Aryan sat on the edge of the curb, his head spinning. The events of the day felt like a fever dream. The strange encounter with those men, his power manifesting out of nowhere, and that boy—he couldn't get any of it to make sense. Was it all just a fluke? His power, the ice, then the Anti Pluse... None of it added up. But something about it all felt important.
"Hey."
A voice pierced through his foggy thoughts. Aryan looked up, blinking, trying to focus. Standing a few feet away was a boy around his age, his eyes sharp and calculating. The boy looked calm, almost too calm, given what had just happened. He wasn't like the others—there was no fear in him. No hesitation. Only curiosity.
"I saw what you did," the boy said, his voice cool and steady.
Aryan furrowed his brow. "What? I don't understand what you're talking about."
The boy stepped closer, his expression unreadable. "I think you don't understand what you've achieved." He paused, watching Aryan carefully. "Maybe it was just a coincidence... but what you did was beyond what most people could even imagine."
Aryan shook his head, confusion still clouding his mind. "I don't know what you're saying."
The boy's lips twitched, like he was trying to decide whether or not to reveal something to Aryan. Finally, he spoke, his tone more serious now.
"Listen. I think you're going to need help. And I think you can help me, too." He hesitated, his eyes locking with Aryan's. "Will you join me?"
Aryan's heart raced, but he kept his expression neutral. "Join you? Why the hell would I do that? What's in it for me?"
The boy didn't immediately respond. He seemed to be considering Aryan's words, as though weighing whether or not to tell him more. Finally, he gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. "Maybe you're not ready to understand yet. But when the time comes, you'll know."
Aryan scoffed and turned away, feeling the weight of the situation pressing in on him. He didn't need anyone. He was just fine alone—at least that's what he kept telling himself.
But the boy's words haunted him as he made his way back home. Something about him, the way he spoke, made Aryan feel like he was on the verge of discovering something huge. Something that could change everything. But he couldn't shake the feeling that if he got involved, there would be no turning back.
When Aryan reached the front door of the small house he called home, the first thing he noticed was the silence. The kind of silence that felt unnatural, like it was trying to smother everything in its path. He frowned. It wasn't the usual silence—the kind that came with the stillness of late night. No, this was... different.
He pushed open the door, but the sight that greeted him froze him in place.
Blood.
Everywhere.
The floor was soaked, a trail leading through the narrow hallway. His heart slammed against his chest as panic gripped him. "Grandpa!" he shouted, his voice cracking.
He stumbled forward, barely able to keep his legs under him, his mind refusing to process what his eyes were seeing. The blood was thick, pooling in every corner. He rushed into the living room, his breath catching in his throat.
And there, in the middle of the room, lay his grandfather—his body mutilated beyond recognition. His head was severed from his shoulders, lying in a pool of crimson, while the rest of him was torn apart in a way that made Aryan's stomach churn. The stench of death hung in the air, suffocating him.
Aryan's legs gave out beneath him. He collapsed to the floor, a scream tearing from his throat as he crawled to his grandfather's lifeless form. His hands shook as they touched his grandpa's cold, bloody body, unable to believe what he was seeing. This wasn't death. This was... something else. It was torture. It was vengeance.
Tears flooded Aryan's eyes, blurring his vision as his heart broke all over again. His grandpa—his last family—was gone, but not peacefully. He had been murdered in the most brutal way possible.
"I... I was too late," Aryan whispered, his voice breaking as he wept. The world around him felt like it was collapsing. His heart shattered into a million pieces as he clutched his grandfather's body, the weight of his loss more than he could bear.
In that moment, something inside Aryan cracked. He had nothing left. No family. No home. He was alone in a world that had never cared for him, and now, it seemed like it had taken everything he had left.
His thoughts wandered back to the boy—the one who had seen him. The one who knew something about his powers. Could he help Aryan now? Would he even want to?
But right now, Aryan didn't care about any of that. All that mattered was the overwhelming grief that crushed him, the realization that his life had just spiraled even further into chaos.
And as he sat there, holding his grandfather's lifeless body, he knew that nothing would ever be the same again.
End of Chapter 4.