The bad weather was finally over when morning came, not with a bang, but just... done. The air smelled fresh and clean, and everything was really quiet, like after something big has moved on. Eli felt it even before he opened his eyes. He was wide awake, but not stressed, like he was relaxed and ready, not uptight.
For the first time in ages, that heavy feeling was just... gone. No invisible pushback. Nothing pulling him in a certain direction. No feeling like his thoughts were being stopped halfway.
He sat up slowly, half-expecting that usual inner reaction. But nothing. And that nothing was a big sign that things were different now.
Eli swung his legs off the bed, his feet landing on the cool floorboards. He really *felt* the cold, not like it was dulled down anymore. When he stood up, there was no automatic help with his balance, no unseen hand keeping him straight. He wobbled for a moment. And kept wobbling. He let out a breath, surprised. "Huh," he mumbled to himself. "This is different."
The house was super quiet. Marcy was already out the door for work. The kitchen clock's ticking seemed really loud, each second just... landing. Eli got some cereal, ate it standing up, and kept waiting for that old feeling to come back. But it didn't.
He finished his breakfast. Still no change. As he was brushing his teeth, it finally hit him – not like a shock, or a huge win, just a simple truth. Whatever had been keeping him steady had stopped, because its job was finished. Not just vanished. Finished.
The feeling came quietly. No voice, no big show. Just a small change, like a door opening inside his mind. Since he came to Hawkins, this was the first time Eli felt... noticed. Not talked to, exactly, but definitely recognized.
Something seemed to settle in with him – not pushing or holding him back. Just observing, one last look. Then, a change. That constant background control he'd gotten used to – making his emotions smoother, delaying his tiredness, his inner stop-button – it all started to let go. Not suddenly. Gently. Like someone carefully placing something down instead of dropping it. Then came the understanding. Not words, but just knowing. The system had finished its job.
The reason it started – for him to find safety – that was achieved. Not perfect or forever safety. But good enough. A steady place. Friends he could count on. Somewhere he wouldn't be instantly hurt or taken. That was the point where it began. This is the end.
And with that, came a final gift. Not an order. Not something he *had* to do. A choice. Three clear ideas landed in his mind, sitting next to each other, none more important than the others.
Quick Learner
Telekinesis
Regeneration
Eli closed his eyes, not feeling too much, but wanting to really sense the differences without anything else getting in the way. Moving things with his mind was clear. It was outward power. Quick, noticeable, and messy in a big way. He could already picture the trouble it would bring – not just 'what if,' but real-world problems. Healing himself was more subtle. Harder to spot. A backup plan. Something that cleaned up messes after they happened. And then the first one. Learning fast didn't even feel like power.
It felt more like... a green light. The explanation was simple, almost blunt. He'd learn things way, way faster. He'd spot patterns quicker. His body would remember movements in a flash. Some stuff he could never do before, might now be possible. No specific list. No promises. No clue what "impossible" even meant anymore. Just possibilities.
Eli let out a soft chuckle. "Of course," he murmured.
He didn't walk around anxiously. He didn't stress out. He just sat on his bed and thought about his past – not his current life, but the one he suddenly remembered. Because the memories came right then. Not all at once, overwhelming. Not painful. Just... there.
His old life didn't erase his new one. It just settled underneath it. Faces came first. A mom who laughed with everything she had. A dad who thought too much and talked too little. Dinner arguments that just faded into quiet, never solved. Books. So many books. Deep thoughts, history, notebooks filled with unfinished questions. He remembered studying philosophy, wanting to get how things worked. Just to see the boundaries, what was important, and what wasn't.
He also remembered training. Nothing wild. Just martial arts classes. Doing things over and over. Fixing his posture. Being taught that skill wasn't about being strong, but about doing things steadily.
Learning fast wouldn't make him a different person. It would just help him *become* himself, quicker. Moving things with his mind would alter the world outside him. Healing himself would keep him safe from it. But learning fast would change *him*. And he already knew how to work with that. "Yep," Eli said softly. "I'll take that."
His choice didn't come with a big announcement. It just settled in. Something inside him shifted – not growing, not turning on. More like a switch being put in place, but left off, ready for later. That whole 'system' thing hung around for a tiny bit longer. No warning. No goodbye. But Eli understood what it meant. This was it. A farewell. Not like he was being left alone. More like he was being set free.
That steadying pressure totally disappeared. His emotions weren't smoothed out anymore. The last bit of invisible control vanished. For the first time ever, Eli was completely on his own, no longer managed by anything. He took a breath. It felt... ordinary.
When he went outside later, backpack over his shoulder, the world didn't feel heavier or lighter. Just real. School seemed noisier than usual. Or maybe he was just truly hearing it again. Mike saw him first. "Hey, where were you yesterday?" he asked, running over. "You just vanished." "Bad weather," Eli replied. "Didn't feel like it." Lucas squinted a bit. "You look... different." Eli just shrugged. "Got a haircut." Dustin frowned. "No, you didn't."
"Exactly." They walked on, their talk naturally turning to Will, to wild guesses and silly ideas and that kind of innocent hope kids have because they haven't learned the price yet. Then Mike paused. "Oh. Um. There's someone we want you to meet."
A girl stepped out from behind them. Shaved head. Jacket way too big. Her eyes were super sharp, not at all like a kid her size. She watched Eli, like she was trying to figure out if he was dangerous or just something to understand.
"This is Eleven," Mike quickly explained. "She's not a big talker." Eleven tipped her head a little. Eli felt it right away. Not a push. Not just a look. It was recognition. Whatever had been messing with him during the storm? Whatever that 'system' was worried about? It was nearby now. But for the first time, nothing was pulling at his instincts. No inner force keeping him frozen.
Just a clear understanding. Eli gave a small, genuine smile. Not holding back. Not faking it. "Hey," he said. "I'm Eli." Eleven looked at him for a long moment. Then, softly, she nodded. And something in the world changed – not with a bang, not a disaster. Just enough to make a difference.