The corridors of Auris High buzzed with familiar noise—the shuffle of feet, distant laughter, lockers slamming shut. It was chaos wrapped in routine. Yet, for Seren Vale, it felt like walking through a different dimension. Every sound seemed sharpened. Every glance, dissected. Every interaction, heavy with meaning.
He moved like a ghost among the crowd, untouched, eyes tracing subtle shifts in people. The sway of a nervous shoulder. A clenched jaw behind a forced smile. Seren wasn't just observing anymore—he was understanding. He was seeing. Not what was shown, but what was hidden.
Something inside him had changed. It wasn't just a feeling. It was a shift. A quiet storm building beneath his skin. Not pain. Not fear. Something ancient. Something awakening.
As he turned a corner, his shadow elongated across the pale hallway floor. Odd. The overhead lights hadn't changed. Yet his shadow curled unnaturally, bending where it shouldn't.
"You're noticing it now, aren't you?"
The voice wasn't loud. It didn't need to be. It slipped into his mind like it belonged there.
Seren stopped walking.
"Finally," it purred. "You're listening."
He scanned the hallway. No one was near. The laughter and chatter faded into background static.
"Who are you?" he muttered under his breath.
The shadow twitched. Just slightly. Not like a ripple—like a grin.
"A better question: Who are you?"
He turned toward the window. His reflection stared back. Same black uniform, same dark hair falling slightly into his eyes. But the gaze looking back was different. Curious. Amused. Wiser.
"You're awakened, Seren Vale. Your soul stirred something old. And in doing so, you stirred me."
His name from the voice's lips sent a shiver down his spine.
"Are you some hallucination? A delusion?"
"I am the part of you that sees in shadow. The whisper you ignored. The question you never asked. I am the truth that never blinks."
It was absurd. And yet, deep inside, Seren knew it was real. Not because of the words. But because something inside him recognized the voice. Like a forgotten melody.
He resumed walking, more deliberately now. The corridors still pulsed with adolescent life, but Seren felt removed from it. Elevated. Detached.
He passed by familiar faces, yet they looked different now. Not physically, but fundamentally. He saw through them. Read their habits. Caught their slips.
There was a teacher speaking with a senior. Seren watched the subtle shift of the teacher's feet—nervous, unsure. The student smiled too wide.
Power play.
A pair of students laughed too loudly at a joke.
One wants to belong. The other pretends to lead.
He wasn't guessing. He knew.
"Your perception is your gift," the voice said again, calm and cold. "It's how your awakening began. Your eyes see not just light, but intent. You hear not just sound, but weight. But that's only the start."
"So what happens next?"
The shadow laughed.
*"Now, you unravel."
Class began. Seren sat quietly, but he wasn't truly present. His mind wandered, watching. His pencil danced on paper, but his thoughts trailed the way his classmates scratched their heads, how they blinked before speaking, how some avoided the teacher's eyes while others leaned too far forward, trying too hard.
The world had become a book, and he could read between every line.
Then, without warning, pain shot through his temples. Like a spark igniting.
He clenched his fist under the desk.
"You're syncing," the voice said. "Your senses are expanding faster than your body can adapt. That means you're close to manifesting your first power."
Seren breathed deeply.
The pain passed.
Lunch arrived. He walked to the edge of campus where no one sat. A shaded corner near the rusted fence.
There, his shadow stretched again. It shimmered faintly. And then, it spoke.
From the dark outline emerged a shape—slender, humanoid, taller than him but not monstrous. Black like wet ink, its surface constantly moving.
It had no face. But he felt its smirk.
"You're ready now. Your first gift."
Seren stood silently.
"What is it?"
The shadow lifted an arm. "Watch."
The shadow moved. Fast. Too fast.
In a blink, it stood ten feet away.
Seren felt his breath catch. He hadn't moved. But he'd seen it. Every detail.
His heart beat calmly. He understood it.
"Shadow Step," the entity said with a proud tone. "A movement beyond human reflex. You'll learn it. Control it. But not today."
"So I can teleport?"
The shadow tilted its head. "Not quite. You move between moments. The world doesn't see you because you're not there when they look."
Seren smirked. "That sounds impossible."
"So did seeing people for who they truly are. Yet here we are."
The form slowly dissolved back into his shadow.
"Understand this, Seren Vale. Power is not for domination. Not always. Yours is to unveil the world. To strip illusion. But the more you see, the more it will cost you."
Seren stood there in silence. The breeze rustled through rusted fence chains.
"Why me?" he finally asked.
"Because you were never blind. Only sleeping. The world needs those who awaken. Before the Calamity begins."
Seren turned away, back toward the crowd.
Back into the noise.
But now he walked with different eyes.
He had awakened.
And the shadow that watched him all his life—had finally spoken.