The morning started wrong.
Not bad — just wrong.
I woke up before the alarm, staring at the ceiling like someone snapped their fingers in my head. No dream. No noise. Just… awareness. Too sharp, too sudden.
Beside me, Tônia slept curled up, her hair covering half her face. She didn't move when I sat up. Good. She needed the rest.
Alya called first, her voice small and impatient from the next room."Paaai… tô com sede!"
"Já vou, pequena," I answered, rubbing my eyes.
When I stood, something felt off. The room looked the same, but my sight seemed— I don't know. Clearer. Like someone wiped a dirty window inside my head.
I shook it off.
Normal morning. Bottle for Arty. Water for Alya. Kiss on Tônia's forehead. Backpack. Keys. Door.
But everything happened… faster than usual. Not rushed. Efficient.
Too efficient.
I stepped outside and stopped for a second. The street in Lumedal felt louder than normal — not in volume, but in detail. I could pick out conversations I shouldn't hear from across the alley. I heard the exact moment a neighbor's old technomagic fridge clicked before shutting off.
I shouldn't hear that.
I walked faster.
On the bus, I noticed the next weird thing.
Every time the driver hit the brake, I braced my body before the bus actually slowed. Not on purpose — my muscles anticipated it.
And worse… I knew who was getting off before they stood up. A hand tightening around a pole, a backpack strap shifting, a breath pulled in — I saw the patterns before the actions.
"What the hell…" I muttered under my breath.
The woman beside me gave me a quick glance."Cê falou comigo?"
"Não, desculpa."
I looked away to avoid more conversation. My pulse hammered once in my neck, then settled too quickly. Calm. Unnaturally calm.
I didn't like it.
At the depot, I clocked in and headed to the damaged-items aisle. Same broken shelves, same chemical smell of half-dead enchantments, same failing lights.
But I wasn't the same.
"Bom dia, Giva," said Bruno, already sorting boxes.
"Bom dia," I replied.
He squinted at me. "Cê tá diferente hoje. Tomou café duplo?"
"Se eu tivesse dinheiro pra isso, eu tomava," respondi.
He laughed and kept working.
I tried to focus, but my body didn't let me. My hands knew where each crate should go before I thought about it. I knew which boxes were heavier just by glancing at how the cardboard bent.
At one point I caught a crate with my left hand before it slid off the pallet — without even looking at it.
Bruno noticed."Carai! Reflexo aí tá em dia, hein?"
I forced a laugh. "Pura sorte."
Sorte, nada.
My heart told a different story — and it beat fast enough to warn me.
Around mid-morning, I returned to the exact spot where I'd found the strange sphere the day before.
The shelf looked normal. Dusty. Slightly bent. Labels peeling.
But I felt something when I got close. A kind of… pressure. Like static before a storm.
I knelt, pretending to check a barcode, and touched the lower metal bar.
A spark snapped up my arm — faint, like a static shock — but enough to make me pull back.
I looked around.
No one noticed.
The spot under my fingers tingled for several seconds.
My chest tightened.
This wasn't normal.None of this was normal.
During lunch, I sat alone, picking at my food. I wasn't hungry. My head kept replaying the morning — the reflexes, the clarity, the spark on the shelf.
I took out my phone to distract myself, but even that was strange.My eyes moved faster than they used to.I read quicker.My fingers typed with perfect precision.
"Tô ficando louco," murmurei.
"Quem? Você?" asked a coworker passing by.
"Eu mesmo," respondi, giving him a half-smile.
He laughed and walked away.
I didn't move. I couldn't. The fear pressed down too hard.
Something in me had changed.And it wasn't just physical.It wasn't just mental.It was everything.
But I couldn't stop. I couldn't rest. I couldn't break.
I had Alya. Arty. Tônia.Rent. Food. Life.
Whatever this "spark" was…it couldn't take over my world.
Not this world.
Not my family.