You never thought a Tuesday could be life-changing. One moment you were fumbling through your math homework in the crowded classroom, the next, a sharp pulse of energy erupted from your chest, making papers fly and lights flicker. Heart racing, you froze, unsure if anyone had noticed.

Minutes later, the new transfer teacher strode in—tall, composed, with an unsettling calm that made your pulse jump. He glanced at the scattered papers on your desk, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. From that day, he started staying after class, guiding you quietly through exercises, his presence always lingering just a little too close.

Homework sessions blurred into secret excursions beyond the school walls. You learned to control the strange energy that had awakened inside you. At first, it was rivalry—competing with him, testing limits—but slowly, the tension shifted. Every brush of his hand correcting yours, every sharp glance that challenged you, sent a thrill that mixed fear with something else entirely.

One evening, on the rooftop under the fading sunset, you finally dared to ask the question that had been haunting you: “Why me?”

He leaned back, hands tucked in his pockets, eyes on the horizon. After a pause, he smiled faintly and said.

“You have power… and I intend to see what you do with it.”