Seventeen years ago, the Earth expanded.
There was no explosion, no sudden cataclysm.
The world simply grew.
One day, maps no longer matched; oceans stretched across new distances, and entire unknown continents extended beyond the horizon.
Scientists called it the Expansion.
The religious called it a new beginning.
Everyone else — the majority — simply learned to survive.
No one understood how or why Earth had increased in size by three hundred percent.
But something had accompanied that transformation: a subtle, intangible energy flowing everywhere — in the winds, in the seas, in the blood of every creature.
They called it Aether.
And from that moment on, nothing was ever the same.
Alex, an eighteen-year-old in his final year of high school, stared at the sky through the classroom window.
It was gray, as always.
The fog had swallowed the city for days, creeping between skyscrapers like a living beast.
For those who lived in that region, it had become normal — no one seemed to notice anymore.
The Aether had changed the climate, mutated animals, and spawned monstrous horrors — beings so terrifying that merely seeing them could make one die of fear.
Fortunately, they lived mostly in the uncharted lands, where Aether concentrations were highest.
Seated at his desk, Alex tapped a finger against the cold glass.
His brown hair fell messily across his forehead, and his eyes seemed constantly elsewhere.
Of average height and slight build, he was the kind of person who blended into the background.
And that suited him just fine.
The teacher was talking about Adaptation Categories — concepts as debated as they were uncertain.
According to official theories, every individual exposed to Aether long enough developed a mark — a unique alteration called a Condition.
No one knew how or why it appeared: some spoke of genetic mutations, others of divine judgment.
Only one thing was certain — once it manifested, neither body nor mind ever remained the same.
After classes, the school emptied quickly.
Alex usually met up with two students from the technical course, Tarek and Julian, who waited for him at the gate.
"Going to the usual place?" asked Tarek, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"Not today." Alex shook his head. "I have to stop by the lab. Keep working on my research."
"Still on that Aether stuff? You'll blow yourself up one day."
Alex gave a tired smile. "At least it would be interesting."
His "lab" was an old basement room beneath the city library.
He spent hours there, studying Aetheric crystals and fragments loaned to the school by the civil defense fortresses, dreaming of one day becoming a recognized researcher.
He wasn't a Convergent, but his body seemed unusually resistant to Aether: the safety sensors always showed stable fluctuations — a steady rhythm, like a second invisible heartbeat.
Night found him still buried in his notes.
That was when the light flickered.
A silvery reflection swept across the ceiling, followed by a dull thud at the door.
Alex jumped to his feet.
A man entered, wearing a long coat and a badge he didn't fully reveal.
Behind his glasses, his gaze was cold but not hostile.
"Alex Morren?"
"…Yes?"
"My name is Iver. I'm an agent with the Aetheric Research Division."
Alex stiffened. "What do you want from me?"
"We've been monitoring your readings for weeks. Your body has begun reacting in an… abnormal way."
A pause.
"You've initiated the Convergence process. Likely due to prolonged Aether exposure."
"What? But I've always kept the safety sensors active!"
"That's true," said Iver, "but at first glance, I'd say they're miscalibrated."
Alex opened his mouth, but no words came out.
His heartbeat roared in his ears, breath short.
Even the air seemed to thicken, as if the world itself were holding its breath.
Iver extended a hand, offering him a small translucent sphere.
Inside, a vortex of blue light pulsed like a heart.
"This is a catalyst. It will help you stabilize the Aether — until you enter the Academy."
"Academy?"
A flash split the room.
Alex fell to his knees, vision blurring, as a wave of pain tore through his chest.
He felt something awaken within — a cold, endless current rushing through his veins like a flood.
And in that moment, within the void of consciousness, a voice said something — and then, darkness.