Sixteen Years Later
Wow, it's been sixteen years. You'd think I'd be lighting up the room by now—floating, buzzing with energy, or at least sparking a bit while I sleep. But nope. Sixteen whole years on this planet, and I haven't got a thing. Not even a little spark.
Everyone had big hopes for me. I mean, my dad runs one of the top schools for super-powered folks out there. This is where they train future heroes, where guilds from all over come looking for elemental whizzes, strategic geniuses, and warriors who've been through the fire.
And me? I'm just Tyrone. No powers. No cool backstory. Just... hanging out.
The school hallways were buzzing with energy—like, literally. Sparks were flying as students practiced their flashy moves or showed off to impress their groups. I moved through the crowd like a shadow, hardly noticed. My buddies, James and Phil, were deep into their discussion about the Interguild Tournament coming up.
"The Azure Guild's got that fire mage who turned a waterfall into steam with one hand," Phil said.
James rolled his eyes. "Steam? Come on. Crimson Guild's got a dude who controls blood."
I kept quiet. Tournaments weren't for guys like me. I was just trying to get through the day without someone reminding me that I was the odd one out in a family full of powerhouses.
"Tyrone!" someone called from behind. I flinched.
Here we go.
Tymie swaggered over, all confidence and snark. His body had this cool sparkly look from all the little rocks and dust floating around him—that was his thing. Tymie wasn't just a student; he was made of earth, one of those rare Elementals who strutted around like they owned the place.
"Don't forget my offer," he said with a smirk. "Stick with me, El mano. I'll help you become more than just... you."
I kept walking. "I told you before—I'm not your charity case."
He laughed, loud enough for others to notice. "Really? Most people would jump at a chance to be close to greatness."
"I'm not just anyone," I shot back. "And you're not greatness. Just a rock with a big head."
Tymie's smile sharpened. "You know how many guilds want me on their team? At sixteen? While you're over there playing knights with sticks."
Ouch. That one hit home, and it stung a bit. But I didn't let it show.
Catching up with James and Phil, I felt that pressure again. Not from Tymie or the crowd, but from inside, like something was tightly wound in my chest, either waiting to explode or maybe breaking apart.
After school, I walked in the house like any other day. Dropped my bag. Kicked off my shoes.
And just stopped.
Sitting there on the couch was a man in a black suit, flanked by two silent bodyguards. Something about him felt... off. Like the whole vibe had changed.
He got up, grinning like we were best buds. "Tyrone. Nice to see you again. How've you been?"
My mouth went dry.
"Oh my God," I mumbled. "It's the President."
He stepped closer, eyes shining with something I couldn't quite read.
"No," he said. "It's time."