Ash hadn't slept again.
Not because of the time echoes or drone diagnostics, or even the constant ticking in his mind from a timeline fraying at the edges. This time, it was something else.
He had seen stars in the mirror.
Not reflections.
Not illusions.
Actual constellations—etched into the whites of his eyes like faint burns.
They pulsed when he blinked.
When he focused.
And once, when he touched Falcon's wing, the stars shimmered brighter, almost responding.
> "Biological augmentation intensifying," Echo confirmed in the early hours.
"Phase thread resonance is accelerating."
Ash didn't fully understand the science—not yet. But the feeling… that was harder to ignore.
It felt like his body wasn't just adapting.
It was remembering.
---
He walked to school slower that morning, hoodie drawn up to hide the shimmer in his eyes. Even in daylight, there was a soft glow to them now. Faint. Almost beautiful.
Peter caught up halfway to Midtown High. "You good?"
Ash nodded. "Didn't sleep."
Peter gave him a look. "That's becoming your whole brand."
They shared a laugh, but it didn't last. Ash kept scanning the street corners, rooftops. He could feel something watching.
Not human eyes.
Bigger.
Older.
---
Third period science class was a blur. Ash couldn't focus. The molecular diagrams on the projector screen looked like star maps. He kept tracing patterns with his pen, unconsciously drawing circuits that didn't belong in this century.
The stars in his eyes pulsed again.
> "Contact approaching," Echo whispered through his neural HUD.
"Non-hostile. Quantum-tagged."
Ash stiffened.
He looked to the classroom door.
And just like that… he was no longer in class.
---
The room around him had vanished.
He stood instead in an empty void.
A dome of stars stretched above and below him. He couldn't tell what was sky and what was floor.
And across from him stood a boy—about his age. Taller. Pale. Hair white like frost. Eyes glowing silver, filled with swirling galaxies.
"Ash," the boy said with a smile. "You finally woke up."
Ash took a defensive stance. "Where am I?"
The boy tilted his head. "Nowhere. Between seconds. Just needed to speak where they couldn't listen."
"They?"
The boy nodded. "The Inheritors."
Ash's heart beat faster.
"You know them?"
"I was like you once," the boy said. "Born of a dying world. Rebuilt into something the universe wasn't ready for."
Ash narrowed his eyes. "You're Corp-tech, too?"
The boy gave a faint smile. "Something older. Think… Proto-Corp. I walked the stars before your kind ever reached the moon."
Ash hesitated. "Then why help me?"
"Because you're about to become more than just a survivor."
He pointed.
And suddenly the stars shifted around them—showing visions.
Ash saw himself flying through the air with Falcon beside him. Then leading a group of other enhanced teens—some familiar, some alien. Then standing at the edge of a collapsing reality, hands glowing with a light too ancient to name.
"You're more than what they made you," the boy said quietly. "But you have to choose to become it."
Ash stepped back. "I didn't ask for this."
"No one ever does," the boy said. "But destiny doesn't need permission."
Ash swallowed. "What happens if I don't?"
The stars dimmed.
"Then you become exactly what they fear: a broken echo. A remnant. And when time collapses again… you'll vanish with it."
---
Suddenly, Ash was back in class.
Mrs. Keller was still lecturing, unaware that anything had changed.
Peter was still doodling atoms on his notebook.
But Ash's eyes were different now. He could see the drift—the way time bent slightly around the projector. The way molecules vibrated off-rhythm in the walls.
He could hear the quantum hum of the world unraveling.
And the boy's final words echoed in his mind:
"They'll come for you soon. But they'll offer you a choice first."
---
That evening, Ash stood on the rooftop with Falcon again.
"Echo," he whispered, "run a scan on my retinas."
> "Celestial markers identified."
> "Designation: Phasewalker Glyphs. Dormant until now."
Ash looked up at the stars.
Somewhere out there, his origin waited. Or maybe it wasn't out there at all—maybe it was behind him, buried in the timeline he never meant to carry into this one.
Falcon beeped softly beside him and extended a wing across Ash's shoulder.
Ash chuckled. "You're getting emotional, buddy."
The drone chirped once in reply.
Ash turned his eyes toward the city skyline.
A figure stood on a distant rooftop—hooded, still.
Watching.
Waiting.
---
> NEW DATA ENTRY:
PHASEGLYPH ACTIVITY INITIATED
TEMPORAL STABILITY: 72%
DRONE LOYALTY: 98%
ANOMALOUS CONTACT: CLASSIFIED — "THE BOY WITH THE STARS"
WARNING: INHERITORS INBOUND