Sarina Pov
Three years ago, I stood at the center of an empty warehouse, hidden from the eyes of the world.
It was night.
That mattered.
Humans slept better when they didn't know how close danger truly was.
I wore a hood then, not because I needed to hide—but because they did not need to know who I was. Lumina was a name of balance, not a face to worship.
They arrived one by one.
Chosen not by strength.
Not by anger.
Not by fear.
But by instinct.
Lukas came first.
He was nervous, trying not to show it. A normal human boy with scraped knuckles and fire burning quietly behind his eyes—not literal fire yet, just the potential for it.
Then Luna.
Focused. Observant. Already thinking three steps ahead of everyone else.
Then the others—each different, each human, each carrying a spark they didn't yet understand.
They looked at one another, recognizing something familiar.
You feel it too, their eyes said.
I watched from the shadows.
They knew each other's names.
They knew each other's faces.
They would soon know each other's secrets.
But they would never know mine.
"Why are we here?" someone asked.
Lukas glanced around, then spoke, voice steady despite the tension. "Someone called us. Someone who knows."
Silence followed.
That was when I stepped forward.
The air changed instantly.
Not violently.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
"You are here," I said, my voice calm, controlled, "because the world is approaching a fracture."
They turned toward me.
They couldn't see my face clearly—only light shifting unnaturally around me, refusing to settle.
"You are human," I continued. "And you will remain human."
Relief flickered across a few faces.
"But you have been chosen," I said. "To protect what cannot protect itself."
Luna spoke softly. "Chosen by who?"
I didn't answer directly.
"Tonight," I said, "you will be given a choice. Walk away and forget this place ever existed—or step forward and never be ordinary again."
No one moved.
Good.
I lifted my hand.
The light responded immediately.
Not blinding.
Not painful.
Warm.
Controlled.
"I will awaken what already exists inside you," I said. "Your powers will differ, but your purpose will be the same."
My gaze shifted to Lukas.
"Fire," I said.
The word wasn't loud—but it commanded reality.
Flames bloomed around his hands, curling upward like living things—bright, controlled, obedient.
Lukas gasped, stumbling back. "I— I'm not burning."
"Because it answers to you," I said. "Not the other way around."
His breathing steadied as understanding settled in. The fire dimmed, then vanished at his will.
At the same moment—
Light exploded across the room.
One by one, the others awakened.
Energy surged.
Air bent.
Shadows sharpened.
Different powers.
Same moment.
No delay.
No hierarchy.
They cried out—not in pain, but shock.
Then silence.
They stared at one another, awe slowly replacing fear.
"This is real," someone whispered.
"Yes," I said.
They began talking over each other.
"You can do that too?"
"I felt it—like something unlocked."
"My name can't be used in public. Ever."
"We protect each other. Agreed?"
They were already forming bonds.
Already becoming a team.
Good.
Lukas stepped forward, fire flickering faintly around his fingers. "You gave us this."
"I awakened it," I corrected.
"Who are you?" Luna asked.
I paused.
That question mattered.
"You may call me," I said, "Lumina."
Only the name.
Never the truth.
"You will know each other," I continued. "Your strengths. Your weaknesses. Your identities."
I looked at each of them in turn.
"But you will never know mine."
They accepted that faster than expected.
Humans didn't need gods.
They needed guidance.
"You train," I said. "You protect. You hide in plain sight."
"And if monsters come?" Lukas asked.
"They will," I replied calmly.
He clenched his fists.
"Then we fight," he said.
I allowed myself a small smile—hidden beneath light.
Three years ago, they became superheroes.
Three years ago, Lukas became fire.
And three years ago, the world unknowingly gained its defenders.
Now-
The time had arrived for them to be seen