Shanghai wasn't supposed to feel this cold in March, but maybe it wasn't the weather. The sky hung low with clouds like damp wool, and all the towers and digital billboards looked muted, as if the whole city had hit the dimmer switch.
I stood just outside a modern café near Jing'an Temple, watching the reflection of a girl I knew too well through the glass. Her name was Yao Lin. She had the kind of smile that softened you, and a voice that could coax a laugh out of a dying man. Or used to. Today, she wouldn't even meet my eyes.
The moment I stepped inside, I knew. Something was already off. Her coffee cup was still half-full, barely touched. Her eyes were puffy. Not from crying—but from a lack of sleep, like this conversation had been rehearsed in her head too many times.
"Sorry I called you all the way here," she said, fingers wrapped around her phone like it was a lifeline. "I just… I didn't want to do this over text."
Her voice was soft, and she spoke Mandarin with that effortless tone of someone born and raised in the city, but there was no warmth in it. None left for me.
"You're breaking up with me."
It wasn't a question. I could see it in the way her shoulders tensed, like hearing it out loud made her shrink an inch.
"I didn't want to. I really didn't," she said. "But I have to think about my future, Tianlei. Don't you get that?"
I nodded slowly. I didn't trust myself to speak yet. My throat had gone dry. My fingers itched. Something deep inside me wanted to lash out, to yell, to say something cruel just to match the sting she left in my chest.
But I didn't. I just looked at her, and asked the only thing I still didn't understand.
"Is it because I didn't awaken?"
Yao Lin didn't answer. She didn't have to.
She shifted uncomfortably, gaze dropping to the cup between us.
"You're still young. Maybe it'll happen later," she said. "But… I can't keep waiting. People are already forming teams. Joining guilds. Ming just cleared a C-rank Rift outside Suzhou."
"Ming?" I said, blinking. "Zhou Ming?"
She flinched. And that was all I needed.
"He's a B-rank," she added quickly, like that explained everything.
It did.
A week ago, I watched Zhou Ming launch a firebolt across an alley in a livestream. He was already being scouted by one of the mid-tier guilds, probably the Thunder Fangs or East Nine Division. I remembered how Yao Lin laughed at his stupid jokes in our friend group chat. How she used to roll her eyes when he flexed in selfies. But now, I guess he'd flexed just the right amount.
"You're leaving me," I said slowly, "because you think I'll always be normal."
"I'm leaving because I want to survive," she snapped. "You think I don't see what's coming? This world isn't kind to people without abilities anymore. Look around you. The government's fast-tracking licenses, guilds are recruiting awakened people at sixteen. Even my cousin got her skill last month and she's still in high school!"
I swallowed, trying not to look away.
"You don't love me anymore."
She hesitated. For a heartbeat, something softened in her eyes. But then it vanished.
"I'm sorry."
That was all.
She stood, took her coat, and walked out. And that was it. No hug. No final words. Just a chair scraping back against the floor and a doorbell chime as she left.
She didn't even look back.
I walked the city for hours afterward. Through alleyways that smelled like old oil and baozi, past couples on electric scooters and students laughing on corners. I turned my phone off when the first message came through.
[Sorry.]
I didn't need to read the rest. I didn't want apologies. Not when the silence in my chest had already swallowed the sound of her voice.
It started to drizzle sometime around seven. Not heavy enough to flood the roads, but enough that I had to tuck my hoodie up tighter. The neon signs turned everything blurry—red halos, streaks of blue and purple bouncing off puddles. I stopped at a food stall in Xuhui and bought a skewer of grilled squid I didn't taste. I sat on the back steps of an old pharmacy with peeling red paint, watching people pass by with their umbrellas and worries and happy endings.
And I sat like that until I couldn't ignore the ache in my knees anymore.
By the time I climbed the narrow stairwell up to my apartment—sixth floor, no elevator—my feet felt like bricks. I paused on the fifth landing, catching my breath. My neighbor, Lao Wei, opened his door just then and gave me a half-nod through a cloud of cigarette smoke. He didn't speak. He never did. I just nodded back and kept going.
Home smelled like dust and old instant noodles.
I threw off my wet clothes, changed into track pants, and collapsed into my creaky futon. The lights buzzed faintly overhead, but I didn't bother turning them off. I lay there, staring at the ceiling like it held answers. Nothing did.
My phone buzzed again. This time, I looked.
Not Yao Lin.
Just a headline in one of the Hunter forums I followed.
[NEW DATA: 1 in 500 People in China Now Awakened – Where Does That Leave the Rest of Us?]
I didn't even open it. I knew what it would say.
"Train harder."
"Stay hopeful."
"Awakenings can still come late."
"Try eating more chili peppers."
"Try meditating under a full moon."
"Try believing."
Bullshit.
I'd tried. I'd tried it all.
Meditation. Focus training. Those damn crystal exposure sessions.
Hell, I even bought a shady bottle of 'Ability Activator Pills' off some guy in a WeChat group. They gave me a rash for three days and nothing else.
And now, what was left? Just me. Unawakened. Unloved. Unemployed, technically. And apparently, unable to even keep the one person who used to see something in me.
I looked at my hand.
"Snap skill, huh?" I muttered, half-laughing at myself.
There was a dumb online joke going around lately—about the weakest abilities ever awakened. One guy could whistle and turn milk sour. Another could summon a paperclip once per day. Someone else said he could change the color of streetlights… but only to orange.
It made people laugh. It made me feel worse. Because even those guys had awakened.
I raised my hand and stared at my fingers.
Then, just for the hell of it—I snapped.
Click.
It echoed softly in the room. Nothing happened, of course. Why would it?
I turned to the side, pulled the blanket over my head, and closed my eyes.
I didn't know what time it was when I woke up.
The room was dark. The hum of the fan had stopped. Everything felt… off.
Heavier.
And then, in the corner of my vision—like a glitch in reality—I saw it.
A faint blue glow. Hovering just above my hand.
[SYSTEM INITIALIZED]
[User Identified: FENG TIANLEI]
[Unique Skill: SNAP]
[Rank: ???]
I sat up so fast I hit my head on the shelf above my futon.
The glow didn't fade.
I blinked hard, rubbing my eyes.
"What the…"
It was a screen. Floating in mid-air. Transparent. Holographic, but not like anything I'd seen in VR or gaming tech. This wasn't projected from a phone or headset. It was there, in my mind, and yet it wasn't. It was real.
[Skill Details Available Upon Use.]
[Activation Method: Snap Fingers + Command Word + Target Line-of-Sight]
I stared at the screen for a long minute.
Then slowly looked at my hand again.
My fingers trembled slightly.
Not from fear.
From hope.
No.
Something deeper than hope.
This wasn't a dream. This wasn't a prank. No one had hacked my brain.
It was happening.
I stood up and looked around my room for something small, something harmless.
There—an empty instant noodle cup on the floor near my backpack.
I bent down. Placed it on the metal sink.
Raised my hand.
Felt my throat go dry.
"Explode."
Snap.
For half a second, nothing happened.
Then—
BOOM.
A sharp crack filled the air, like a firecracker going off in a glass box. The cup was gone. Bits of scorched plastic stuck to the steel sink, some still smoking.
My mouth fell open. I stumbled back, chest heaving, eyes darting.
That wasn't a hallucination. I didn't imagine it.
I didn't light it on fire. There were no lighters. No fuel.
Just—
A snap.
A command.
A miracle.
I looked down at my fingers. The faint smell of smoke still clung to the air. I could feel the pulse in my wrist pounding like a war drum.
"Holy shit…"
I backed up, almost tripping over my own blanket. My mind spun, racing through possibilities, implications, questions. How strong was it? What were the limits? Was there a cooldown? Could it affect living things?
Could it affect people?
The blue screen pulsed again.
[Note: Skill Power Scales With Intent.]
[Caution: Please Use Responsibly.]
My lips parted.
I wasn't normal anymore.
I wasn't weak.
I wasn't nothing.
And Yao Lin?
She'd left me thinking I was powerless.
But now—
They'd all know what it meant to hear a snap.