The morning sun filtered through the tall windows of Aiden's small home, casting long golden beams across the wooden floor. At seven years old, he was no stranger to being awake before everyone else. Some of it was curiosity, some of it was restlessness, and some of it… he didn't fully understand.
That morning, as he helped his mother sweep the floor, the broom suddenly slipped from his hands and hovered midair, spinning gently. Aiden froze.
"Wh—what?" he whispered, blinking. The broom remained suspended, trembling slightly as if responding to his heartbeat.
His mother, busy in the kitchen, didn't notice. Relief washed over him. He hadn't wanted anyone to see—not yet. But fascination coursed through his veins. With a slow, careful movement, he reached out with his small hands. The broom rose higher, floating between his palms as if it had a mind of its own.
Aiden grinned. He had no idea how he was doing it, but it felt… right. Natural. Powerful. And terrifying.
He spent the next hour experimenting. Stones, cups, even a wooden chair—all levitated with gentle concentration. Every time, he felt a surge of energy, a hum in his chest that made his hair tingle.
"Stop playing with the dishes, Aiden!" his mother called suddenly. He froze and dropped the chair instantly. The sound of it clattering to the floor made his stomach twist. She hadn't noticed… yet.
That night, Aiden lay in bed, eyes wide in the dark. The broom incident had unlocked something inside him—a spark that refused to be ignored. His thoughts raced: Why can I do this? Am I… normal?
Days passed, and the powers grew. He discovered he could move faster than any boy his age, run across streams without touching the water, even jump higher than the rooftops. He never told anyone. Not his parents, not the neighbors, not even his friends. It felt… dangerous.
Then came the first accident.
He and his childhood friend, Mira, had wandered into the woods near their village, chasing a fox that had darted through the trees. A sudden landslide of loose rocks tumbled down a slope toward them. Mira froze, eyes wide. Aiden didn't.
Instinct took over. He lunged, catching the largest boulder with both hands and lifting it as if it weighed nothing. The rest fell harmlessly around them. Mira stared at him, her face a mixture of awe and fear.
"Aiden… how—?" she began.
He shrugged, a nervous smile tugging at his lips. "I… I don't know. I just… did it."
From that day on, Mira became the first person to suspect Aiden was no ordinary boy. She never questioned him, never pushed him—she only watched, quietly supporting him as he explored the limits of his powers in secret.
By the time he turned ten, Aiden could lift boulders with ease, run faster than any horse in the village, and sense danger long before it arrived. But with every new ability, he felt the weight of responsibility pressing down. Power was exhilarating, yes—but it was also lonely.
And somewhere deep in his dreams, he began to see visions—glimpses of worlds beyond his own, of skies torn apart and shadows that weren't from this realm.
Aiden didn't understand them yet. But he knew one thing for certain: his life, quiet and ordinary as it seemed, was about to change forever.