Ethan let out a sigh as he stood in front of what used to be his bedroom. The door hung loosely from its hinges, the frame splintered beyond repair. Inside, his bed was crushed, his dresser overturned, and deep gashes ran across the walls like something massive had torn through.
He scratched his head, trying to process it all. Whatever had caused this was definitely bigger than the thing he encountered last night.
His mind raced. If something that size had been here… how were his parents still alive?
He looked up at the shattered roof, now an open window to the sky. Sunlight poured in through the jagged gaps, casting uneven shadows across the wreckage. From up there, he had a clear view of the surrounding neighborhood—damaged homes, overturned cars, and the eerie stillness that followed chaos.
"This is going to cost a ton of money to fix," he muttered, rubbing his temples.
His father let out a dry chuckle from behind him. "Yeah, no kidding. You planning to help with that, or just stating the obvious?"
Ethan chuckled, shaking his head. "With everything that's been happening, I doubt we'll have time to fix this. Those things might come back, and haven't you been watching the news? People are claiming to have been chosen by gods—and now they have powers." His tone shifted as he spoke, the weight of his own words settling in.
His father scratched his head, letting out a sigh. There was no arguing with that. Without another word, he turned and walked off, clearly deep in thought.
"Ethan." His mother's voice called from the spare room.
He turned toward her. "What's up, Mom? Something bothering you?"
She hesitated for a moment before speaking. "You said people are claiming to be chosen by gods."
"Yeah, that's right," he confirmed. He considered telling her about what had happened to him—the rift, the voice in his head—but something held him back.
"I think I might be one of them," she admitted.
Ethan blinked. "What?"
She continued before he could fully process her words. "I've been having strange dreams for a while now, and sometimes... I hear voices. I thought I was losing my mind, but then something happened last night. I was cutting vegetables when I nicked my hand. I put my fingers over the wound while reaching for a bandage, and suddenly, this green glow surrounded my hand." She lifted her palm and placed it gently on Ethan's forehead.
Ethan's eyes widened as a cooling sensation spread from his forehead, seeping down to his knees. A faint tingling followed, and then—just like that—the pain was gone. He looked down, cautiously touching where the scrapes had been. The skin was smooth, unbroken. No trace of injury remained.
His mother pulled her hand back, watching his reaction closely. "See? I don't know how, but I can heal things."
Ethan blinked. "That's... insane." He ran a hand through his hair. "Mom, this is—this is actual magic."
She nodded slowly. "I know. And if others are getting abilities, then things are only going to get crazier from here."
Ethan exhaled sharply, stepping back. His mind raced. So far, he'd seen monsters, heard voices in his head, possibly summoned a rift, and now his mother had some kind of healing power. It was too much, too fast.
His father's voice called out from the hallway. "Whatever you two are whispering about in there, bring it out here. I think you'll want to see this."
Ethan exchanged a look with his mother before following her into the living room. His father stood by the TV, arms crossed, staring at the news broadcast.
The screen showed shaky phone footage—a massive humanoid figure with burning eyes stood atop a destroyed skyscraper. Around it, dozens of people floated in midair, glowing symbols forming in the sky above them. The news anchor's voice trembled as they spoke:
"Reports are coming in from all over the world. Individuals are manifesting supernatural abilities, and they claim to have been chosen by gods. But as these 'Chosen' emerge, so too do new threats. Experts fear this is only the beginning of something much bigger."
"Experts?... Who could possibly be an expert in what's happening, let alone explain it?" His father scoffed, crossing his arms.
Ethan glanced at the muted news broadcast on the television. The screen was filled with shaky footage of glowing figures, monstrous creatures, and cities in ruin. Every channel seemed to be the same—chaos, speculation, and fear.
"Apparently, a lot of people are trying," Ethan muttered. "But no one really knows what's going on."
His mother, still looking at her hands, spoke softly. "If gods are choosing people... maybe someone out there does."
His father let out a sharp exhale, rubbing his face. "Damn it... This isn't something you just wake up and figure out over coffee." He turned to Ethan. "What do we do, son?"
Ethan didn't have an answer. He wasn't sure anyone did.
"I have something to show you, dear," Ethan's mother said, turning toward his father.
His father, arms crossed, frowned at her. "What are you talking about?"
She stepped closer, gently reaching for his arm. "Just trust me."
He sighed but let her take his hand. The moment her fingers touched his skin, a soft green glow pulsed from her palm, seeping into him. At first, he didn't react—then his eyes widened as warmth spread through his wrist. The familiar ache from an old work injury faded, replaced by something… soothing.
He flexed his fingers, then rolled his wrist. No stiffness. No pain.
"What the hell…" His voice trailed off as he turned his hand over, searching for some explanation. "Did you just—"
"I healed it," she said, pulling her hand back.
He took a step away, still staring at his wrist like he didn't trust what just happened. "So, what… you're some kind of healer now?"
"I don't know," she admitted, looking down at her hands. "But I think I was chosen."
Ethan watched them silently, his mind racing. This wasn't just happening to his mother. The news was filled with people claiming divine blessings, showing off abilities no human should have.
And then there was him.
That rift he somehow summoned. The voice in his head. The exhaustion that followed.
Had he been chosen too?
The World Unraveling
The TV flickered, drawing their attention. The news played live footage from all over the world:
A man in New York, his hands crackling with lightning as he fought off a creature in the middle of the street.
A woman in Brazil forming barriers of golden light to protect a group of terrified children.
Entire cities in ruins, with emergency broadcasts warning people to stay indoors.
Ethan swallowed hard.
It's real. It's everywhere.
He gripped the back of a chair to steady himself. "We're not safe here."
His father turned away from the screen. "What are you talking about?"
Ethan gestured toward the TV. "You saw what happened to my room. Something huge did that. And those things—we don't even know if they're coming back."
A heavy silence filled the room.
Then—
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The sound echoed through the house, slow and deliberate.
Everyone froze.
Ethan's father clenched his jaw and moved to the broken front door. Peering through a crack in the wood, his entire body tensed.
"Who the hell—?"
Outside stood a man. His clothes were torn, his frame unnaturally thin. But his eyes… they glowed with an eerie light, swirling with something unnatural.
"I need help," the man rasped.
Ethan exchanged a glance with his mother. Something was wrong.
His father tightened his grip on the door handle but didn't open it. "Who are you?"
The man swayed slightly, placing a hand against the doorframe. His breathing was ragged. Then, suddenly, his body twitched. His back arched at an unnatural angle, bones cracking. His fingers curled, twisting in ways they shouldn't.
His glowing eyes widened—not in aggression, but in fear.
And then—
Something else looked back at them.