The door to Ron’s dorm creaked open, the faint smell of damp socks and instant noodles wafting out. He dropped his backpack onto the bed, the weight of the artifact pulling at his thoughts like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

The room was small and cluttered, a single window letting in just enough moonlight to outline the piles of books and crumpled papers scattered across the desk. Ron kicked off his shoes, slumped into the creaky chair, and pulled the artifact from his bag.

It looked dull now, its glow entirely gone. But as he held it, a faint warmth spread through his fingers again.

“What are you?” he whispered, turning it over in his hands.

The carvings seemed meaningless at first glance, but the longer he stared, the more they looked... familiar. He felt a tug in his mind, like a memory just out of reach. Shaking his head, he shoved the artifact back into his bag.

“I need sleep,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes.

He stood to change into his nightclothes when a strange sensation stopped him mid-motion. The tiny clock on his desk ticked loudly, each second echoing in his ears like a drumbeat. The faint rustle of leaves outside sounded deafening. Even the hum of the refrigerator in the corner seemed amplified.

Ron froze, glancing around the room. Everything looked normal, but it didn’t feel normal.

Curious, he reached for the half-empty water bottle on his desk. The moment his fingers wrapped around it, he noticed the weight, the texture of the plastic, even the temperature of the water inside. He squeezed it lightly, and the bottle crumpled with almost no effort.

“What the hell?”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

He let go, watching the bottle spring back into shape, and took a shaky breath. Was he imagining things?

Deciding to test his theory, he grabbed a pen from the desk and held it in front of him. Then, without thinking, he tossed it across the room.

The pen shot forward like a bullet, embedding itself into the corkboard above his bed with a loud thunk.

Ron blinked.

“Okay, that’s... not normal.”

He paced the room, his mind racing. The artifact—whatever it was—had done something to him. Enhanced his senses? His strength? It didn’t make sense, but there was no denying it.

Ron glanced at the bag on his bed, the faint outline of the artifact visible beneath the fabric. A part of him wanted to get rid of it, to throw it into the river and forget it ever existed. But another part—a louder, more insistent part—wanted to know more.

What else could it do?

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The next morning, Ron woke up with a clarity he hadn’t felt in years. He wasn’t groggy, his head didn’t ache, and he felt... energized. For the first time in months, he didn’t hit snooze on his alarm.

By the time he reached the campus cafeteria for breakfast, he’d already finished two chapters of a textbook he’d been avoiding for weeks. The equations and concepts, once incomprehensible, now felt laughably simple.

He slid his tray onto the table, sitting across from his roommate, Jay, who was busy scrolling through his phone.

“Morning,” Ron said, grabbing a slice of toast.

Jay glanced up, raising an eyebrow. “Morning? You? Before nine? Are you okay? Blink twice if you’re being held hostage.”

“Very funny,” Ron said, rolling his eyes.

“Seriously, what’s with you? You’re usually half-dead by now.”

Ron shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Just... slept well, I guess.”

Jay gave him a skeptical look but didn’t press further.

As they ate, Ron’s mind wandered. The artifact’s effects weren’t just physical—they were mental, too. Concepts he used to struggle with were now second nature. His mind felt sharper, faster, like a computer that had just been upgraded.

But with that realization came a nagging question: Why him?

Why had the artifact chosen him? What was it meant for?

Ron didn’t have answers, but one thing was certain—he couldn’t tell anyone about it. Not Jay, not his professors, no one. If word got out, his life would never be the same.

For now, he decided, he’d keep the artifact hidden.

But deep down, he knew this was just the beginning.