The three boys eventually parted ways, their footsteps echoing along empty sidewalks as the sun dipped behind the horizon. The city, bathed in silver twilight, exhaled a breath of wind cool, steady, and oddly quiet.
The Streetlights flickered on blessing the streets with lights all round while the stars filled the sky like a dark blue canvas that had diamond across it bringing clarity to those who gazed at them. Leaves whispered across the pavement, as it filled the streets, Drax smiled because if the trees were losing their leaves it meant that they would gain new ones meaning a new beginning.
Drax walked alone, hood over his head, dreads slightly swaying as the breeze brushed against him. His hands were shoved into his pockets, and though his body moved on instinct, his thoughts wandered far ahead toward tomorrow, toward what might be.
The Awakening loomed over his mind like a storm cloud edged in sunlight.
Home came into view: a small apartment building with peeling paint and a rusted railing that groaned under his weight as he climbed the steps. The familiar creak of the front door greeted him, followed by warmth and voices.
"Drax?" his mother's voice called from the kitchen, warm and welcoming.
"He's back," added another, sharper voice his sister, Asha.
He stepped in and closed the door behind him. The scent of stew filled the air, cozy and familiar, and for a moment, the weight in his chest loosened but then again food brought an ease to everything that was a problem.
Asha poked her head out from the hallway, one brow arched and arms folded.
"You look like you fought gravity and lost which isn't a good sign."
Drax cracked a tired grin.
"I did fight gravity. It's called school and i must add that its unbeatable."
He dropped his bag onto the couch and collapsed beside it.
His limbs sank into the worn cushions, the weight of the day pressing down harder now that he was still.
He closed his eyes, breathing in deep. Silence stretched around him. Not the absence of sound but a quiet filled with the echoes of memory which made the young man the person he is today.
He saw his mother crying silently at the kitchen table last winter, trying to hide the final notice from the landlord. He saw his sister standing between him and a man who tried to shove him on the street, with his anger ready to burst like a wild animal. He remembered scraping by on bits of joy, on laughter between broken lights and cold dinners however even then his family survived.
But he also saw his friends Kade and Seronio laughing under streetlights, fighting with fists and banter which made his life more brighter and also more painful, dreaming about a future none of them could fully see.
And then he saw it the Awakening. Tomorrow. The one chance to change everything.
"Let it be something strong," he thought. "Let it be something that makes a difference. Let me protect them."
A voice pulled him out of his thoughts.
"You seem tired…" Asha said gently.
Drax opened his eyes and turned his head slightly. She stood beside the couch now, arms crossed but gaze softened. Her eyes were sharp and always watchful they were the kind that missed nothing.
"I thought you'd be more excited about tomorrow."
He gave a small shrug, letting his head sink deeper into the couch.
"I am. But being excited doesn't stop you from being tired, you know?"
Asha gave him a smirk and stepped closer. She ruffled his hair something she hadn't done in years and for a moment, Drax didn't stop her. He let her have that moment, because they both needed it.
"You better not flunk that Awakening," she teased. "I'm not babysitting a wannabe warrior."
"Yeah, yeah…" he muttered, but a smile played at the edge of his lips.
Asha turned and walked towards the kitchen, her footsteps lighter than before.
As Drax watched her join their mother in quiet conversation, his heart settled into a quiet rhythm. The fear was still there, humming beneath his skin but so was hope.
And in a world like theirs, hope was something worth fighting for.
Else where Cracked pavement, rusted fences, and flickering streetlights painted the scene in quiet desperation. Amid it all stood Kade, motionless and exhausted, his gaze fixed on the rows of rundown houses that clung stubbornly to existence.
His eyes drifted to a warm glow behind a foggy window. Inside, his mother moved gracefully through the small kitchen, stirring a pot with care, her expression one of quiet peace. For a moment just a flicker his expression softened and within that instant the young man smiled before it vanished. A long, measured sigh escaped his lips.
"Too good for this world," he muttered.
He pushed the door open and stepped inside. The hinges squeaked in protest, but the moment he entered, a high-pitched laugh shattered the silence.
"Kade!"
A small figure hurled towards him his little sister, arms wide, joy radiating from her face without a single worry within the world. He caught her effortlessly, spinning her once before cradling her in his arms. He smiled genuinely and softly as he carried her into the warmth of their home.
The scent of spiced broth and toasted herbs filled the air. In the kitchen, his mother turned to glance at him, her eyes kind but tired exhausted because of work.
"You know I can cook. You should rest," Kade called out, shifting his sister to his hip.
"And let you burn the kitchen down?" she teased, smirking softly. "Besides, tomorrow's a big day. You've got more important things to focus on."
Her voice was gentle, but the words struck something deeper in Kade's chest. He looked at her for a long moment at her worn hands, her faded apron, the lines under her eyes. She deserved so much more. So did his sister. This broken home, this broken life, wasn't enough.
"I'll change it," he thought, his jaw clenching.
He nodded wordlessly and carried his sister into the lounge. The room was dimly lit, the old TV humming faintly with distorted cartoon voices. His sister curled up on the floor, giggling at the screen, her innocence untouched by the weight he carried.
Kade lowered himself onto the worn sofa, fingers steepled in front of his mouth. His eyes, once warm, darkened as thoughts swirled in his mind like storm clouds.
The Awakening Ceremony. A moment that others celebrated an event painted with golden hopes and dreams of power, of change, of glory. But to Kade, it was something else entirely.
"They don't know it." he whispered, the words edged with venom.
This year, for the first time, the slums, the forgotten, the discarded were given a chance to participate. A single chance to claw their way into the hallowed halls of the Academy a place ruled by nobles, polished sons and daughters of power who saw the poor as vermin to be stepped on the mere thought of these egotistical people made something fester within his soul.
His lips curled into a grin. Not one of joy. No, this was a predator's grin sharp, slow, and seething with quiet rage.
"Let them smile," he thought. "Let them mock us while they still can. They think we're weak. Trash. Dirt under their heels."
His fists tightened until his knuckles whitened. A low, breathy laugh escaped him cold, calculated, tinged with mania.
"But tomorrow, the gutters will bleed into their marble halls. And I'll be the first flood."
His little sister turned, eyes wide and innocent.
"Kade?"
He blinked, the storm behind his eyes dissipating for a heartbeat. He forced a smile, one that didn't quite reach the corners of his eyes.
"Yeah, squirt?"
"Why are you smiling like that? You look like a villain like those super supery bad guys."
He let out a short chuckle and ruffled her hair.
"Maybe I am squirt," he said under his breath, too low for her to hear. "Maybe I am."
He turned back to the screen, eyes distant. The cartoons played on, but Kade wasn't watching. He was seeing something else. A future drenched in fire and reckoning. A future where he wouldn't just rise through the system…
Seronio on the hand, was on his bed, he was also lost in his mind. The Awakening Ceremony, while he lived in the back alley that mere fact that they would engage in such a event made him smile. In these hollow corners he fought relentlessly in and lost many fight but also won countless times. The wheels of fate were on the side of him and his friends. Gaining this opportunity made the future bright.
He trained, he laughed and he survived. His father was busy working over night again. But he'd be okay, because he would let his old man rest one day and be happy.
Seronio laid stretched across his thin mattress, the springs beneath him creaking with every subtle movement. The world outside bathed in the cold silver of moonlight that leaked through the cracked blinds giving room chilly atmosphere. But inside his mind, countles memories bombarded him, dreams, and unspoken fears some brought comfort and some made him feel irritated.
He stared at the peeling paint on the ceiling, his arms folded behind his head, his black eyes that seemed devoid of light were glassy with thought. The Awakening Ceremony. Just the name alone made something deep in his chest stirred a fire that had never gone out, even during the hardest nights it made his heart roar. Despite the filth-ridden streets and broken corners of the back alley district, they were being recognized. For the first time, they had been given a chance. A real one.
A soft smile tugged at his lips.
"They didn't expect anything from us. But we can change that."
Seronio had bled on these streets. He had bruised knuckles and memories of pain carved into his body. Every alleyway had witnessed his fights some won with grit, some lost with dignity and pride. He remembered fists flying, bones aching, lungs screaming for air. But he always got up. He always stood tall.
Because survival wasn't optional. It was everything.
The back alley didn't offer comfort it but they made it work. It offered a forge and Seronio had been hammered into steel.
"Every blow I took made me harder. Every laugh I shared made me human."
A sharp gust of wind rattled the loose windowpane, and Seronio shifted, pulling the fraying blanket over his chest he allowed his exhaustion to take hold of him and slowly his eyes closed. Taking a deep breath he smelled the old soap and dust, but it was familiar. His mind wandered to his father. The light in his father's eyes had dimmed over the years, worn down by exhaustion and too many night shifts but he never complained, he strived through it all. Tonight was another one his dad was working again, deep into the hours when most people dreamed.
"He shouldn't have to keep breaking his back while I chase mine."
Seronio's chest ached at the thought.
"One day, I'll give him more than survival," he whispered into the dimness. "I'll give him rest. I'll give him pride."
His hands curled into fists over his chest, not in anger but in promise. The Ceremony wasn't just about awakening powers. It was about awakening futures. And his would be one worth fighting for.
Tomorrow, he would step forward not as a shadow of the slums but as someone forged in them.
And the world would finally see him.
However somewhere across the distance, far from the backalley, a old man sat behind his desk. His eyes grey and white long hair flowed down.
"Tomorrow will be the day."