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Chapter 1 - Chapter 1: ASHES OF INNOCENCE

CHAPTER ONE: ASHES OF INNOCENCE

‎In a world where every human had a special ability, some called it a gift.

‎But for me...

‎It was a curse

‎I remember it like it was just yesterday.

‎Every detail burned into my memory like the flames that devoured my childhood.

‎The way the morning light hit the walls.

‎The sound of Elise humming in the kitchen, dragging her bunny around by the ear.

‎The smell of toasted bread and warm milk.

‎Then

‎MICHAEL! Can you come down the stairs? You're going to be late for class!"

‎My mom's voice.

‎Gentle but firm, like always.

‎I was twelve.

‎Still half-asleep.

‎Still thinking about the girl in class who sat two rows over and how I was going to show her the dumb magic trick I learned with my fingers.

‎I didn't know it was the last normal moment I'd ever have.

‎I came down the stairs slow, like always. Half-dressed, bag on one shoulder, shoes in hand.

‎"Elise, give your brother his water bottle," Mom said, fussing with my collar. Elise giggled and threw it instead. It hit the wall.

‎"Nice aim, little psycho," I muttered with a grin. She stuck her tongue out.

‎Dad was sitting by the radio, sipping coffee like he didn't have the weight of the world on his shoulders. He had *that* look distant, tense. Like he knew something was coming but couldn't say it.

‎Eat fast he said without looking at me. "I'll drop you off."

‎I didn't ask why.

‎I should have.

‎Because ten minutes later, the sky cracked open.

‎It started with a pulse in the air like the world held its breath.

‎Then the front door shattered, and the wind rushed in with heat and thunder and him.

‎Valerian...

‎Cape snapping behind him like a war banner.

‎Eyes glowing like twin suns.

‎Hands clenched, jaw tight. Not like a hero, but everyone admired him...

‎But for me

‎He is executioner

‎"Darius Calix. You are under judgment."

‎That was my father's name.

‎That was my warning.

‎The next few seconds moved like a nightmare underwater.

‎My father stood.

‎My mother screamed.

‎Elise clung to my leg.

‎I couldn't move.

‎Dad tried to speak tried to reason. "There are children here," he said.

‎But Valerian didn't listen.

‎He raised his hand. The floor quaked. The kitchen burst into flames.

‎Elise screamed.

‎I grabbed her.

‎We ran.

‎But only I made it out.

‎I watched our home collapse behind me.

‎Listened to the screams turn to silence.

‎Felt the fire kiss my back as I dove through the gate.

‎I heard my mother screaming in agony because she was burning alive and you know what's the sad part is? i can't even do anything i just run because that's the only thing i know.

‎At that moment i realize that having a gift a special ability doesn't make you a hero but makes you a monster

‎That was the day the hero came to my house.

‎That was the day he killed my family.

‎And the world thanked him for it.

‎I wake up sometimes thinking I can still smell the smoke.

‎It's been twelve years.

‎But the memory doesn't fade.

‎It festers.

‎People say time heals everything.

‎They're wrong.

‎Time doesn't heal. It hides. It buries. It teaches you to smile while you bleed.

‎After the fire, they dragged me through courtrooms and crowded foster homes, calling me "the miracle boy."

‎Reporters shoved cameras in my face.

‎Psychologists fed me words like "survivor," "trauma," "resilience."

‎But none of them saw what I saw.

‎None of them heard my sister's scream right before the ceiling collapsed.

‎None of them cared that the man who killed my family got medals, parades, and statues built in his name.

‎They just patted me on the head, shoved me into broken homes, and told me to move on.

‎I didn't move on.

‎I evolved.

‎My gift my so-called "ability" awakened after that day. Maybe it was the trauma. Maybe it was something inside me that cracked wide open in the fire. I don't even know what to call it anymore.

‎It doesn't shine.

‎It doesn't glow.

‎It burns.

‎Like me.

‎Most people get abilities that make them stronger, faster, better. Mine?

‎Mine feeds on pain. It remembers every wound and turns it into something darker.

‎Something lethal.

‎I trained it in silence. Kept it buried deep like a blade under the ribs. No one knows what I can do. I made sure of it.

‎I'm not interested in fame.

‎Not in justice.

‎Not in being another "hero" in a world full of liars wearing capes.

‎I want one thing.

‎Him.

‎Valerian.

‎The shining symbol of hope. The man who took everything from me and walked away untouched.

‎I don't care how powerful he is.

‎He has a weakness.

‎All heroes do.

‎And I've spent every day since that fire learning how to break them.

‎He doesn't know it yet…

‎But I'm coming.

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