They never saw the cracks.
Only the smile he forced.
Only the quiet nod.
Only the boy who "should be grateful."
But Tayven Vale had been breaking for years.
---
> "Why can't you be normal?"
"Useless."
"Stop dreaming. This is real life."
"Grades. Job. Life. That's the system. Accept it."
Their words—his family's, his teachers', society's—
They weren't just echoes.
They were knives.
Twisting deeper every time he stayed silent.
He used to fight back.
Used to explain.
But after a while… he stopped.
Stopped arguing.
Stopped hoping.
He started believing them.
---
Every day was a rerun of the same broken loop:
Wake. Obey. Smile. Study. Shut up. Repeat.
Die a good boy.
He hated it.
The system.
The grades.
The pressure.
The lie that success meant happiness.
At college, he was a ghost.
A skinny, sharp-eyed kid with a messy desk and a head full of lightning.
Notebooks filled with worlds, characters, monsters—
Things he wished were real.
> "You'll never be anything."
"Your cousins are doing better."
"You're wasting your life."
And in the end, when there was nothing left inside…
He made a wish.
Not for revenge.
Not even for love.
Just a way out.
To disappear.
To be special.
To matter.
Or maybe…
Just to stop existing.
---
That's how he ended up here.
On the bridge.
Alone.
The city buzzing below.
The wind like whispers from the void.
He looked down at the water.
And whispered to the universe:
> "If I'm meant for nothing...
then why am I still here?"
Silence.
Then—
BOOM.
His chest erupted in fire.
---
He screamed.
Fell to his knees.
Hands clawed at his chest as veins lit up with molten lightning.
His eyes burned silver.
His breath shook the air.
Flashes in his mind—
Burning cities.
A throne of shadows.
A reflection of himself wearing a crown of broken memories.
> "What the hell is happening to me?!"
Pain surged again.
Not magic.
Not power.
Something deeper.
Something that had been asleep inside him for too long.
And now—
It was awake.
---
He collapsed on the sidewalk hours later.
Drenched in sweat.
Chest still glowing faintly beneath his hoodie.
The city moved on.
Clueless.
Back at home, the arguments bled through the walls.
> "He's wasting his potential!"
"He's not like us."
"He's a disgrace."
Tayven sat in the dark, fists clenched, breath ragged.
He wanted to scream.
To burn the world.
To finally become something.
> "I'm not nothing," he whispered.
"I know I'm not."
---
The next day, college felt like a joke.
Same walls.
Same lectures.
Same hollow future.
His professor, a walking corpse of corporate dreams, rambled on:
> "Success is built on discipline and academic merit."
Tayven didn't write.
Didn't listen.
He just stared.
Felt that power in his chest again—like static crawling under his skin.
> What if I don't want that?
What if I was never meant to follow this system?
The thought was terrifying.
And thrilling.
---
That night, he returned to the bridge.
Same spot.
Same view.
But this time, he didn't come to fall.
He came to rise.
He stood tall against the wind.
Closed his eyes.
> "Show me," he whispered.
The air cracked.
Electric.
It answered.
Silver light rippled through his veins.
His spine arched.
His mind flooded with whispers and visions.
He wasn't just Tayven Vale anymore.
He was the beginning of something more.
Something fractured. Something sovereign.
---
From the shadows nearby, someone watched.
A tall figure.
Black coat.
One glowing eye.
A smirk like he'd waited years for this moment.
> "The Phantom's waking up," the man muttered.
"Took you long enough, kid."
---
To be continued.....