"Tch, Ms. Nandini, everyone knows that's impossible. In just two months he'll be in Class 12—unless he repeats the year, there's no way he can catch up," Raghav and Ritika sneered, shrugging their shoulders as they spoke.
Ansh ignored the taunts of the two and sat there, slightly dazed. His thoughts lingered on his palm. Just moments ago, the test paper had clung to it as if glued—how could it suddenly come free so easily?
"Wait… what is this?"
He lowered his gaze and froze. The familiar lines of his skin were no longer normal. Faint golden patterns had appeared, glowing softly like ancient script etched into his flesh. For an instant, tiny thread-like markings spread across his palm, forming intricate shapes that shimmered as though alive. His heart pounded as he watched in disbelief. And then, just as quickly, the light dimmed, and the strange patterns dissolved back into his skin, leaving his palm looking completely ordinary once more.
Why does this feel so familiar? A sudden flash of light crossed Ansh's mind, and his heart skipped a beat, as though he had just remembered something he couldn't believe.
"Ansh?" Ms. Nandini's voice pulled him back.
He blinked and looked at her with a dazed expression, still absent-minded.
"Don't leave yet. Go to the office and wait for me there," Ms. Nandini said, frowning slightly. Seeing his unfocused gaze, a trace of concern flickered in her eyes. He had once been the top student in the grade—she couldn't simply watch him continue to fall like this.
"Oh… okay." Ansh nodded absentmindedly, though his mind was still reeling from the unsettling thought that had crossed him moments ago.
He walked back to his seat in a daze, picked up his schoolbag, and left the classroom under the strange and mocking stares of his classmates.
Seeing his distracted expression, Ms. Nandini could only shake her head softly before turning back to collect the remaining papers. She didn't notice that instead of heading toward the office, Ansh's footsteps carried him straight toward the school gate.
At the same time, a girl sitting by the window rested her chin lightly on her hand, quietly watching Ansh's departing figure.
She was strikingly beautiful, with delicate features and a calm, composed presence that gave her a dignified, almost classical charm. She was Ananya, the class monitor of Class 11, Section A.
"Why…" she murmured softly, confusion flickering in her eyes.
Just a year ago, Ansh's grades had been far beyond her reach, and she had even approached him for help with problems she couldn't solve. But now, he had fallen so far—his marks scraping the bottom, his once confident nature replaced by a withdrawn silence. It was difficult not to feel a trace of pity at the sight.
"In my impression, he never seemed like someone who would give up so easily…" With that thought lingering, Ananya sighed quietly, lowered her gaze, and began packing her schoolbag.
By this time, Ansh had already rushed out of the school gate. He hadn't run this fast in a long time. Ms. Nandini's words about waiting in the office were completely forgotten. He kept running until he reached a deserted alley, where he finally slowed down.
And it was there that he began to notice things—things that left him deeply shaken.
First, it was his hands. The faint golden patterns that had appeared earlier were not an illusion. They carried a strange adhesive force, clinging tightly to anything he touched, yet fading away under his will as if they obeyed his thoughts.
Second, the patterns were extremely fine, like countless threadlike lines etched into his skin. Ordinary people would probably dismiss them as nothing more than specks of dust, but his own eyes saw them clearly—clearer than ever before. In fact, when he raised his gaze to the far corner of the alley, dozens of meters away, he could actually make out the movement of a single ant crawling on the wall.
And third—he thought back to the way he had sprinted. From the school to this alley, he had run at least a kilometer. Yet his chest wasn't heaving, his pulse wasn't racing, and not even a trace of exhaustion lingered in his body. He was perfectly calm, as if the distance had been nothing.
Three discoveries, one after another, made it undeniable. Something immense had changed within him.
And then, as his thoughts churned, that unbelievable guess rose once more in his mind.
"Superpower?" Ansh stared at his hands blankly, whispering in shock and disbelief.
His mind flashed to the superhero movies he had watched growing up. In those stories, ordinary people were changed overnight—bitten by a creature, struck by lightning, exposed to some experiment—and soon after, incredible powers awakened within them. What he was experiencing now felt eerily similar.
But… could it really be possible? Those were only movies, works of fiction created for people's imagination. How could abilities that belonged to superheroes on a screen suddenly appear in reality—inside him?
What unsettled him even more was the difference in timing. In those movies, the transformation happened within days, powers bursting out dramatically. But for him, it had been months of confusion—endless exhaustion, collapsing grades, the mocking stares of classmates, even his appearance turning pale and unhealthy.
"What's happening to me?" Ansh muttered uneasily. Anyone would feel worried after finding something abnormal in their own body, but when those abnormalities hinted at some kind of superpower, it was impossible not to feel a surge of excitement as well.
He suddenly remembered an unfinished building nearby, a place so remote that hardly anyone ever passed through.
So he broke into a run again, pushing himself with all his strength—yet there was no trace of exhaustion. On the contrary, his body felt light, as though at any moment he might lift off the ground and soar.
The sensation was exhilarating.
It was as if all the frustration and gloom that had weighed him down for the past year finally had a release and slowly melting away.