The afternoon sun poured through the classroom windows, casting long, warm beams across the students practicing their Stellar Core techniques. Energy sparks danced in the air—light, gravity, shadow—each student shaping their own abilities with skill honed over years of training.
Orion sat quietly at the back, coreless, powerless, and painfully aware of every motion around him. Every glance at the glowing hands of his peers reminded him of what he lacked. He tried to focus, pretending to take notes, but his mind kept drifting back to the fleeting instincts of this morning—the tray, the quill, the reflexes that had surprised even himself.
Why am I like this? he wondered. Why do I feel… empty?
A sudden twinge in his chest made him flinch. He gripped the edge of the desk, trying to steady himself. And then it hit: a flash, sharp and vivid, as though reality itself bent for a moment.
He was back on Earth. The classroom, the sounds, the smells—all vanished. He was in a narrow alley, dodging a falling sign. Heat from the fire above licked his skin. Panic, fear, reflexive motion—he moved before he thought, catching a small child who had tripped in the chaos.
The vision vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving Orion gasping for breath in the classroom. His heart raced—not from fear, but from the clarity of instinct he had felt.
That… that wasn't me. Not Orion. That was Kael.
A soft voice interrupted his thoughts. "Are you okay?" Lyra's pale blue eyes studied him, curiosity and concern woven together. She had noticed his abrupt movement during the backflash.
Orion shook his head, forcing a smile. "I… I'm fine. Just… dizzy."
But inside, his mind reeled. He had felt something—something that wasn't supposed to exist. His instincts, his reactions, even the smallest flicker of movement, had come from a memory that wasn't his current life.
He clenched his fists. Could it be a Stellar Core? No… I don't have one. Then what… am I?
The bell rang, signaling the next practical lesson. Orion followed the students into the training yard, keeping his head low. Everyone was already preparing: light manipulation, shadow projection, energy blasts. Each display reminded him of his lack, and yet… a small spark of determination flickered.
During exercises, a ball of gravitational energy flew toward a younger student, fast and uncontrolled. Without thinking, Orion moved, catching the ball with a speed that shocked even himself. It was small, almost negligible, but Lyra noticed. Her gaze lingered longer than polite observation, a question forming in her eyes.
Orion's chest tightened with awareness. This was more than instinct—it was a sign. A thread of potential connecting him to something beyond the normal rules of Aurelia.
Later, sitting alone near the twin moons' reflection in the training pond, Orion tried to make sense of the flashes. Memories of Earth—the life he'd lived, the abilities he'd possessed, the instincts he had honed—now merged with his new existence. It was disorienting, intoxicating, and frightening all at once.
"Maybe… maybe I'm not entirely nothing," he whispered to himself. "Maybe… there's something hidden in me. Something they can't see yet."
The twin moons shimmered, casting long silver reflections across the pond. For a brief moment, Orion felt a presence—watching, observing. A shadow flickered at the edge of the water, fleeting and enigmatic. It vanished before he could focus on it, leaving only the quiet sound of rippling water.
Orion shivered. Someone—or something—is out there.
But more pressing than the shadow was the truth he could no longer ignore: his coreless body, his weakness, and his outsider status were temporary. Something within him waited. A power he did not yet understand.
And Kael Adren—reborn as Orion—would uncover it, one flash, one instinct, and one choice at a time.
The slow burn had begun.