"John, have you really generated a Neuro Core?" Luna's voice broke the silence of the hallway as she turned to face him, her eyes wide with a mixture of awe and disbelief. Her tone hovered somewhere between shock and wonder, the kind that only someone close to you could express when faced with the impossible.
John stood there, keys still in hand, his body barely past the threshold of their new apartment. He nodded faintly, offering no grand explanation. The truth was still settling within him, like ripples in a still pond disturbed by a sudden drop.
They had just returned home—a word that had recently taken on new meaning for John. "Home" was no longer the cramped, half-forgotten room in a distant boarding hostel. It was now this spacious, sunlit flat owned by his older sister—a sanctuary in the chaos of the city. The soft hum of the ceiling fan, the clean scent of freshly mopped floors, and the faint echo of Luna's footsteps down the hallway filled him with a quiet sense of relief.
No longer would he have to worry about nosy hostel roommates or teachers who paid too much attention. No more explaining where he'd been all night or why his shoes were muddy at sunrise. Here, in this place, his secret could live undisturbed. His room had a sturdy, lockable door—a simple thing, yet a powerful shield. He could slip out under the cover of night, vanish into the unknown, and return just before dawn. By the time the world awoke, he'd be back in bed or brushing his teeth, just another boy getting ready for the day. No one would suspect a thing.
He glanced at the clock. Still time.
His first order of business, however, wasn't training or testing his newfound power—it was something older, more human. A promise he had made, buried deep in his heart, now rose to the surface.
He left the apartment and made his way through the bustling lanes of the city until he reached a large local shop. The aisles were bright, brimming with possibilities. Without hesitation, he began to fill his cart: a variety of fish packed in ice, glistening under the store lights; baskets of ripe, colorful fruits; and other rich, nourishing provisions. He picked each item with care, imagining how the recipients would react.
His next destination was a place that felt strangely like home too—his school. But this time, it wasn't for class or friends. He went straight to the backyards and hidden corners where he'd once encountered the animals—those mysterious creatures that had responded to his call when no one else could. Their eyes had met his not with fear, but with understanding. They had stepped forward in his hour of need, not because he commanded them, but because they believed in him. That, more than anything, had meant the world.
He remembered his silent vow: If you help me, I'll feed you. Not scraps. Not leftovers. But real, expensive food. The kind you deserve.
As he unwrapped the bags and laid out the feast, a deep sense of satisfaction warmed him. The animals approached slowly at first, cautious, but then, recognizing him, their movements quickened with joy. They ate eagerly, trusting him completely.
John watched them, silent and still. He didn't need to speak. His actions were louder than any words.
After a while, he gave a small nod, a quiet goodbye, and turned to leave, letting them enjoy the meal in peace.
The sun had begun to dip low in the sky, casting golden shadows on the school walls as he walked away, not just a boy with secrets—but one who kept his promises.