Eleven years had passed since the world was changed forever.
The Mana Convergence—a mysterious global event that had once shaken the very core of reality—had become history, yet its consequences were still unfolding like a never-ending storm. What had started as a surge of supernatural awakenings had evolved into an entirely new era for Earth, one where children with powers shaped society more than governments ever could.
And yet, not all were shaped equally.
Michael stood on the rooftop of a crumbling apartment block, the city stretching before him in flickering lights and broken skylines. The wind tugged at his faded gray hoodie, his dark eyes watching the world below not with awe, but with quiet detachment. At seventeen years old, he was lean, sharp-boned, and quiet—his presence often forgotten unless someone wanted to remind him that he was still powerless.
Still a Never.
More kids had awakened each year. From glowing hands to telekinetic bursts, from elemental control to monstrous transformations—the phenomenon was expanding. By now, it was rare to find a teenager without an ability. It had become a global norm, a symbol of status, fear, and chaos.
Except for Michael.
He remembered the early years, when the world was still reeling and confused. Governments stumbled, systems collapsed, and society barely held together. The awakening children—some barely able to understand what they were doing—left trails of destruction. Cities burned. Schools became war zones. Order crumbled.
But humans were adaptive. They always had been.
Eventually, the United Earth Coalition founded the first Awakening Stabilization Institute—a massive, walled academy designed to contain, educate, and weaponize the next generation of superpowered individuals. From then on, any child who awakened would be registered, monitored, and trained.
Michael never got the call.
Now at 17, he walked the same broken streets as those who flew above them. He lived in the shadow of power—not feared, not admired, not noticed. Bullies came and went. He didn't care anymore. Their words had dulled into background noise. The punches? Those were less frequent now—most kids were too busy chasing glory.
At least he wasn't alone.
"Yo, Mike. You zoning out again?"
Michael turned his head slightly to see Caleb, a scrawny boy with unruly brown curls and thick glasses, clambering up beside him. Caleb was 16, always out of breath, always cracking some weird science joke. But most importantly—like Michael—Caleb hadn't awakened either.
"Just watching the sunset," Michael said.
"There's no sun," Caleb pointed out. "Just smog. Pretty smog, though."
Michael cracked a small smile.
They sat together, two powerless boys in a world of gods, surrounded by smoke-stained buildings and half-functioning power lines. Every few minutes, a distant boom would echo—either a rogue ability or a training session gone wrong. It was hard to tell these days.
Caleb glanced over. "You ever think it's better we didn't awaken?"
Michael raised an eyebrow.
"I mean… yeah, sure, we get our faces pushed into lockers and we're walking punchlines, but… people with powers? They're messed up, man. Pressure to be heroes, expectations, getting recruited by shady corps or worse—going nuts and getting put down by government hunters…"
Michael didn't respond right away. He'd seen what happened to some of those kids. Too young to handle the power. Too angry. Too broken. Too hungry for approval.
"You might be right," he muttered.
Caleb grinned, satisfied with himself. "Of course I'm right. I'm basically your therapist at this point."
Michael chuckled under his breath.
Still, as the sky darkened and the wind carried the distant sound of sirens, a part of him still wondered—Why not me?
Was he broken? Forgotten? Or simply meant for something… different?
The world, despite its chaos, had slowly begun to rebuild. Entire cities had risen with new architecture designed to withstand elemental outbursts and psychic storms. New laws governed power use. Special task forces regulated awakenings. Children were tested in schools for compatibility as early as age five.
But while the government worked to create order, the rest of the world reacted in its own way.
New organizations rose from the ashes of collapsed systems, some born from ideals, others from ambition or desperation.
The largest of them, The Ascended Path, claimed to be a spiritual movement. They believed the Mana Convergence was divine intervention—a new evolution for humanity. They sought to guide awakened children as "chosen ones," teaching self-control and enlightenment. But rumors abounded of harsh rituals, forced awakenings, and disappearances.
Then there was Black Halo, a rogue paramilitary group made up of former soldiers, mercenaries, and powerful Awakened. They believed only the strong should rule, and the weak should serve or be removed. They attacked government facilities and kidnapped young Awakened to join their ranks. Some cities fell under their influence.
The Luminari
Then Luminari a secretive, self-styled resistance group composed primarily of gifted teenagers and young adults who believe they are not just survivors in a hostile world—but chosen ones. They see themselves as the vanguard of a new era, born with mana not by accident, but by divine or cosmic design. To them, the rise of mana-users marks a destined evolution of humanity. They stand in opposition to extremist groups like The Hollow, who seek to exterminate the gifted.
Their ideology is best symbolized in the image they wear proudly:
A resistance group of gifted teens who believe they were chosen to guide the world through rebirth. Their symbol is the blue eye—the mark of mana the each of them possess and the belived that those with the ability should be allowed to shape the world
The Hollow
The Hollow is a radical, underground extremist organization devoted to the complete eradication of all gifted individuals—those who wield mana, possess elemental affinities, or have any form of supernatural power. To them, the very existence of the gifted is a threat to humanity's natural order, purity, and survival. They believe mana is a corruption—an alien force that defies human evolution and invites disaster.
Their central ideology is captured in their chilling motto:
> "Humanity First. Mana Nowhere."
In contrast, Aurora Lineage was a scientific collective, mostly composed of powered researchers and intellectuals. They pushed the boundaries of mana manipulation, trying to engineer artificial awakenings and even gene-spliced enhancements. Their experiments weren't always ethical—and not always legal.
There were dozens more. Cults. Guilds. Academies. Resistance cells.
The world had become fragmented—shifting lines of influence, unstable alliances, and shadows within shadows all to suppress the government.
Despite all this, the government clung to order. The Global Authority for Supernatural Affairs (GASA) became the leading voice in maintaining structure, organizing patrols, and regulating training institutes.
Michael didn't care about any of them.
He wasn't part of their world.
He went to school. He endured whispers. He walked past recruitment posters for organizations that wouldn't look twice at him. And he kept his head down.
His brother, Nicholas—now twelve—had awakened from birth with his ability to control lighting it was enough to get him into a junior training program. Michael was proud of him. Quietly. Secretly. Painfully.
He never let it show.
One evening, after Caleb had gone home and the streets dimmed to silence, Michael walked alone beneath a flickering streetlamp. He heard laughter behind him—older teens with glowing tattoos and cocky swagger.
"Yo, it's the Null-boy," one sneered. "How's it feel to be stuck in the past?"
Michael said nothing.
Another leaned in close. "Come on, man. Say something. Blink weird. Maybe your power'll pop up outta pity."
He didn't respond. Just walked.
A shove came. Harder than needed. His shoulder hit a brick wall. Pain bloomed in his ribs, but he pushed himself off and kept going.
It wasn't worth it.
He'd long stopped asking for fairness.
Still, in the back of his mind, something stirred.
Not hope. Not anger. Something older.
Something… watching.
The people had learned to adapt to power.
They had not yet learned to prepare for what came next.
And that's when it happened.
Not a convergence this time, but something far worse. Something no one expected. Something that didn't come from within…
But from the stars above.
Until Earth had its first invasion.