With the sands of time came mankind.
But how did God, and the gods themselves, come to be?
It was a question that had plagued a boy named Michael Ozor for as long as he could remember. Born into a world steeped in mystery, he had always been fascinated by the things humanity couldn't explain. The diversity of life, the unanswered questions, the origins of existence and the countless mysteries hidden beneath the surface of reality. They all fuelled a curiosity that never seemed to rest.
After all, how could something come from nothing? Who had set everything in motion? And if God existed, who had created God?
Questions upon questions.
Unfortunately, the world rarely offered answers.
Michael's world was unlike ours. Here, humanity had evolved beyond what most people would consider ordinary. Humans possessed extraordinary abilities, powers shaped by the stories they carried and the emotions that defined them.
These abilities could not be inherited through bloodlines, nor could they be acquired through years of training or study. They were simply given.
By whom?
Nobody knew.
The gifted were divided into three distinct groups: the Reliers, the Mourners and the Hybrids.
First came the Reliers.
Reliers drew their strength from the emotions of others. Their abilities depended on the bonds they formed, the connections they maintained and the feelings they could draw upon. The deeper their emotional reliance on another person, the greater their potential became. For them, relationships were more than companionship. They were a source of power.
Then came the Mourners.
Unlike Reliers, Mourners drew strength from within themselves. Their abilities were fuelled by personal suffering, grief and the lingering echoes of painful memories. The more deeply their past affected them, the more power they could potentially draw from it.
Pain, in their case, was not merely something to endure.
It was something that could be wielded.
And finally, there were the Hybrids.
Rare individuals capable of harnessing both external and internal forces, Hybrids possessed the potential to draw upon their own emotions as well as those of the people around them. Their abilities were often vast, unpredictable and difficult to comprehend. They represented the combination of two seemingly opposing systems, making them some of the most exceptional individuals in the world.
Of course, being exceptional didn't necessarily mean being fortunate.
But that is a story for another time.
Michael, however, had no idea where he belonged.
His abilities had yet to awaken, leaving him with more questions than answers. Would he become a Relier, depending on the emotions of others? Would he become a Mourner, drawing strength from the wounds of his past? Or would he somehow become a Hybrid, possessing the ability to harness both?
He had imagined the possibilities countless times.
Perhaps he would awaken an extraordinary ability. Perhaps he would become someone worth remembering.
Or perhaps he would turn out to be just another ordinary boy in an extraordinary world.
His future, much like the world around him, remained uncertain.
A mystery waiting to unfold.
And speaking of mysteries, let us return to our boy.
In a city illuminated by countless lights, a young man walked beneath the rain.
Cars passed along the wet roads, their headlights reflecting against the puddles. Buildings stood tall on either side of the streets, their windows glowing with the warmth of people who had somewhere to be and someone to return to.
The city was alive.
Yet Michael felt as though he were the only person who wasn't part of it.
His shoulders were slumped, his expression dull. Water trickled down his face, soaking his clothes as he continued walking without much concern for the weather.
He glanced at his phone.
Nothing.
A quiet sigh escaped his lips.
"Even she is too busy," he muttered.
He slipped the phone back into his pocket and continued down the street.
Perhaps it was foolish to expect anything different. People had their own lives, their own problems and their own priorities. He understood that perfectly well.
Still, understanding something didn't make it hurt any less.
The rain continued to fall, tapping against his skin as though attempting to comfort him. With every passing moment, the streets grew quieter, and the raindrops became his closest companions.
At least they didn't ignore him.
At least they never made him feel unwanted.
They simply fell, without asking anything in return.
This boy was Michael.
And Michael was Ozor.
Together, we tell our story.
Michael Ozor was soon to turn eighteen, yet he longed for death as though he had already lived through a war.
Strange, isn't it?
Most people his age were excited about the future. They had dreams to chase, relationships to pursue and countless experiences waiting to be discovered.
Michael, on the other hand, seemed to have had enough.
It wasn't necessarily because he was depressed. At least, that wasn't how he understood it. He simply felt out of place, like a freak who had somehow found himself in the wrong world.
Imagine being born into a society where people could manipulate extraordinary abilities, where emotions could be transformed into power and where even the most ordinary person could possess something remarkable.
Now imagine being the one person who couldn't do any of it.
That was Michael.
While others identified themselves as Reliers, Mourners or Hybrids, he was nothing more than an ordinary boy who could inhale oxygen.
Yes, oxygen.
Quite the impressive ability, wouldn't you agree?
At his age, many had already awakened their powers. Some were happy, some were in relationships, and others were busy making plans for futures they were confident they would live to see.
But not Michael.
He had already experienced what he believed life had to offer. He had travelled, suffered and loved. He had encountered moments that should have made him happy and endured experiences that should have broken him.
Yet somehow, none of it seemed to matter anymore.
Nothing excited him.
Nothing held his attention for long.
Every attempt to find meaning in his existence seemed to lead him back to the same empty conclusion. No matter where he went or what he experienced, something always felt missing.
And perhaps that was why his thoughts so often drifted towards death.
Not because he had never experienced happiness, but because he struggled to understand why he should continue searching for it.
Then there were the two girls.
Ah, yes.
The two rather complicated figures in Michael's life.
One had ruined him, yet brought a kind of chaos he couldn't seem to resist. She was the sort of person who could leave him frustrated one moment and occupy his thoughts for the rest of the day.
The other made him feel something he rarely experienced.
Happiness.
A different kind of happiness, one that made him forget, even if only briefly, how miserable he believed his existence to be.
Two girls.
Two different feelings.
And somehow, both had managed to become part of the mess that was Michael Ozor.
Yet despite having both in his life, he still didn't want to live.
A rather disturbing paradox, wouldn't you say?
Now, you might be wondering what a tall, lean, caramel-skinned boy like Michael was doing, wandering through the rain with the weight of the world resting on his shoulders.
Well, height isn't everything.
Neither is appearance.
And certainly not the ability to breathe oxygen.
On this particular night, Michael felt like crawling into a hole and disappearing. He wanted to escape the noise in his head, the complications of his life and the endless thoughts that seemed determined to follow him wherever he went.
He wanted everything to stop.
But enough about that.
Let's rewind a little...