Ascension Beyond Mortality

The alarm clock buzzed at 6:00 AM.

Elior Rae didn’t move.

The gray morning light leaked through the dusty window, casting stripes across his crumpled bedsheet and the unwashed dishes on the counter nearby. His small apartment smelled like instant noodles and damp clothes. It wasn’t much, but it was what he had.

He finally sat up, running a hand through his messy black hair. His hoodie from yesterday lay on the floor, wrinkled and stained with coffee.

“Another day in paradise,” he muttered.

He didn’t expect greatness anymore. Not after years of rejection letters, missed opportunities, and the silence that followed his parents’ disappearance when he was sixteen. They’d vanished without a trace. No police help. No clues. Just two empty chairs at the dinner table and a hole in his chest that never fully closed.

Now twenty-five, Elior worked long shifts at a small café, rented a tiny room in a crumbling building, and kept his dreams locked in the dusty corner of his mind.

By 7:00 AM, he was already on the bus, half-asleep and ignored by the world.

People scrolled through their phones. Others laughed or stared blankly at their reflections in the window. No one noticed him. They never did.

“I used to think I was meant for something more,” he thought, resting his head against the glass. “But maybe this is it. Just another background character in someone else's story.”

The café was already busy when he arrived.

“Late again,” his manager snapped. “One more time and you’re done.”

Elior just nodded. He didn’t argue anymore. Arguing didn’t pay rent.

By noon, his hands were shaking from nonstop work. By evening, his back ached. When his shift ended, he didn’t feel relieved—just empty.

That night, Elior climbed up to the rooftop.

The city glowed beneath him—cars, lights, noise—but none of it felt real. The wind tugged at his hoodie. He stared at the sky, waiting for a sign.

Any sign.

“Is this all there is?” he wondered. “Work, survive, die?”

And then, it happened.

A faint shimmer ran through his fingers. Barely noticeable—like heatwaves under his skin. He blinked, held his hand up to the moonlight.

Gone.

"What the hell was that?"

He rubbed his eyes, thinking maybe he was just exhausted. Maybe it was nothing. Or maybe…

Something had

begun to awaken.

Not in the world.

In him.