Another envelope. Another letter. Junk mail. More garbage.
Paper fluttered to the hardwood floor like defeated birds as Max sifted through the towering stack of mail spread across the dining table.
"Max stop throwing trash all over my damn floor!" his father snapped from behind a newspaper.
"Mmhm. Sorry Father. I'll clean it when I'm done." Max muttered, eyes scanning the latest envelope.
Another acceptance letter. Another perfect offer.
Max wasn't just any college applicant he was the applicant. Every school, internship, and research program Earth could offer had stamped his name with approval. Harvard, MIT, Stanford, Oxford some Max had never even heard of until the envelope arrived.
He tossed another one aside.
"What an interesting boy I've raised." His mother muttered as she sifted through discarded envelopes, opening one with unnecessary dramatic flourish. "I cannot believe you are throwing away acceptance letters. Pick one, Max. Any one. Or you won't be living here much longer."
Her tone was half a joke, half threat he could feel it.
Max barely heard her. His mind was elsewhere somewhere far past the ivy-covered walls and prestigious programs. Why study what I already know? Why waste years being taught by people I'm already smarter than?
The thought came not as arrogance but as fact. A dull fact. A boring one.
He stood abruptly, scoffing under his breath, and left the dining room. His parents bickering began immediately his future, his responsibility, his wasted intelligence. A predictable script.
By the time he reached his bedroom door at the top of the stairs, their voices had faded to a distant buzz.
His hand touched the doorknob and froze.
A chill shot through him like ice threading into his veins. Goosebumps rippled across his arms. His breath cut short.
Something felt wrong.
"…Why do I feel like my body wants to run away from my own room?" he whispered.
He pushed the door open slowly.
Moonlight spilled across the floor in cold silver patterns. His window was closed when he left earlier now it stood wide open. A breeze swept through, but instead of warm summer air, it carried something sharp and heavy. Something that wasn't weather.
Ominous.
"They said it was supposed to be warm tonight…" Max murmured, stepping inside.
His foot struck something solid and unexpected.
He stumbled and fell face-first onto his bed.
"What the?" He turned, peering over the edge. A box sat on the floor where his foot had caught. A plain box. No brand, no markings.
Someone had entered his locked room, taken nothing… and left that.
Common sense screamed one thing. Throw it away.
So Max did exactly that.
He grabbed the box, marched to the window, and threw it outside. It crashed through tree branches and hit the ground with a heavy, dull THUD far heavier than cardboard should sound.
He frowned. But turned away.
Two steps toward his light switch then his foot hit something again.
Max tripped forward and slammed into his own bedroom door, leaving a dent. Pain shot through his skull and spine.
He groaned, then froze.
The box was back.
Right where it had been.
A cold wave of dread rolled through him. His heart pounding, but something else stirred too something sharper and more dangerous:
Curiosity.
He approached the box slowly. His name was written neatly on top, followed by his exact address.
And then, below that it said. Upstairs bedroom. Right side
A chill lingered at the back of his neck.
"Exact directions?"
Someone didn't just send this to him they tracked him. They wanted him. They knew exactly where he slept.
He should run. He should scream. He should fetch his parents.
But instead
He smiled.
For the first time today, something finally didn't feel predictable.
Max inhaled deeply and lifted the lid.
Inside lay a single object.
A bracelet.
"That's it? Seriously?" Max scoffed. "Great prank."
He dropped the box on his desk and sat, staring.
The bracelet twitched.
Max froze.
It rolled once. Then again flipping itself upright.
He stumbled backward, chair tipping, and crashed onto the carpet. Pain thudded through him—but curiosity held him still.
The bracelet floated.
Lifted.
Turned.
Then launched at him.
"WHAT? No! Wait!"
It clamped onto his right wrist like molten metal. Pain exploded through his nerves burning, tearing, like his flesh was dissolving and regrowing all at once. Wires burrowed beneath his skin, threading themselves into muscle, bone, veins. His hand shook violently as heat seared through him.
Max clamped a hand over his mouth, forcing back a scream that clawed at his throat. He could hear his parents still arguing downstairs oblivious.
The pain reached a breaking point then stopped.
Silence.
Max gasped for breath, staring at the strange metal fused seamlessly into his arm.
A voice not spoken aloud, but inside his mind echoed clearly.
Congratulations, Max. You have been accepted.
Max stared at his transformed wrist heart pounding, breath shaking yet his eyes burned not with fear, but with something else.
Finally…
Something interesting.