After those catastrophes…
the world was no longer what it once was.
Professions vanished.
Not gradually…but all at once.
Within a handful of days, an entire system—built over centuries—collapsed.
A world that had relied almost entirely on electricity…on systems…on stability…
was suddenly transformed into something unknown.
Something without laws.Without direction.Without a clear future.
People no longer thought of success…nor ambition…nor even tomorrow.
All that remained…
was survival.
Only survival.
And in the heart of that collapse…
an ancient trait resurfaced.
A trait buried beneath layers of comfort and routine.
Adaptation.
It emerged… fiercely.
Without planning.Without leadership.Without agreement.
People began to gather.
Small groups… then larger ones… then more organized.
And each group had clear goals:
First… understanding.What happened? Who are the invaders? What are these powers?
Second… strength.Some began to notice the changes—abilities… energy… things beyond nature.
So they experimented.They trained.They risked everything.
Because one truth became undeniable:
Those who do not evolve… die.
Third… survival.
For the invaders…
did not care.
They did not look back.
They did not see humanity as a threat worth noticing.
And that…
was their greatest mistake.
Because it gave humanity something rare.
Time.
And with time…
the real transformation began.
Groups started to connect.To exchange knowledge.To pass on primitive techniques.
Chaos slowly…
turned into a new order.
A harsh one… but enough to endure.
But…
not everyone chose the same path.
Humanity split.
Into three roads:
The righteous path.
Groups striving to protect others.Sharing knowledge.Building instead of destroying.
The hypocrite's path.
They showed kindness…but pursued their own gain.
They exploited the weak…and traded in fear.
And then…
the worst.
The cruel… the wicked path.
Those who did not see chaos as disaster…
but an opportunity.
An opportunity for control.For plunder.To unleash everything buried within them.
And so…
the world was no longer one.
But became…
scattered arenas of power.
far from all of that…
there was another world.
Smaller.Quieter…
but far more painful.
Inside a modest home…
William's mother sat in the corner of the room.
Her hand held a piece of cloth…but her mind was elsewhere.
Her eyes were fixed…
on nothing.
Days had passed…
with no news.
No trace.
No voice.
His absence…
was heavier than any truth.
Across from her…
his father sat.
His back slightly bent.His face pale…
and his eyes carried something that had never been there before.
Helplessness.
Since the beginning of the catastrophe…
he had gone out again and again.
Searching for work… for food… for a chance.
But the world had changed.
There were no jobs.
No system.
No safety.
And each time he returned…
he came back with less.
And less hope.
At last, the father broke the silence.
In a low voice, he said:
"He's strong…"
He paused.
Then added:
"He will come back."
The words were weak…
but they were all he had.
The mother…
did not reply.
But her hand tightened around the cloth.
And in her eyes…
there was only fear.
At the same time…
far away…
there stood a boy…
who was no longer the same.
A broken body…a burdened soul…and a mind awakening to something it did not yet fully understand.
William stood outside the cabin.
The cold air brushed against his face.
But another sensation was stronger.
A feeling…
that he no longer belonged to the same world he had left behind.
He looked toward the horizon.
Far…
very far away.
Then, in a voice barely heard, he said:
"I have to go back…"
But his voice carried more than longing.
It carried…
something else.
Something born from pain.From torment.From survival.
A power not yet formed…
but already awakening.
Behind him…
the old man watched in silence.
With eyes that knew…
what was to come…
would not be just a return.
But a beginning.
A faint smile crossed his lips…
and within his mind, he said:
"Let us return to the world… and see how long you endure."