The next day, I bought a diary with a lock and began recording everything about the strange stones.
I kept it confidential from my family, especially after the heavy effect the fragments had left on my body.
Still, curiosity burned louder than caution.
If my parents discovered what I was doing, they'd probably scold me to death—but my mind wouldn't rest.
I read every article, every broadcast, every report the government released.
Most of the meteorite pieces had fallen into the oceans.
That alone was strange—there's no ocean near my home, only a river that winds toward one downstream.
So why did a fragment land here?
Most official samples had already turned ordinary, but mine still pulsed faintly with something alive.
I needed answers.
Grabbing my bicycle and an empty jar, I called out, "Mom, I'm going to the ocean!"
Mom looked up from the kitchen with a teasing grin.
"Again? Where are you off to this time, little astro?"
"Just collecting some ocean water," I said, trying to sound casual.
She laughed. "Be careful, scientist. Don't let curiosity drown you."
I smiled, kicked the pedals, and let the wind rush over my face as sunlight shimmered across the road.
The beach stretched wide and silver when I arrived.
My brother—not by blood but by bond—Eron Vale was already there, standing at the edge of the waves.
"So, the great traveler returns from Switzerland," I called.
He turned with a grin. "Oh, it's you, Ryn Calen. You look exhausted—and kind of nervous. What happened?"
"Nothing much," I said. "Just revisiting those stones. Managed to get my hands on a few pieces."
Eron smirked. "Knew it. If you got one, you'd test it—especially if it's a big one."
I chuckled. "You really do know me too well."
He shrugged. "While I was diving in Switzerland, I found a small fragment in a lake. Not huge, but enough to keep you busy.
This would be the best gift for you in my view."
I laughed. "You're right about that."
He nodded. "Anyway, if you like, I'll drop you home when you're done. I was going to visit your place later anyway—your mom said she's cooking."
I smiled. "Perfect timing then. Let me just fill this jar."
I crouched by the shore, filling the solid metal jar with seawater before sealing it tight.
The container was heavy—thick enough that even light couldn't reveal what was inside.
"Done," I said, standing up.
Eron patted my shoulder. "Good. Let's head home before sunset. You can play with your space rocks after dinner."
We both laughed, the sound carried away by the waves.
Back in my attic workshop, I set the metal bottle beside the telescope.
For hours the stones stayed still—no fading, no crumbling.
Then I took one of the older fragments and tapped it gently against a newer one.
A tiny chip broke off, and suddenly the stone in my hand glowed—its color deepened, light pulsing softly beneath its surface.
My pulse quickened.
I repeated the process with the rest until all eight pieces shone as brightly as the day they'd fallen from the sky.
I sealed them inside the thick metal bottle and began writing everything in my diary.
A voice called from behind me—bright and sure.
"Brother!"
I turned and smiled. "Hey, Mira."
She stood at the doorway, hands on her hips like she was mimicking Mom.
"Big Brother Eron came!" she announced, eyes sparkling. "He said you'd be locked up here again!"
I blinked. "He came already?"
"Mm-hm!" she said proudly. "He told me to tell you to hurry before dinner gets cold. Oh—and he said my star is brighter tonight!"
I laughed softly. "Did he now? Then we'll check it together later."
"Promise!"
She ran to fetch me some water—without realizing she'd poured it from the same metal bottle that held the meteorite fragments.
The liquid looked perfectly clear—almost too clear—like it had been filtered through light itself.
I drank it without a thought.
The taste lingered—metallic, sweet—and for a heartbeat my pulse stumbled.
I adjusted the telescope, the air faintly humming around me.
Leaving Mira humming downstairs, I stepped out to meet Eron—
unaware that something inside me had already begun to change.