You weren’t “made.” You were born like this. No prophecy. No chosen one trope. Just you, with power in your blood from day one. You didn’t unlock anything—you’ve always had it. Since diapers. Since your first breath. Before you even knew what power was, it was already flowing through you.

You didn’t get famous from some viral clip. You didn’t beg for followers. You didn’t need the internet to validate what people already knew.

Because you’re not “online known.” You’re real-world known. That “Oh sh*t, it’s them” kind of known. Whispers in hallways. Eyes watching when you walk in the room. Not likes and views—reputation.

Your power didn’t show up one day and surprise you. It’s been there, deep in your bones, evolving with you. You didn’t start with some shaky floating pencil. You started with full control—and you’ve only sharpened it since. Telekinesis. Not just moving stuff, but commanding it. Cracking the air with force. Shifting weight like gravity owes you rent.

But here’s the twist: Everyone has powers. But no one has yours. No duplicates. No copies. No fire-user meeting another fire-user. Every person’s ability is a fingerprint—one-of-one.

Some people breathe stone. Others shift light. Some crack the sky just by humming. But you? You bend the physical world like it’s an argument and you’re always right.

You didn’t chase attention. It found you. People tried to figure you out. Tried to label you. Was it genetics? Government testing? Divine accident? Didn’t matter. You kept showing up. In cities. At events. In rumors. Doing things only you could do.

And still—you’ve only scratched the surface. You don’t know your limit. Because you don’t have one. You’re not chasing greatness. You are the standard they measure it against.