The morning air was cold, damp, and heavy, pressing against Alexander Carson like it had a weight of its own. He pulled his jacket tighter around him as he walked the familiar path to school, boots squelching in the puddles left from last night's rain. Even after years of practice, the subtle twists and turns of the streets felt monotonous, almost suffocating—every corner held memories of walking alone, every alley echoed the mockery of those who believed themselves stronger.
Noah and Oliver were already waiting outside the school gates, leaning against the brick walls like predators sizing up their prey. The moment Alexander stepped into view, Noah smirked.
"Morning, loser," he said, nudging his brother. "Looks like someone's dragging himself out of bed again."
Oliver laughed, pushing Alexander lightly. "Careful, Alex. Don't trip over your own shadow."
Alexander's hands itched to respond, to shove back, to strike—but years of experience had taught him that restraint was his only real weapon here. He straightened his back, muttering under his breath, "Not today," and walked past them.
Inside the school, the routine was just as grim. Teachers avoided looking at him, assuming his low profile meant he didn't need help. Friends didn't exist, not in the traditional sense. Yet Alexander didn't feel entirely alone—he had Elara's presence in his mind, her smile, her gentle encouragement. It was enough to keep him upright, even when the world seemed determined to push him down.
During lunch, he ate alone in the corner of the cafeteria, quietly nibbling at a sandwich while Noah and Oliver flitted around, tormenting other students for sport. Their laughter echoed, reminding him once again why he had learned to endure silently.
Elara had called him earlier, whispering over the phone. "Be careful today, Alexander… please."
He had smiled, though the tightness in his chest betrayed him. "Always," he had said. And he meant it. No matter the cost, he would keep her safe. Even if that cost was every ounce of pride, every bit of comfort he could claim for himself.
After school, the rain began again, soft at first, then heavier, pattering against the windows as he trudged home. His mind drifted back to the mysterious game disk he had discovered in the little shop a few days prior. Something about it had unnerved him, in a way that made his pulse quicken whenever he thought of it. It wasn't just curiosity—it was a faint pull, subtle but persistent, as though the object itself was alive and watching him.
At home, the scene was familiar yet unbearable. Richard, his uncle, sat in the living room with a newspaper, eyes flicking up only long enough to scold him for being late.
"You're lucky I didn't come looking for you, Alexander. Honestly, you should learn some discipline. Your father's business didn't survive on weakness."
Noah and Oliver laughed in the background, clearly enjoying their father's words as much as their own mischief.
Elara peeked out from her room, giving him a worried glance. Alexander smiled faintly, and she nodded. He needed to show her some normalcy, some stability, even if it was a lie.
Later that evening, Alexander found himself alone in his room, the quiet punctuated only by the tapping of rain against the window. The disk sat on his desk, its surface gleaming faintly in the dim lamplight. He hesitated before picking it up. Something told him that touching it was a step he couldn't take back—but the curiosity was too strong.
He ran his fingers along the etched symbols. They seemed to pulse faintly beneath his touch, and a shiver ran down his spine. For a moment, he thought he saw the symbols shift, rearranging themselves before his eyes. His heart thumped wildly.
"What the hell…" he muttered, leaning closer.
He pressed the disk into the slot of his computer. Nothing happened at first. Then, the screen flickered, and the faint hum of the system grew louder. Alexander froze. The room felt colder, the shadows deeper, as though reality itself had shifted ever so slightly.
A single line of text appeared on the monitor:
"Do you seek change, Alexander Carson?"
He blinked. It was impossibly precise—like the disk knew him, knew his life, his pain, his constant struggle. He stared at the words, a chill crawling up his spine.
He reached for the keyboard, typing a hesitant: Yes.
The screen went black for a heartbeat, then glowed brightly, the words forming a pattern of symbols that danced across the screen. Alexander's eyes widened. The room seemed to warp, the walls bending slightly, and a strange heat pulsed in his chest. His hands trembled on the desk.
He wanted to pull back, to shut the computer off, to pretend this was impossible—but deep down, he knew he couldn't. Something inside him—the same part that had endured years of bullying, that had shielded Elara at every turn, that had survived endless pain—whispered that this was his chance. His chance to be more than the weak, powerless boy the world had made him.
The symbols glowed brighter, wrapping around him in a web of faint light. And then, just as suddenly, everything returned to normal. The screen was blank, the room quiet, and yet Alexander felt… different. His pulse raced, his fingers tingled, and his mind buzzed with possibilities he couldn't yet understand.
He didn't know it then, but something had awakened inside him—a spark, a thread connecting him to something far greater than the life he had known. It wasn't yet the fantasy world, nor the battles, nor the powers he would one day wield. It was the first step.