Aria Vale had always known she was different.
Not in the dramatic, lightning-shooting-from-the-sky way people in movies were different—but in a quieter, more confusing way. The kind of difference that made rooms feel warmer when she laughed, heavier when she cried, and unbearably tense when she was angry.
She just didn't know why.
That morning, the city of Elaris woke up glowing.
Skyscrapers of glass and steel reflected the rising sun, floating trains hummed through the air like metal birds, and holographic ads shimmered above the streets—announcing sales, power rankings, and inter-universal sports updates. In this world, having an ability wasn't special.
Not having one was.
Aria stood on the balcony of her apartment, barefoot, arms resting on the railing as the wind played with her dark curls. Below her, people flew, teleported, sprinted faster than vehicles, or casually bent elements to their will.
She sighed.
"Another beautiful day of everyone being extraordinary except me," she muttered.
Behind her, a voice snorted.
"Please. You're extraordinary at being dramatic."
Aria turned, rolling her eyes as Milo Spark sprawled across her couch, upside down, one leg hanging off the armrest. Blue sparks danced lazily between his fingers as if electricity itself found him amusing.
"Do that outside," Aria said. "You'll fry my furniture."
Milo grinned. "Relax. Controlled output. I'm a professional."
"You got banned from three training zones."
"Unfairly," he corrected. "They said 'no high-speed electrical pranks.' Since when is joy illegal?"
Aria laughed despite herself—and the moment she did, the tension in the room seemed to lift. The flickering lights steadied. The air felt… lighter.
Milo didn't notice.
She did.
Aria's smile slowly faded.
She'd felt it again.
That strange ripple. That invisible shift that always followed her emotions.
She grabbed her jacket. "Come on. We'll be late."
"Late for what?" Milo flipped upright in a blur of sparks. "You mean another day of you pretending you don't feel the universe breathing when you're sad?"
She froze.
"What?"
Milo blinked. "I—uh—figure of speech."
Aria studied him, her heart thudding. "Say that again."
He laughed awkwardly. "Okay, wow. Someone woke up sensitive today."
She didn't push it, but unease crawled down her spine.
Because he wasn't wrong.
The Elaris Power Academy towered over the city like a blade aimed at the sky.
Students gathered in clusters—some glowing, some floating, some sparring mid-air as if gravity was optional. Aria walked among them, hands in her pockets, feeling like a ghost passing through a world that refused to see her.
She was registered powerless.
At least, that's what the system said.
"Aria!"
A girl leaped toward her, landing perfectly without a sound. Zee Lunara, dressed in her usual oversized jacket and confident grin, hooked an arm around Aria's shoulders.
"You look like you're about to emotionally combust," Zee said cheerfully. "On a scale of one to multiversal meltdown, where are we?"
"Solid six," Aria replied. "Maybe seven."
Zee nodded seriously. "Valid."
As they walked, Aria felt it again—that tug in her chest. A pull. Like something far away was trying to remember her.
Then—
The air cracked.
Not thunder. Not sound.
Reality itself seemed to stutter.
Everyone stopped.
A ripple tore through the sky above the academy, like glass struck by an invisible hammer. Purple light bled through the裂, and the ground trembled.
Students screamed.
"Barrier breach!" someone shouted.
Aria's heart slammed against her ribs.
And then—she saw him.
He stepped out of the tear like he belonged there.
Tall. Dark-clad. His presence felt heavy, ancient—like gravity had learned a new meaning just for him. His eyes, sharp and silver, scanned the surroundings with cold precision… until they landed on her.
Time stopped.
The noise faded. The panic blurred.
It was just them.
Something inside Aria broke open.
Her chest burned, her vision swam—and for reasons she couldn't explain, tears filled her eyes.
The man stiffened.
"…Aria," he whispered.
Her knees nearly gave out.
"How do you know my name?" she breathed.
His jaw clenched like he'd said too much.
Before he could answer, alarms blared and armed guardians swarmed the courtyard.
"INTRUDER!"
"SECURE THE RIFT!"
The man didn't look away from her.
Not even when energy cannons aimed at his chest.
"Not yet," he murmured—more to himself than to her. "I was too early."
Then, softer. Almost broken.
"I found you again."
And he vanished.
The rift sealed itself with a thunderous snap.
Silence crashed down.
Aria collapsed to her knees, gasping, her hands shaking violently.
Around her, students shouted, guardians barked orders—but none of it mattered.
Because her heart was screaming one truth louder than anything else.
She didn't know that man.
But her soul did.
And somewhere far beyond this universe, something had just begun to move.
Aria didn't remember falling unconscious.
One moment she was on her knees in the academy courtyard, her heart hammering like it wanted to escape her chest, the echo of that stranger's voice still ringing in her ears—
I found you again.
—and the next, she was floating in darkness.
Not asleep.
Not awake.
Somewhere in between.
She felt… warm.
Wrapped in something familiar. Something safe. Like arms she had leaned into a thousand times before—even though she couldn't remember whose they were.
A voice whispered her name.
Not loud.
Not urgent.
Just soft enough to break her heart.
"Aria…"
She stirred.
When she opened her eyes, white light greeted her.
The academy infirmary smelled faintly of antiseptic and ozone, the air humming with low-level energy fields. Transparent medical screens hovered beside the bed, displaying her vitals in calm blue lines.
She blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Her body felt heavy, like she'd cried for hours—except she couldn't remember crying.
"You're awake."
Aria turned her head.
Milo sat on the chair beside her bed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. For once, there were no sparks dancing around him. His usual grin was gone, replaced by something tight and worried.
Her throat felt dry. "How long?"
"About… three hours." He exhaled. "You scared the hell out of us."
"Us?"
"As in me, Zee, half the academy, and approximately every security unit in a five-mile radius."
Memories rushed back all at once.
The rift.
The man.
The way the world had stopped when their eyes met.
Her pulse spiked, and the monitors beeped faster.
"Hey—hey," Milo said quickly, standing. "Calm down. Doctors said your emotions are… uh… doing something weird to the readings."
Aria swallowed. "What do you mean weird?"
He hesitated.
That scared her more than any answer.
"Milo."
He scratched the back of his neck. "Okay. So. This is the part where I tell you not to freak out."
Her stomach dropped. "I'm already freaking out."
"Right. Valid." He took a breath. "When you collapsed, the energy sensors across the academy spiked."
Aria frowned. "Spiked how?"
"Like… everyone's powers reacted."
Her chest tightened. "That's not possible."
"I know." Milo's voice was quiet. "But it happened. Telepaths lost focus. Gravity manipulators felt heavier. Zee tripped. And I—" He paused. "I couldn't generate a spark for almost ten seconds."
Aria stared at him.
Milo Spark. The guy who literally leaked electricity when he sneezed.
"That's never happened before," he added softly.
The room felt too small.
Too tight.
Aria pushed herself up on her elbows, ignoring the protest from her muscles. "What about the man?"
Milo's eyes sharpened. "What man?"
Her heart skipped. "The one who came through the rift. Tall. Dark clothes. Silver eyes."
Milo's jaw clenched.
"So you did see him," he muttered.
"What do you mean did?" Aria snapped. "Everyone saw him!"
He looked away.
"Milo."
Slowly, reluctantly, he met her gaze. "Not like you did."
Her breath caught. "Explain."
"The rift appeared, yeah. Security confirmed that. But most people saw a distortion. A silhouette at best." He hesitated. "Zee says she saw… static."
Aria's blood ran cold.
"And me?"
"You were staring like he was the only thing in existence."
She whispered, "He said my name."
Milo went very still.
"…He what?"
Before Aria could answer, the infirmary doors slid open.
Zee Lunara walked in, hands shoved into her jacket pockets, her expression unreadable. Behind her, two academy officials hovered, murmuring quietly before leaving the room to the three of them.
Zee's eyes flicked to Aria.
Then softened.
"You look like hell," Zee said gently.
Aria huffed a weak laugh. "You should see the other guy."
Zee smirked, then pulled a chair closer. "Okay. Let's skip the jokes. Tell me everything you remember."
So Aria did.
She told them about the way time had frozen. About the man's eyes. About the name on his lips. About the feeling—deep, bone-deep recognition that made no sense and yet felt more real than anything else in her life.
When she finished, the room was silent.
Zee leaned back slowly. "Well," she said, "that's… concerning."
"That's it?" Aria demanded. "Concerning?"
"Aria," Zee said carefully, "the multiverse theory says there are infinite versions of us. Infinite possibilities. Infinite lives."
Aria nodded. "I know."
"What you described sounds like… entanglement."
Milo frowned. "Like quantum stuff?"
Zee snapped her fingers. "Exactly. Two particles connected across distance. Change one, the other reacts."
Aria's voice shook. "You're saying I'm connected to him."
Zee met her eyes. "I'm saying it's possible you've met him before."
"But I don't remember," Aria whispered.
Zee's expression darkened. "That doesn't mean your soul doesn't."
A chill ran down Aria's spine.
Kael Orion stood on the edge of a shattered world.
Fragments of buildings floated in the air like broken memories, suspended in a sky that glitched between colors. Below him, the ground cracked and reformed endlessly, unable to decide what reality it belonged to.
He clenched his fists.
He was bleeding.
A thin line of red ran down his temple, but he didn't bother wiping it away.
He'd found her.
Again.
Too early.
He turned his head slightly as footsteps approached behind him.
"You shouldn't have gone there," a voice said.
Kael didn't respond.
A woman stepped beside him, her long dark hair flowing unnaturally despite the lack of wind. Her eyes were sharp, calculating—void-black with faint silver rings.
Seraphine Void.
"They're already watching," she continued. "Every rift you open destabilizes the web. You know that."
Kael's jaw tightened. "I don't care."
She studied him. "You always say that."
His voice was cold. "And yet I always win."
Seraphine laughed softly. "Win? Is that what you call it? You find her. You love her. The universe collapses. And you do it all over again."
Kael turned to her then, his silver eyes blazing.
"I will keep doing it," he said. "As long as she exists."
Seraphine's smile faded. "You're breaking the rules."
"There are no rules," Kael snapped. "Only consequences."
"And she is always the consequence," Seraphine replied.
For a moment, something like pain flickered across Kael's face.
"You erased her memories," he said quietly.
Seraphine shrugged. "Not me. The Council."
"You let it happen."
"She was destabilizing too many timelines," Seraphine said coolly. "Her emotions ripple across realities. You've seen it."
Kael looked away, staring at the broken horizon.
"I saw it today," he murmured. "She doesn't know yet. But she felt me."
Seraphine's gaze sharpened. "You spoke to her."
"Yes."
"You said her name."
"Yes."
"You're risking everything."
Kael smiled then—but there was no humor in it.
"I already lost everything," he said. "Every time I lose her."
Seraphine was silent for a long moment.
"…They'll come for her," she said finally.
Kael nodded. "Let them."
Aria couldn't sleep.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw silver.
She slipped out of bed quietly, ignoring the nurses' protests, and made her way to the academy rooftop. The night air was cool, the city glowing beneath her like a living constellation.
She hugged her arms around herself.
"Why do you feel like home?" she whispered to the stars.
Her chest tightened.
Suddenly, the wind shifted.
The air grew heavy.
Aria gasped, clutching her chest as a surge of emotion crashed through her—longing, grief, love so intense it burned.
The lights across the city flickered.
Far away, a bridge trembled.
Aria dropped to her knees.
"No—no—no—" she panted. "Stop—please—"
The pressure vanished instantly.
She stared at her shaking hands.
"…I did that," she whispered.
Behind her, a voice spoke.
"You're not supposed to know yet."
Aria spun around.
He stood a few feet away, shadows clinging to him like a second skin.
Silver eyes.
Her heart shattered and healed all at once.
"You came back," she breathed.
Kael looked at her like she was the reason the universe still existed.
"I always do," he said softly.
And somewhere, deep within the multiverse—
Something ancient and unstoppable awakened.