At that very moment, in a part of the universe unbound and lost, an infinite so empty it shouldn't even exist anymore...
The power that had caused a momentary pause in time when it awakened in Kai—saving them from certain death—left behind traces: remnants of an energy that should not exist in that plane. And it was that energy that spread through the cracks between realities, pulling something… or someone...
— "What…? This energy…"
He had been adrift for decades… maybe centuries. Trapped in a stream without direction, where time did not flow linearly. The gravity of the realities kept him shackled — until now.
Instinctively, he expanded the force field around his body, shaping a capsule that could withstand the distortion opening before him. It was as if he were diving straight into a whirlpool of chaos.
A flash. A fold. A silent explosion.
And then… the ground.
The Cosmic dropped to his knees at the center of a remote clearing, his body sinking slightly into the damp earth. Gasping, still disoriented, he looked at his hands. He was alive. The pain was real. The air, dense and breathable. The sunlight, intense.
— "Earth…" he whispered. "I… made it."
Global Defense Agency Operations Center – 12 minutes later
The sensors were still trying to make sense of what had happened when Cecil Stedman was summoned to the command room.
— "Sir," said one of the technicians. "Something entered the atmosphere less than two seconds ago… but…"
— "But?" Cecil raised an eyebrow.
— "We don't know where it came from. Literally. It's not listed in any known spatial fold projections. It's as if… it just appeared out of nowhere."
Cecil sighed and scratched his chin.
— "Send a containment team. I'll follow later." He turned and began walking. "Bring temporal scanning instruments. And be careful. If it came from nothing… it could be from anywhere."
Hours later – at the crash site
The grass nearby was still scorched. The clearing retained the smell of ozone and distortion.
The being was standing now, but silent, observing the trees as if trying to remember what they were.
Cecil approached, surrounded by armed agents. But he dismissed the standard protocols the moment he sensed no hostility in the stranger.
— "Who are you?" he asked bluntly.
The being turned slowly. Deep purple skin, eyes dim like ancient stars. The helmet was now tucked under his arm.
— "You can call me The Cosmic." His voice was deep, calm. "And I'm here because… something pulled me. An ancient energy. An echo of the void."
Cecil narrowed his lips.
— "Void…"
— "My people... believed that this energy could bend time. Stop it. Restart it. But it was a power... too dangerous. Many were lost trying to understand it. I am the last."
Cecil lit a cigarette, eyes fixed on the man before him. The silence between them was heavy.
— "Do you know what caused the rift?"
— "Not exactly. But... I recognized the signature. A spark of what we called the Infinite Void. I never thought I'd feel it again."
— "And what exactly can you do with that energy?"
— "Not much. Only one thing. I can reverse time... in a small area. For a few seconds. But it costs everything."
— "You'd die?"
— "Yes." He nodded, without hesitation. "I can only do it once."
Another pause.
Cecil flicked the cigarette to the ground and slowly crushed it under his foot, deep in thought.
— "Then let's hope you never need to."
The Cosmic averted his gaze for a moment, as if burdened by heavy memories. Then he looked back at Cecil.
— "And now?"
Cecil raised an eyebrow, eyeing the man from head to toe.
— "You're strong. Experienced. You've seen more than anyone here ever will in a thousand lifetimes."
He turned, beginning to walk away, but paused and spoke over his shoulder:
— "Earth might be a good place to start over. If you want to stay... I've got a place for you."
The Cosmic hesitated… and then stepped forward.
— "Where?"
Cecil gave a faint smile as he walked back toward the jet.
— "It's called the Global Defense Agency. And trust me… you'll love the chaos."
Hours after the accident… Back to the Grayson twins
The ceiling was too white. Sterile, smooth, illuminated by cold lights that stung even with eyes half-shut.
Kai woke slowly, as if surfacing from underwater. Every blink was a struggle. His whole body felt heavy as stone — especially his left arm, now in a cast and supported by a sling.
His throat was dry. Muscles, limp. His head throbbed, and there was a persistent ringing in some corner of his mind.
And then the discomfort — he remembered the hair.
White… almost silver at the tips. A clear reflection of what he had done.
Kai's eyes shot open for a second.
"Shit…"
In an instinctive and urgent glance, he spotted the tray on the side table. There was a glass of water, a juice, and — perfect — a disposable medical cap, likely left behind during an exam.
Casually, he reached his right hand and pulled the cap onto his lap.
Footsteps. Someone was approaching from the hallway.
Kai took a deep breath, adjusted himself as best he could, and quickly pulled the cap over his head as if it were part of standard hospital routine.
The door opened slowly.
It was Mark.
— "Finally!" his brother said, relieved but restrained. "Man, you sleep more than a hibernating bear. I've been outside your room for like an hour now…"
Kai forced a faint smile, trying to sit up a bit.
— "And you… you okay?"
Mark nodded, showing his bandaged arm.
— "Sprained it, but nothing that'll stop me from doing whatever I want tomorrow." He looked at his brother. "You're the one who's wrecked…"
Kai gave a small smile but stayed silent. He didn't want to talk about what he was really feeling, nor about the state of his body. His hair was hidden, and he was fully aware that he'd need to come up with an excuse for it later.
But not now.
Mark seemed like he wanted to say something, but hesitated. Kai observed him, then spoke in a softer tone:
— "It'll be okay, Mark. Don't worry."
Mark nodded, still worried, but finally relaxed a little. Kai allowed himself, for a moment, to close his eyes again, enjoying the silence. He felt the weight of exhaustion, and the pain that still hadn't faded. But in that moment, he felt a little more at peace. In the quiet of the hospital, the truth seemed less threatening, less urgent.
Kai lay there, his arm still immobilized, the pain pulsing in his exhausted body, and his hair now hidden under the cap.
He focused on his breathing, trying to push away the emptiness that always crept in when he thought too much about what had happened at the camp.
The door opened again, and Kai's gaze — fixed on the ceiling — shifted quickly.
Nolan entered, as always, with rigid posture and eyes masked behind his usual cold demeanor. There was something about him, always, that felt like he was holding something back — but it was never clear what.
The sound of his heavy footsteps echoed through the small room, and Kai took a deep breath, trying to stay calm.
— "Are you okay?" Nolan asked. His voice was quieter than usual, as if forced to ask.
Kai turned his head slightly to face his father. He didn't answer right away, just gave him a brief look, feeling the weight of the question hang in the air. The answer wasn't simple.
— "I'm… more or less." His voice was flat. He tried to look away, but it wasn't enough to hide the tension building inside him. "But don't worry, the pain'll pass."
Nolan seemed to absorb Kai's words, but his gaze didn't waver. He didn't seem convinced. Silence stretched between them, long — or perhaps, to Kai, time felt frozen.
— "You should've been more careful," Nolan continued, his voice lower, almost like a scolding. "I don't know what made you think that was a good idea."
Kai felt anger rising inside him but quickly suppressed it and said nothing.
Nolan looked at him in a way Kai couldn't decipher. The man was quiet, like he was weighing his words — or maybe forcing himself to swallow the growing guilt. For a moment, it looked like he wanted to say more, but in the end, he chose silence.
— "I just…" Nolan began, as if trying to find the right words, but soon gave up. Whatever he really wanted to say was still stuck. He gave Kai one last look before turning to leave.
— "Recover soon," he said, almost like an order. "There are things we still need to discuss."
Kai watched as he left.
The door closed with a soft click, and the hospital room returned to complete silence.
Fatigue was beginning to creep into his bones, but he kept his eyes on the ceiling.
Nolan might have left, but the weight of their exchange lingered.
What was it he really wanted to say?
After what felt like forever, Kai slowly sat up in the hospital bed, hands resting on the edge of the blanket while thoughts spun in his mind. His now visibly white hair was something he had no way to explain. Not yet. But with every move, every light brush of his fingers against the strands, he knew he'd need a better excuse than mud or stress.
With a sigh, he grabbed the edge of the hospital towel and pulled it off, forcing himself to stand. His immobilized arm still hurt, but it wasn't unbearable. Not right now.
He walked to the hospital bathroom and looked in the mirror.
The white hair was an unwanted warning — a temporary scar he couldn't justify.
It was enough. Time to put things back in order. Time to return to "normal."
In the bathroom, he slowly removed the towel and stared at his reflection. His face was pale, marked by exhaustion and the toll of the void's power — but the hair… the hair was something else.
The whiteness of the strands still looked strange, almost unrecognizable to anyone who knew him. He ran his fingers through it, as if touch alone could undo what had happened.
With a sigh, Kai mumbled the first excuse that came to mind:
"I don't know how, maybe it was the cold river water…"
He almost believed it himself. But quickly shook his head. That wouldn't hold up. He'd need something better. Something believable.
Still touching his hair, he walked back to the mirror and stared into his own reflection.
The thrill of the camp, the adrenaline of the rescue... all that now felt distant.
He pulled the hospital cap back over his head and returned.
The door opened again. Nolan entered once more, his posture as rigid as ever and his gaze as unreadable. He held Kai's clothes in his hands. Approaching silently, he studied his son with that unmistakable expression — as if he always had something to say, but never did.
The silence hung between them for a few seconds before Nolan finally broke it.
— "Are you ready to leave? Your mother's worried, waiting at home. This place is two hours from there. I was already nearby, so I came straight here."
His voice was flat, more of a statement than genuine concern. He seemed more troubled by Kai being there than by his actual condition.
Kai didn't reply immediately — just looked at him, studying his face.
Nolan was acting strange. Even more distant than usual.
— "Yeah…" Kai answered curtly. "Just need to get dressed."
No more words.
The handing over of the clothes happened in silence — a gesture that spoke more than any conversation might. Like Nolan's way of softening the fact that there wasn't much left to say between them.
Kai took the clothes and stood slowly. His immobilized arm still ached, but he didn't care about the pain. His concern was about appearances — about hiding what shouldn't be seen.
Without rushing, he changed in the hospital bathroom.
When he looked in the mirror, the white hair was the first thing that stood out — but he knew what had to be done.
He carefully pulled the hood of his jacket over his head, hiding the strands.
It was wide enough to conceal what needed to stay hidden.
Kai stepped out of the bathroom — now closer to a normal version of himself.
He looked at Nolan, who waited patiently, posture as unyielding as ever.
— "Let's go." Nolan finally said — the word sounding more like an order than an invitation.
Kai followed in silence, feeling the tension in the room… and at the same time, relief that his biggest concern was still concealed. The white hair was still there — but for now, invisible.
As they left the hospital with Mark, the weight of what lay ahead still lingered over Kai.
He knew the excuse would have to come later — and that it might not be convincing.
But that didn't matter now.
What mattered was keeping up appearances.
Not revealing who he really was.
For now, the curtain of silence he had built around himself would be his best disguise.
Early Morning of the Same Day — Grayson Residence
The muffled sound of wind slicing through the sky filled the silence between them. Nolan held both sons in his arms as he flew over the sleeping suburbs, still bathed in the shadows of the night sky. The city below seemed unaware of what had happened.
Mark was quiet, his head resting on his father's shoulder. His eyes were heavy, thoughts scattered. The scare, the hospital, the rushed exams, Kai's casted arm… it all still felt like a bad dream.
Kai, on the other hand, stayed awake. He wore his hoodie pulled tight, the hood covering his hair and tied at the neck. His casted arm rested firmly against his body. Despite the lingering pain, what bothered him most was being near Nolan.
As soon as they landed in front of the house, Nolan opened the door carefully, using just a finger. The interior was dark, but a faint lamp in the living room revealed Debbie, asleep on the couch, the phone still in her hand.
She must have waited until she couldn't stay awake any longer.
Nolan touched down softly, without waking her. He stood for a moment, watching her face — tired, but peaceful. There was something about the way she slept... something he didn't fully understand.
Without a word, he picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. He returned a few minutes later, silently, to get the boys.
— "Let's go," he said quietly. "Time to sleep."
Kai and Mark climbed the stairs slowly. The exhaustion weighed on them. Silence accompanied them.
When they reached the bedroom, Mark entered first and sat on the bed. Nolan looked at them for a moment. His eyes lingered on Kai longer than he would ever admit.
— "Are you... cold?" he asked, noticing the boy hadn't taken off his jacket or hood.
Kai nodded almost automatically.
— "Yeah. I think so... The adrenaline wore off." — his voice came out soft, convincing. He looked away as he lay down, pulling the blanket carefully to avoid moving his broken arm.
Nolan seemed to accept the explanation. But he stood there, as if searching for something he didn't know how to name.
Mark looked at his father with sleepy eyes.
— "Thanks for coming, Dad."
Nolan nodded, his expression still neutral. He wasn't good at this. With words. With feelings.
— "You did well," he said. "You stayed together. Protected each other. That's... important."
There was a pause.
— "What happened could've been worse," Nolan continued, almost hesitantly. "But... you handled it. Better than many adults would."
Mark smiled faintly, but Kai just closed his eyes.
Nolan stepped forward and sat on the edge of Mark's bed. The hallway light cast long shadows into the room.
— "Mark… about what I said that night… about who I am…" — he seemed to be choosing his words carefully. "I want you to know that, even though I come from somewhere else… this house… you guys… you're still part of what matters to me."
Mark simply nodded, his eyes barely open. Nolan raised his hand, hesitated… then gently brushed his son's hair.
He stood, gave one last glance at Kai — who was pretending to sleep — and turned off the light.
As he closed the door, Nolan stood in the hallway for a few seconds. Alone. Silence returned.
Near Noon That Same Day — Grayson Residence
The scent of pancakes lingered in the kitchen like a warm hug. Debbie hummed softly, seated while waiting for the boys to wake up. She was trying to maintain the routine. A way to pretend everything was still normal. That her kids hadn't spent the night in a hospital. That one of them hadn't come back with a broken arm.
The table was already set when Mark came downstairs, eyes still squinting, hair a tangled mess of sleep. He dropped into the chair and let his arms slump across the table with a heavy sigh.
— "Did you sleep okay?" Debbie asked, her tone soft but attentive.
— "Sort of…" he replied, rubbing his eyes. "My head's still spinning from all that."
— "I can imagine." — She approached with the plate of pancakes. — "You two scared the hell out of me yesterday. When Nolan called to say you were alright… it felt like the ground came back under my feet."
Mark looked at the pancakes for a moment before picking up his fork.
— "It was really scary," he said. "We were on the trail, then heard a noise… and everything collapsed. We fell into a cave. I thought… I thought we wouldn't make it out."
Debbie sat across from him, listening attentively.
— "Kai… he pulled everyone back when the cave started to fall. Like… fast. Really fast. And when he tried to pull me from under the rocks… that's when he broke his arm."
She narrowed her eyes.
— "He pulled you all out of the cave?"
Mark hesitated for a second, still unsure of everything that happened.
— "Not from the cave, the firefighters did that… But he helped a lot. He knew what to do and told us everything… I guess we all helped each other. It was kind of… confusing."
Debbie didn't press further. But she made a mental note.
Kai came downstairs a little later, his steps slower, arm in a sling and wearing a long-sleeved light shirt. No hood, finally. But his hair… was completely different. A platinum white hair… yet surprisingly well. Almost... stylish.
— "Morning," he said softly, still cautious.
Debbie stared at him for a long moment. Her eyes went straight to his hair.
— "Kai… what happened to your hair?"
He sat beside Mark carefully. Took a breath. He had already thought this through. The best lie always contained a little truth.
— "I think it was stress." — Kai purposely looked away, signaling that he was lying.
Debbie raised an eyebrow, placing her hands on her hips.
— "What do you mean?"
— "It's… kind of weird," he began, looking at his hands on the table. "After the accident, I got… anxious. I couldn't sleep."
Debbie crossed her arms, watching him with mild concern.
— "And what does that have to do with your hair?"
Kai shrugged, trying to look embarrassed.
— "I went to the bathroom, tried to take a shower to relax, you know? Then I saw a little jar in the cabinet — some old product. It said 'lightener' or 'bleach'… not sure. I thought it was just shampoo for oiliness or something. I used a bit."
Mark's eyes widened, stifling a laugh.
— "You did that here?! Because… last night your hair was still normal."
Kai shook his head.
— "Yeah. Before bed. But I was kind of loopy, you know? Maybe it was the pain meds from the hospital. I should've read it better. When I looked in the mirror this morning… it was done."
Debbie frowned.
— "You bleached your hair… in the middle of the night?"
Kai let out a theatrical sigh, leaning forward.
— "I wasn't thinking straight, Mom. Seriously. I thought it was something else. It was a weird night, everything happened so fast, I just wanted… I don't know, to feel normal again. I think I kind of lost it for a second."
Silence followed.
Mark let out a muffled laugh full of pancake, shaking his head. Debbie sighed, unsure whether to laugh or be concerned.
— "You could've burned your scalp, Kai."
— "Half-asleep, I could've burned anything," he said, laughing.
She studied him for a moment longer. Then exhaled through her nose, resigned.
— "Alright. I want to see that jar later. And we'll do a scalp check just to be safe."
Kai nodded, almost relieved. The lie had worked — and technically, it wasn't entirely a lie. He had found an old bottle of something in the laundry room while looking for things that night. He just hadn't used it.
Mark was still watching him, impressed with the smooth performance.
— "Dude… sometimes you seem like a genius, sometimes you bleach your hair because you were sleepy," he said, laughing.
Kai laughed too.
A smile that didn't last long.
As much as he wanted to seem calm… he still remembered Nolan's eyes, watching from above the cave.
That image still burned in the back of his mind.
Debbie ran her hand through her hair, taking a deep breath as she watched her children.
The tension she had felt the night before still lingered over her shoulders like a thin fog, but seeing the two of them there, sitting at the table, eating pancakes and exchanging words — and laughter — brought a soft relief.
— "Just promise me that next time, you'll read the label before using anything on your hair," she said, still eyeing the platinum strands.
— "I promise," Kai replied with a slight smile, though deep down he knew he couldn't promise to avoid other kinds of transformations.
The sound of heavy footsteps in the hallway caught the attention of all three.
Nolan appeared, hair messy and wearing an old gray t-shirt that looked like it had survived countless washes — and possibly one or two space explosions. He stopped at the kitchen doorway, squinting against the soft morning light.
— "Coffee?" he asked, his voice still rough from sleep.
Debbie stood automatically and went to the coffee maker while Nolan entered the room, observing his sons with a lazy gaze… until his eyes landed on Kai.
He froze.
Literally.
Nolan's eyes locked on the top of the boy's head.
For a moment, it felt like time had stopped. His gaze narrowed slightly, the muscles in his face tensed almost imperceptibly — but not to Kai.
Kai didn't look away.
He watched his father with rehearsed calm.
— "That's… new," Nolan finally commented, pulling out a chair and sitting down slowly.
— "We already had that talk two minutes ago," said Debbie, handing him the mug. — "He thought it was shampoo."
— "Or stress," Kai added with a half-smile. — "I'm choosing to believe that version."
Nolan took a sip of coffee, not taking his eyes off his son. As much as he tried, he couldn't ignore the fact that, even tired and with his arm in a sling, Kai seemed… different.
It was more than the hair.
There was something in his eyes — something more hostile than usual. A firmness. A weight children that age shouldn't carry.
— "Just the hair?" Nolan asked, in a tone that meant to sound casual… but didn't.
Kai tilted his head slightly, pretending confusion.
— "What do you mean?"
— "Your arm… is it okay? You're not feeling anything else… unusual?"
— "Besides the shame of looking like a 90s boyband singer?" Debbie chimed in, smiling.
Kai smiled. — "No. Just that... and the arm pain."
Nolan smiled back.
Mark, unaware of the subtle tension between the two, stuffed another bite of pancake into his mouth.
Nolan turned to him.
— "And you? You good?"
— "Yesterday was nuts," he said, mouth half full. — "The trail, the landslide, the noise… the cave… I remember trusting Kai. Like, completely. But thinking back now… I don't even know how he knew what to do. It just felt like… following him made sense."
Debbie looked at Kai.
Then at Nolan.
Kai held his mother's gaze — proud, but worried.
Nolan turned to Kai with guilt hidden in his expression.
— "You did well," he finally said, focusing again on his coffee. — "Staying calm. Working together. That's more than many adults could manage."
Mark nodded enthusiastically.
— "We worked like… a team, you know? Everyone helping out. Even Derick, who was panicking, managed to keep it together with July screaming at him."
— "That's good," Nolan said. — "Very good."
Kai remained silent.
Not because he had nothing to say — but because he couldn't stand Nolan's presence.
Still, he held back. For Mark. For Debbie. To pretend everything was normal.
The morning light streamed gently through the kitchen windows, painting the domestic scene in golden tones. For a brief moment, it felt like the outside world didn't exist.
No caves, no powers, no suspicions.
Just pancakes, coffee, and the silent presence of a family trying — in its own way — to move forward.
After breakfast, Mark went upstairs, saying he needed to "check some notes Becky and Derick left in his backpack" — but really, he just wanted some quiet. His body still felt the weight of the previous night.
Kai stayed at the table a little longer, lost in thought. Debbie washed the dishes calmly, trying to keep her mind busy. Nolan stood by the back door, coffee cup now empty in hand, staring at the garden as if waiting for something to emerge on the horizon.
— "You want lunch later?" Debbie asked without looking at him.
— "Maybe," Nolan replied, still fixed on nothing.
Kai watched the two silently.
He knew Nolan was acting stranger than usual, even while trying to pretend nothing had changed.
Maybe it was guilt.
Maybe doubt.
Or maybe just his Viltrumite nature trying to process the failure of a plan that never came to pass.
Silence stretched on.
— "Mom…" Kai said, finally breaking it. — "Can I go out for a bit later today? Just to get some air. I won't go far."
Debbie looked at him for a moment, drying her hands with a towel.
— "If you're feeling okay and won't strain your arm… it's fine."
Nolan turned his face. A slight eyebrow raise — almost imperceptible.
— "Alone?" he asked.
— "Yeah," Kai answered. "Just to clear my head."
— "As long as you tell us first and take the flashlight from the drawer," said Debbie, putting away the plates. "And no climbing trees or playing ninja in the park with that cast."
Kai gave a half-smile.
— "No promises."
Nolan stepped away from the door and went to the living room. He turned on the TV, but didn't pay attention to it. The sound was just a background hum.
Debbie approached Kai and gently touched his good shoulder.
— "Go get some rest. You still look pale."
— "Okay," he said, getting up. "Thanks for the pancakes."
She smiled, kissing the top of his now-white hair.
Her expression no longer one of intense worry — but of deep care. Of quiet acceptance.
Even without understanding what had happened to her son… she chose to trust him.
Kai climbed the stairs slowly.
In the bedroom, Mark was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, simple headphones plugged into a small portable radio. When he saw his brother, he pulled one side off.
— "You going out?"
— "Later," Kai replied. "Just a walk. Need to think."
— "You always need to think."
— "And you always need explanations."
Mark laughed, turning to his side.
— "Seriously… thanks for yesterday. I know it… got bad. But I knew that if you were there, we'd make it out."
Kai didn't answer immediately. He sat carefully on the opposite bed and looked out the window.
— "I didn't do much. Just luck."
— "It was you." — Mark insisted. "Even without doing anything. When you're around… it just feels like things are going to be okay."
That hit Kai like a soft whisper in the chest.
Mark's simple words resonated more than any gesture.
It wasn't about powers. It was about presence.
Kai let out a light sigh.
— "Don't count on me too much next time. What if I bleach my hair again?"
Mark laughed out loud.
— "Would be cool if I did it too. We'd look like anime villains."
— "The difference is, you look like the protagonist."
Mark smiled again and closed his eyes.
The room fell into silence.
Kai, on the other hand, kept his eyes open. Fixed on the sky outside.
The wind gently rustled the tree leaves.
The sun was beginning to tilt — revealing the start of a new afternoon.
But inside him…
everything still burned.
Omission That Generates Action
The sky was already tinted with a weary orange hue when Kai stepped out the back door of the house, wearing a light jacket, the sling hanging discreetly at his side. The sleeve of the jacket partially covered the cast, and the hood — now part of his temporary identity — hid the still-white strands of his hair.
Debbie watched from the kitchen window, but said nothing. She simply followed the boy with her eyes as he crossed the backyard like someone walking inward, into himself.
Kai walked along the sidewalk to the old neighborhood park — the same one he had so often used to isolate himself to run, climb, and train. Today, though, he wasn't seeking sweat or speed. He wanted to feel. To understand. To repeat.
He passed abandoned playground equipment, rusted metal slides that creaked in the wind, and made his way to a clearing between two gnarled trees. There was a rock there — about the size of a school backpack. Perfect.
He sat on it, took a deep breath… and closed his eyes.
"Breathing. Control. Focus on the flow…"
The Six Eyes weren't necessary now. What he sought came from deeper. From that subtle pressure he felt when pulling space in the depths of the cave. The same cold heat that pulsed inside him just before everything went black.
He raised his hand — the good one — and extended it forward, fingers pointed at a dry leaf on the ground.
— "Blue…" he whispered, more to himself than to the world.
For a few seconds, nothing happened. The air remained still.
But then… a slight distortion. A blur in the space in front of his fingers. The leaf trembled. It wasn't pulled, it didn't fly. It just… tilted.
Kai slowly opened his eyes. His heartbeat remained calm. No euphoria.
— "I can activate it…" he murmured. "But that's it."
It wasn't like last time. Back in the cave, everything had been instinct, urgency. Back there, the force came like a violent tide he could barely control.
Here, now, it was like trying to relight a fire with a damp match.
And even so… there was something.
Kai closed his hand, canceling the flow. He felt no pain, no exhaustion. Maybe his body was beginning to adapt to the constant presence of the void's energy.
He was about to try again when a nearby sound made him stop.
A muffled sob.
Kai turned his head. The sound came from behind a group of low bushes, where there was an old wooden bench leaning against a broken fence. He approached cautiously, his steps nearly silent on the dry grass.
There, curled up in a corner, was a boy, alone. He couldn't have been more than 8 years old, maybe less. Dirty T-shirt, worn-out sneakers, red eyes, and a backpack thrown to the side.
Kai stopped a few feet away.
— "Hey," he said in a neutral tone. "Are you lost?"
The boy looked up, startled. The tension in his face eased slightly when he saw it was just another kid — despite the white hair and cast.
— "N-No…" the boy replied. "I just… didn't want to go back home right now."
Kai frowned, but didn't come closer.
— "Why?"
The boy hesitated. He glanced at the fallen backpack.
— "They fought again. My mom and… her boyfriend. I got scared. Snuck out."
Kai lowered his gaze for a moment. That wasn't uncommon. Nor new. But it still hurt to see.
— "Are you okay?"
The boy nodded, but his voice trembled:
— "Yeah. I just… wanted someone to notice. That's all."
Kai fell silent.
For a moment, he thought about just turning away. Not getting involved. That was his deal with himself. But… there was something in that boy's eyes. Something he had seen before. In the reflection of the hospital window. In the memory of that child he didn't save.
"Just wanted someone to notice…"
Kai exhaled slowly through his nose.
— "You live around here?"
— "The next block over. Blue house, with a crooked tree in the yard."
Kai nodded.
— "I'll walk with you. Just to make sure you're okay. Is that alright?"
The boy hesitated… then nodded too.
Kai helped him lift the backpack. And together, they walked slowly along the sidewalk. The sun was already hiding behind the houses, coloring everything in a faded gold.
He didn't use any power. He didn't do anything that anyone else couldn't have done.
But this time… he did something.
And that, for now, was enough.
Kai took a deep breath, watching the boy for another second.
— "I'll take you home. Come on."
The walk was silent. The boy walked with his shoulders hunched, eyes always on the ground. Kai, beside him, kept his gaze steady ahead. He knew it wasn't his role to be there… but he was. And this time, he wouldn't run.
The blue house with the crooked tree in the yard wasn't hard to find.
When they arrived, the door was ajar. The TV inside was blaring too loudly. Some variety show shouted nonsense while canned laughter filled the gaps.
Kai stopped on the sidewalk.
— "You can go in by yourself?"
The boy hesitated.
— "I think so…"
He took two steps, then stopped. Looked back at Kai, as if he wanted him to say something. As if he didn't want to be alone.
Kai let out a slow breath.
— "Alright. I'll go with you to the door."
They climbed the two steps to the porch together. Kai knocked on the door with his elbow, since his arm was in a cast. The boy's mother appeared seconds later — oversized T-shirt, sunken eyes, a cigarette in hand, and the strong smell of alcohol and neglect in the air.
— "What is it now?" she said impatiently upon seeing her son. Only then did she notice Kai.
— "And who the hell are you?"
Kai stepped forward. His face emotionless, his voice firm and low.
— "Your son was at the park. Alone. Crying. Said there was a fight here."
She scoffed.
— "Oh please. He's always being dramatic. And who are you to stick your nose in my business?"
Kai didn't blink. Didn't raise his voice. But his words came out sharp as a blade.
— "Someone who knows there are too many adults in this world treating kids like problems. And too many kids wishing they'd disappear just so someone would notice."
The woman frowned, surprised. She expected just another kid. But that look… it wasn't the look of a child.
— "Do you even know what you're talking about, boy?"
Kai stepped closer. The dim room light highlighted the white strands escaping his hood.
— "I do. More than I wish I did."
For a moment, everything went silent.
The woman looked away. Muttered something and opened the door fully.
— "Go on, get in. And don't run off like that again."
The boy obeyed silently. But before stepping inside, he looked once more at Kai. His lips moved into an almost-smile. It wasn't gratitude, nor joy. It was just… recognition.
Kai nodded slightly. Then, without another word, turned and stepped off the porch.
Night had already fallen by the time he returned home. The streetlights cast long shadows along the sidewalk. The air was cold.
But for the first time in days… Kai felt, in some way, lighter.
Monday — Elementary and Middle School
The schoolyard looked the same as always — children's voices mixing with the sound of the bell, dry leaves sliding across the ground. But for someone who had been inside a collapsing cave three days earlier... everything felt different.
Kai arrived alongside Mark, the two walking side by side. Kai still wore a sling and a long-sleeved shirt beneath a light jacket. But what really drew attention was his platinum-white hair. The hood had stayed home, and now, in daylight, the strands stood out like a silent banner.
It didn't take long for the stares to start.
— "Wow…" — Becky muttered as she met the brothers at the gate. — "You're looking… stylish now, Kai?"
— "Or old," added Derick, with a smirk.
Kai raised an eyebrow.
— "Chemical accident. Mixed bleach with anti-dandruff shampoo. Wouldn't recommend it."
All three laughed — more from the surprise of seeing him joke about it than from the joke itself.
— "But seriously," Becky said, gently tugging Kai by his good arm. — "Are you okay? After everything...?"
Kai hesitated for a moment. Then nodded.
— "Yeah. Just the arm. And the scare."
The truth was something else. But no one there needed to know that.
In class, the students who had been at the camp were called in small groups to a little room filled with colorful pillows and posters with motivational phrases stuck on the walls. A young and cheerful psychologist welcomed them with a soft voice and memorized lines.
— "I want to know how you're feeling… it was a difficult situation, wasn't it?"
Kai was in the last group, alongside Mark, Becky, July, and Derick.
While the others talked, Kai remained silent, eyes fixed on a shelf of children's books. One of them — with a shiny cover of smiling dragons — seemed absurdly out of place. But it wasn't the book. It was him.
When it was his turn to speak, the psychologist smiled kindly.
— "And you, Kai? How was that moment for you? Did you feel afraid?"
Kai looked at her for a second. Then answered with a calm emptiness:
— "It was weird. But we just… kept going."
— "You mean you managed to stay calm?"
— "I mean… there wasn't really a choice."
The woman furrowed her brow slightly but didn't press.
— "And afterwards? How have you been feeling?"
Kai finally lifted his gaze, and for a moment, there was something in it that didn't match his age. Something heavy. Silent.
— "The same."
The psychologist tried to interpret. Smiled again, jotted something down in her notepad, and moved on to the next question.
But Kai knew that wouldn't change anything.
Because it wasn't the fall in the cave that left a mark. Not the broken arm. Not the fear.
It was the space between all that. The silence between the events. The senseless gap he had carried since his other life. A hole no one could see. An echo not even Blue could pull back.
And that's why, in front of the psychologist, he smiled.
Because a boy who says "the same" after nearly dying… is just an introverted kid.
But a man trapped in a 10-year-old's body? No one wants to see that.
Later at recess...
The midday sun filtered through the trees in the schoolyard, casting fractured shadows on the concrete ground. The buzz of children's voices filled the air — shouting, laughter, snack-trading.
Kai sat in a more secluded corner of the yard, as usual. The shadow of the nearby tree stretched over him, giving him an aura of voluntary isolation. His lunchbox still unopened beside him, while he distractedly twisted the juice lid with his good hand.
But this time, his eyes scanned the yard more than usual.
First he saw Derick — laughing loudly, as if the world hadn't nearly collapsed around them days before. He played with other boys, balancing a plastic bottle on his head and trying to cross a line drawn on the ground.
Then Becky, sitting with July under a tree, sharing a granola bar while the two whispered between smiles.
Kai watched it all without expression, but with attention.
"They're okay..."
The tension he hadn't even realized he'd been holding in his chest slowly began to ease. It was like something had realigned within him — not from relief, but from confirmation.
When he saw Mark approaching with his backpack slung over one shoulder and a cheese bread in hand, he looked back down. The introspective moment was over.
— "You always sit here?" — asked Becky, showing up unannounced with her tray balanced.
— "Almost always," Kai replied flatly, only shifting his gaze toward her.
— "We're eating over there by the stairs. Come."
He didn't answer immediately. Becky didn't push. She just shrugged and walked off.
A few seconds later, Mark showed up, with Derick behind him, balancing a bag of chips like a trophy.
— "Come on, man, sit with us," said Mark. — "July brought dessert. The one with chocolate and crunchy stuff on top."
Kai glanced sideways at the four gathered together. Laughing. Talking about something the teacher said in class. It didn't feel forced. It was… welcoming.
He sighed softly. Picked up his lunchbox.
— "Alright. But don't make me talk too much."
When he sat with them, Derick immediately pulled a pen from his pocket.
— "Signature time, hero. Every cast needs an official team autograph."
— "And from the best handwriting in class," said Becky, already holding her pen.
Kai raised an eyebrow.
— "You guys are seriously going to scribble on my broken arm?"
— "Of course," said July, gently pulling his arm. "It's how we say thank you. We didn't forget what you did."
For a moment, Kai hesitated. The touch on the sling, the looks. It was as if the simple act of writing on his cast was more than a school joke. It was recognition. A bond.
Derick drew a crooked lightning bolt with the inscription "Derick – survivor #1."
Becky wrote, "Thanks Snowhead. – B."
Mark simply drew a heart with an "M" inside. Without saying anything.
And July, finally, wrote in small letters next to a star, just below the curve of the sling: "I was here."
He looked at the words for a moment. Didn't smile. But he didn't pull his arm away either.
— "You guys talk too much," he said, trying to sound indifferent.
But there was a slight tremble in his voice. As subtle as the wind rustling the leaves above them.
Derick bit into a chip and said with his mouth full:
— "You should paint the other arm just so we have more space."
— "Or break it again," Becky joked, laughing.
— "Now that's overdoing it," Kai murmured.
— "Don't worry," said Mark. "We'll sign you with or without a cast next time."
— "Next time? I haven't even recovered from this one," said Kai.
For a moment, time seemed suspended there with them. Amid laughter, dessert crumbs, and words written in pen on the cast of a boy who didn't want to be noticed — but who, that day, was remembered as someone who had been there.
Someone who made a difference.
Later that afternoon — Leaving School...
The sun was beginning to dip, tinting the sky with soft shades of gold and blue.
The sidewalk in front of the school was crowded with children being picked up, backpacks bouncing against their legs, honking cars, and impatient parents.
Kai and Mark walked side by side at an easy pace. Kai's arm was still bandaged, swaying lightly in the sling. Mark munched on a squished snack he had found at the bottom of his lunchbox.
— "You could be more open with people, you know?" — said Mark between bites. — "They like you. Even though you're… you."
Kai cast him a sideways glance.
— "That's the problem."
Mark burst out laughing.
— "Dude, you're so weird."
— "I know."
Silence returned — but this time, it wasn't awkward. It was comfortable. Familiar.
— "I'm glad you were there," said Mark after a while. His voice was softer now, almost shy. — "In the cave. If it hadn't been for you…"
Kai kept his eyes on the horizon. The trees swaying in the distance. The sound of children laughing behind them.
— "Me too," he said simply. But full of truth.
Mark smiled and took the last bite of his snack.
And they walked on, like brothers. One step after another, in the silent rhythm of those who don't need to say anything more.
Interlude — "Between Lines and Casts"
Part 1: The Snap
A few days had passed since the Rock Cliff accident. School life gradually returned to its usual pace. But for Kai, everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. Every movement of those around him, every word thrown in the hallway, every sigh of boredom in class… everything felt more vivid, more exposed.
It was during one of those moments — between the end of class and the walk home — that Kai saw it.
Across the courtyard, near the back fence area, four middle school boys were cornering Derick. They weren't exactly hitting him. But they were pushing. Shoving. One of them knocked Derick's pencil case to the ground and laughed loudly as he kicked a pencil far away.
Kai was on the second floor, where he could see everything clearly. When he looked at his own casted arm, he saw a childish, shaky, but colorful signature:
"Derick – survivor #1" — written by Derick days earlier.
He took a deep breath.
"Not today."
Kai went down the stairs without haste. As he approached the group, none of the older kids noticed him. They were laughing, swearing quietly, provoking with the typical air of juvenile superiority.
— "Something wrong here?" — Kai asked, voice low but firm.
The four stopped, turning slowly. One of them, the tallest, raised an eyebrow.
— "Buzz off, snowhead. This ain't your business."
Kai took another step. He looked at each of them. Evaluated them calmly…
— "You talk too much," he said, then moved his good arm with precision.
Strength that wasn't from a child. A quick touch to the spot between the shoulder and neck. The tallest boy dropped to his knees, eyes wide, his arm numb for a few seconds.
— "What the…?" — one of the others muttered.
— "You've got two seconds to disappear. Teacher's already on the way."
They scattered without a word. Derick stood frozen, barely able to react.
— "Kai… wow... thanks…"
Kai just nodded, no smile.
— "Go back to class."
He turned and walked back inside.
Later that day, around lunchtime, Kai was walking through the central cafeteria when he saw, from afar, the same four bullies. They were scattered around a table, laughing loudly, one of them pointing at Kai's cast and mocking his hair.
— "Look at that, the grandpa disguised as a student!"
— "Did he escape from the psych ward?"
This time, Kai didn't respond. He simply kept walking calmly… and activated the Six Eyes for a brief moment.
The void energy remained dormant, but his perception of the environment expanded like a 3D map. A tray barely balanced on the sink's edge, a wobbly cup swaying with the fan's rhythm, a forgotten apple at the edge of a table, ready to roll...
Kai walked calmly between the tables. He dragged a bench with his foot, placing it subtly behind one of the boys. With his other leg, he kicked an empty can toward a nearby table.
The domino effect was almost artistic.
As he passed the first of the boys, he gave a light shoulder bump — nothing that could be called aggression, but just enough to break his balance.
The boy stumbled backward, hit the bench Kai had moved seconds earlier, and fell, knocking into the second, who, off balance, smashed a cup of juice into his own pants. The third tried to run from the chaos but stepped squarely on the apple and slipped into a clumsy spin, knocking over a tray and hitting his chin hard on the edge of a table. The fourth froze, looking around in panic, pretending he didn't know any of them — as if shame were contagious.
Laughter exploded in the cafeteria. Kai kept walking as if nothing had happened, never breaking his stride, never looking back.
"Funny how chaos just needs a little push." — he thought, as he calmly picked up his juice box from the table and walked toward the exit like it was any other day.
From afar, a teacher who had seen it all — the same one who had witnessed Kai's responses during the confrontation with the former teacher Lorraine — let out a stifled chuckle, shaking his head.
— "That kid…"
Part 2: Cracks
That night, while the house slept, Kai carefully removed the cast. He sat on his bed, took a deep breath, and examined his arm attentively. No sign of pain. No stiffness. It was… perfect.
Far beyond what a broken arm should be after just a few days.
He ran his fingers over the skin, feeling the tendons respond naturally to his touch. Slowly flexed it. Nothing. Not even discomfort.
"Viltrumite regeneration," he thought. "It's happening."
But it was still early. Exposing that would raise suspicions. And he still didn't know who else might be watching. So, with the same calm he used to take it off, he improvised a fake reinforcement on the cast and reattached the sling.
Two more weeks. Just to be safe.
Then, he looked at the palm of his hand. Felt the slight tremor… and a warmth rising from somewhere deep within.
"The void energy is changing too…"
Kai got up, walked to the window, and looked out at the clear sky.
"If I'm going to understand this… I'll need to go deeper." — "But this time… I won't hold back."
The reflection in the glass returned his stare — heavy eyes and white hair, which only returned to its normal color two weeks later.
Part 3: Silence and Bloom
Chicago, Illinois — 2008
The room was bathed in soft dimness, pierced only by thin beams of light leaking through the blinds. The ceiling was decorated with faintly glowing stars — remnants of a childhood that felt more distant than it truly was.
Sitting in the corner of the bed, Eve Wilkins held an old construction toy. Her tired eyes were fixed on the object as if trying to disassemble it with sheer thought.
With a quiet sigh, she rearranged the toy's pieces with her hands, forming a molecule.
She held it carefully. Excited as she tried to understand, studying molecules.
On the other side of the door, muffled voices.
— "She can't keep doing these things! It's going to draw attention!" — that was her father.
— "Maybe she's just smarter than the others, the things she… it's strange, but they seem to form something." — her mother's voice followed.
— "It is strange! That's the word. Maybe we're the ones who shouldn't keep pretending she's normal..." — said the father, his tone lower now. — "What kind of kid prefers building and drawing symbols instead of playing?"
Eve closed her eyes. Lay down on the bed as a tear rolled down her cheek.
And there she grew… different.
Without understanding why she didn't fit in, or why she was alone...
Global Defense Agency Headquarters
Confidential Location
Surveillance cameras, monitors showing energy patterns, and a massive satellite feed dominated the observation room.
Cecil Stedman held a lit cigarette between his fingers while reviewing a digital report on his desk.
— "We've got another report from the Phoenix area. Small energy manifestation last night. No damage. Just structural alteration in plastic material."
The analyst beside him flipped through images on a tablet.
— "Could it be a clandestine lab, sir?"
— "I don't know. That's what I want to find out."
Cecil took another drag, exhaling slowly.
— "Let's keep passive surveillance on the region."
The analyst nodded.
— "And the Illinois incident? That camp rescue…"
— "Reports say one of the students, Kai Grayson, was fast enough to get the others out of the way before the collapse. Impressive reflexes, but nothing outrageous enough to warrant a formal investigation. Not yet, anyway."
The analyst hesitated.
— "That's all?"
Cecil closed the file on the monitor.
— "He's Nolan Grayson's son. If there's something... it'll show itself in time. Until then, we leave him alone."
He stubbed out the cigarette in the heavy glass ashtray in front of him and muttered:
— "Some seeds need to grow on their own before we see what kind of tree they'll become."
The monitor ahead quietly updated itself.