December 2010 — Christmas, Cold and Glory
Snow began to fall more steadily over Chicago. Each flake that touched the ground seemed to seal the year that was ending. Christmas lights blinked in the windows of houses, accompanied by modest wreaths and the scent of pine drifting from fireplaces.
But not all lights came from Christmas.
In the city center, a skyscraper was collapsing. Not due to structural failure. But from an attack.
No one knew where it came from. A bio-physical monster with six arms, covered in osmium plates and pulsating muscle fibers — now climbing buildings like a giant insect, making sounds somewhere between roars and scrambled radio whispers.
Evacuation had begun... far too late.
The snow couldn't reach the ground.
Each flake was consumed by the heat of explosions and the shockwaves rattling windows. The avenue between North Wabash and Monroe Street was sealed off, but chaos rose into the skies.
On the 34th floor of a corporate building belonging to Goldtree Financial, the grotesque creature pierced structural pillars with its extra limbs — four secondary arms, two of them covered in bone plates that sliced steel like paper. Its skin was gray-black, lined with mechanical connectors and muscles that pulsed as if alive.
War Woman descended from another building, hammer spinning, her landing cracking the asphalt. She barely had time to breathe — the creature spotted her and hurled one of the torn-out pillars like a spear. She dodged it by inches, the air ripping violently in its wake.
"This thing didn't come to talk..." she muttered.
Above, Red Rush zigzagged through broken floors, trying to evacuate civilians at top speed. A woman fell from a window — he caught her midair and returned her to the rooftop, but when he turned back, he saw the creature strike a police helicopter with a chunk of the building.
The rotor lost balance. The chopper spun.
Before it hit the ground, Green Ghost phased through the fuselage in spectral form, reducing the impact by shifting densities across her molecular body. Even so, the crash was hard. She floated out, coughing.
"We need reinforcements!" she shouted into the internal comms.
On the ground, Aquarius — outside his habitat — summoned a water bubble from city hydrants to try to restrain the creature. But its mass was enormous — even surrounded, it roared like a broken modem, a distorted, almost digital sound.
Black Samson, wearing a heavy exosuit, fired gravitational energy pulses to limit the monster's movement. But his cooling system was already failing — 65% and rising.
"This thing's not from Earth! Not even a common dimensional threat..." he yelled. "It's a biological construct! It doesn't feel pain!"
War Woman leaped again, aiming a direct blow to the creature's ribcage. She shattered part of its exposed ribs — but a moment later, one of its extra limbs grabbed her by the ankle and hurled her into the building's side. She crashed through the wall of the 31st floor, tumbling into a wrecked conference room.
Red Rush tried to blind it with high-speed zigzags, creating miniature tempests with his movement. The creature staggered for two seconds. That was all.
From the middle of the street, Black Samson heard glass shattering. He looked up.
The monster had leapt up four stories in a single bound.
34th... 35th... 36th...
37th.
That's when the air... changed.
Not the sound. The air itself.
It swirled in a spiral, particles vibrating like they recognized the approach of something familiar to the world.
OMNI-MAN.
He arrived like a meteor of fury. A red and white silhouette ripping through the sky like a silent scream.
The impact was total.
The building trembled. The 37th floor became a crater. Windows in nearby towers shattered in shockwaves. Sirens shrieked with delay. The ground felt the impact two seconds later, like an inverted echo.
The creature was crushed into the concrete. Literally. Its chest cavity collapsed. One of its bio-metal arms flew off.
Omni-Man held the monster by its shattered jaw. With both hands.
"You don't belong on this planet," he said with an almost bored tone. "And I protect this planet."
The creature tried to react. One arm still functioning lunged at him.
Omni-Man moved two inches to the side.
He grabbed the arm. And ripped it off.
War Woman, still catching her breath on the floor below, watched through a shattered piece of ceiling. Her expression was one of relief.
"Finally..." she whispered.
On the ground, Red Rush stopped running. Aquarius pulled back.
Black Samson just muttered:
"He's here."
Omni-Man threw the creature's body off the building like it was a stone. It crashed through three scaffolds before landing in an empty cargo truck. The structure trembled... and went still.
Omni-Man landed seconds later. Reporters began to arrive. Cameras lit up. Questions shot like bullets:
"Omni-Man! Have you identified the creature's origin?"
"Were there any Guardian failures?"
"Do you believe this was a foreign powers test?"
He simply replied:
"No one died. Everyone's safe. That's enough."
Then he flew off. Straight. No explanations.
The next morning, every headline had decided:
OMNI-MAN SAVES CHICAGO ON CHRISTMAS NIGHT — EARTH'S STRONGEST HERO
Cameras captured everything.
The news headlines read:
"Omni-Man saves hundreds in surprise attack — The World's Hero."
At the Grayson household, during Christmas dinner, the inevitable subject came up. Debbie turned off the TV after what felt like the thousandth replay of the broadcast.
Mark looked at his father the way a kid might look at Santa Claus slaying dragons.
"This was awesome, Dad! Everyone was trying to stop that thing, and then you showed up and—BLAM! You grabbed it by the leg, threw it across the street, landed on top of it, and finished it off!" said Mark, animatedly reenacting the entire scene.
"You saw it... when I threw the creature, it didn't stand a chance," Nolan said, trying to sound enthusiastic, keeping up with his son.
Debbie placed one hand on the table and the other on her hip.
"How about you two fight the imaginary alien after dinner?" said Debbie with a restrained smile. "You could've gotten hurt," she added, in her usual concerned tone.
"It was nothing," Nolan replied, with a contained smile. "Just another Wednesday."
"I'll admit... that was cool. You saved a lot of people," said Kai, with his usual calm, almost bored tone.
Debbie quickly turned to him.
"You too now? The quiet son gave in to the chaos?" she said, placing a hand on her forehead, feigning drama.
Everyone laughed.
Nolan smiled at his sons.
"The important thing is that no one got hurt."
And Kai, even with the memory of the Rock Cliff incident, and the way Nolan had been acting over the past few months, couldn't help but start to wonder:
What if… he really changed?
Living here, meeting Cosmic, having Debbie… and being Mark's brother — it changed how I saw things. Maybe the same is true for him too.
That's how Christmas passed...
With less tension among the Graysons.
Street Kid
December 26th, 2010 – Outskirts of Milford Heights – 2:46 PM
The outskirts of Milford Heights weren't the easiest place to grow up. Rex knew that all too well. He sprinted through the crowded streets, his steps quick and quiet, sliding over the hoods of parked cars like a feline. His long, brown hair flew in the wind as he melted into the crowd — always moving, always running. The constant smell of instant noodles lingered in the air.
The neighborhood market was packed with cheap goods and low-cost food. To Rex, that was a blessing.
He never felt ashamed of stealing. Life in the slums didn't offer many options, and he'd learned how to survive with whatever he could get his hands on. Still, deep down, he knew something about his behavior wasn't right — but necessity always spoke louder. In the end, survival always won.
Holding a few stolen noodle cups, Rex darted into an alleyway, thinking he'd finally lost the store's security guards — and anyone else who might've followed him. He stopped for a moment, letting his breath steady, listening to the street sounds nearby. The alley was quiet, but that feeling of being followed never left him.
As he took one more step, a metallic sphere rolled in front of him — launched directly toward him. Before he could react, the sphere exploded in a blinding flash, stunning him. It didn't injure him directly, but it knocked him down, sending the noodles flying around him. Rex tried to get up, but he was dizzy, his ears ringing from the blast.
Heavy footsteps approached. Rex stood slowly, trying to understand what had just happened. A man emerged from the smoke — dressed in a dark suit and black overcoat. Calm. Unbothered by the chaos.
"Tsk, tsk, young man. You should know better than to run from government agents," the man said with a calm tone, as if disapproving of a common mistake.
Rex looked at him, frustrated and impatient, slowly raising his hands in surrender.
"Okay, just don't hit me with another one of those space weapons," he muttered, trying to keep his cool, but clearly annoyed.
The man didn't respond right away. He simply observed Rex with a piercing gaze before offering a faint smile.
"I'm not here to arrest you, kid. I just want to ask you one question."
Rex, now more curious than fearful, stood up straight and glared at the man with suspicion.
"You do know stealing is wrong, right?" the man asked.
Rex sighed, glancing at the scattered noodle cups around him as he stood. His voice was sharp with bitterness.
"I know it's not as wrong as watching my mom starve at home. I have to steal if I want to survive."
The man frowned, stepping closer, more serious now.
"And how do you think your parents would feel knowing you're stealing dinner?"
Rex's voice flared with anger.
"Who do you think told me to steal, genius?"
The man let out a low chuckle, as if amused, before watching Rex take off running again, disappearing back into the crowd.
A few minutes later, Rex was back home — a crumbling house on the fringes of Milford Heights. The place looked nearly abandoned, with mold-stained walls and broken furniture. He slipped inside quickly, knowing his parents would be there, waiting for whatever food he managed to bring.
Rex's father, seated at the table, gave him a tired smile — though there was a hint of disappointment in it.
"Rex, son, I know those noodles are light and easy to grab, but couldn't you get something better next time? It's Christmas, right? We could use something special."
Rex dropped the noodle cups on the counter and sat down quietly, trying not to make a scene. As they began to eat, a knock interrupted them.
His father grumbled and stood up to answer the door. When he opened it, he saw the man from earlier. Tall, dark-skinned, completely bald, with a scar that ran from his forehead to his chin. Same dark suit. Same black overcoat.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Sloan," the man greeted politely, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.
Inside, he greeted Mrs. Sloan and looked over at Rex.
"Nice to see you again, Rex."
After a pause, he sat down, gesturing to the old sofa for the others to join him.
"My name is Radcliffe. I work for the government. But before we get to business... I brought a gift."
Radcliffe pulled out several ready-made meals — meat, vegetables, real food. Rex's father smiled, genuinely impressed.
"Meat! Finally!" he said, nearly salivating.
With a calm expression, Radcliffe opened a briefcase full of money and placed it on the table.
"And in the Christmas spirit, I brought something more. A generous offer. Enough to buy more meat than you could eat in a lifetime."
Rex's father looked at the money, then back at Radcliffe.
"More meat than I could eat?"
Radcliffe met Rex's eyes.
"I know this isn't the life you wanted, Mr. Sloan. But you have a chance to leave this place — this miserable life — like it never happened."
Sloan chewed loudly, then replied, voice slightly annoyed.
"Okay, Mr. Radcliffe, but what do you want? I can't think of anything I have that you'd be interested in."
Radcliffe turned toward Rex.
"Mr. Sloan, I assure you... you do."
Sloan looked at his son, then back at Radcliffe.
"The boy? That's it?" he said, suddenly enthusiastic.
He stood up and shook Radcliffe's hand with a grin.
"Deal!"
Radcliffe smiled back. The offer had been made. And Rex — still confused — felt something shift deep inside. He'd just been sold by his own father.
Later that day, without ceremony, Radcliffe left the Sloan household with Rex in tow.
The sun was setting as Radcliffe's black SUV glided through Chicago's quiet streets. Rex sat silently, watching the city lights blur past. The engine hummed softly, and he tried to process everything that had happened.
He'd been taken from his home — from the only life he'd known — and was now being driven somewhere unfamiliar.
Radcliffe didn't speak. His eyes stayed fixed on the road, only breaking the silence when navigating busy intersections. He was so calm, so composed, that Rex didn't know whether to fear him or be grateful. But something was happening. Something that would change everything.
When they finally arrived, the SUV stopped in front of a mansion. The tall gate opened automatically. The house looked like something from a fairy tale — massive glass walls, perfect landscaping. Nothing seemed wrong. But Rex couldn't shake the feeling that he didn't belong here.
Radcliffe stepped out and gestured for Rex to follow.
They walked through the main entrance, revealing even more grandeur. Inside, the place was full of advanced technology — part home, part research lab. Behind imposing doors, the lab was packed with cutting-edge machines and scientific stations.
"This is where I work," said Radcliffe calmly, opening a door to what looked like a small apartment. "And this will be your new room."
Rex walked in, stunned. The room was larger than his old house. A massive bed. A plush couch. A flat-screen TV. A stocked fridge. A computer. It felt more like a home than a bedroom.
"Here, you'll begin your training. You'll learn a lot, Rex. And believe me — you're going to be very important to us," Radcliffe said, as if this was all completely ordinary. "But remember... you're just the beginning of something bigger."
Rex sat on the bed, feeling a strange void inside. Surprise? Fear? Anger? Maybe all of them. But deep down, he knew something was changing.
Something he would never be able to undo.
The next day, Rex woke up early. The sun barely peeked through the massive windows when someone knocked on the door.
Radcliffe entered, serious as ever.
"Come with me. Today we start your training."
They moved to another floor, entering a room where three people in white protective suits and gas masks were waiting. One held a small metal box.
Inside were syringes and vials filled with colored liquids. Rex eyed Radcliffe nervously.
"What's this?" he asked, visibly uncomfortable.
"These will enhance your physical abilities. Your body will adapt. I know it's unsettling... but trust me. It'll be worth it," Radcliffe replied, clinical and firm.
Rex hesitated. But deep down, he knew he had no real choice. Escape felt impossible.
So began his training.
Each injection made him feel stronger — but there was pain too. A strange pain. The effects were almost immediate. His reflexes sharpened. His agility grew.
After just four days, his performance in physical tasks was already improving.
"You're doing well, Rex. The results are showing," Radcliffe noted, watching as Rex lifted weights and completed intense exercises.
As he trained, Rex's gaze would sometimes drift. He thought of his past — of the harsh, simple life he came from.
But he knew.
I had no other choice. I had to do this... to survive.
Cold Night Between StrangersNew Year's Eve, December 31, 2010 — 11:48 PM
It was almost silent at that hour. The fireworks hadn't started yet, but the tension hung in the air like static electricity.
Kai walked alone.
Not because he wanted to escape the new year, but because he didn't feel like he belonged to it. The colorful lights, the smiling people... it all felt too rehearsed.
That's when he saw her.
In the nearly empty park, she sat on a stone ledge, gloved hands holding a softly glowing pink cane — like a magical, sad toy spinning faintly in her grasp.
She didn't see him approach.
"You saved the kid on the bike after making energy flowers last time. Tonight the glowing cane is just symbolic?" he asked casually.
Eve — still anonymous to him, and he to her — turned in surprise, then gave a small laugh. The light spun lazily at the tip of her cane, as if she wasn't quite sure what it meant either. Eve looked down at the pink glow, which flickered without certainty.
"It's just... a way not to explode anyone," she said.
"Honest method. I think every time I see you, you've got that lost puppy look again."
She didn't answer right away. Then she sighed, eyes fixed on the distant lights of the city.
"Sometimes I wonder if... I can even do this. Be a hero. Help people, you know?"
Kai sat down on the bench beside her, not looking directly at her.
"I think everyone worth something asks that question. The others... they just blow stuff up for fun."
She smiled and glanced at him like she was trying to really see him for the first time. There was something in his voice — not just maturity. Something older. Worn.
"You saw my powers last time. You weren't scared... or weirded out?" Eve asked softly, shyly, eyes turning away.
"This world's strange on its own. I've got my share of weird too. Seeing you reflect on it — I think that makes you the least strange person around here."
She smiled again, but stayed quiet.
"I saw you help that kid on the bike that day. You've got the instinct. At least for saving cyclists."
That made her laugh.
Off in the distance, the first firework cracked the sky. It cut through their conversation, pulling attention upward. They didn't move. The world spun outside... but on that ledge, time folded in on itself.
As the colors exploded above them, Kai tilted his head.
"Thanks..." she murmured.
Then they just sat there. The two of them. Strangers. Alive. Lost. But present.
When the fireworks finally ended, Kai stood, hands in his pockets, and began to walk in the opposite direction.
As he left, Eve turned her head slightly.
"What's your name?"
Kai turned his face just enough for her to see him through the corner of his eye. And as he answered, another wave of fireworks erupted in the sky.
"My name's Kai," he said — completely drowned out by the thunder of the explosions.
"What?" she called out from behind.
Kai didn't bother to go back. He just raised one hand from his pocket and waved with three fingers, walking away.
In the reflection of the sky lit by the final bursts of the new year, Kai thought:
Maybe there are more variables in this world than I imagined...
Without him fully understanding why, something about her seemed to pull at the void within him.
Maybe it was the pink power... Or perhaps it was the way she eagerly wanted to save the world.
Back to School
January 2011 — First Day of Class
The bell rang with its usual metallic tone, echoing down the long hallway. It was the same bell that marked the start of every week at Millfort High School in Chicago, but something felt off that morning — like the world had woken up with a slight hangover from the previous year.
The halls smelled of fresh wax on the floors, a mix of reheated teacher's lounge coffee, and sugary perfume from celebrity-themed backpacks.
Kai walked beside Mark, like always. But inside, everything felt different.
"You think the new teacher will be nice? 'Cause if she's anything like Lorraine, I'm faking a coma till June," Mark said, balancing his pencil case on his arm like a tray.
"Do that and let me know. I'll record it. Might be the highlight of the semester," Kai muttered, hands in his pockets.
Mark laughed. A genuine laugh. Like this year had no chance of going wrong.
Classroom — 8:02 AM
The new teacher's name was Mrs. Danvers. She wasn't particularly friendly, but she also didn't seem like the type to pick on a kid just for existing. Dressed modestly, with glasses hanging from a colorful chain, she finished roll call and started listing the year's guidelines.
Kai didn't bother writing anything down. He already knew what came next. He'd heard this speech before — maybe in another life, maybe in the margins of every beginning he'd ever lived.
In the back of the room, Derick quietly sketched in the corner of his planner. Complex lines, focused eyes — like his mind was always somewhere else.
Becky, to the left row, fixed her hair every two minutes and looked at Mark whenever she could without being obvious. She wore a new bracelet. Flashy, oversized — clearly meant to draw attention.
July, two seats behind, made no effort to hide it. Her cheek rested on her palm, eyes fixed on Mark like the rest of the universe didn't matter.
Mark, of course… was busy drawing a dragon fighting a spaceship on notebook paper.
Simple. Harmless. That was him — unfiltered intensity.
Kai watched everything. And logged it mentally like the invisible narrator of the class.
Becky tries to look casual. July overdoes it. Mark doesn't notice anything. Derick hides in silence. And me... I'm here. Again.
Break — Sunlit Courtyard, 10:20 AM
The outdoor tables were clean, and the morning chill still clung to the shadows. Kai sat at the farthest bench, with Derick beside him. Neither spoke for a while.
Then Derick asked, without looking up:
"You think if we became adults overnight, things would make more sense?"
Kai thought for a few seconds.
"No. But maybe we'd at least know which questions are dumb enough not to ask."
Derick smirked slightly. He went back to his sketch — now it looked like a bridge breaking in half.
Across the courtyard, Becky and July were whisper-arguing. Becky gestured. July crossed her arms. Mark arrived with a tray, oblivious to the tension, and sat between them.
Kai activated the Six Eyes for a brief moment. Small movement. Unnoticeable. The particles around them vibrated differently.
He saw the exact moment July was about to stand and storm off — and how Becky gently grabbed her arm to stop her.
The tone changed. Kai could see it — the subtle effort of a friendship trying not to break.
He deactivated the eyes. Took a breath. Leaned back, hands behind him, face turned toward the sky.
Ugh... social interactions. More predictable and exhausting the older these kids get. Both want Mark's attention, and Mark? Emotional awareness of a doorknob.
After Break — Returning a Book
Kai returned a forgotten book to Mrs. Danvers' desk. She looked at him, studying him with vague curiosity.
"You're Mark's twin brother, right?"
"Unfortunately, I can't deny it."
She smiled.
"You two are… very different."
Kai tilted his head, testing her tone.
"Is that a good thing?"
"It's… intriguing. You look almost identical, but you speak like someone who's lived longer."
"Or someone who watches too much."
"Maybe both."
He gave a slight nod and left. She stood staring at the door a few seconds longer before turning back to the board.
End of the Day — School Exit
The four friends left together: Mark, Becky, July, and Derick.
Kai trailed a bit behind. Watching their interactions. Becky leaning on Mark's shoulder when she laughed. July fake-pushing him toward the sidewalk. Derick making dry jokes only noticeable to those paying attention.
Kai, in his quiet distance, thought:
They believe this year will be different. Maybe they're right. Or maybe... it's just another cycle.
But then, Mark turned around.
"Kai! Come on! We're hitting the ice cream shop!"
Becky looked back and waved. July too.
Kai… hesitated.
Then followed.
"Alright, alright… I'm coming."
Because sometimes… pretending the world makes sense is what keeps you standing.
And on that January afternoon, the world felt — once again — tolerable.
Landings, Refinement, and Voids
Dawn of January 22, 2011 — Clear sky, cutting cold
The stars were especially visible that night. Far from the city lights, the darkness felt more honest — unmasked. Kai hovered with his arms crossed, floating above an abandoned canyon hundreds of kilometers from Chicago.
Cosmic floated beside him, hands behind his back, observing with gentle — yet watchful — eyes.
Below them, the dry, jagged rocks formed a kind of natural arena.
"You're lighter in the air," he said.
"I'm flying, not levitating," Kai replied, spinning on his own axis. "Finally got the hang of Viltrumite aerodynamics... only took me six months to figure it out."
Cosmic smiled.
"Your control is good… still needs polish."
Kai closed his eyes for a moment and ascended until he became a dot in the sky. Then, he dove back down at high speed. The air split around him, and as he approached the ground, he attempted a precise landing.
It didn't work.
Kai slammed into the dirt, kicking up a cloud of dust.
"Ow... So that's what 'needs polish' means," he grumbled, dusting off his clothes.
"A bit," Cosmic murmured, still smiling.
Kai stood with a sigh and stretched out his hand.
"Enough rehearsal. Time for the real show. Let's go with Blue."
With focused intent, a dense, vibrant blue sphere appeared, floating above his palm. He made it orbit his body like a controlled satellite. The movement was fluid, following his arm naturally.
"How long can you sustain it at full power?"
"Thirty seconds if I want to pull around two hundred pounds. That's if I'm calm and focused. Then comes the ringing... and the migraines."
Kai dismissed the sphere with a snap of his fingers, exhaling.
"Now for Red..."
He extended his hand. Focused. Visualized not pulling — but repelling.
A scarlet flicker sparked in his palm... then vanished.
"Nothing. Not even a twitch," he said, frustrated.
Cosmic nodded calmly.
"The red you're trying to create operates on a different logic. You said red should repel, but you're still thinking like someone who absorbs. Red is the opposite void — it rejects."
"Rejects..." Kai huffed. "Feels personal."
"Let's try again. The technique you called Mugir."
"Mugen," Kai corrected with a laugh. "Not sure about your planet, but here that means something else entirely."
Cosmic nodded with a smile.
Kai closed his eyes and focused the void's energy around himself, forming a distortion zone. Space around his body began to ripple, like an invisible lens warping reality. A soft hum vibrated at the frequency of absence — and then... it activated.
Mugen, as he liked to call it.
"Got it," said Kai, his voice slightly muffled by the effort.
Cosmic approached.
"Let's test resistance."
A small disc of stone was thrown at him. It disintegrated two meters away from Kai's body, pulverized by a force that didn't touch — only erased.
Then came a larger fragment, twice the weight. It struck the distortion zone and decelerated violently, like pushing through invisible mud. Still, it never touched Kai.
He was breathing harder now.
"It's already starting to drain my energy..."
"And if the impact is even greater?"
Kai simply nodded.
Cosmic formed a compressed energy sphere and hurled it. Kai narrowed his gaze.
The impact was stronger. The Mugen field warped violently, the energy sphere decelerating to the extreme... but eventually, a fragment of force broke through. His left shoulder took the hit, making him stagger in the air.
"Ugh... got it," he said, panting.
Cosmic stepped closer.
"The stronger the impact, the more energy Mugen consumes to nullify it. If the force exceeds your reserve... it gets through. Even if weakened."
Kai rotated his shoulder, feeling the pressure.
"So… it's not a wall. It's a scale. Time, effort, and energy. Three separate limits."
"Yes. And time... is your second enemy. The field is effective, but it's not infinite," Cosmic added.
Kai landed softly on the ground, tired but smirking.
"Six months ago, I couldn't get off the ground. Then I stumbled just trying to float. Now... I can deny space."
Cosmic approached, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Tomorrow you turn thirteen. But you already carry the weight of someone who's lived far more. Are you ready for what's next?"
Kai took a deep breath, looking up at the sky.
"No. I don't even know what I'd be ready for. Neither of us were meant to be in this world. I just... don't want to get in Mark's way. I'll figure it out. Let him do his thing."
"Even after telling me about your past life, even feeling out of place... this life is yours too, Kai."
Kai stayed quiet for a second.
"Cosmic, remember what I told you about the deities?"
"I do."
"You said it yourself: if I didn't have this Viltrumite body, the void energy would've killed me."
"Yes... but what are you thinking?"
"Before reincarnating, the deities told me some things that sounded like... a script. But it made sense later. They said there were Viltrumites in this world. And that if I didn't interfere with someone named Mark, everything would work out."
"Mark... your brother?"
"Exactly. Just connect the dots. My brother's name is Mark and he's a Viltrumite hybrid. It's clear the prophecy was about him. And judging by what they said, they didn't plan on me being born as his twin."
Cosmic pondered for a moment.
"That suggests your birth as a Viltrumite was an accident. A variable."
"The blessing of luck..." Kai said, eyes distant.
"The GDA has records of your birth. Even prenatal scans. There were no signs of twins. None," said Cosmic, looking at Kai.
"Then the universe really did find a way to adjust to the 'blessing'," Kai said with a faint ironic smile.
"Even if it was a mistake, Kai... you're here now. And you matter. I saved a group of people last week from a robbery. One of them told me... if I hadn't shown up, something awful would've happened. That wouldn't have happened if you hadn't used your power that day — the day I broke through and came to Earth."
"Yeah. Maybe. But as long as I don't mess anything up... I'll take that as a win."
"In a way, that's also living here — being part of this world, Kai."
"In the end, whatever. As long as I don't mess things up for Mark," Kai replied casually.
"Today, you're still guided by who you were in that other life… But someday, your time here might outweigh that. Viltrumites live for thousands of years… You know that, right?"
They stood there for a while, the wind brushing over the rocks and the void spiraling silently around them.
After a few more minutes of silence, as Kai recovered from the Mugen tests, he asked:
"If I had to fight a Viltrumite right now… what are my chances?"
Cosmic thought before replying.
"You're still growing. Your Viltrumite powers are still developing. With luck... 10%. Maybe less."
"Great," Kai muttered with dry sarcasm.
"But I have an idea. Something I've been thinking about. A way you might compensate for their speed," said Cosmic, with the tone of a friend unveiling a plan.
"Go on," Kai said, glancing his way.
"What if instead of using Mugen only as a defense... you used micro-explosions of Blue internally, pointed in the direction you want to move? It would pull you toward your target — like invisible propulsion."
Kai raised a brow.
"Oh, sure. Sounds simple. I'll do that while brushing my teeth."
They both laughed.
"It'll take practice. But the upside is... no one would see it. Everything happens inside your distortion field. It'd be... undetectable."
Kai smiled.
"Another year of alien metaphors, crazy training, and migraines. Can't wait."
"And I can't wait to see how you'll use it."
Kai clenched his fist. Deep down, his real drive was to find out if, even for a brief moment, he could surpass the speed of an adult Viltrumite.
"Sounds like work. Let's get this circus started before I change my mind."
Thirteen Candles, Two Worlds
January 23, 2011 — Grayson Residence — Cold afternoon, clear sky
The house was simply decorated — red and yellow balloons, a crooked, handwritten banner taped above the kitchen door that read: "Happy Birthday Mark and Kai!" Debbie moved between the sink and the oven, adjusting the cake while humming some song from the 80s.
On the couch, Mark watched a cartoon with an exaggeratedly serious face, as if it were part of his pre-heroic training.
Kai sat beside him, a book in hand — the third in the Last Light of Gharn series, authored by "N.G." He wasn't paying attention to anything else, eyes fixed between the lines like he was decoding something hidden.
"You guys excited, or just pretending your own birthday doesn't matter?" Debbie asked from the kitchen.
"I'm excited! But... it would've been cooler if my powers showed up today, you know?" said Mark, wrinkling his nose.
"Maybe next time," Kai replied, eyes still on the page.
"You've been saying that since we turned ten."
"And I'll keep saying it until you prove me wrong."
Mark groaned and tossed a pillow at him. Kai tilted his head slightly, dodging it like he'd already seen the trajectory coming.
Debbie entered with a plate of improvised cupcakes.
"Your friends are coming later. Becky already confirmed. Derick's mom said she'll drop him off too. And yes — before you ask — July is coming."
"Is that a party combo or a threat?" Kai asked, raising an eyebrow.
"It's whatever it needs to be to make you two have fun today."
Later — Grayson backyard
The afternoon dragged on slowly, sunlight filtering through the bare winter trees. The old snow had melted, but the air still held the chill. A small group of friends scattered through the yard. Mark ran around with Derick, trying to knock down an imaginary snowball. Becky was complaining about the temperature. July laughed at something she couldn't even remember.
Kai watched from a distance, leaning against the doorframe, hands in his pockets.
Janet, Becky's mom, arrived with a tub of cookies, and Debbie greeted her with hugs and quiet laughter. Nolan lingered nearby, observing with that usual distant gaze — but for some reason... softer than before.
After congratulating the twins, Janet approached, smiling when she saw Kai at the door.
"Kai... thank you for the advice. Since then, work's been way more tolerable."
Debbie furrowed her brow, curious.
"Wait — what advice?"
Kai, calm and almost bored as usual, replied:
"I just told Janet that if you don't set boundaries, you end up as the office doormat."
Janet laughed, ruffling his hair.
"This boy has a calm and awareness that isn't normal for his age. It's like he's from another world."
Debbie chuckled too.
"Don't get me started. Sometimes I go to scold both of them, and only Mark takes it seriously. Kai just replies with something that makes me stop and think."
Janet, playfully:
"If he were about fifteen years older, I'd marry him."
From the back of the yard, Becky screamed in horror:
"Ughhh, MOM! It's KAI!"
Laughter erupted from everyone.
Debbie stepped into the kitchen and returned a few minutes later.
"Are you happy? It's your birthday..." she said, approaching Kai with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate.
"More than I usually am."
"That your way of saying yes?"
Kai shrugged.
"Maybe."
She laughed and ran her hand through his hair.
"Thirteen years. Feels unreal."
"Sometimes I think so too."
She didn't catch the double meaning — but smiled anyway.
Nightfall — Living room
The cupcakes had been swapped for a real cake — something Nolan had bought, which was rare. Everyone was gathered in the living room. The lights were dim. Thirteen candles flickered atop the cake, illuminating the twin brothers' faces.
Mark made a wish silently with his eyes closed. Kai simply watched the flames.
"You're not gonna make a wish?" Mark asked in a whisper.
"I already did."
"What was it?"
"Not to mess anything up. What about you?"
Mark went quiet for a moment, then laughed.
"Yeah... that's very you. I'm not telling mine though, or it won't come true."
"Then why'd you ask about mine? Your logic is... impressive."
Everyone laughed, and in the next moment, both brothers blew out the candles together.
Later that night, just before bed...
Kai sat in the bedroom, gazing out the window. Outside, the world moved on. A shooting star streaked across the sky for a few seconds — or maybe it was just another satellite.
Mark turned over in bed.
"Thanks for staying with me today."
"It wasn't that big of a sacrifice."
"This was the best birthday so far."
Kai closed his eyes for a moment.
"Mine too."
And they slept.
Two brothers. Thirteen years old. Walking paths that, though different, still ran side by side — at least for now.
Interlude – Promising Youths
GDA – Strategic Analysis Room Late – January 2011 – Three days after the twins' birthday
The fluorescent lights of the GDA's operations center flickered in cold hues. Holographic panels rotated slowly, projecting maps, energy traces, and profiles of yet-uncatalogued anomalies. It was late afternoon, though no sky existed above the underground complex — only the constant hum of servers and the controlled silence of people tasked with safeguarding the planet.
Cecil Stedman walked slowly through the room, glancing at floating reports, an unlit cigar in one hand. In the background, Cosmic studied a sequence of void vibrational pattern simulations — red and blue lines pulsing inside a suspended light cube.
"You know you don't have to run those analyses every time you come back, right?" Cecil said, stopping beside the hero. "No one here understands your... interpretive light ballet."
Cosmic didn't respond immediately. His gaze remained fixed on the projection. When he spoke, his voice was calm:
"Every fold has a signature. Every shift in the void leaves a trail. I've just... gotten used to hearing what others ignore."
Cecil smirked faintly, rolling the cigar between his fingers.
"Well... while you listen to the invisible, the rest of us are stuck with too much exploding on this side. Another attack in Kosovo — and the Scarlet Twins vanished again. I'm starting to think they've got a hidden teleporter... or one hell of a lawyer."
"Or just a well-developed fear of death," Cosmic replied, almost lightly.
Cecil gave a short laugh through his nose. He walked to the central table, pulled a folder, flipped through a few pages, and without looking up, muttered:
"Donald, is this accurate? We had no significant records of powered youth before, but in the last six months... 16 cases have emerged."
"Yes, sir. And based on our assessments, we expect to find more. We still don't know how or where their powers originated," Donald said, pointing to locations marked on a screen.
Cecil paused, staring at the displayed map, trying to make sense of it.
Then, Donald touched the communicator on his ear. "Understood. On my way."
"Sir, I'll be in the analysis wing. I'll return shortly."
Cecil nodded. He placed the folder on a nearby table, one hand sliding into his coat pocket while the other held the cigar between his lips as Donald exited the room. Now, Cecil's gaze turned to Cosmic.
"You know, Cosmic... speaking of powered youth... I've been wondering when you'll decide to reveal who the blue-eyed boy really is."
Cosmic looked away from the projection.
"My answer remains the same. That decision isn't mine to make."
"Oh, of course. The old 'free will of the individual' speech... Always the philosopher." Cecil crossed his arms. "But tell me at least... are you keeping an eye on him?"
"Yes. I've been training him. Slowly. At his pace."
Cecil nodded, fixing his gaze on the hero's face. His tone shifted — still friendly, but more serious.
"Is he a threat?"
Cosmic answered directly, without hesitation:
"No. It's... complicated. But he's not a danger. Nor is he inclined to become one."
"And what about his personality?"
"He carries something old. A maturity out of time. And also a weariness that doesn't belong to this world. But despite all that, he's... good. Even if he fights against it."
Cecil leaned an elbow on the table. His voice took on a more reflective tone.
"You know... the last time someone appeared with unregistered powers and no background... well, Earth gained both a protector and a ticking time bomb."
Cosmic crossed his arms, still looking at the pulsing cube of light as if it might answer questions even Cecil didn't dare ask.
"This time... it's not a ticking bomb, Cecil. It's more like a comet out of orbit. You can try to predict, calculate... but not control it."
Cecil narrowed his eyes slightly.
"Comets can also level entire cities if they fall in the wrong place."
"And they can bring gold. And data from the birth of the universe."
Cecil tapped the unlit cigar against the table lightly, as if keeping time with his thoughts.
"Is his power strong? Does he know what he's carrying?"
"He does. More than he should. Enough to hide it — even from himself."
"And do you trust him?"
Cosmic didn't answer right away. He looked at the projection — still pulsing like a suspended heart — then nodded subtly:
"I trust what he's chosen to be. Despite everything he carries... he chose not to hurt. He chose to remain unseen."
"Choices change."
"Yes. But as far as I can see... that one's solid."
Cecil walked slowly across the room, voice lowered:
"Have you read the GDA's contingency protocols?"
"All of them. Even the classified ones."
"Then you know if he gets out of control, we'll have to act."
Cosmic turned, still calm — but firm:
"I wouldn't let it come to that. And if it ever did... he would end it himself. Trust me on that."
Cecil stayed silent for a few seconds. Then he let out a soft sigh and placed the cigar back between his lips, still unlit.
There was a pause. Then, the room's doors slid open with a quiet hiss. Donald returned, clipboard in hand.
"Sir, Sentinel 7 just detected an atmospheric anomaly off the Kamchatka coast. Could be a cyclone... or something else."
Cecil nodded, taking the clipboard.
"We're always one step from the end of the world. Thanks, Donald."
He turned again to Cosmic, now with a faint smile.
"If you think he's worth the risk, I'll give you more time. But remember... time is the GDA's most expensive resource."
"And it's the only thing he's never asked for," said Cosmic, his tone carrying something deeper.
Cosmic walked toward the exit.
"I'll see what I can do about the cyclone anomaly. Thanks, Cecil."
Cecil remained still for a moment, surrounded by projections, maps, and the echoes of what was coming. A whole planet balanced on choices like that.
And somewhere out there, a thirteen-year-old boy with the Void and impossibly blue eyes still wondered if he had the right to exist in that world.