Morning crept in, soft light spilling across the floorboards, but the night refused to let me go. The memories clung like cobwebs, impossible to shake.
Was it real?
Had I truly unleashed that surge of power, or was it nothing more than a fevered hallucination brought on by exhaustion? The thought gnawed at me as I lay there, staring at the ceiling.
No. It couldn't have been real. There was no way I had actually blasted light from my fist like some storybook hero. That wasn't possible. That wasn't me.
And yet, doubt lingered—quiet, relentless.
Then again… if it was real, then something in my life had shifted. The thought lingered as I sat up, slow and cautious, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. My gaze fell to the corner of my room—my heart stuttered. There, scattered across the floor, lay the splintered remains of last night's invention. The same one I'd destroyed with that surge of blue energy.
It wasn't a dream.
The proof was right in front of me, jagged and undeniable.
I stayed there for a moment, staring at the debris, a hollow ache blooming in my chest. If last night had happened—if that power had really erupted from me—then I wasn't the same person I'd been yesterday.
Finally, I dragged myself to my feet, every step heavy, and left the room. The smell of frying bacon drifted up the stairs, warm and grounding. I followed it down to the kitchen.
"Ah, Matt. Up early for once. 'Bout time," Ella remarked over her shoulder as she stirred a pan. Her voice was light, teasing, but it couldn't quite mask the edge of surprise. Usually she was the one banging on my door to get me up.
But today was different.
I lingered in the doorway, caught between two worlds—the normal hum of breakfast and the echo of that impossible power. Should I tell her? Would she even believe me?
No.
If I told her, she'd panic. Maybe even lock me inside for my own safety. And if I didn't understand what happened, how could she?
So I stayed silent.
The hours drifted by, sunlight sliding across the floorboards. Strangely, the day wasn't as bad as I'd expected. For the first time in years, I didn't retreat to my room or bury myself in the basement. Instead, I found myself outside.
The yard, usually scarred by craters from failed experiments, looked almost peaceful in the morning light. Tools lay dormant, grass swayed where dirt should've been scorched. For once, it felt like the world had stopped holding its breath.
It was… nice.
A word I hadn't been able to use for a long time.
I sprawled beneath the open sky, stretching out and letting the sun soak into my skin. The warmth crawled over me slowly, like a memory. I'd never noticed how good it felt before—probably because I always kept myself hidden, sleeves down, hood up.
Strangely, the heat reminded me of last night, of the blue energy coursing through me like liquid fire before exploding outward. The pulse of it. The rush. The danger.
I pushed the thought away.
No. Not now.
A sudden rustle broke the stillness. Leaves shifting. Branches snapping. Something moving—steady, deliberate.
I sat up, scanning the tree line.
The cabin door creaked open behind me.
"Matt? You're outside? And there's no weird explosive?" Ella's voice held mock surprise as she stepped out, wiping her hands on a cloth. "That's new."
But I barely heard her. My focus was locked on the treeline.
"There's something over there," I muttered, my voice low, my hand lifting to point.
Ella followed my gaze, her playful expression fading.
That's when it emerged.
The ground shook beneath a massive form lumbering into view—unlike anything I had ever seen. Its body was a grotesque fusion of tree roots, jagged stone, and packed earth, bound together into a walking nightmare. But its chest held the strangest piece of all: a crystalline core, enormous and glowing faintly blue, pulsing like a heartbeat.
Ella stiffened at my side, her usual confidence faltering. "What the hell…?"
We froze. Neither of us knew what to do. When her eyes flicked to me, I caught the fear hidden in them. She knew how terrified I was. I'd never fought anything before—and this was no ordinary beast.
Then Ella moved. No hesitation, no pause. "Una, ni, ignis!" Her chant cut through the night. Flames sparked in her palm, swelling into a roaring stream of fire that hammered the creature's chest. Smoke billowed, but when it cleared, the thing stood unscathed. Only a few blackened scars marred its surface.
Ella's jaw tightened. Again, she cast. And again. Fire blazed, spells cracked against its hide—but nothing stopped its advance.
I couldn't move. My limbs locked as the truth sank in. This was it. This thing had come to finish the story that should've ended years ago.
"Matt! Get out of here! I'll buy you time!" Ella's voice was sharp, commanding—but the tremor beneath betrayed her fear.
I couldn't. I wouldn't. Running meant leaving her. And I'd already lost too much.
The creature didn't even look at her. Its attention was fixed on me.
I tried to stumble back, but my heel caught the dirt and I went down hard. The monster loomed overhead, arms of root and stone lifting high for the killing blow.
"Matt, run!" Ella's cry cracked into desperation.
I couldn't move. Fear had me pinned—every regret, every missed "thank you," pressed on my ribs like a weight. Years of hiding, of taking Ella for granted, of never offering even a sliver of appreciation crowded the tiny space between heartbeat and breath. If I could go back, I would undo it all.
Something inside me snapped. Anger and frustration rose like a tide, bright and hot. I clenched my fist and threw it forward, aiming for the crystal in the creature's chest with everything I had.
As my fist cut through the air, it happened again—the burn, that impossible current. It started behind my sternum, a coiled heat that raced down my arm and poured into my hand. Light wrapped around my knuckles, a blue so bright it felt like cold fire.
Then—boom. The crystal exploded. A bell-like fracture ran through it, then shards detonated outward. A shockwave slammed into the clearing, tearing leaves from branches and throwing dust into the air. The beast screamed, a sound like splintering bark and grinding stone, then buckled. Its body collapsed inward, roots and rock folding into a heap of ruined earth.
I dropped to my knees, lungs burning, staring at my palm where the light still hummed and died. My hand trembled. It had happened again.
A rush of exhilaration hit me so hard I could barely breathe. "Hell yeah!" I shouted, the sound tearing out of me without warning. Whatever this power was, it belonged to me now. I wasn't a helpless kid anymore.
Ella, still shaking, barreled over and wrapped me in a fierce hug. "I thought you—" Her voice splintered; her shoulders trembled. "I thought you were gone." I had no answer. I just let her hold me until the world slowed.
When she let go, she wiped her face with the back of her hand. "I don't know what's happening to you, Matt… but whatever it is, you won't face it alone."
We turned toward the ruined creature. Its destruction left a swath of wreckage that pointed straight back to town.
"Matt, listen to me." Ella's tone hardened. "Do not tell a soul what you did. If they learn a twelve-year-old can kill something our guards couldn't, they won't call you a hero. They'll call you a danger. There will be consequences."
I swallowed. I understood. Exposure here would be worse than silence.
I forced out a slow breath and glanced into the forest where the thing had come from. Something about it felt deliberate—like it hadn't been wandering; it had been sent.
Ella read my look. "You're wondering where it came from, aren't you?" I nodded. She let out a long sigh. "We'll check it. But not tonight. You need rest. We both do."
I didn't argue. My body ached and my head buzzed, but one thought steadied me: this wasn't finished.