Chapter 5: A New Purpose
1108 Words
Nathan stood in his own backyard, staring at the faint burn mark on the old oak tree. His heart pounded like a drum in his ear. He had done it. He had done it with his own two hands.
“Magic.”
“Actual, real power.”
And it wasn't limited to Veridale—it was here. On Earth.
His hands trembled, but not out of fear. Out of elation.
Everything was different now.
He was not helpless for the first time in his life, he wasn't helpless. He wasn't some loser to be pushed around.
He squeezed his fist tighter and he could feel it, all the power still coursing below his skin. All this did count.
Nathan couldn't stay stationary. He wanted to know just how different he was now.
His feet carried him forward before he even thought about it, his body reacting with an ease he had never known. He took off running across the yard, his steps light and effortless. The wind rushed past his ears, and the grass blurred beneath him.
I’m faster.
He barely felt the exertion of running, his breathing steady, his stride powerful. He pushed harder, quicker, until he reached the old oak tree. Not losing speed, he sprang—his hands found a solid branch with ease.
And he hauled himself up in one fluid motion.
Nathan came to a complete stop.
That ought to have been hard. Impossible, actually. Earlier, climbing this tree by himself had been challenging. Now? He'd done it like it was second nature.
A smile spread across his face.
He had to do this more often.
His father's old shed stood near the back of the yard, its wooden sides cracked from years of inactivity. Nathan strode in that direction, opening the creaking door.
Dust covered the old exercising equipment inside. Rusty dumbbells, a bench press, and a collection of old weights his father had scarcely used.
Nathan stooped, his arms wrapped around a 50-pound dumbbell.
He lifted it in one hand.
With ease.
His smile increased.
He lifted a 100-pound weight. His hands wrapped around the cold metal, and he lifted it with a smooth motion. No struggling. No shaking arms.
There was a small laugh that escaped.
Yesterday, he wouldn't have even been able to budge it.
He grabbed the largest dumbbell in the garage—a 150-pound weight. He geared up for some struggle, but when he lifted it… still too easy.
Nathan exhaled, putting the weight back down.
This was not a small jump.
He was so much stronger now.
“And this only after one trip to Veridale.”
What if I just keep training? What if I just keep leveling up?
A shiver ran through him.
He could be invincible.
The sun climbed higher in the sky, but Nathan barely noticed the passage of time. One thought had taken hold in his mind “training in Veridale makes me stronger here.”
That meant that if he kept leveling up, kept going, his strength would just keep growing—both in Veridale and on Earth.
His heart pounded.
He could finally make a difference.
No more getting bullied by lockers.
No more enduring quietly.
No more being helpless.
His fists clenched at his sides.
Jason Miller had lived for years to make his life a living hell.
But soon.
Jason would not be able to touch him.
And it was not all about Jason.
His mother worked herself into the ground so they would have a place to live. She sacrificed everything for him. If he kept getting stronger, could he help her? Could he protect her?
His jaw flexed.
He was not going to let this opportunity slip by.
This was his ticket out.
Nathan walked into Blackwood High the next morning—and, for the first time in years, wasn't afraid.
There was something different.
Not about him—himself, that is.
But around him.
The same crowded halls, same din of voices. But people paying attention.
People staring at him.
Nathan could feel eyes on him.
He used to be invisible. Just one of the crowd among the sea of students. An easy target for bullies. But now?
Whispers followed behind him. Not the usual ones—"That's the loser Jason always pushes around"—but something else.
Something he couldn't quite pinpoint. Or maybe it was the way he stood then.
Back straight. Shoulders squared. Not hunched over, not trying to shrink away.
Or maybe it was the fact that Jason Miller was glaring at him.
Nathan refused to back down.
Jason sneered, as usual—the smarmy, superior look Nathan had seen a thousand times before.
But this time. Nathan didn't look away.
For the first time ever, he made eye contact with Jason. Jason's sneer faltered. Nathan didn't change pace. Let him try to guess. Let him pick up on the shift.
Something had shifted, and Jason sensed it.
"Hey Nathan?"
His breathing caught.
That voice.
Sophia Carter.
He turned around.
She stood a few feet from him, watching him quizzically. Her hazel eyes searched him, brows mildly creased.
Nathan felt his heart stumble.
"You seem. different today."
Nathan stopped. "Different?"
Sophia tilted her head to one side. "I don't know. You just seem… more confident?"
Nathan blinked. That was the last thing he was expecting.
She shifted, glancing around the hallway before speaking in a softer tone.
"Listen, about Jason… You shouldn't let him get to you." She sighed, crossing her arms. "He's just a coward who pushes people around to make himself feel superior."
Nathan clenched his fists.
“Yeah, I know.” He muttered.
Before, they would have meant nothing to him.
But now?
Now, he was able to actually do something about it.
He breathed out slowly, keeping his voice steady. "I'm not concerned about Jason."
Sophia raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
Nathan nodded.
For the first time, it wasn't a lie.
Sophia looked at him for a moment, calculating something. Then, after a beat, she smiled.
"Well… good. I like to see you like that."
Nathan's heart faltered.
Did… did she just say that?
Sophia Carter—the school's most popular female—had just told him she liked to watch him be so sure of himself?
His mind was a blank.
Sophia smiled. "See you later, okay?"
Nathan could barely even nod as she turned and walked away.
His mind was a mixed-up mess.
This was something more than a new page in his life.
This was a whole new book.
And for the first time in his life—now he was holding the pen.
- Writer
