**Chapter 3: Divine Awakening**

The night had a strange stillness, a quiet that settled over the world like a thick blanket, muffling the usual sounds of the city. Alex lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind a whirlpool of thoughts he couldn't seem to escape. Everything felt different now—his skin tingled with an energy he couldn't understand, his thoughts ran deeper, darker, and somewhere deep inside, something had changed. He just didn't know what.

A flash of light caught his eye, and he turned his head to the window. Nothing but the moon, full and heavy, casting long shadows across his room. Yet, there was a pull, a sensation he couldn't name, drawing him to it.

With a heavy sigh, he pushed the covers off and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. The floor was cool under his feet as he stood and moved to the window, the weight of something unseen pressing on his chest. Outside, the world seemed frozen in time, every leaf, every blade of grass perfectly still, as if holding its breath.

As he stared into the night, the pressure in his chest grew. It was an ache, a yearning for something he couldn't put into words. He closed his eyes, trying to make sense of it, but all he found was darkness. And then, in that darkness, something shifted.

A warmth spread through him, starting in his chest and radiating outward, filling him with a light that was both comforting and terrifying. His breath caught, and his eyes flew open, but the world outside remained unchanged. It was inside him that the transformation was happening. He could feel it—a power, ancient and overwhelming, rising from the depths of his soul.

*What is this?* he thought, panic tightening his throat. He stumbled back from the window, his heart pounding in his chest. But no matter how far he moved, he couldn't escape the feeling. It was a part of him, an undeniable truth that had been buried for so long, now forcing its way to the surface.

His vision blurred, and he sank to the floor, clutching his chest as if he could hold the power back. But it was useless. The warmth grew hotter, more intense, until it felt like fire coursing through his veins. He gasped, struggling to breathe, as the world around him seemed to dissolve into nothingness.

And then, just as quickly as it began, the heat subsided, leaving him trembling and weak. But the power remained, simmering just beneath the surface, waiting to be unleashed.

*I'm not… just me,* he realized, the thought coming to him with startling clarity. *I'm something more.* The idea should have been absurd, but deep down, he knew it was true. It had always been true.

Memories flooded his mind—flashes of his childhood, moments he had dismissed as strange coincidences. The time he had fallen from a tree and walked away without a scratch, the time he had wished for something so desperately that it had appeared before him the next day, as if by magic. And his mother's words, always spoken with a hint of sadness: *One day, you'll understand, Alex.*

Now, finally, he did. He wasn't just Alex, the ordinary guy living an ordinary life. He was something else entirely. Something divine.

He felt the truth of it settle into his bones, a certainty that left no room for doubt. But with that certainty came fear. What did it mean? What was he supposed to do with this power? And why had it chosen him?

A sharp knock at the door shattered his thoughts. He froze, staring at the door as if it might burst open at any moment. *Who could be here at this hour?* The knock came again, louder this time, more insistent.

"Alex?" a voice called from the other side, muffled but familiar. Mark.

Alex let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He stood on shaky legs, still feeling the remnants of that strange energy pulsing through him, and opened the door.

Mark stood in the hallway, his face pale and worried. "What's going on?" he asked, eyes darting over Alex as if searching for signs of what he had just experienced. "I heard something—like a crash. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Alex lied, though the words felt heavy on his tongue. "Just a bad dream. Nothing to worry about."

Mark didn't look convinced, but he nodded slowly. "You sure? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Alex forced a smile. "I'm sure. Just… tired, I guess."

Mark hesitated, then finally sighed. "Okay. If you say so. But if you need anything, I'm just next door."

"Thanks, Mark," Alex said, his voice softer now, filled with gratitude. He didn't know what he would do without his friend, even if he couldn't tell him the truth.

As Mark turned to leave, Alex caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror by the door. His reflection looked the same—brown hair, sharp features, a tired expression—but his eyes… His eyes were different. There was a light in them, a flicker of something ancient and powerful, something that had always been there, hidden beneath the surface.

He closed the door and leaned against it, closing his eyes. The fear was still there, gnawing at the edges of his mind, but so was the power. And as much as it frightened him, it also filled him with a sense of purpose. He didn't know what that purpose was yet, but he knew he couldn't ignore it.

*You're something more,* the voice whispered again, softer this time, almost a comfort.

Alex took a deep breath and stepped away from the door, his resolve hardening. He wasn't sure where this path would lead him, but one thing was clear: there was no going back now. His old life was gone, replaced by something far greater, and far more dangerous.

With that thought, he walked to the window once more and stared out at the night. The world looked the same as it always had, but he knew better now. The change was inside him, and it was only just beginning.

*I am more,* he told himself, the words feeling truer each time he repeated them. *I am divine.*

And with that, he turned away from the window, a new determination settling in his chest. Whatever came next, he would face it. He had no other choice.