Day two of training began without any sign or signal.
He woke up naturally, before the alarm, his eyes opening slowly as morning light filtered into the room. For a few seconds, he stayed still, listening to his breathing, checking his chest. There was no pain this time. No tightness. Just a quiet awareness, like something inside him was awake but choosing not to speak.
He sat up on the bed.
Day two, he thought.
After finishing his usual morning routine—washing his face, brushing his teeth, changing into comfortable clothes—he stood near the window and looked outside.
The world moved on like nothing had changed. Birds flew past. Distant vehicles hummed. Life felt ordinary.
“School starts after six days,” he said softly to himself.
“I have time… time to control it.”
That thought grounded him.
He picked up his phone and lay back on the bed, searching carefully this time. He typed words he had never imagined searching before.
Power manipulation.
Kinesis.
Awakening abilities.
Mind control.
Dozens of results appeared—videos, articles, forums. Some claimed instant success, others spoke about years of discipline. He watched, read, scrolled. Different cultures, different beliefs—but as he went deeper, one common idea repeated everywhere.
Meditation.
Control the breath.
Calm the mind.
Understand yourself.
He put the phone down immediately.
Sitting on the floor, he crossed his legs, straightened his back, and rested his hands on his knees. He closed his eyes slowly, just like the videos suggested.
Focus, he told himself.
Feel it.
He inhaled deeply. Exhaled slowly.
Seconds passed. Then minutes.
Nothing happened.
No warmth in his chest. No glow behind his eyes. No voice.
He tried again—slower breathing, clearing his thoughts, forcing himself not to think about anything.
Still nothing.
His forehead tightened in frustration.
“Why now?” he whispered. “You appeared yesterday… why not today?”
He opened his eyes, staring at the floor in silence.
Then, without warning, a different thought slipped in.
Her.
Her quiet smile.
The way she stood slightly apart from others.
The calm she carried without trying.
As her image formed in his mind, something stirred faintly inside his chest—soft, familiar.
Just then—
“Breakfast is ready!” his mother called from the kitchen.
He flinched.
The feeling vanished.
Letting out a slow breath, he stood up and walked to the table. He ate quietly while his parents spoke about normal things—traffic, plans, daily routines. He nodded when needed, but his thoughts stayed elsewhere.
After breakfast, he stepped outside.
The air felt sharper today, clearer. He walked slowly around the open space near his house, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. His heart beat faster as he stopped near a fallen leaf.
He raised his hand slightly.
Move, he thought.
Nothing happened.
He tried again with a small stone.
Lift.
Nothing.
Frustration crept in. He walked a few steps, turned back, focused harder—imagining energy flowing, pressure building, something responding.
Still nothing.
“Maybe I imagined everything,” he muttered.
Unaware of what happened behind him.
The leaf trembled—barely noticeable.
The stone shifted just enough to disturb the dust beneath it.
He didn’t see it.
He kept walking, believing he had failed, unaware that the world was responding—not to force, but to presence. The power wasn’t gone. It wasn’t refusing him.
It was growing—quietly.
And so was he.
Slowly.
Unnoticed.
But undeniably awakening.
Thankyou for reading
By-SF MASTER
If the story has any mistakes, I m sorry for it
