Osiris Velmora woke up to the sharp smell of antiseptic and the cold sting of metal pressing against his skin.
Again.
His arm was strapped down to the gurney in the basement clinic, needle already in his vein. The drip bag hanging above him pulsed red with his own blood—slow, steady, and routine. He was used to it by now. Used to the dizziness, the cold sweat, the forced stillness.
Across the room, the family's real son—Jarell—was lounging in a mana-regeneration pod, scrolling through his Holocomm with a smirk plastered on his face. He had the good blood. Osiris's blood.
"You're awake," said Madam Velmora, stepping in with her heels clicking like a countdown. "Be grateful. Your blood is keeping your brother alive."
Osiris smiled. That same soft, practiced smile he always used.
"Of course, ma'am."
Because what else was he supposed to say? That he knew why they adopted him? That he figured it out the day they praised his rare blood type but flinched when he asked about school or his own mana training?
No. Smiling was easier.
Everyone in the city had mana. Even toddlers were throwing fireballs and shielding themselves from scraped knees. But Osiris? He couldn't even light a match with his fingers. No abilities. No "awakening." Just control. Freakish mana control with nothing to cast. Like a soldier with no weapon—just target practice for everyone else.
At school, he was the quiet one. The one with bandages he said came from "training accidents." The one who always said he was fine. Who smiled when the teachers asked too many questions, smiled when the other kids mocked his "useless" existence, smiled when his bones ached from whatever the Velmoras took from him the night before.
That smile was all he had.
Even when he wanted to scream. Even when he wanted to die.
_____
That night, Osiris limped back to his room—more like a closet with a bed. He locked the door out of habit, even though it never made much difference.
He sat down, hands trembling slightly, the dizziness still in his bones from the blood loss. He stared at the wall. Blank, beige, lifeless.
A flicker of light buzzed from his tablet. A notification:
> "Mana Progress Reports: 97% of students in Sector 4 have awakened!"
He laughed. A bitter, dry laugh.
He threw the tablet across the room. It hit the wall and cracked, but didn't shatter. Of course not. Nothing ever broke the way he wanted it to.
Then, something strange happened. His fingers brushed over the small mana crystal necklace he kept hidden under his shirt—worthless, really. Couldn't channel anything through it. But it pulsed tonight. Just once. Just enough to make him freeze.
He sat up straighter. The pulse faded.
Must be the exhaustion, he thought. Hallucinations. Wouldn't be the first time.
Outside, the city buzzed with life—neon signs, floating transports, mana-run tech lighting up the night sky. Inside, Osiris stared at his reflection in the cracked mirror.
He looked... normal. But not human. Not anymore.
His green eyes were dull, but they held something behind them. Something dangerous. The kind of look you see in the eyes of someone who's lost too much and survived anyway.
Still, he smiled.
"I'm okay," he whispered to himself, because no one else would.
That night, the sky split open.
A ripple tore across the clouds—silent at first, then deafening. Lights flickered. Mana veins in the city's infrastructure sparked and surged. People screamed. Panic spread like wildfire.
Osiris watched from his window, unmoving.
Something ancient had cracked awake. Something worse than war.
He should've been afraid.
But instead, for the first time in his life, he stopped smiling.
And the world started burning.
Osiris stood at the window as mana veins exploded like nerves across the skyline. Blue flares surged through the air, lighting up the night like a twisted aurora. Then came the sound. Deep. Low. Wrong. Like the earth itself groaned in protest.
The building shook. Sirens howled through the district. Someone downstairs was already screaming. Another followed. Then dozens.
Osiris didn't move.
The air felt... dense. Like something ancient was pressing down on his chest. He reached up slowly, almost instinctively, and clutched the crystal at his neck.
Again—it pulsed. Stronger this time. Like it was breathing.
And so was he.
The pain that usually sat coiled behind his ribs stirred. But not like before. It didn't ache. It burned.
His vision swam.
The mirror caught him again—his reflection now flickering, distorted by the unstable mana currents outside. His pupils dilated unnaturally. His hands started to tremble.
He backed away from the window just as a surge of light burst across the sky, painting everything in a reddish hue. A star fell.
No. That wasn't a star.
That was a thing.
A creature, maybe? A mass of light and shadow, screaming as it broke through the clouds like a meteor.
And it was falling. Fast.
Osiris barely had time to react before the shockwave hit.
The windows shattered. The building cracked at its foundation. Mana pulses sent people flying into walls, ceilings, out of windows. Osiris was thrown back, slammed into the far wall of his room, glass biting into his skin.
Silence.
Then—darkness.
---
He came to minutes—or maybe hours—later. The room was destroyed. The building groaned like it was deciding whether to stay standing or collapse entirely. Smoke filled the air, thick and bitter.
His ears rang. His vision swam.
But that wasn't what hit him hardest.
It was the whisper.
Not from outside. From inside.
A low, guttural voice. Ancient. His own voice... but not.
> "Break."
Osiris gasped. His chest spasmed. And suddenly, it did. Something broke.
Not a bone. Not flesh.
Something else.
His veins burned. His vision went black again—but this time, it wasn't unconsciousness.
This time, it was activation.
The first spark of chaotic energy.
Power surged from his core, raw and uncontrolled. The shattered glass around him lifted, suspended mid-air. The lights flickered wildly. The mana-reactive walls of the building began to warp. The very air screamed around him.
He didn't know what he was doing. Only that something in him had finally stopped being silent.
And the world was finally listening.