"Mom, how's the cake coming along?"
Orion Ashford stepped into the kitchen, still in his school uniform. Ten years old today. Outside, the sky shifted to deep blue—early evening settling in.
His mom turned from the oven and smiled.
"Almost ready, sweetheart. Just waiting for it to puff up."
"Okay!" he chirped, then ran off into the living room.
His dad was there, tangled in streamers and balloon strings.
"Cake ready?" he asked without turning.
"Almost. She said it's puffing."
His dad chuckled.
"Alright, birthday boy. No chores tonight. Just enjoy yourself."
Orion nodded, jumped onto the couch, and flicked on the TV. His favorite show filled the screen—Captain Volt vs. The Crimson Claw. Superheroes. Explosions. The kind of stuff he lived for.
His dad kept decorating, half-distracted.
"Sorry we couldn't make it to school today. Work was hell. But Sunday's the real party. Today's just the warm-up."
"That's okay," Orion mumbled, eyes locked on the screen.
Then—static.
The show cut out.
A news anchor appeared: calm face, tense voice.
"This is KTV News. We're reporting a Level-A threat. A high-level prisoner has escaped from the Hero League's maximum-security facility. The escapee is confirmed to be a senior member of VORTEX. Citizens are advised to stay indoors. Do not engage. Await further updates."
Orion froze.
That prison was just one town over.
His dad quietly walked to the door and double-checked the locks. Then again. The room felt colder now. Like the walls had closed in just a little.
They didn't say the escapee's name. That meant it was someone bad enough to keep off public record.
Still, Orion whispered to himself,
"The League will stop him. They always do."
Because one day, he wanted to be in the League. Powers. Missions. Saving people. That was the dream.
But in this world, you didn't get powers until fifteen. And even then—not everyone got them.
Some were Chosen.
Others were left behind.
Orion didn't know which one he'd be yet. But he hoped.
His mom entered with the cake, lit candles flickering. His dad brought over a box, wrapped in gold paper.
"Time to celebrate!" she said with a smile.
For a moment, the news didn't matter. The fear didn't matter. The world shrank to this room, this cake, this moment.
They sang. Orion leaned forward, candles reflecting in his eyes.
He made his wish.
I want to be a hero. I want to stop the bad guys.
He blew them out.
His parents clapped, proud and smiling. But he caught it—a flicker of worry behind their eyes. They didn't have powers. Neither did anyone close. Just old stories that never came true.
Still, they let him dream.
Before opening the gift, Orion glanced toward the window. Just for a second.
The street was empty.
But something felt… off.
A chill crawled up his neck. No sound. No movement. Just silence thick enough to feel.
He blinked, shook it off, and turned back.
What he didn't know… was that far above his little world—
---
A god was watching.
Not the Creator. Not the Architect. Just a manager of sorts. A bored one.
And boredom was dangerous.
He'd watched too many cycles. Too many clichés. Heroes rise. Villains fall. The same endings. Same speeches. Same fate.
He was sick of it.
He didn't want another victory.
He wanted spectacle.
Suffering.
Chaos.
Not for himself. No, this was to impress the only one who mattered—the Supreme Being. The one above all.
He wanted to craft a story so tragic, so unforgettable, that even He would watch.
But to do that?
He needed a villain.
Not born.
Made.
His last try? A rich kid with trauma. Crumbled too early. Suicide before the plot even got good.
This time, he wanted someone different.
Someone pure.
Someone bright.
Someone who had something to lose.
He scanned the Divine Mirror. Souls flickered past—thousands of them. Then he stopped.
A boy. Laughing with his parents. Making a wish.
"I want to be a hero."
The god smiled.
Perfect.
So much light. So much potential to ruin.
He raised his hand. Bent fate like a wire.
"Let the light break."