“Pretenders, prepare to face the Hero of Humanity!” called the lone figure standing atop the grassy hill, his voice only half-serious as he struck a dramatic pose against the orange glow of the setting sun.

A gust of wind blew across the field, whipping through his hair and sending his makeshift cape flapping behind him in what he hoped was a majestic display. Below, a group of small figures wobbled menacingly, their own sticks raised as they pointed them upward.

“Yes, we dare, hero!” squeaked the shortest one, her voice high and shrill as she shook her spear with a look of exaggerated determination. “Your ‘legendary’ spear is no match for us!”

“Charge!” yelled another, his voice cracking as he tried to deepen it for effect. “We’ll show him who’s boss!”

The hero tried his best to look unphased, bracing himself as if preparing to face an actual army. He lifted his own spear—a thick stick he could barely wrap his hand around. “Come, then!” he shouted, attempting his deepest heroic voice. “But know that you shall face the full power of my… somewhat legendary spear!”

But just as he prepared to “charge”, a voice called out across the field.

“Kids! Time for dinner!” their mother called from the distant house, interrupting their fateful clash.

The mighty hero lowered his spear with a reluctant sigh, sharing a glance with his foes.

“Dinner break,” he announced, dropping his heroic tone entirely.

“Coming, Mom!” they called out, tossing their weapons to the ground

They broke into a run, racing back across the open field towards their home, where their mother had left a door open for them. The grass swayed beneath their feet, and the cooling evening wind brushed their hair. Their house grew larger as they approached, a two-story wooden house with traces of smoke coming from the chimney. The surroundings were open and endless, vast plains stretching towards the horizon, interspersed with the occasional tree or bush.

The house itself looked quite lived-in, with large windows and a gently sloping roof. The porch was lined with their childhood trinkets: a carved wooden horse, a few colorful stones, and a well-loved old ball that had lost its color from years in the sun.

As they reached the house, their mother stood at the doorstep, her arms crossed, a faint grin as she watched them skid to a stop.

“Did the ‘Pretenders’ lose again?” she asked, arms crossed, trying to keep her tone serious, though mirth slipped through.

“Only because the hero had a dinner break,” a boy replied, grinning as he wiped dirt from his face.

“Lucky for him,” she said, chuckling as she ushered them inside. The warmth of their home wrapped around them, the faint smell of stew wafting from the kitchen.

As they tore through the doorway, the house greeted them with the familiar smell of roasted herbs. Floorboards groaned under their feet as they raced to the dining room, noses lifted like dogs following the delectable scent of their mother’s food. Inside, the house was modest but filled with signs of family life. Framed photos lined one wall, depicting moments of laughter, birthday parties, and family hikes across the nearby hills. Their father’s old sword hung on the opposite wall, gleaming even in the low light.

In the center of the dining room, a large feast welcomed them; roasted meats, freshly buttered bread, and a pot of steaming soup, their favorite, that gave off a delectable aroma.

Jeremy, with his dark hair sticking up wildly, plopped down in his chair, his blue eyes widening at the spread before them. Next to him, Andrew, his red hair still messy from playing outside, eyed the food with equal excitement. They shared a similar build, tall for their age, with Andrew slightly more slender, while Jeremy was a bit broader-shouldered, already taking after their father’s stature.

“You three seem so excited for tomorrow,” their mother said as she sat down. “I thought you’d never come back to the house tonight.”

Their mother, tall and lean with hair as red as a gemstone, began serving herself from the nearest bowl. Despite her gentle demeanor that endeared her to those around her, her piercing green eyes hinted at centuries at wars far beyond their imagination. As her gaze lingered on each of her children, a flicker of sadness danced across her expression, before it vanished.

“No Mom, that wasn’t just playing,” Jeremy protested, looking at the large slab of meat in front of him. It was massive, easily larger than his forearm, and he eagerly dug in. “We were practicing for our epic fight tomorrow.”

Alicia rolled her eyes, pausing only to sip her soup. She was her mother’s splitting image, with her fiery hair and fierce stare, though her blue eyes—a gift from their father—sparkled mischievously. “Epic fight huh? Even after we get our Status tomorrow, we’ll still need, what, years of training to do any actual fighting?”

“Maybe you’ll need years, Alicia. I bet my Skill will be way cooler than yours,” Andrew teased, flicking a piece of bread her way. “With my Skill I’ll defeat a hundred Jeremys with both hands tied behind my back.”

“A hundred?”, Jeremy scoffed, wielding his fork like a sword. “I won’t even need a Skill to beat up a thousand Andrews!” He thrust his fork, still sporting a piece of meat on it, at Andrew, flinging sauce in the process.

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Their mother sighed. “What did I say about using your fork as a spear, Jeremy?” She wiped off the few drops that made it on to Andrew’s shirt and stopped him from pointing his own fork at Jeremy. “Now, hurry up and eat. You three need to be up before sunrise for your Status awakenings, and you’ll need all the energy you can get.”

Alicia, fighting a grin, dabbed her mouth with a napkin and pushed back from the table, already finished before either of her brothers had noticed. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll make sure these two don’t sleep through it,” she said sweetly, slipping from her chair and heading to the doorway. She paused, throwing the boys a sly glance over her shoulder. “Or maybe… I’ll let them sleep in. That way, I’ll be the only one who gets their Status tomorrow.” With a mischievous laugh, she bolted up the stairs.

“Wait, no! That’s not how it works, right?” Jeremy’s head whipped from his sister’s retreating form to Andrew. “Right?”

Andrew grinned, patting Jeremy’s shoulder in mock sympathy. “How about you sleep in tomorrow and tell us what happens. Don’t worry bro, Alicia and I’ll come visit while you’re still waiting for next year’s Status.”

“Andrew, stop scaring your brother,” their mother shook her head, hiding a grin as Jeremy looked at her, panicked. “And if you have time to tease, you have time to eat. Look at your sister, she’s already done with hers.”

Andrew and Jeremy shared a look before quickly pouncing on their dinner, racing to see who finished first. A few minutes and a messier table later, Jeremy declared victory before their mother shooed them upstairs to wash up and head to sleep.

As they headed up the stairs, Jeremy glanced nervously back down toward his mother. “Mom, are you sure we’ll all get our Status tomorrow?”

“Positive,” she called up after him, smiling softly. “Now, go wash up and hurry off to bed. Tomorrow will be here soon enough.”

They vanished up the staircase, leaving the dining room quiet and empty once more. Their mother lingered, gazing at the feast’s remnants and savoring the fading echoes of their voices as she cleared the table, knowing this night would be one of the last where they were all just children under her roof.

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The soft light from the moon poured into the siblings’ room from their window, casting an ethereal glow. The three of them shared a room, spacious with a towering ceiling many times their own height. Each of them had their own bed and dresser, each one placed at a different corner of the room. The centerpiece of the room was a massive fur carpet, its texture sinfully soft, cut from an alien their father had fought during an invasion.

Jeremy snuggled deeper into his blanket, unable to sleep. He watched the motes of dust suspended in the moonlight, the tranquil night only disturbed by his sister’s gentle snoring.

Anxiety gnawed at him. What if he didn’t get his Status at sunrise? Andrew’s teasing echoed in his mind. Would they leave him behind? What if he was actually a Pretender?

From the other side of the room, Andrew’s voice cut through the silence. “Can’t sleep either?”

“Not really,” Jeremy admitted. “What if… what if we don’t get our Status tomorrow?”

“No way that’s happening,” Andrew replied confidently. “Everyone knows only the Pretenders don’t get their Statuses. They think they can blend in, but they can’t fool anyone when it’s time to unlock a Skill.”

“Yeah,” Jeremy said, feeling a bit reassured. “We’re about to turn thirteen tomorrow, after all. Finally, we’ll get our Statuses like everyone else.” He paused, excitement creeping into his voice. “What kind of personal Skill do you think I’ll get?”

Andrew chuckled. “I dunno, maybe something that’ll make you actually win at our games. But my Skill’s definitely gonna be better than yours.”

Jeremy grinned in the dark. “Oh, really? What if I get a Skill to move super fast? I’d just zoom over to wherever you are and beat you every time.”

“Super speed?” Alicia’s sleepy voice chimed in, with a hint of a smile. “Boys, I think you’re missing the point of Skills. Maybe my Skill will be something useful, like making a bunch of money. Then I’ll be rich while you two are still busy fighting invisible Pretenders.”

Andrew scoffed. “Oh, come on. What kind of Skill would just give you money?”

Alicia shrugged, though her tone softened with a hint of hope. “I don’t know, but maybe I could get a Skill that produces essence, and I could sell it. That way, people wouldn’t have to fight. And then Mom and Dad wouldn’t have to keep going out there, risking their lives.”

Jeremy thought about that for a moment. “That… actually sounds pretty amazing, Alicia.”

“Yeah, alright,” Andrew admitted reluctantly. “That’d be useful. But me, I’d want something like Mom’s skill, where she can just… make people disappear with a thought.” He paused, imagining it. “Then I’d be the one to keep everyone safe.”

At that, their mother’s voice suddenly broke into the room, soft but amused. “So that’s your plan, Andrew? My Skill isn’t a personal one, you know.” She stood in the doorway, having slipped in without them noticing.

Andrew’s eyes widened. “Wait, so it’s something we could actually learn?”

She chuckled, moving over to sit beside his bed and ruffling his hair. “It is. Personal Skills are special—they’re different for everyone, and sometimes they’re not even that useful.” She smiled. “Mine just lets me sense the closest edible object. Makes it easy to catch someone sneaking snacks late at night, doesn’t it, Jeremy?”

Jeremy’s jaw dropped. “So that’s how you always knew!” he exclaimed, pretending to be outraged. “I thought you had super hearing!”

Their mother laughed softly. “Nothing that fancy, I’m afraid. Personal Skills are unique, and they don’t always make us stronger. True strength comes from unlocking and improving other Skills.”

Andrew’s brow furrowed. “But… why can’t we just get powerful Skills from the start? Then we wouldn’t have to worry about anything else.”

Her gaze softened, and she looked toward the window. “If it worked that way, do you think I’d still be out there fighting? Your father, too?” She turned back to them, eyes thoughtful. “Strength isn’t about having the best Skills from the start. It’s about what we build up with time and practice.”

Alicia, looking down at her hands, murmured, “But… what if we’re just not good enough, even after all that?”

Their mother sat on her bed, brushing a lock of hair out of Alicia’s face. “Then that’s perfectly fine, my dear. Everyone knows that school isn’t just about learning to fight.” She glanced at her sons, smiling at them. “You’ll go to school, learn about Skills, and discover what you’re meant to do. And if none of you decide to fight, your father and I will love and support you no matter what.”

They all sat in silence for a while, the weight of her words settling over them, along with the quiet sounds of the night. After a while, she stood, tucking each of them into their beds and leaning down to give them each a goodnight kiss.

“Get some sleep, alright? Tomorrow, you’ll awaken your Statuses, and I don’t want any of you too tired to appreciate it,” she said with a smile, before stepping out of the room and closing the door behind her.