good?" Victor Ozioma jogged over, his black jersey clinging to his broad shoulders. His grin was easy, but his eyes studied Samuel with concern. "You look like you saw a ghost."
Samuel forced a small smile. "Maybe I did."
Victor laughed, shaking his head. "Maybe Arsenal still haunts you from last season."
Samuel chuckled, but it didn't reach his eyes.
For a week now, he'd been seeing things.
Shadows that moved when the wind didn't.
Whispers that carried his name.
A reflection in the mirror that smiled after he stopped.
He hadn't told anyone. Not even Emmanuel, his roommate, who always joked that Samuel worried too much.
The referee's whistle blew.
The match began.
And for a while, Samuel forgot.
The world melted into rhythm—boots against turf, the rush of air, the heartbeat of the game. Here, on the field, he was free. He belonged.
Midway through the second half, he made his move—sidestepping one defender, gliding past another, and firing the ball into the top corner.
The crowd erupted.
"Another goal from Achodor!" the announcer's voice boomed. "This boy is on fire!"
Samuel raised his arms, about to do his shut up and call me celebration—
Then everything stopped.
The wind.
The sound.
The motion.
The players froze mid-step. The referee's whistle hung in the air. Even the birds above were suspended like painted dots against the sky.
Samuel's breath hitched.
"What the hell…?"
A figure appeared at the center of the field.
Tall. Cloaked in black. Pale eyes glowing faintly in the silence. His presence bent the air around him, like reality itself didn't want him there.
"You're not supposed to exist," the stranger said, voice low… almost sad. "Your blood… it's wrong."
Samuel's muscles tensed. "Who are you?"
The man tilted his head.
"You'll find out soon enough."
And then he vanished—dissolving into black mist that evaporated in the wind.
A blinding flash.
Sound slammed back into existence—the crowd cheering, Victor shouting his name, Coach screaming from the sideline.
"Samuel! What are you doing just standing there?"
He blinked rapidly.
The man was gone. Everything looked normal.
Victor jogged up, panting. "There was no one there, bro. You sure you're okay?"
Samuel forced a nod. "Yeah. Just… dizzy."
But deep down, he knew it wasn't dizziness.
Something had awakened inside him—something ancient. Something im
possible.
And whatever it was…
…it had only just begun.