Kai pushed himself up from the scorched ground, his small hands pressing against dirt that was still warm from all the crazy energy that had been floating around. Dust and ash covered his clothes—the nice ones his mom had just washed yesterday.
*Oh no. Mom's gonna kill me.*
He brushed at his shirt, but the gray powder just smeared around, making it worse. Great. Just great.
But then he stopped caring about his dirty clothes because something felt... different.
He looked down at his hands. They looked the same—still small, still five-year-old hands. But when he made a fist, he could *feel* something. Like his fingers were squeezing harder than they should be able to. Like there was more... strength? Inside them?
Kai jumped up and down experimentally.
The ground cracked under his feet.
"Whoa!"
