June 1, 2010 — Chicago, Illinois — 1:15 PM
The June sun felt more impatient than usual, hammering the pavement and creating shimmering mirages on the hot asphalt. The abandoned park, where rusted playgrounds looked like sleeping iron skeletons, remained Kai's silent sanctuary.
He walked with firm steps, backpack slung over his shoulders, eyes downcast. The surrounding vegetation was drier, more brittle, the heat making the air ripple in the distance. But none of that bothered him. There, where the world quieted, he still felt like he could exist his own way.
Kai dropped his backpack next to a stone and took off his jacket, revealing a dark T-shirt clinging to his body. His once thin muscles were now more defined. There was strength in his arms, steadiness in his movement.
Without saying a word, he began.
He raised his hand — palm open, fingers spread.
"Blue," he whispered.
The air ahead folded. A distortion appeared instantly — an almost invisible sphere shimmered around an old rusted iron cylinder.
The object — nearly twice as heavy as the one he had moved three months ago — slid across the dry ground and was pulled toward him, colliding with a heavy impact. Kai steadied his feet and absorbed the shock. Nothing cracked. Nothing gave. Only his breathing slowed, calculated.
He smiled faintly.
"Twenty meters. Almost total control... and a bit of a headache."
He sat for a moment on the crooked beam. His pupils turned blue.
The Six Eyes opened to the world. And the world responded.
Leaves rustled 14 meters away. Two insects dueled in midair over a dead flower. The sound of a tire bursting three blocks away. The beat of his own heart.
One minute. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.
He closed his eyes for a moment. The headache came like a punch, but he didn't deactivate the eyes. Instead — he stood up.
The wind stirred the grass in small waves. He opened his arms for a moment, as if feeling everything and everyone, as if the Earth itself pulsed beneath his feet.
Kai just breathed.
But he wasn't alone.
Above the clouds, where the world's heat couldn't reach, Cosmic hovered — silent, solitary, wrapped in his own ethereal presence.
He didn't observe like a hunter. He didn't spy like an agent.
He... felt.
And what he sensed down below, in that subtle fold of space, was far too familiar to ignore.
That energy — raw, unstable, pulsing — was no ordinary thing. It was like a controlled fracture in the fabric of reality. A cosmic wound still healing... exactly like him.
"It's him..." he murmured, his voice muffled by the gravitational currents swirling around him. His eyes glowed behind the mask.
Not with suspicion.
But with awe.
It wasn't fear. It was recognition.
That vibration... it was like the tide that pulled him into this world. A signature of the void, stitched together by something — or someone — that should never have existed here. But did. And endured.
He looked again. Saw Kai ending his training. Breathing deeply. Walking like someone carrying a war on his shoulders — even if he still looked like a boy.
Cosmic closed his eyes.
And for a brief moment, he wished he could stand beside him. Not to warn, not to interrogate. But to talk. As equals. As survivors of what can't be understood.
If he only knew how rare he is...
But he didn't descend.
Not yet.
The cosmic wind swirled around his translucent form, like stardust dancing in slow motion.
He has the right to decide what he is... But... who is he?
And with that, he vanished — not in haste, but in respect.
Like a comet choosing to pass afar...
Rather than tear through the sky of someone who doesn't yet know if they want to shine.
Not far from there, just a bit later...
June 1, 2010 — 3:45 PM, Chicago, Illinois
In a treehouse — a weathered wooden structure worn by time — Eve and Val had built a secret refuge. Accessible only by a makeshift ladder hidden among tall backyard trees, it sat just across from Eve's house. A place where they could escape the world and build their own stories.
The leaves rustled gently in the warm afternoon breeze, and the sunlight filtered through the cracks in the wood, casting dancing shadows on the floor. Eve sat cross-legged in the corner, arms resting on her knees, while Val lay on her back, eyes fixed on the blue sky above.
"Eve, you said during truth or dare that you were gonna tell me something..."
Val turned her head to look at her friend. Her brown eyes were full of curiosity, but there was also something serious in her gaze, as if she sensed a real secret coming.
Eve, with a mischievous smile, looked at her, still cloaked in mystery. She bit the corner of her mint gum slowly, and her usually cheerful voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper.
"I'm gonna tell you something... but you have to promise not to tell anyone."
Val furrowed her brow slightly, now more alert, and gave a firm nod.
"Alright, you can trust me."
Satisfied, Eve pulled another green mint gum from her pocket. She held it between her fingers like it was something magical. Then, almost imperceptibly, she used her power.
The gum began to change. Eve split it in half and popped a piece into her mouth. The mint taste vanished, replaced by something sweeter, more familiar. She watched the transformation, then stretched the gum out to Val with a grin.
"Try it, Val."
Val eyed the now soft pink gum with suspicion. She hesitated for a second, then gave in to curiosity and took a bite. A sweet, fruity flavor filled her mouth.
"Hmm... cherry?"
"Exactly!" Eve laughed. "I did that. Watch this..."
She pulled out a coin from her pocket, glanced at the president's face on it, then touched it with a subtle gesture. In seconds, the face was replaced — now it bore Val's likeness.
"Look! President Val!"
Eve handed it to her, still laughing. Val stared, stunned. Then looked back at Eve with a mix of confusion and… discomfort.
"Eve... how did you do that?"
Leaning forward, excited and unaware of her friend's unease, Eve glowed with enthusiasm.
"Remember when I told you I could see molecules?"
"Yeah... but that's weird."
"I can move them around. Reshape them. I can do stuff like that all the time!"
Val took a step back. Curiosity was still there — but so was fear.
"That's... that's too much, Eve."
Too excited to notice, Eve decided to show even more. She stretched her hands into the air and focused. A floating pink sphere began to take shape, spinning softly and lighting up their faces.
Val stared, wide-eyed. Fascinated — and terrified.
"Look, Val! Isn't it amazing? I can even make things out of nothing now!"
The sphere circled Val gently, but she backed away, fear finally winning.
"Stop! I said stop, Eve!"
Startled, Eve let go. The orb vanished instantly.
Still shaken, Val turned to leave the treehouse, now clearly disturbed.
"Normal people don't do stuff like that, Eve!"
Her voice cracked as she ran down the ladder and didn't look back.
Eve stood still, calling her name — but got no reply. Val disappeared into the distance.
She remained alone, confused, staring at the empty space beside her.
It wasn't supposed to be scary... It was just fun. It was just me.
A few minutes later…
Kai walked slowly, muscles still tense from training. He took a shortcut behind the old park, through a dirt path that led to a grassy clearing surrounded by trees. The shade was thick, and the sounds of the city seemed far away.
Then he saw her again.
Sitting alone in the grass, as if she belonged there.
The girl.
Red hair tied in a messy bun. Hands stretched forward. A flower floated between them — made of pink energy, shaped precisely... but unstable and impossible. Kai recognized her not by name, but by the way she touched the world.
The flower withered in the next moment. Dissolving into pink dust.
"It's not even worth creating if it's just gonna die like that..."
Her voice was quiet, a single tear held in her eyes.
Something about it pulled Kai in. Maybe the energy, or maybe the way she looked just as lost as he did — with the power she had.
He stepped closer, stopping behind a nearby tree.
"You created that from nothing and still shaped it the way you wanted? That's... impressive."
Startled, Eve turned around.
Before she could say anything, he added, "You know... some things don't exist to last forever. Just to prove they can."
Something in his voice made her relax.
"You always show up out of nowhere like that?"
"No. Just when the silence feels too heavy."
She frowned, trying to figure him out — but something in her smiled, small and fragile.
"You... you're the same from before, right? The boy with the skateboard…?"
Kai shrugged. Didn't confirm. Didn't deny.
Eve studied him for a moment. Her eyes sparkled with a vibrant energy that screamed to be seen. His? His eyes held the stillness of a contained abyss.
"I guess now I'm supposed to ask your name, huh?"
Kai turned just enough to glance back over his shoulder, his voice heavy with that sarcasm that only someone who'd lost faith in life could wear like armor.
"If you asked now… would it matter? I might give you one that isn't even mine."
And before she could ask more, he was already walking away.
The wind nudged the branches gently. Eve remained seated, staring at nothing — as if the world had just become a little stranger… and a little easier to bear.
"Again he vanished... He saw my power? But Val…"
She smiled to herself. The sting of rejection? A bit lighter now.
Eve climbed back up into the treehouse and leaned on a branch, but before she could get lost in her thoughts again...
A sharp clack of a bicycle echoed from the street.
A boy was riding too fast for that uneven path, his backpack bouncing on his shoulders, no helmet, eyes glued to the phone strapped to his handlebars. He didn't see the exposed root ahead — but the wheel did.
The tire spun wildly, the boy lost balance, and the world tilted into slow motion.
But he didn't fall.
Just inches from the ground, a platform of pink energy bloomed beneath him, cushioning the fall like a trampoline made of light. He bounced gently, rolled to the ground, and stayed there — stunned.
"What... the...?"
The bike, now also wrapped in a soft glow, landed beside him with a quiet thump. The boy looked around, breath quickening. No one. Not a trace.
While the boy processed his confusion, Eve watched from above. She was breathing slowly, focused. Her hand still outstretched.
When she saw the boy was safe, she relaxed her fingers and climbed down from the branch carefully. The pink energy faded away like smoke in sunlight.
"Okay, maybe... just maybe, it was worth creating something today," she whispered to herself.
And then, with a light step, she headed home — leaving behind a confused boy, an intact bicycle, and the feeling that something very strange — and very good — had just happened.
Days Later — Containment Operation — North Industrial Zone, Detroit
Thick black smoke rose in columns, staining the sky with the metallic scent of destruction. Sirens echoed in the distance, mixing with screams, alarms, and the erratic buzz of toppled power lines. Three warehouses were on fire. Overturned trucks blocked entire streets. And in the center of it all — a creature.
It stood over three meters tall, its distorted musculature like knots of tendons twisted into a barely-humanoid form. Four arms, two of them ending in fused bone blades. Its skin was gray, with pulsing orange veins glowing through natural cracks.
A projectile streaked across the sky — red and relentless. Red Rush.
At high speed, he circled the creature, sending shockwaves through the air with each pass. On his thirteenth lap, he struck the monster's knee with a metal bar, attempting to bring it down.
No effect.
The creature spun violently, lifting one of its bone-blade arms and — with unexpected reflexes — slashed through the air. Almost hit him.
Red Rush pulled back just in time, but a thin line of blood was now visible on his side. He muttered something in Russian, frustrated, and prepared for another run.
Above, War Woman descended like a meteor. Her armor gleamed in the firelight, divine hammer spinning with celestial precision. She slammed straight down on the creature's head, crushing the top of its skull with a seismic impact that split the ground beneath them.
The creature dropped to its knees.
War Woman stepped back, panting. Part of the thing's jaw now hung loose. And yet… it stood up.
"This should've killed you," she growled, spinning her hammer again.
But before she could strike, a new sound filled the industrial zone.
A short whistle.
BOOM.
Omni-Man pierced the warehouse roof like a bloodstained missile and crashed into the creature's chest shoulder-first. The force of impact sent both through two buildings, a concrete wall, and an empty fuel truck before burying them in a 12-meter crater.
Dust and shrapnel erupted like a bomb.
Inside the crater, the creature tried to rise. Nolan grabbed its head with both hands.
"You shouldn't be here," he said. "But since you are..."
With a sharp twist, Nolan snapped the monster's neck — the crack echoed. But it didn't die. Its limbs still twitched.
"Regenerative. Great."
War Woman slammed down, driving her hammer into the creature's chest. A shockwave of golden rings exploded outward.
Red Rush arrived beside them.
"Still alive?!"
"Not for long," Nolan replied. With his hands deep in its ribcage, he began to tear it apart — clean, brutal. Orange blood gushed like a fountain.
The creature roared, but the sound soon became a gurgle.
Silence.
At last, it fell — split in two, unrecognizable.
The three heroes stood quietly, catching their breath. Only the sounds of fire and sirens filled the air now.
"That one was tougher than usual," War Woman said, wiping blood from her face.
Red Rush pulled out his communicator and spoke in Russian.
"Threat neutralized. Requesting heavy cleanup."
Drones from the GDA flew overhead, scanning and recording the remains.
The Name on the Screen — GDA Headquarters — Sublevel 3 — 17:07
The elevator's hum was muffled, but still metallic enough to break the illusion of calm. Reinforced doors slid open with a hiss, and Cosmic walked through the corridors of the Global Defense Agency like someone returning home.
His optical disguise was off. Purple-hued skin, glowing eyes, and his organic armor humming faintly with cosmic energy — he made his way to Central Monitoring.
Cecil was seated as always: slouched in his chair, shirt halfway unbuttoned, eyes locked on the dozens of monitors tracking global threats across time zones. A cold, forgotten cup of coffee sat by the ashtray.
When he heard the door slide open, he didn't even glance.
"About time you came back," he muttered. "I thought you went off to rescue another satellite."
Cosmic stepped in silently, stopping behind him with arms crossed.
"Saved two, if you must know."
Cecil chuckled dryly without turning.
"Any of them bite your hand off this time?"
"One tried. But it wasn't one of the big ones."
For a moment, silence settled. The kind shared between people who carry weight — just not the same kind.
Cecil turned in his chair slightly, his tired face scanning Cosmic with a mixture of sarcasm and concern.
"How're you holding up?"
Cosmic tilted his head slightly.
"Adapting. Earth isn't simple."
"Or fair."
"But you already knew that, didn't you?"
Cecil sighed, lighting another cigarette with an old lighter. He coughed lightly before responding.
"I did. But it's different when you see someone still trying... for no reason at all."
Cosmic moved closer to the screens. His gaze drifted across real-time data: controlled fires, protests, night surveillance, known villains moving through secondary networks.
Then something in the corner caught his eye.
Low Priority — Residential Zone / Unidentified Youths — Light Observation (Protocol 'Nascente')
Frozen frames showed teenagers walking near a school. One of them... looked familiar.
Even with the low resolution... Cosmic knew him.
It was the boy he'd seen alone in the park.
He said nothing. Just pointed at the screen with his chin.
"This one... who is he?"
Cecil glanced over, dismissively.
"One of our passive observation cases. Kid was in an incident a few weeks ago. Weird moment with two Zone 6 creatures. But we've got no solid data. Name's Kai Grayson. Nolan's kid."
Cosmic paused for just a beat too long.
"And...?"
"And nothing," Cecil said, snuffing out his cigarette. "No detectable energy. Clean medical file. No mutation history. But just in case, we're watching him and the brother. Nothing serious."
Cosmic kept his eyes on the screen longer than necessary.
"Grayson... Omni-man's Kid... Interesting."
Cecil squinted, catching something in his tone — but didn't press.
"You know him?"
"Just... seems like someone who might need someone. Sometimes that's enough."
Cecil scoffed, shaking his head.
"You've got that tragic hero complex, you know?"
Cosmic was already walking away, activating his wristband.
"Better a tragic hero than an indifferent observer," he replied with a smirk.
The door closed behind him with a soft hiss.
Cecil chuckled at that, watching him leave.
There's something you're not telling me...
But he wouldn't push. Not yet.
On the screen, Kai's image remained frozen. Eyes downcast. Hands in his pockets. Slightly apart from the others.
One among thousands.
But someone had noticed.
Tickets, Pixels, and Silences
RetroGalaxy Arcade — Late Afternoon
"Everyone goes and you promised," said Mark, already pulling Kai by the arm as they walked into the brightly lit arcade. "Just one afternoon. You need to live a little. It's the least you can do after three months locked in monk-depression mode."
"And your idea of living is a smelly arcade with machines from 2006?"
Kai looked at him with the usual expression. That half-bored, half-is-this-worth-it face.
"Exactly!" Mark spread his arms triumphantly. "It's nostalgia! It's classic! It's... free tokens if we buy soda."
That made Kai consider it for two more seconds.
The arcade was a sanctuary of blinking lights, loud sounds, and questionable carpet. Fighting games, pinball, racing simulators, and at least three cabinets under repair. A noisy paradise for preteens.
"Here, here!" Mark pointed to Blazing Champions 3.
"I don't even like this game," said Kai.
"And I suck at it. We'll balance it out."
They started playing.
Mark mashed buttons with chaotic enthusiasm. Kai, initially disinterested, moved his fingers like he was typing some ancient code. But as the match progressed, something clicked. Automatic reflexes. Perfect combos. Kai ruled the screen like he'd been born in that arcade. Honestly, the games in this world were disturbingly similar to the ones Kai used to play in his past life.
"Okay... what was that?" Mark stared in disbelief. "You said you didn't like this!"
"I don't," Kai replied. "But I used to be good. A long time ago."
Mark frowned for a second, then laughed.
"When did you even play this? I've never seen you! But that explains why my health bar evaporated."
Becky, Derick, and July showed up a bit later, already holding tokens and full of energy.
"Look who's actually gaming for real!" said Becky.
"Kai's wrecking people over here," Derick added. "I've never seen this much digital blood spill."
July just smirked from the side.
"He's pretending to be human, but his robot skills with machines just leaked through," she joked.
Kai shrugged, already standing and walking toward another machine.
It was Velocity Run — a rhythm game with spaceships and reaction timing.
An older kid, wearing a cap and tank top, was in the seat. When he saw Kai approaching, he chuckled.
"This one's not for noobs, alright? Wait your turn till I lose."
Kai waited.
When the kid finally lost, grumbling as he left, Kai sat down, inserted a token... and started.
First stage. Flawless. Second. Also flawless.
Soon, a small crowd had formed. The sound effects blasted. Kai missed no beats. No dodges. His eyes tracked the lights with unnerving precision. It was like watching a cosmic clock tick in human form.
The previous high score was 139,800.
Kai finished with 215,300.
Screen froze.
Enter Name:
He typed: ...
Three dots.
Mark showed up with sodas, eyes wide.
"You did that?!"
"Yeah."
"That was the city record!"
"It's mine now."
The machine spat out dozens of prize tickets.
Kai stared at them like they were dead leaves. Mark scooped them up.
"We can get a glowing keychain, a syringe pen, and a zombie hamster plush."
"Take the hamster. Fits your academic record."
Mark laughed, nudging his brother in the arm.
Later, around a table with fries and sodas, the five looked like any group of teenagers. Kai was still the quietest. But he was there. Not trying to leave.
Becky and Derick argued over which game was the most rigged, July was scheming a way to hack the ticket exchange, and Mark poked Kai with a straw.
"See? Totally worth it."
Kai nodded.
"It was."
And for the first time in weeks… he wasn't thinking about monsters, experiments, or the void.
Just his brother beside him, a half-empty soda, and the cheesy voice of a machine declaring:
"PLAYER ONE — REIGNING CHAMPION!"
Some Time Later — Back Home
The front door creaked open with a muffled groan. Mark walked in first, excited, holding a bunch of crumpled tickets and a plastic zombie keychain. Kai followed right behind, quiet as usual, carrying a small bag full of arcade trinkets.
Debbie was in the kitchen, apron tied around her waist, a pot of pasta bubbling on the stove. The smell of garlic and onions filled the house.
"Look who's back!" she said without turning, recognizing the footsteps. "And in one piece, apparently. A miracle."
"Mom! I got this!" Mark raised the keychain like a trophy. "And Kai broke the city record on Velocity Run!"
Debbie turned around, still holding the wooden spoon.
"Velocity what?"
"It's a game. Like… spaceships and reflexes. Arcade stuff."
She raised an eyebrow and looked at Kai.
"You broke a record? On an arcade machine?"
Kai shrugged, dropping the bag on the counter.
"Wasn't on purpose."
"Yeah… he just humiliated half a dozen teenagers, won two hundred tickets, and almost walked out with a prize fan," Mark said with a sarcastic tone.
"I refused the fan," Kai murmured as he opened the cupboard.
Debbie huffed, pouring the sauce into the serving dish.
"Good to know that if the world ends, at least one of you can survive using ninja reflexes and prize tickets."
"And the other one's here to tell the tale," Mark added, sitting at the table.
"At least you two made it back in time for dinner," she said. "And didn't leave anything behind on the way, like… an arm. Or your sanity."
Kai sat down as well, grabbing a glass of juice.
"Sanity stayed there. But the keychain made up for it."
Mark waved the keychain in front of her face.
"Look at this zombie, Mom. It glows in the dark!"
Debbie picked it up and examined it.
"Glows? I bet it also smells like gasoline and comes with a biohazard warning."
She handed the item back and sat between them, letting out a soft sigh — tired, but happy.
"You know… sometimes I wish you guys would never grow up."
Mark smiled. Kai didn't say anything, but the expression on his face softened.
"But it doesn't last, does it?" Debbie added as she picked up her fork. "So enjoy it while you can."
Mark took the first plate. Kai the second. Debbie just watched, wearing that smile that never said the words I'm proud of you out loud… but always said it in her gestures.
The TV in the living room was murmuring something about a fire in New York. But there, in that kitchen, the biggest crisis was deciding who would do the dishes.
"I'm not the one who broke the record," Mark said, his mouth already full.
"I just played," Kai replied.
"And I just cooked," said Debbie. "Democracy. Both of you do the dishes."
"Unfair," they both mumbled at the same time.
The only sound in the house was that — clinking plates, muffled laughter, and the world outside… just a little farther away.
After dinner, the dishes were piled up in the sink, but no one had stood up to face the punishment yet. Debbie was sprawled on the couch, a glass of wine in hand. Mark scrolled through his phone. Kai watched the TV in silence.
The screen displayed live footage from drones flying over a burning building in downtown Atlanta. The headline read:
"SHAPESHIFTER VILLAIN ATTACK CONTAINED BY THE GUARDIANS — EXCLUSIVE IMAGES"
The reporter spoke with urgency:
"The villain known only as 'Mold' attempted to invade a vaccine distribution center earlier tonight. According to the GDA, he was quickly intercepted by the Guardians of the Globe."
The image cut.
Red Rush appeared on screen, evacuating civilians at impossible speeds. War Woman slammed her golden axe into a gelatinous mass. The Immortal barreled through a wall with two security guards in his arms.
And then, he appeared.
Omni-Man.
Soaring above the chaos, eyes narrowed, expression grim. He dove straight into the core of the building, emerging seconds later with a large chunk of roof — preventing collapse.
The camera froze on a close-up of his face, covered in soot.
"Omni-Man led the final containment efforts," the reporter continued. "Witnesses confirm that Mold was neutralized without casualties."
Mark stretched his neck to see better.
"Looks like Dad's in full destruction mode today."
Kai said nothing, but his eyes lingered on the screen longer than necessary. The camera showed Nolan flying off, trailed by Aquarius and Green Ghost.
Debbie sipped her wine and murmured, "He said he'd try to make it home for dinner..."
"Guess dinner turned into a chemical incident," Mark said.
"Again," Kai added, eyes still on the screen.
Debbie glanced at her sons and sighed — tired, but still smiling.
"Sometimes I wish he was just an accountant or a novelist."
Mark snorted.
"Dad as an accountant… he'd be the IRS's worst nightmare. 'Declare your taxes or I'll declare you extinct.'"
"Ugh, that was awful," Debbie replied. "Almost as bad as your jokes."
Kai exhaled sharply through his nose — the closest thing to a laugh he allowed himself.
Then came a familiar sound outside. A soft landing.
Debbie stood calmly.
"Speaking of the devil..."
The front door opened slowly. Nolan entered, wiping his gloves with a soot-stained rag. He looked visibly tired — but whole.
Mark ran to him.
"You were on TV! It was epic!"
Nolan smiled faintly, ruffling his son's hair.
"Just another Tuesday."
Kai watched quietly from the couch.
Debbie crossed her arms and looked at his suit.
"So I'm still the official superhero laundry service, huh?"
"You married the alien," Nolan replied with a sideways smirk.
She laughed, then stepped in for a hug. The kind that needed no explanation — followed by a kiss.
"Ew!" Mark yelled, then grabbed Kai by the arm with a grimace. "Let's go upstairs, bro."
They disappeared toward the stairs, their laughter echoing faintly.
"You two should be grateful your parents still love each other!" Debbie called after them, then turned her gaze back to Nolan.
"Go check on them. Then change. And… find time for them. Even if it's just half an hour," she said softly.
Nolan nodded and made his way upstairs. As he reached the slightly ajar door to the twins' room, he stopped.
Silently, he watched for a moment — Mark was lying on the floor, belly up, spinning the zombie keychain in his fingers, laughing at something from earlier. Kai sat on the edge of the bed, eyes on the fluttering curtain — quiet, but present.
Nolan knocked twice on the doorframe, a familiar rhythm.
"Can I come in?"
Mark waved lazily.
"Sure, Dad."
Kai only nodded once, and Nolan stepped inside like he always did after intense missions.
"You guys catch the news?"
"You were on every channel," said Mark. "One of them even put sunglasses on your face and called it, 'Omni-Man: Saving the Day in Style'."
"I have no idea what that means," Nolan replied, arms crossed.
"It means you were cool. Like, in a meme way. Don't let it go to your head."
Nolan chuckled slightly, leaning against the doorframe as his eyes moved between them.
"Did anything happen today?"
Mark started to sit up, then flopped back down.
"Kai crushed my ego at the arcade. Broke the record. Typed '...' as his name. That's like… being mysterious in punctuation."
Nolan raised an eyebrow at Kai.
"So Kai was the star, huh?"
"More or less," Kai said with a shrug.
"Good." Nolan nodded, visibly pleased. "You've got my blood. It's good to see you standing out."
Mark groaned but smiled.
"He plays like he has some mind-reading chip."
Nolan stepped further into the room and sat in the desk chair. That was new — but it felt natural. He didn't say much, but his presence spoke volumes.
"It's good to see you two like this," he said. "It reminds me… normal days still exist."
Mark and Kai exchanged a look. They didn't answer. But they got it.
Nolan stood after another moment.
"Good night, boys."
"Night," Mark replied.
Kai didn't speak, but nodded once.
Nolan was at the door when he paused and turned back to Kai.
"Keep training. But don't forget to rest. A tired soldier… doesn't win any wars."
Kai remained silent. But the words stuck.
When Nolan left, Mark twirled the keychain on his finger.
"He's always dropping war quotes now. He's like… our Viltrumite coach."
Kai gave a half-smile.
"At least he tries."
Mark tossed the keychain toward his brother — Kai caught it mid-air without looking.
Silence settled in the room after that.
The right kind of silence.
The kind shared by those who live under the same roof, share the same world… and something deeper.
A Rush of Energy
Late Afternoon — Inner Streets of Chicago, Illinois
The bicycle creaked slightly as it climbed the curb. The boy was about sixteen or seventeen, backpack heavy on his back, helmet loose, and a pizza box strapped to the rear rack with an elastic cord.
He pedaled with focus — not because he enjoyed it. He just wanted to finish the delivery. His father worked at the restaurant and let him help out now and then to earn some extra change.
The sun hit sideways between the buildings, coloring the narrow street with orange-tinted reflections. The city was in that in-between state — not crowded, not empty. Light traffic, half-occupied sidewalks, and the constant buzz of life.
Eve walked along the opposite sidewalk, hoodie pulled over her head, earbuds playing some instrumental track. She was heading back from the library — the one place where she still felt a little more... less different.
She hadn't expected anything to happen that afternoon.
Until she heard it.
VRRUUUUM!
A black SUV ran the red light at the corner, speeding through a residential neighborhood to escape traffic. The boy on the bike, just about to cross the street, didn't see it. Didn't hear it.
But Eve did.
She ripped her earbuds out in one swift motion. Didn't think. Just acted.
With a quick flick of her hand, she focused — as if an invisible wave carried her forward.
No one saw. The alley beside her was empty. The corner hadn't yet turned. It was that exact moment between chaos and anonymity.
Eve reached out her hand with precision. A pink field formed around the boy and his bike, lifting them off the ground in a soft arc. A second later, the SUV roared past like thunder, scraping the outer edge of the energy aura but never touching it.
The boy spun through the air for a moment, floating like a character in a video game — eyes wide, mouth open.
Then, with near-surgical grace, Eve lowered him to the other side of the street, already out of danger.
The car vanished around the corner, never realizing how close it had come.
The boy jumped off the bike. The pizza box fell to the ground. He looked around, then up, searching for... someone. Anyone.
Eve was already in the alley.
In the shadows, only her eyes still shimmered with the energy that hadn't completely faded.
She gave a small wave — as if to say "you're okay." Then she turned and disappeared behind the dumpsters of the building, like she'd never been there.
The boy stood frozen for a moment.
He picked up the pizza, got back on the bike. Still confused.
But he smiled. A small, unsure smile. The kind that only appears when something unbelievable happens — and no one can prove it.
Walking through the alley, Eve sat on the edge of a metal stairwell and watched the world keep spinning.
Alone. But present.
The sky's reflection danced across her face.
"They don't need to know. I just need him to get home..."
She chuckled softly.
"Guess I'm getting pretty good at saving bikers... and vanishing like the Skateboard Guy."
She said it to no one. No hero pose. No applause.
Just someone with too much energy... trying to do the right thing.
Coffee and Half-Truths
Local Coffee Shop, Chicago, Illinois — Tuesday Morning
The doorbell chimed as Debbie walked into the café, tucking her hair behind her ear while scanning for a free table. It was a cozy spot — light wood walls, the scent of fresh bread and brewed coffee filling the air.
"Debbie!" a familiar voice called from the corner.
It was Janet — Becky's mother — seated at a table with two cappuccinos and a split croissant. Debbie smiled and made her way over.
"You always get here before me," she said, taking off her coat.
"Habit of someone who needs a little peace before a preteen starts arguing about how loud her music can be," Janet replied, laughing.
The two sat down, and a comfortable silence settled in — the kind that only long-time moms and friends shared.
"How are the boys?" Janet asked, stirring her coffee.
"They're... okay, I think. Kai's been more present lately. Mark is still a little ball of solar energy."
"Becky says Kai's like… a walking mystery. And Mark is the background music."
Debbie chuckled. "A soundtrack that plays too loud and never stops."
Janet bit into the croissant, then added almost casually:
"I saw a super on TV last night… holding up a collapsing roof in Atlanta. Swear he had Nolan's build."
Debbie froze for just a second, raising her eyebrows with a soft laugh.
"I think anyone with a mustache and wearing red gets mistaken for him now."
Janet squinted slightly, suspicious — but then smiled, shaking her head.
"Yeah, maybe I'm watching too many news clips."
Debbie looked out the window. The sunlight reflected off parked cars. For a moment, something heavy flickered across her face. But it passed.
"And Becky?" she asked, gently changing the subject.
"Oh, the usual. Complaining about school, about boys, about school again. But she talks about Mark, Kai, and their group a lot... she seems happy."
Debbie took a sip of her coffee and held the cup close to her lips, smirking lightly.
"The funny part? I almost transferred Mark and Kai to a different school. But they only had one spot left. If they weren't twins, they wouldn't have ended up together."
"They built something good. Even being so different."
Janet nodded. "Thank goodness they came as a pair," she said with a soft laugh. "I think our kids live in a stranger world than we understand… but sometimes all they need is friends."
"And moms holding it all together behind the scenes," Debbie added, raising her cup in a quiet toast.
"And to think, I almost put Becky in an all-girls school. I only kept her at Central because of July. And now here we are. Toasting with coffee... surviving with grace."
They both smiled.
And in that moment, the world outside could stay chaotic — full of supers, danger, and mystery.
But at that table, the world was just this: two mothers, a warm drink, and the quiet certainty that they were doing their best.
New Notebook, Old Questions
Chicago Secondary School – Wednesday, 09:12 AM
The first class of the day began with the stubborn scent of dry-erase markers and an old ceiling fan struggling against the early summer heat. The windows were open, and sunlight lazily crept in, reflecting off the scratched wooden desks.
Class 8-B was more restless than usual.
"Class," a new, firm voice called out. "Silence now."
A woman with dark brown hair and thin glasses stood at the front of the room. Her blazer was plain, but her presence demanded attention.
"My name is Ms. Alden. I'm temporarily replacing Mr. Henry. I have degrees in Modern History and Social Ethics. And yes, I believe you're capable of learning more than just names of presidents and dates of wars."
Some students chuckled. Others exchanged glances.
Kai, as always, was silent. Arms crossed on his desk. Eyes steady. But not on her — on the space behind her. As if observing something beyond.
Ms. Alden noticed.
"You. What's your name?"
"Kai."
"Kai. Good. Tell me — do you think superheroes should be above the law if they're 'saving lives'?"
The question caught the class off guard.
Becky and July turned toward him.
Mark was already scribbling excitedly in the corner of his notebook.
Kai looked up.
"The law is only as useful as its application. If saving a life means breaking a rule... maybe the problem is the rule."
The room fell silent.
Ms. Alden narrowed her eyes. But she smiled.
"Interesting answer. But dangerous. That leads us into our semester theme: when morality clashes with structure… who's right?"
Becky glanced at Kai with a mix of surprise and quiet admiration.
Kai simply turned back to his notebook. He wasn't writing anything. Just lines. But he was listening.
Hallways — Break Time
Becky and July walked beside Kai between the lockers.
"You answered like... super grown-up. Like, seriously," July said.
"She cornered me," Kai replied.
"You sound like someone who's really thought about it," Becky added, her voice softer. "About... saving someone. Even if it meant breaking the rules."
Kai paused for a second.
He thought of it all: Rock Cliff. The creature. The woman in the alley.
"I have."
She looked at him for a moment, as if wanting to say more. But she shifted the subject.
"Hey, how are you so good at arcade games? Seriously, you destroyed everyone."
"I didn't do much," Kai murmured. "Just set the city record."
Becky laughed. And for a brief second... everything felt normal.
As they walked, near the end of the break, a boy from another year — a skinny new kid — wandered the hallway, struggling to carry a model project that was clearly too big for him.
Around the corner near the staircase, a group of students ran in the opposite direction. A collision was unavoidable.
Ten meters back, Kai saw everything through the Six Eyes.
Without a word, he stepped slightly forward, subtly raised his hand, and used the bare minimum — controlled Blue.
The model slid gently to the side, landing safely against the wall.
The boy didn't even notice. He kept walking, humming.
The others ran past, none the wiser.
Kai stood still for three more seconds. Then resumed walking, hands in his pockets. No one noticed.
Except Ms. Alden.
Standing near the stairs, she had been watching.
She didn't see the glow in his eyes. Didn't feel the energy.
But something about that motion — that precise, uncanny timing — made her narrow her gaze. The way someone mentally files away a question they don't yet know how to ask.
And so the days of quiet continued.
Kai was more present than ever in a world he might finally be part of...
And more in control of the void he still carried inside.
Silence, Space, and Echoes
Late Afternoon — Forgotten Clearing
A few days later, nearing the end of June, the wind made the leaves dance in lazy spirals as Kai reached the clearing. The sun dipped between the trees, painting the sky gold while stretched shadows claimed the uneven ground.
As usual — part of the routine now — Kai took off his jacket and placed his backpack at the foot of a stone. One of the few constants in a life he'd accepted keeping.
"Blue."
With a soft snap, the space in front of his hand warped slightly. A small stone was pulled in a straight line, hitting a nearby tree trunk with perfect accuracy.
Precision. Control. Repetition.
Still holding out his hand, he tried something new. Instead of channeling the blue void directly, he gathered and compressed the energy at the distorted point.
A small blue sphere began to form near his palm — about one centimeter in diameter.
Headache? Instant.
Holding it required effort — even more than the earlier method of using Blue.
He maintained it for five seconds. On the sixth, a nearby pebble was pulled in a straight line toward the sphere's center, absorbed and compressed within the distortion.
As sweat ran down his brow, Kai thought:
"What if I move it?"
Slowly, he directed the energy toward the tree trunk ahead.
Dust, pebbles, and broken twigs all converged toward the center as the sphere floated through the air.
Exhaustion.
He dropped to the ground, breathing heavily.
It wasn't ready for a real-world emergency yet… but he had just created something new.
Something his body — and void — were beginning to understand.
After a few minutes of rest, Kai returned to his rhythm. Training in silence. Six Eyes active. Total perception.
He saw the shifting patterns of the branches, insects hidden in the shade, the residual vibration of his own power lingering in the air.
Then he stopped.
This time, not because of fatigue.
But because of presence.
At the edge of his perception… something different.
A vibration that came from neither the earth nor the wind — nor from his own energy.
Kai raised his eyes.
Atop a distant tree — high in the canopy no human could reach — a silhouette stood still.
It looked like an ordinary man. But the Six Eyes saw deeper.
A static form. Glowing in hues of violet.
Cosmic.
No sound. No radiant light. Just… presence.
Like a piece of the sky had chosen to touch the ground.
Kai didn't react immediately. He stood still. The Six Eyes outlined the figure with pin-point clarity approaching: energy circling the body, pressure fields harmonized with the surroundings, no aggressive intent.
"Did I get discovered?" — Kai thought.
They remained like that. Silent. Simply watching each other.
Kai took two steps back, still analyzing.
"Are you with the GDA?" he asked, voice more reserved than defensive.
Cosmic didn't answer right away. He simply tilted his head slightly.
Then, he descended.
Not flying — falling silently, like an impossibly heavy leaf.
He landed a few meters from Kai. The boots touched the dirt without a sound.
From Kai's perspective?
The armor vibrated gently in shades of purple and deep blue. The eyes, partially hidden behind a living mask, glowed like two eclipsing stars.
To normal eyes… a perfect disguise. Just a human.
Kai didn't retreat. But every muscle was tense. Ready to flee, fight… or listen.
Cosmic raised one hand, palm open. Not as a threat — as a greeting.
"I'm not with the GDA," he said at last. His voice echoed slightly behind itself, like it passed through a fold in space.
"Then... why are you here?"
"Because you're here. And you... resonate differently."
Kai's brow furrowed.
Cosmic took a step forward, careful not to close the distance.
"I didn't come by order. Or for gain. I just… felt like I was meant to be here."
"You know me?" Kai asked, straight to the point.
"Not like I should. But I sensed something… familiar in the void you wield. As if a part of what touches you also brought me to this place."
Kai looked down. At the marks from training. Then back at him.
"And now that you've seen?"
"Now… I wait."
Kai's frown deepened.
"Wait for what? What do you mean?"
Cosmic didn't respond at once. But then:
"I wait for you to choose when and how to be who you are… I wasn't meant to be in this world either. And in some way, I feel like you weren't, too. I feel like we are… the same."
Kai stayed silent, mind racing.
"As if this wasn't enough, now he speaks in riddles? What the hell is happening… is this some kind of cosmic joke?"
"I didn't come to take anything from you. I came to honor… the chance of being," Cosmic said.
He looked up at the sky. Then at the trees.
And then, as if time folded backward… he vanished into the air — lifted in a motion that didn't resemble any hero's flight.
As though he had blended back into the unseen threads of the world.
Kai stayed a few more minutes. Breathing controlled. Mind unsettled.
That had been a meeting.
But not a confrontation.
And for the first time since he gained those eyes — someone had truly seen him.
Without wanting to take.
Without wanting to train.
Without wanting to monitor.
Just… recognized.
Kai didn't know what to do with that.
So he did the one thing he knew:
He breathed deep…
And trained once more before heading home.
Grayson Twins' Room — That Night
The window was half open. The breeze carried in the distant sounds of the city — the occasional honk, a motorcycle passing, the muffled echo of a barking dog in the next block.
Kai sat at the desk, quieter than usual.The chair leaned back on its two rear legs… rocking gently. He spun a pencil between his fingers, eyes fixed on the void between the page and the wall.
The encounter with that man… Cosmic.
Still echoed.
He tried to ignore it. But he couldn't.
No one had discovered his powers so far… and the things Cosmic had said. That he shouldn't be in this world, but he could still choose to be.
Kai sighed.
He got up.
And walked to the window.
The city stretched out before him, bathed in cold lights and mechanical pulses.Down there… life kept going. People coming. Going. Suffering. Shouting. Dreaming.
And he, standing at that window, wondered to himself:
"What am I even doing here?"
Meanwhile…GDA Headquarters — Spatial Mapping Room
Cecil leaned over one of the digital panels, frowning as he analyzed satellite imagery.
"Still there?" he asked.
One of the technicians replied,"Yes, sir. This 'resonant emission' appears every two or three days, same spot, same intensity. Nothing aggressive… but consistent. Lately, there's also a second variation appearing nearby."
Cecil scratched his beard."That's him. The blue-eyed boy we've been tracking."
"And the other variation?" Donald asked.
"The other one belongs to Cosmic, sir," the technician said, eyes still on the screen.
Donald hesitated.
"Should we intervene?" he asked, now turning toward Cecil.
"Not yet. I trust Cosmic. I'm just… curious," Cecil replied. "They'll meet again. And when they do… I want to know what's behind it."
"The interest in this kid… does it have to do with Protocol Nascente?" Donald pressed.
"Yes. He's the most promising case so far. We've got camera footage of a girl with pink energy. But overall, we don't have much solid data on powered youths yet."
A New Notebook, the Same Old Questions
School — Classroom — Tuesday, 10:10 AM
"Class, close your books for a moment," said the substitute teacher.
She was young, but spoke like someone who had lived three lives already. Her hair tied in a tight bun, tan blazer, and a seriousness that intimidated even the rowdiest students.
"I want you to write down what you don't want to become in the future. It can be a word, a feeling, a type of person. Just write it down. Don't worry, no one's going to read it."
Kai didn't move his pen.
Becky, sitting beside him, was already scribbling. So was Mark.
The teacher scanned the room. The ones who laughed. The ones who rolled their eyes.
And one. Just one. Who didn't move.
Kai.
She quietly approached and rested her hands on his desk.
"Kai, right?"
He nodded without looking up.
"You don't have to write if you don't want to. But just think about it. Sometimes knowing what not to become… is the first step to understanding what we are."
To him, though, it all felt unnecessary.
To avoid prolonging the conversation, he flipped to a blank page in his notebook and wrote two small words in the lower corner:
"Empty repetition."
Hallways — After Class
Kai walked alongside Mark, backpacks slung over their shoulders, footsteps unhurried.
"You saw what the teacher made us write?" Mark asked. "I put: boring. Like, I don't wanna turn into that guy who says 'Happy Monday!' like it's a real thing, you know?"
Kai didn't answer. Mark glanced sideways.
"You write something?"
"I did."
"And…?"
Kai just shrugged.
"Nothing that matters."
"You suck at sharing."
"You're good enough for both of us."
Mark gave him a light shoulder shove.
"Dude… if you didn't have that look like you just insulted the universe, I'd almost think that was a compliment."
Kai responded with his signature half-smirk.
Prologue — Two Voids, One More Encounter
Some days later — a distant point in the city
Cosmic stood atop an abandoned structure, his gaze fixed on the sky as if searching for something between the satellites drifting above Earth's atmosphere.
The energy he had sensed in the clearing… was still there.
But now, it was something more.
The boy had resumed his training.
There were variations in the void. New pulses. Experiments. Instability.
But there was will.
And for someone like Cosmic, that was rare.
His communicator vibrated. Cecil.
"You found the blue-eyed kid I asked you to track, didn't you?"
"Yes..."
"Hmm. From that vague 'yes,' I'm guessing you're not going to tell me who he is."
"It's not my place to reveal the secret of someone who wants to stay hidden."
"Figured that would be your answer..." Cecil sighed on the other end. "Is he trustworthy?"
"Yes. And… he's evolving."
"As expected."
"He's feeling out his own abyss."
"Well... out of respect for you, Cosmic, I won't interfere. Since you're watching him... I just hope he doesn't fall into that abyss."
Cosmic didn't respond right away. He simply looked out toward the horizon.
Minutes later...
The elongated shadows between the trees looked like fingers grasping at fleeing light.
Kai stood in the center of the clearing, jacket off, sweat beginning to bead along his brow.
Training.
With his palm outstretched, a bluish sphere vibrated in the air. Just over a centimeter wide. Dense. Tight. Pulling in dust, twigs, and small stones. Everything was drawn in by the invisible centripetal pull of the Blue technique.
He clenched his teeth.
Moving it cost more than creating it.
When he tried to guide it toward the tree ahead, the resistance felt brutal — like trying to move a planet's core with his bare hands.
But it moved — slowly sliding forward, compressing everything in its path.
Five seconds. Six.
Sweat dripped from his nose.
His pulse pounded like a drum behind his eyes.
With a quiet exhale, he dispersed the sphere.
Sat down on a root.
Breathing heavy, but face as neutral as ever.
The Six Eyes were active — the world lay bare in impossible detail: the wind's direction on the leaves, the heat rising from the ground, the rhythmic pulse of his own aura's vibrations. The edge of each tree shimmered with the micro-movements of reality.
And among all these things… something was different.
A presence.
Unlike any other. Subtle, but there.
Kai didn't move right away.
But he knew he was being watched.
He slowly turned his gaze upward.
Atop an old rusted utility tower, a silhouette stood — still, dissonant, like it didn't belong to this world's flow.
"You again…" Kai muttered, tiredly, like he had expected it.
Without hurry, he picked up his jacket, tossed it over his shoulders, and started walking toward the tower. He didn't seem threatened. But he wasn't exactly comfortable either.
He climbed slowly, stopping five meters from the figure.
"You're terrible at hiding," Kai said, arms crossed.
The silhouette descended.
Not floating.
Falling like a folded wave of space — landing silently on the dry earth.
It was Cosmic.
His living armor partially retracted, eyes like glowing slits inside an organic helmet.
"Thought I was being discreet," Cosmic said calmly.
"Not to someone with six eyes… and a mild case of paranoia," Kai replied.
"Six eyes?" Cosmic tilted his head, intrigued.
"It's a reference from something that doesn't exist in this world." Kai smirked slightly.
"Something not from this world? Interesting... May I?" Cosmic gestured to the ground ahead.
Kai nodded.
Cosmic sat on a low rock, helmet partially opening to reveal a purplish face, luminous eyes, and serene features — an aura that mixed peace with ancient sorrow.
"You trained differently today. You're evolving. The way you control the void has changed."
Kai sat down too, still cautious.
"I'm learning... the hard way."
"You spying on me for fun or…?"
"For... empathy," Cosmic replied.
"I felt... familiarity. When you distort space, it echoes what brought me to this world."
"You have the void inside you."
He watched the boy like someone studying a rare anomaly.
"Void inside me? I've heard that before. What does that even mean?" Kai asked.
Cosmic touched the ground with his fingers.
"The void is absence... but not inertia. It's movement unseen. Pressure without source. Imbalance that holds itself together."
Kai watched him with unusual focus.
"What does that do to me?"
Cosmic raised his gaze.
"Everything. You're alive. A volatile container. The void inside you presses against every cell. Your body... reacts."
After a pause, he added, thoughtfully:
"And I still find it strange. It's as if something in your void… calls out to something in mine."
"Great. So I'm a dimensional freak-magnet now," Kai muttered.
Silence stretched for a few seconds.
"You know what this is?" Kai asked, looking at his own hands. "This energy. This... void?"
"I don't know for certain," Cosmic said. "But I recognize patterns. And you… follow none."
"Comforting," Kai replied dryly.
"But maybe... we can figure it out together."
They stared at each other. No hostility. Just shared curiosity. Like two scientists discovering they'd been studying the same phenomenon — from inside it.
"When you used that technique earlier... your heartbeat spiked. Your skin paled. But your aura... shrank before it expanded."
"I feel like something inside me stretches... until it tears," Kai said. "But if I rest... it goes back to normal."
"Maybe it's not tearing. Maybe it's compression," Cosmic said, tapping the ground.
"You're forcing a concept into a biological system. That causes... stress."
Kai rubbed his temples.
"And the headaches come when I use it. Even if I have energy left."
"Your brain is interpreting a force it shouldn't register with synapses. It's... translating the void as thought. As command."
"And the headaches — does that mean damage? Could it... change me?"
"Maybe. Temporarily. Maybe not. The brain's organic. If you push too hard, you could alter cognitive function. Emotions. Decision-making," Cosmic said, carefully considering each answer.
"So I could literally become someone else if I overdo it."
"For a while... yes. But if you rest, honor your limits, you'll recover. If you were like anyone else on this planet, you'd be dead. But your body is different. I can see you can regenerate. Your brain... it's more resilient than it looks."
"My body being tough... is that why I'm still alive?" Kai asked.
Cosmic now looked directly at him, as if stating a simple fact.
"You survived because you're Viltrumite."
Kai's eyes widened — clearly surprised he knew. But with all the weirdness around him, he returned to his usual calm.
"How do you know? Do you know my father?"
"I've existed longer than you can imagine. I've seen much. And yes... I've worked with Omni-Man before."
Kai sighed and looked up at the sky.
Cosmic, still watching him, continued in a calm tone.
"Your body is a perfect aberration. A mistake that survived. That's why... what should have destroyed you, reshaped itself to fit you. Viltrumites have always been powerful. But I've never seen one carry the void."
Kai took a deep breath. Silent for a few seconds.
Cosmic seemed to hold knowledge that even his father didn't.
Maybe, with Cosmic's help... he could finally understand the power he carried.
He looked down, thoughtful.
"What do you know about... an invisible barrier?" Kai asked.
"Invisible barrier?"
"Some time ago, when a creature tried to hit me, it couldn't. As if something blocked it... and it's happened before."
"Interesting. You distorted the space between you and the creature. Created distance... in an invisible layer. Only someone with the void inside them could do that."
The memory of that moment returned vividly...
He closed his eyes, ran his hand through his hair, and exhaled.
"The Blue... is different from that. But the energy is the same..."
"The Blue?" Cosmic raised an eyebrow, then softened.
"Got it. That's what you call the energy. What I saw you do — that's localized space manipulation. A void of -1 object. You create a point the universe needs to 'fix' because something's… missing. It pulls. Distorts. Attracts."
"Yeah… that was kind of my theory," Kai nodded.
They sat in silence a while longer.
"Do you know why my hair changes color? It turns white when I overuse the energy without resting," Kai asked suddenly.
Cosmic laughed for the first time. A quiet, honest laugh.
"I don't. But… something's happening. Some white strands are already appearing. At the top. When you push too far, it increases. Maybe it's how your body discharges excess. Energy crystallizing into your DNA — either in the melanin or as a stress reaction. A physical reflex to internal overload... not entirely sure."
Kai touched his hair.
"So… if I go full white again... it means I was stupid and overdid it?"
"Or brave. Sometimes it's hard to tell."
They both chuckled, a rare camaraderie forming.
Silence. Kai gazed at the sky.
"There's more to this, isn't there? All of it. This doesn't stop here."
"You're a black hole in human form, Kai. But also… someone who gets to choose what to absorb."
Kai looked him straight in the eye.
"And you?"
"I came from a place where the void was studied. Revered. But my world… it's gone. I wandered, trapped in an empty cosmos."
He paused, memories heavy behind his glowing eyes.
"Until… a tear in time. In the middle of the nothingness, I felt something... used what little energy I had left… and ended up here. It was your energy."
"Mine?"
"Some moment, when you used the void — you tore something. Created a rupture between the void and the universe… I don't know how, but it was powerful. It allowed me to escape the endless nothing. And here I am. In a way... I owe you."
Kai lowered his gaze. Processing.
"No need to thank me. It wasn't on purpose. Doesn't count," he said simply.
"You know… about void energy... my people had a theory that you could handle the void up to a certain point," Cosmic said.
"Maybe… 60%? When we pushed too hard, we also weakened. For you, I imagine the side effects spike after that."
"Sixty percent? You guessing?"
"Observing. Analyzing. Educated guess," Cosmic said. "If you'd like… I can help you test it safely."
Kai looked at him.
"Why?"
"Because you're the only one I've seen carry the void… and still want to understand the world, not break it."
Silence.
"And because… I think we'd be good at this. You have the questions. I… might have half the answers."
Kai thought for a moment. Then gave his usual answer:
"Alright."
Cosmic raised an eyebrow with a faint smile.
"Alright? You're not exactly the excitable type, are you?"
Kai paused. And for the first time, felt like he could say the truth.
"I've been told that. You know... I actually came from another world."
Cosmic stared, confused.
"I was older. I died… and ended up here. But I remember everything from my other life."
"Intriguing... You defy even my deepest understanding of existence," Cosmic said softly.
Silence returned, but not awkward — reflective.
A strange intimacy surrounded them, like two long-lost friends.
Kai stood up, breaking the heavy air.
"As for training — once or twice a month. I'm not in the mood for daily lectures from a cosmic monk. Plus, my dad would get suspicious."
"Fair. I imagine we keep this between us," Cosmic said with a smirk.
"Exactly. And you're buying the soda."
"Deal."
Kai stretched, still catching his breath.
"Think I can form another of those spheres today?"
"No. Your field's unstable. But I can show you how to stabilize the energy base. How to breathe with the void… instead of fighting it."
"You talk like a monk," Kai muttered.
"And you act like someone angry at the temple."
They both laughed.
And under the orange sky of early evening — the impossible happened:
Two voids recognized each other.
One trying to belong.
The other trying not to.
Two beings who were never meant to exist in the same universe…
Started something new.
And for the first time… they weren't alone.