"We're here." My father's voice was firm, too casual for the magnitude of the change that was happening. The car came to a smooth stop inside the garage of a house that was too big to simply be called a house.
"Finally!" My mother opened her door before the engine had fully died and stepped out quickly, as if the air outside were lighter. She went straight to the trunk, already reaching for the handle of one of the suitcases. "Nate, go check out your room!"
The tone wasn't an invitation. It was an order disguised as excitement.
I let out a short sigh and stepped out of the car slowly, closing the door behind me. My eyes swept over the place with automatic attention.
The house was… luxurious, yes.
But not flashy.
Modern lines mixed with light wood, large windows, recessed lighting. Everything was very well planned, very well maintained, and yet, strangely neutral. There was nothing there that sparked immediate recognition. No borrowed memory from the show. No "ah, I remember this."
Beacon Hills, or at least this part of it, didn't look like a set.
It felt too real for that.
"Yes, ma'am." I rolled my eyes slightly, more out of habit than rebellion, and crossed the garage toward the interior door of the house.
The interior followed the same pattern as the exterior: spacious, silent, too clean. The kind of place that hadn't yet learned how the people living in it breathed. My footsteps echoed down the hallway, and I had the distinct sensation of invading a space that didn't yet recognize me as part of it.
I walked up the stairs without rushing, guided more by curiosity than the order itself.
In the end…
It wasn't like I had paid much attention to the scenery when I watched the show anyway.
Back then, Beacon Hills was just a backdrop.
Now, it was where I was going to sleep.
[...]
(3RD PERSON POV)
Nathan opened the bedroom door and stood there for a few seconds.
"Okay." He looked around. "Definitely bigger than I expected."
Not that it meant much. That room carried no memories, had no smell of childhood, no invisible mark of routine; it was too new.
To Nathan, he was feeling the same sensation as when he had transmigrated; it was like he was restarting his life all over again.
The walls were light, almost impersonal. The bed sat in the corner opposite the door, large enough to seem excessive for someone who had spent his entire life sleeping in functional bedrooms. A simple wooden desk occupied the space near the window, facing directly toward the dense forest that surrounded the town. Trees that were too tall, too close, as if they were watching.
There were boxes still sealed in a corner, others open with clothes Nathan easily recognized.
He closed the door with a dry thud and let himself fall onto the bed. The mattress yielded under his body weight as if accepting him without resistance. Nathan stared at the white ceiling for a few seconds, his breathing still quick, trying to organize his anxiety into something practical.
"Alright… let's test this," he murmured.
"Status."
Nothing happened.
The silence of the room remained intact, almost mocking.
"Menu. Profile. System. Inventory." He bit his lower lip and let out a heavy sigh. "Nothing…?"
Frustration came quickly, rising up his chest.
"Damn, what kind of fucking system is this that only shows mana?!" he complained.
As soon as the word escaped, the interface appeared before his eyes, discreet and implacable.
[MP: 1992 / 2000]
Nathan frowned.
How does this work…
He reached out toward the bluish screen, but his fingers passed through it like smoke. He tried again. Nothing. Just air.
"Damn it."
The thought that he was no longer a normal human mingled with his irritation. He was in Beacon Hills. In Teen Wolf. And the thing he had wished for so long—a System—had apparently awakened.
Or at least that's what he thought.
"Hey, genius!"
Something hit his stomach lightly. Nathan grabbed it by reflex and pulled it up, snapping out of his whirlwind of thoughts. It was a backpack. The same one he used at his old school, with clear signs of wear.
"Grab your bag, you're late," his father said, standing at the doorway, watching him with poorly disguised uncertainty.
"Late? Late for what?" Nathan sat up abruptly and tossed the backpack onto the bed. "Dad, I just became a mage, I just arrived in town… you can't send me to school like this, please."
Marcus didn't answer immediately. He just turned around and started walking down the stairs.
"None of that is an excuse," he shouted, already from a distance. "If you don't show up in five minutes, I'll give you a magical beating."
Nathan sat on the bed for two more seconds, staring at the backpack as if it were directly responsible for all his recent problems.
"Unbelievable…" he grumbled.
He wiped a hand over his face, stood up all at once, and started putting on the jacket that was thrown over the chair. Every movement was made with calculated reluctance. He grabbed the backpack, slung it over one shoulder, and cast one last look at the empty, overly large room before leaving.
The hallway seemed narrower than before. Or maybe it was just the feeling of being pushed into a routine he hadn't accepted yet.
He went down the stairs, almost stomping his feet on the steps.
"This is magical abuse of authority, you know?" he complained loudly, crossing the living room. "In any world, this should be a crime."
"Hurry up," his father answered from the garage. "Time doesn't stop just because you got a new glow."
Nathan huffed, opened the front door, and went straight to the car. He threw his backpack into the back seat and got in, slamming the door harder than necessary. He crossed his arms and sank into the seat, staring at the dark dashboard in front of him.
A few seconds passed. Too much time.
He frowned and turned his face toward the house.
"Well?" he shouted. "Wasn't I the one who was late?"
The garage door remained open. The car, motionless.
His father's voice came from inside the house, muffled but clear enough.
"I'm coming. Need to speak to your mother about something."
Nathan let out a short, incredulous laugh.
"Of course you do," he muttered. "You always do."
He leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes, letting his body sink down. The irritation was still there, but there was something beneath it now—an uncomfortable feeling, as if this delay wasn't just about the schedule.
Without opening his eyes, Nathan activated Magic Sight almost by reflex.
The world gained depth; the house in front of him no longer seemed like just a house. Something was moving inside.
Alice was in the kitchen when Marcus walked in.
The smell of coffee still filled the room, warm and familiar, contrasting with the heavy silence of the house. She was leaning against the counter, the cup between her hands, her eyes fixed on the window as if watching something only she could see.
Marcus approached without saying a word. He leaned in and planted a quick kiss on her temple—an automatic, ancient gesture.
Alice didn't smile. She turned her face slowly, looking at him with too much attention.
"I've seen that expression before," she said, too calm to be casual. "What are you going to do?"
Marcus exhaled through his nose, averting his gaze for a second before resting his hands on the counter beside her. "I'm going to let the boy explore on his own."
Alice frowned slightly. "Marcus…"
"He needs this," he interrupted, without harshness. "After awakening so late, holding Nate back now would be worse than throwing him straight into the fire."
Silence fell between them for a few seconds. Alice brought the cup to her lips but didn't drink. She just stood there, thinking.
Marcus turned sideways and looked out the window. The forest surrounded the house like a living wall. Dense. Ancient.
"There's something wrong with this town," he continued, his voice lower. "The mana here… it's aggressive. Unstable. It doesn't flow like it should."
Alice followed his gaze.
"You've felt that since we arrived."
"Since before." He clenched his jaw. "And I need to find out why."
She set the cup on the counter with care.
"You're going to be late."
It wasn't a question. Marcus nodded.
"We can't put him in danger," he said. "Not now."
He finally turned his gaze back to her, serious, heavy with intent.
"Nathan's potential is too great for us to make a mistake."
Alice closed her eyes for a moment, as if absorbing the weight of those words. When she opened them again, she nodded slowly.
"Then don't make a mistake," she replied. "Because if something happens to him…"
She didn't finish the sentence. Marcus didn't need her to.
The front door opened a few seconds later.
Marcus crossed the garage with firm steps and got into the car, closing the door with a dry sound. He adjusted his seatbelt, started the engine, and pulled out slowly, as if nothing had happened.
Nathan watched him from the side, still leaning back in his seat, arms crossed. The silence didn't last long.
"Apparently, I wasn't that late after all..." he muttered, watching the scenery.
"I heard that," his father replied, keeping his eyes on the road.
"Dad." Nathan looked at him. "If I am a mage..." he made a vague gesture with his hand. "...and I have no idea what those words mean, you decide."
Marcus shot a quick glance at him before returning his attention to the road. "Decide what?"
"How do I get other spells?" The question hung in the air for a few seconds, mixed with the constant hum of the engine.
"Your tome is already full of them," Marcus replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Full?" Nathan frowned, straightening up in his seat. "I opened that whole book. It's empty."
Marcus let out a slight corner smile. "Empty to you. Not to those who can see."
"What the hell does that mean..." he muttered. Nathan fell silent for a moment, assimilating. "So the problem isn't the book, it's me?"
"Exactly."
Nathan wiped a hand over his face, feeling the irritation slowly return. "Fine. So how do I read it?"
"By evolving your Magic Sight." Marcus took the turn carefully before answering.
Nathan turned completely toward him now. "Evolve how?"
Marcus didn't answer immediately. He watched the road, the low buildings passing by, the tree line always present at the edge of town. Then he spoke, simply:
"Using it."
"Just that?" Nathan blinked.
"Just that," he confirmed. "The more you activate it, the more your brain adapts. You need to exhaust your mana by using it, then your sight will evolve the next time you activate it."
"Then we have a problem," Nathan informed him, wiping a hand over his mouth and staring at the landscape.
Marcus arched an eyebrow and looked at him before returning his gaze to the road.
"What problem?" he asked, feeling concern rise.
"Remember when you said that our brain adapts mana in the best way for us to understand?" he asked, and Marcus nodded. "What is it like for you?"
He looked quickly at Nathan and sighed.
"For me... imagine your body is an empty tank, and mana is the water. That's how it is for me. When I awakened, my mana filled up to my knees. Honestly, I could barely keep Magic Sight active for an hour back then." Marcus, without making any gestures, activated his Magic Sight.
Nathan watched his eyes glow, and as he moved his head, a blue trail followed his gaze. "After a lot of training, I managed to fill myself up to my stomach, and that's how I process magic and can measure the power of others."
"And what about me?" Nathan asked. "You said the longer you take to awaken, the greater your potential. How full am I?"
With glowing eyes, Marcus looked at Nathan.
"Up to your neck," he said, looking back at the road. "It's the fullest I've ever seen, in any family I've ever come into contact with."
Nathan sighed. He didn't know if he should feel happy or sad about that.
"Exactly, that's the problem." He activated his Magic Sight and stared at the floating screen in front of him before swallowing hard. "Even if I use Magic Sight for the rest of the day, even if I sleep with it activated, I don't feel like I'm going to exhaust my mana."
Nathan raised his eyes to the dashboard, and a bitter taste rose in his mouth. Because if his father had lived trying to increase his mana reserve, it wasn't working. Floating above his head, a screen glowed.
[MP: 987 / 1021]
"Then change strategy." Marcus took a deep breath, letting the air out slowly through his nose. He didn't seem surprised. He seemed… calculating.
"What do you mean?" Nathan turned his face to him.
"You're going to need to keep Magic Sight active the entire time," Marcus said, naturally, despite the weight of the decision. "It's no use turning it on and off expecting that to spend enough mana. In your case, it won't."
Nathan opened his mouth to retort, but Marcus continued:
"But you can't go to school like that."
He made a brief gesture with his hand, pointing to Nathan's eyes reflected in the glass. "Glowing blue. Leaving a trail wherever you look."
"So what do I do?" Nathan frowned.
"Focus on hiding it." Marcus took the curve carefully before answering.
"Hide… the Sight?"
"The emission," he corrected. "The mana will still circulate. But you're going to force your brain to compress what is leaking out."
"Will that cost more mana?" Nathan blinked, processing.
"Much more," Marcus replied without hesitation. "It's like trying to hold water with clenched fists. The more force you use, the more tiring it is."
Nathan was silent for a moment. "And if I can't do it?"
Marcus shot a quick glance at him.
"You will," he returned his eyes to the road. "Because your brain has already been doing this since you were born."
The sentence took a second to make sense.
"Wait…" Nathan murmured. "You're saying I've always hidden it?"
"You've always compensated," Marcus corrected. "Headaches, fatigue, the feeling of being sick. That was the price."
Nathan swallowed hard. "So now I do it… on purpose."
"Now you do it with control." The car slowed down. The school facade was already appearing in the background.
"Keep the Sight active," Marcus concluded. "Compress. Conceal. Observe." He looked at Nathan one last time before parking. "And let the mana work against you. That is how it gets spent."
Nathan nodded slowly. He activated Magic Sight, and the world lit up in blue.
And, for the first time, he tried to push that back inside. The glow trembled.
The interface flickered, almost imperceptibly.
[MP: 1786 / 2000]
Nathan felt a slight pang behind his eyes. It was working.
And that, somehow, was even more terrifying.
Marcus reduced speed and pulled the car over in front of the school.
Beacon Hills High didn't look like anything special at first glance. A large building, old enough to seem permanent, common enough to hide anything wrong. Students were starting to scatter around the entrance, loud voices, backpacks thrown over shoulders, the false tranquility of a first day.
Marcus turned off the engine.
"First day of school," he said, in a practical tone. "You won't feel as out of place as you imagine. There's always a new student. People arriving in the middle of the year, moving towns… you won't be the only stranger."
Nathan nodded slowly, but he didn't seem to be truly listening. His gaze was lost, focused on some invisible point on the dashboard.
"Can I ask a question?" he said suddenly.
Marcus turned his face to him. "Go ahead."
Nathan finally looked at him. "You don't work as a real estate agent, do you?"
Marcus blinked once. "Come again?"
"Every time you said you were going to work," Nathan continued, too serious to be joking, "you were going to handle mage stuff. Weren't you?"
The corner of Marcus's mouth lifted in a discreet smile. One of those that confirmed everything without needing to say anything.
"Observant," he commented.
Nathan crossed his arms. "Then explain something else." He hesitated for a second. "How do you have so much money?"
Marcus didn't answer with words. He just extended his hand between the two of them.
The air rippled slightly, almost imperceptible, and then… poof.
A pile of bills appeared, stacked in an absurdly casual way. Dollars. Lots of dollars.
Nathan sat motionless.
He blinked.
Blinked again.
"…Right."
He stayed silent for a few seconds, processing. Then he took a deep breath.
"So give me a car."
Marcus let out a short laugh as he made the money disappear the same way it had appeared.
"No," he replied.
"Not yet," Nathan corrected quickly. "But you will."
"I won't."
Nathan tilted his head, thoughtful.
"Eventually, I'm going to learn that spell," he said with conviction. "So you can give me a car now and pretend it was an investment."
"You're not getting a car." Marcus started the engine.
Nathan opened the door, already putting one foot out.
"I'm going to get a car," he stated confidently. "Maybe not today. But I will."
Marcus pulled the steering wheel and started to drive off.
"You're not getting a car," he repeated, pulling out of the spot.
The passenger door closed with a dry snap.
Nathan stood on the sidewalk for a second, watching the car drive away. Then he adjusted his backpack on his shoulder and turned toward the school.
"Still," he muttered to himself, "worth a shot."
He took a deep breath and took the first step toward the entrance.
Beacon Hills High awaited him.
And, for the first time, Nathan kept his Magic Sight active… concealed.
Just observing.