When a meteor crashes into Hyunjin's life, it doesn't just leave a crater-it changes everything.
Embedded within it was an ancient relic, a forgotten piece of a lost civilization, that fused with his very being, granting him superhuman abilities fa...
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The soft hum of music drifted through Hyunjin's bedroom, mixing with the faint rustle of papers as he flipped through his textbook. It was still early—too early for his taste—on a Saturday morning, and a pale, golden light filtered through his half-drawn curtains. The cool autumn air seeped in from the cracked window, carrying with it the scent of damp leaves and distant chimney smoke. Outside, the world was quiet, still waking up. Inside, his room was a small, personal haven. His desk was cluttered with open notebooks, pens, and a coffee mug half-filled with cold, forgotten coffee. He sat slouched in his chair, scribbling notes, trying to ignore the dull ache pulsing in his bandaged hand.
Hyunjin's bedroom was a reflection of himself: organized chaos. Posters of bands he liked lined the walls, and his closet door hung slightly ajar, revealing a mess of clothes that hadn't quite made it to the laundry basket. The bed behind him was unmade, the gray duvet tangled from restless sleep the night before. He'd woken up feeling heavy, not just in body but in mind, like he'd been carrying the weight of his thoughts for too long.
The accident in the cafeteria still lingered in his mind, and every time he glanced at his bandaged hand, it reminded him of how careful he needed to be. Hyunjin rarely made mistakes with his powers, but that day... He wasn't sure why—maybe stress, maybe something else—but it bothered him. The sight of his hand, wrapped in white, only deepened his unease.
Suddenly, his phone buzzed, the vibration rattling against his desk. He glanced at the screen, seeing Jisung's name flashing. He let it ring for a second before lazily picking it up.
"Yoooo, Hyunjin! What're you doing right now?"
Hyunjin sighed, pushing his pen aside and leaning back in his chair. "Homework," he muttered, glancing at the notes scattered across his desk.
There was a loud groan on the other end of the line. "Alright, screw homework. Get ready—I'm picking you up at twelve."
Hyunjin frowned, confused. "What?"
Jisung's voice was insistent, and Hyunjin could almost picture him rolling his eyes. "We're going out—to the festival. Please, man! We barely go out anymore, and you're always busy."
"The fair? Isn't that, like, for little kids?" Hyunjin rubbed the back of his neck, still not sold on the idea.
"Are you allergic to fun?" Jisung groaned again, the sound dramatic and exaggerated. "You better be ready by then, or I swear I'll cut off that precious hair of yours. Oh, and Seungmin's coming too. See you!"
Before Hyunjin could protest, the call ended with a click. He stared at the phone for a moment, blinking, trying to process the conversation. He sighed, leaning his head back against his chair, staring up at the ceiling. The last thing he'd wanted was to go out today, he'd really wanted was a day to himself—maybe to just lie in bed and clear his head.
