The class had ended, but most of the students lingered in the room, their curiosity piqued after the lecture. The talk about Yellow and Blue Talents had stirred excitement and wild speculation among the kids.
Aiden leaned back in his seat, arms crossed. He stayed quiet, but he listened carefully.
Across the room, Reno was the first to speak.
"I want a Talent that lets me control lightning," he said proudly. "Not like a Pikachu or something small. I mean real lightning—city-destroying storms. I bet that's at least a Yellow level!"
One of the girls rolled her eyes. "You'd electrocute yourself in five minutes."
Another student, Mira, chimed in, more thoughtful. "I think I'd want a healing-type Talent. Maybe something that lets me restore injuries just by touching people. My brother broke his arm last year… I felt so useless."
Some nodded in agreement. Healing Talents were rare and respected. But they were also very difficult to train with.
Kai, the class know-it-all, leaned forward. "Statistically, we'll all get White or Green level Talents at most. Only one person in this class has even a 10% chance of getting Yellow."
The room went quiet for a moment.
Aiden felt several glances drift his way. They didn't know, of course. No one did. But he always gave off an unshakable confidence — one that made people assume things.
Reno elbowed Aiden.
"What about you, Aiden? If you could choose… what kind of Talent would you want?"
Aiden glanced sideways, his voice calm but unreadable.
"I don't know," he said. "Maybe something that lets me protect people… or burn down anyone who tries to take them away."
The room was silent again.
Mira blinked. "That's… oddly specific."
Aiden gave a half-smile, but said nothing more.
⸻
A Teacher's Interjection
Ms. Kirei returned briefly to pick up her tablet. She overheard the last part of their conversation and paused.
"Be careful wishing for power," she said without looking at anyone in particular. "Sometimes the world grants it… but only after it takes something else away."
The students looked at each other, a little uneasy.
And then the bell rang again, signaling their next lesson.
Aiden stood up, slinging his bag over his shoulder. His mind was already elsewhere — focused on training, preparation, and the memory of his parents' lifeless bodies. He had power now. He just needed time to master it.