The day was almost over. The sun was setting, casting long, golden shadows across this new, strange world I’d suddenly been thrown into. It wasn’t just any day—it was the kind that changes everything. Magic. Spies. Combat. It all felt unreal, like stepping into a video game or some sci-fi movie. But nope, this was my life now.

  And here, fighting wasn’t just about throwing punches. It was mixed with magic—spells, energy, moves that looked like something out of a dream. You didn’t just hit your opponent; you outsmarted them with power that didn’t come from muscle alone. It was wild.

  As the sky shifted from orange to deep purple, I found myself just standing there, stuck between two lives—my old one that made sense and this one that didn’t. Learning to use a wand, for example, was insane. It wasn’t just a stick. It's connected to your thoughts, like it moves with you, Like it is you. Casting spells didn’t feel fake or forced. It felt… natural. Like I was waking up some part of myself I didn’t even know was there. Although, I couldn't help but to wonder if I failed or not. Why did my arm glow red?

  I couldn’t help but miss how simple things used to be. Back then, if you wanted to win a fight, you just had to be fast, strong, or smart. Now, it felt like I was part of something way bigger than me—and a lot more dangerous.

  But what really stuck with me from today wasn’t the training. It was Mr. Drails—my uncle, apparently—who somehow ran this entire operation. He didn’t talk much, but when he looked at you, you listened. You didn’t have a choice. He didn’t just ask for respect. He got it just by walking into the room.

  When training wrapped up and everyone started heading off, Mr. Drails called me over. We stepped outside, where the sky was darkening and the air felt different—quieter, heavier. His driver stood nearby, but it was just the two of us talking.

  “So,” he said casually, but with a serious look, “how’d your first day go?”

  I shrugged, trying to act chill even though I was a mess inside. “Fine, I guess,” I said. It was a total lie and we both knew it.

  He smirked a little. “Could’ve been worse.”

  I wasn’t really in the mood for small talk, though. There was something I needed to ask—something that had been bugging me ever since I found out I had this Perk. Mine must've been some kind of unnatural strength or something like that. But why did I have it and not my parents?

  “So about my Perk," I said slowly, watching his face. “Why don’t my parents have it? And please, don’t give me some long, complicated answer.”

  His expression changed. His eyes narrowed slightly like he was trying to figure out how much to say. “Well… it is complicated.”

  “I know it’s complicated,” I said, cutting him off. “But just tell me. I need to understand.”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  He let out a deep sigh. The kind of sigh you hear when someone’s been holding onto a secret for a long time.

  “Your parents made a choice,” he said. “They wanted a normal life. So they gave up their powers—passed them to me, actually, to carry on the family legacy. But they had you before that happened.”

  It hit me all at once. Everything made sense now. Why I had powers. Why they didn’t. Why none of this was random.

  “Oh,” I said, the pieces clicking into place. “I get it.”

  And I really did. They weren’t hiding anything from me. They were protecting me—from this life, from this danger. I guess I just got pulled in anyway.

  “Good,” Mr. Drails said, his voice turning brisk again. “Let’s get you home.”

  He opened a portal right there—something I’d seen before but still couldn’t get used to. It shimmered like light on water, and on the other side, I saw my front door. It still amazed me, how quickly the world could shift from magic back to normal.

  “See you tomorrow, Connor,” he said with a small nod.

  I waved back and stepped through the portal. It felt weightless, like stepping out of a dream and into reality.

  When I got to the door, I knocked and waited. A moment later, my dad opened it. Same messy black hair, same calm, curious look in his eyes.

  “How was the chess activity?” he asked casually.

  Right. The cover story.

  “Yeah, it was good,” I said with a forced smile. “Kind of fun, actually. The kids were really into it.”

  He chuckled. “Glad to hear it. You’ve been surprising me a lot lately.”

  I nodded, trying to swallow the guilt. It wasn’t a full-on lie, but it definitely wasn’t the truth either.

  Later that night, I collapsed onto my bed, completely drained. I wanted to think everything through, to figure out where I stood in all of this. But sleep hit me fast—like a blackout switch had been flipped.

  The next morning, things felt… normal again. Sort of. I walked through the same hallways, saw the same kids yelling, laughing, messing with their lockers. But it felt different now. Like I was walking through two worlds at once.

  Every face I passed made me wonder: who else was hiding something?

  As I turned the corner, I saw Greg—thankfully still just Greg. One of the only familiar things left in my life.

  “Hey, Connor!” he said, smiling like he always did.

  “Hey, G—Greg,” I caught myself just in time.

  He didn’t notice. “What happened over the weekend? You didn’t answer any of my calls.”

  “Oh, right. We went out of town,” I said quickly. Another lie. “Sorry about that.”

  Greg nodded. “No big deal. Good to have you back.”

  “Yeah,” I said, and I meant it. It felt good to see something that hadn’t changed.

  The rest of the school day went by in a blur. Classes felt pointless now, like they didn’t matter as much. I sat through them, but my mind was elsewhere. None of it fit anymore.

  Then my phone buzzed in my pocket.

  I checked the screen. It was Mr. Drails.

  My chest tightened.

  I answered quickly. “What’s going on?”

  “You need to come to the YMPA,” he said. “Right now.”

  “What? Why?”

  “There’s been an incident. You’ll be safer here.”

  The call ended before I could ask anything else.

  Panic flared. I scanned the hallway, looking for a way out without drawing attention.

  The restroom. Easy cover.

  I slipped inside and locked the door behind me. A second later, a portal appeared, glowing softly. I didn’t hesitate. I stepped through.

  Back at YMPA, everything felt urgent. Agents moved fast, voices low, the air thick with tension.

  Mr. Drails was waiting at the stairs.

  “An assassin tried to target you,” he said immediately. “We stopped him before he could act—but this isn’t over. You need to stay sharp.”

  I nodded, heart pounding. I could feel the pressure closing in.

  This was real now.

  I wasn’t just a new student anymore.

  I was a target.