Morning sunlight spilled lazily through the half-open curtains, painting thin golden lines across the walls of Alaric's room. The world outside was quiet—birds chirped, wind rattled faintly against the glass, and the faint hum of the city beyond the trees barely broke the calm.
For the first time in days, Alaric woke up without alarms or stress. The clock beside his bed blinked 9:47 A.M. Tuesday. A holiday. No classes, no assignments, just Nothing
His body still ached faintly from the park incident. His muscles felt tight, heavy with something that wasn't exactly pain—more like residue, the echo of lightning that had refused to leave his veins. He stretched and winced a little as small sparks snapped between his fingers and the bedsheet.
"Still doing that," he muttered under his breath, shaking his hand.
Then came the scent—warm, buttery toast and sizzling eggs. His stomach growled instantly. He dragged himself out of bed, brushed his hair back, and walked toward the kitchen.
His mother stood by the stove, humming an old tune from the radio, her hair tied loosely, apron dusted with flour. Sunlight shimmered on the counter. Everything looked painfully normal—like nothing had ever happened.
"Morning," she said without turning.
"Morning," Alaric replied, his voice still groggy.
She set a plate on the counter. "You're up late. Slept well?"
"Yeah, I guess," he said, sitting down. "Just a bit tired."
Her eyes softened as she glanced at him. "You've been locking yourself up a lot lately. Don't study yourself sick, okay?"
Alaric forced a small smile. "Yeah… I'll try."
He hesitated for a second, poking at his food, then added casually,
"Uh, Evans might come over today. We're working on some… science stuff."
His mother gave him the same look she always did when she didn't quite understand but didn't want to argue. "Just don't blow up the house."
He chuckled nervously. "Heh, no promises."
She laughed, shaking her head, and went back to cleaning. For a moment, Alaric just watched her—wondering how she'd react if she ever saw what he really was now.
---
By the time the clock struck ten, the doorbell rang.
Evans stood outside, hoodie half-zipped, dark circles under his eyes, and the same old backpack slung over his shoulder. He looked more like someone sneaking out of a secret lab than a high schooler.
"You look like you didn't sleep either," Alaric said as he opened the door.
Evans smirked. "You try running electric calculations at two in the morning. My brain feels like a fried circuit."
Alaric stepped aside, letting him in quietly. "Mom's home today. Keep it down."
"Got it." Evans lowered his voice immediately. "Where's the lab?"
Alaric pointed upstairs with a grin. "You mean my room?"
---
They climbed up, closing the door behind them like two kids hiding forbidden experiments. Evans unpacked his gear on the desk—a small voltmeter, a heart rate sensor, and something that looked suspiciously like a modified phone battery taped to copper wires.
"You made that yourself?" Alaric asked, peering at the contraption.
Evans grinned. "Last night. Measures current output and fluctuation. I figured if we can record your discharge rate, we can track how much you're actually generating."
Alaric raised a brow. "So basically, you want me to electrocute your toy."
"Precisely." Evans adjusted his glasses, dead serious.
Alaric sighed, then flexed his hand. Small arcs of electricity crackled along his palm—blue at first, then shifting faintly golden as he concentrated. The light reflected off Evans' lenses.
"Okay, here we go," Evans said, clicking his timer. "Low output first. Don't overdo it."
---
For the first few minutes, it went perfectly. Alaric directed the flow in short pulses, tiny sparks jumping between his fingers and the device. The voltmeter needle trembled in response.
Evans scribbled notes furiously. "Your base voltage is rising. It's almost… self-amplifying. This is insane."
Alaric smirked. "Insane's one word for it."
Then, as the current built, a strange hum began to vibrate through the room. Books on the shelf rattled. The air felt thicker, charged—like a storm about to break.
Alaric frowned. "Uh, Evans…?"
"Keep it steady," Evans muttered, eyes locked on the readings.
"I'm trying, but—"
The lights flickered. A photo frame slid off the wall and clattered to the floor. The hum rose higher—almost like the sound of a thousand whispers behind his skull.
Alaric's hands trembled. The energy wasn't obeying anymore.
"Evans! It's pulling more than I can control!"
Evans looked up sharply. "Stop channeling—cut it off!"
"I am trying!"
Electric arcs flared wildly, running up his arms like veins of light. His eyes glowed faintly gold, pupils narrowing. The air rippled with magnetic distortion; metal pens on the table lifted slightly into the air.
Evans took a cautious step back. "Alaric—calm down! You're resonating!"
"I'm trying to!" Alaric yelled. "It's not stopping!"
The hum hit a pitch so high it made the windows shudder. Then—
CRACK!
A blinding burst of golden light tore through the room. The ceiling flashed white, a wave of electricity leapt outward like a shock pulse, knocking both of them back. For a second, everything vanished into silence and static.
Then—darkness.
Every light in the block outside flickered and died.
---
Alaric gasped for air, his chest heaving. His vision blurred with floating sparks. The room smelled of ozone and burnt fabric.
Evans groaned somewhere near the wall, rubbing his head. "Oh… holy… okay, I think I'm alive."
Alaric looked down at himself. His shirt was half-burnt, edges charred—but his skin was perfectly intact. Not even a scratch. Sparks still crawled faintly over his arms, fading slowly like dying stars.
A sharp knock rattled the door.
"Alaric!" his mother's voice came from the hall, urgent. "What was that noise? Are you okay?!"
Alaric's pulse spiked. "Crap, crap, crap—" He scrambled to his feet and slammed the door lock just before she turned the handle.
"Mom! I'm fine! It was just—uh—an experiment gone wrong! I swear I'm okay!"
Her voice was tight with worry. "Experiment? You scared me half to death! Why did the lights go out?!"
"Power trip!" he lied. "Totally unrelated!"
Evans winced, whispering, "Totally unrelated? Seriously?"
Alaric mouthed, shut up, before shouting louder, "I'll clean everything up! Promise!"
After a few tense seconds, her footsteps faded down the hall, muttering something about "teenagers and their stupid gadgets."
---
The silence that followed felt heavier than before.
Evans stood slowly, surveying the damage. The desk was scorched black in one corner, books scattered, faint static still buzzing in the air.
He looked at Alaric—who sat slumped against the bed, eyes wide and trembling slightly.
"You good?" Evans asked quietly.
Alaric nodded weakly. "Yeah… yeah, I think so."
Evans crouched beside him, resting his elbows on his knees. "That wasn't random. It reacted to something—your heartbeat, maybe, or emotion spikes."
Alaric stared at his hands. "I was nervous. I could feel it building, but… it was like it wanted out. Like it had its own will."
Evans exhaled. "Alaric, listen… this is not normal electricity. You didn't just fry a circuit—you created one. You became the current. That's something else entirely."
He got up, pacing across the room, muttering to himself. "It's the same energy resonance signature from the Aurion data leaks. The particle acceleration project—how could I miss that…"
Alaric blinked, confusion cutting through his exhaustion. "Aurion? The same Aurion that—?"
Evans nodded grimly. "Yeah. The company that owned the lab where you had your accident."
A chill ran through Alaric's spine. "You think they did this to me?"
Evans stopped pacing, his voice low. "Not think. I know. The pattern matches. The more I see, the more I'm sure your powers—your energy—it's all tied to what happened in that lab."
Alaric clenched his fists. "Then what do we do?"
Evans didn't answer immediately. He pulled his phone from his pocket, thumbs flying across the screen. The faint blue glow illuminated his face in the dark room.
Alaric watched him, uneasy. "Evans…?"
Finally, Evans looked up, determination hardening his features.
"We need to go there," he said quietly. "To Aurion Industries."
Alaric blinked. "What? Why?"
"Because that's where the answers are. If they caused this, then somewhere in their servers or labs—they have your file. Your data. We'll find out what you really are."
The room was silent except for the faint crackle of fading static.
Alaric took a slow breath. "You're serious?"
Evans met his gaze. "Dead serious."
Alaric glanced at the flickering bulb overhead, still struggling to come back to life. His heart pounded in rhythm with the quiet hum inside his veins.
"Then I guess we're breaking into Aurion," he murmured.
Evans gave a nervous laugh. "Yeah. Just two kids versus a billion-dollar corporation. What could possibly go wrong?"
Despite everything, Alaric smiled faintly. "Everything. And that's exactly why it'll be fun."
Evans rolled his eyes. "You're insane."
"You started it."
They both chuckled weakly, but beneath the laughter hung a quiet tension—the kind that only grows before a storm.
Outside, the power grid flickered back on. The house lights glowed again.
But in Alaric's room, the air still carried a faint shimmer of gold—unseen, but alive.
And deep inside him, something stirred again. Waiting....