The city glimmered under the late evening sun, streaks of amber reflecting off the glass towers like molten fire. Veyron Okami adjusted the strap of his backpack, the sound of the crowd around him drowned out by the dull hum of his thoughts. First-year college. Another day, another set of mundane lectures. Nothing remarkable, until today, he thought, but the feeling was empty, hollow. Something in the air didn't belong.
He walked through the campus streets, the chatter of students fading behind him. His fingers brushed the screen of his holo-watch, checking the time: 18:57. Almost done. Almost free. His last class, Applied Physics of Energy Manipulation, had been a blur. He wasn't really listening. Lately, people had been… changing. Powers, quirks, abilities, whatever you called them, were starting to leak into the world. Rumors whispered across the campus like wildfire. And Veyron… he didn't feel anything.
He passed under the arch of the campus gate when a sudden vibration rattled the ground beneath his boots. A sharp, unnatural crack, followed by a low, rumbling boom. Students screamed and scattered, but Veyron froze, instincts flaring despite himself. Across the quad, smoke twisted into the sky like black serpents. A building—part of the science wing, had erupted in a shockwave of shattered glass and flame. Heat licked his face, stinging his eyes.
Something compelled him forward. Fear knotted his gut, but curiosity, something darker, pulled him. Veyron sprinted through the chaos, dodging panicked students and overturned holo-carts, until he reached the center of the disaster.
There, lying in the debris, was a man. His body was twisted in unnatural angles, eyes wide in a frozen scream. On his chest glimmered a faint, pulsating mark, a crude, temporary seal that had clearly failed. Smoke and ash mingled with the scent of burnt ozone. Veyron staggered back, chest tightening. What happend? His fingers twitched involuntarily. A fleeting surge of heat, a faint vibration in his veins-his own body answering, though he didn't know why.
He didn't know what he felt, fear, anger, or the whisper of power that had been lying dormant. But he knew one thing: this wasn't normal. The world he thought he knew, the world of college classes, mundane routines, and ordinary nights had shattered.
Later that night, Veyron sat alone in his dimly lit room. The city lights outside painted shadows on the walls. His holo-screen glowed with forbidden knowledge. Hidden forums, deep-web archives, encrypted threads, people writing about seal awakenings, about powers that had been locked for centuries and had started bleeding back into the world in 2396.
Some called it the Great Leak, others whispered of the Sealbreakers, a force that had been kept from the world by ancient guardians, now unraveling. And somewhere in the flood of information, among the paranoia and conspiracy, a pattern formed, warnings that powers were dangerous, that awakening could kill, that the world itself would pay the price for every broken seal.
Veyron's hands hovered over the keyboard, trembling slightly. He didn't know why, but he needed to know. Needed to understand.
Veyron leaned back in his chair, the faint hum of his holo-screen filling the otherwise silent room. His eyes were dry, bloodshot from staring at the streams of text, images, and videos. Each post, each speculation, pulled him further into a labyrinth he wasn't sure he wanted to enter. Yet he couldn't stop. Every fiber of him screamed that he needed to understand, that he couldn't turn away.
Why now? He asked himself, fingers hovering over the keyboard. Why did the seals break after all these years? Why were people dying the moment someone tried to awaken their power? His heart pounded in his chest. His mind kept circling back to the scene at the campus. That man's face, frozen in shock, eyes wide, chest torn apart by forces he didn't understand.
He had seen enough news feeds, official statements, and half-hearted government explanations to know that no one would tell the truth. They never did. But the forums were different. People dared to whisper the truths they could not say aloud. They spoke of anomalies, sudden manifestations of strange abilities in ordinary people, patterns that no one could explain. They spoke of fear. Of secrecy. Of deaths that were never reported. Of things the world wasn't ready to see.
Veyron scrolled through a thread that had caught his eye, the title glowing ominously on the dark interface: "The Great Leak: Seals are Failing." The first post was long, almost rambling, but the words dug into him. Someone had compiled reports from across the globe, incidents where powers had erupted without warning. People losing control, buildings collapsing, small towns wiped off the map in moments. He read aloud, whispering to himself, as if the sound of his own voice made the information more real.
"They say it started in two thousand three hundred ninety-six… That's four years ago. Powers were always sealed. Something broke the chains… or maybe the seals themselves are decaying." He paused, trying to make sense of the chaos. "But why? Why now? Was it natural? Was it engineered?"
Another post caught his attention. It was shorter, more urgent. The author wrote that the government had been aware of the leaks for years, that they were covering up every incident, burying the truth, manipulating reports, erasing those who got too close. People didn't talk publicly. Only in private, to those they trusted. Even when it was obvious something wasn't right. Veyron frowned, his fingers tightening around the edge of his chair.
"You're telling me… everyone is pretending this is normal?" He muttered, pacing the small space of his room. His voice echoed off the walls, the weight of the thought pressing down on him. "People are dying. Powers are awakening. And everyone just… looks the other way? Why would they hide it?" He stopped suddenly, his chest heaving. The room felt smaller now, oppressive, like the walls themselves were leaning in. "They must know… they must know the risks."
He returned to the screen, pulling up another thread. This one was a discussion between people claiming to be witnesses, some of them anonymous, some offering screenshots of documents they said were leaked from classified archives. The words were stark, cold. Warnings about experiments, seal-testing, the awakening process. Some had died, some had vanished. And yet all the posts ended with the same sentiment: "Don't trust anyone. Don't let anyone know your seal broke. Or they'll come for you."
Veyron's hand hovered over the keyboard. His mind raced. Could he already be… susceptible? He had felt that strange pulse, the flicker of heat in his veins when he had seen the man at the school. It hadn't been fear, or not only fear. It had been… something else. Something reacting to the presence of power.
"What if… I'm next?" he whispered, voice barely audible. He shook his head. "No. That's impossible. I don't have anything. Nothing is happening to me. I'm normal. I have to be normal." But the words felt hollow. His pulse had sped up again, a low hum of anticipation running through him. He could feel it in his fingertips, a kind of awareness he couldn't explain, a shadow of energy, almost like the world itself was vibrating against him, whispering secrets just out of reach.
Hours passed. The glow from the holo-screen painted his face in shades of cold blue and grey. He had stopped counting time. Each post, each video, each whispered rumor pulled him deeper. Why the man had died? His own pulse thrummed in his ears, the sensation crawling across his skin like fire and ice mixed.
"I can't tell anyone," he muttered. "Mom… Akari… no. I can't drag them into this. And dad… he's… never around anyway. I can't let anyone know." The room felt even smaller now, oppressive, suffocating. Veyron pushed himself out of his chair, legs stiff and heavy, his room suddenly feeling smaller than ever. The glow of the holo-screen lingered in his vision like the remnants of a nightmare. The city outside was quiet now, the streets bathed in the soft hum of neon and the occasional siren in the distance. Even from his window, he could see the faint, flickering headlines of old news stories—the strange, unexplainable incidents that had been buried, smoothed over, erased.
A woman caught flying above a crowded square. A man who could speak to whales, coaxing them to swim alongside his boat. He had seen these stories before, brief flashes in passing, never imagining they were true powers. Never realizing the scale of what was hidden. The government's grip on information, the way reality was filteredl, it was more effective than he had feared.
He rubbed his face and moved toward the door, compelled to leave his room, to breathe, to feel real air again. That's when a sudden tug on his shirt nearly yanked him off his feet.
"Veyron! Come with me!"
He turned, startled, glaring down at his fifteen-year-old sister, Akari. She had grabbed the oversized shirt he slept in—his favorite, soft cotton shirt—and she was pulling it with such force it strained against the fabric.
"Hey! That's my—stop, stop! You're gonna rip it!" he snapped, tugging it back.
"It's just a shirt, big bro. Come on, don't be so dramatic."
He growled, letting his anger simmer as he followed her down the hallway. "You better not tear it," he muttered under his breath.
She jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow, giggling. "I peeked through your door. I saw what you were looking at."
Veyron froze mid-step. "What? You—"
"Don't be mad," she interrupted, voice light, teasing. "It's kinda funny. You sit there in the dark, all serious and scary, reading all that… conspiracy stuff. Do you really believe it?"
Veyron blinked at her, disbelief sharpening in his chest. She was smiling, making a joke out of him. The tension in him loosened just a fraction, the edge of fear and obsession blunted by her playful tone.
"You're joking," he muttered, exhaling slowly.
"Of course I am," she said, rolling her eyes, and then turned to her room. "Come on, I'll show you something."
Veyron followed reluctantly, the fluorescent light from the hallway spilling into her room. Akari reached over and turned off her desk lamp. The room plunged into darkness, except for the faint shimmer of something in the corner.
"I was just joking…" she said softly, almost hesitantly. "…I… I believe you. Please, see for yourself."
Veyron squinted, leaning forward. The glow intensified, filling the room with soft pulses of bright pink light. And then he saw it.
Akari stood there, her small hands raised, and hovering around her were dozens of glowing butterflies. Each one was vivid pink, their wings flaring and flickering like delicate, living lanterns. They fluttered in the air with elegance and a softness that made Veyron's chest tighten. His jaw went slack. He couldn't breathe for a moment, staring at the impossible spectacle.
"They're incredible," he whispered, voice barely audible, more to himself than to her.
Akari stepped closer, the butterflies swirling around her. "I got mine this morning," she said, her tone a mix of pride and awe. She looked up at him, eyes wide and sparkling with a mix of fear and excitement. "I… I can summon butterflies."