The Wolfe Household


    The taste of metal on my gums was cold but soothing. It was strange, being reborn—remembering my old life while stuck in a body that refused to listen to me.


    But I didn’t let it get me down.


    Our home wasn’t extravagant, but it wasn’t like the commoner dwellings either. It was made of real stone, not the synthetic material most people used. The furniture had weight—hand-carved, heavy, built to last.


    But the real giveaway that my father wasn’t just some average man were the small things.


    A dusty mantel clock with gold inlays, ticking just a second off from the holo-clock on the wall. Porcelain cups my mother still used for tea, too delicate for everyday life. And in my father’s study—a coat of arms, half-covered by books.


    I didn’t know what it meant. But I knew enough to tell he was trying to hide it.


    Still, I didn’t care about my father’s past. I was busy with my own secret—learning how to function in this new body while carrying the mind of a man who had once ruled the sky.


    <hr>


    A Second Chance at Childhood


    Sara, my mother, and Dom, my father, were good people. Loving. Attentive. They took care of me, and I adapted quickly.


    By the time I was three or four, I was speaking in full sentences. Sara never stopped gushing to Dom when he came home.


    "He’s so smart, Dom! He figured out the puzzle I got him right away!"


    I had to stop myself from laughing whenever she said things like that. It really was child’s play to me.


    My mother was beautiful—long black hair, pale skin that made her look even more striking. She had a soft warmth about her, the kind that made people feel at ease. My gruff-looking father had definitely lucked out big time.


    As soon as my legs let me, I was walking. Then running.


    Sara gave up trying to corral me pretty quickly. She just made sure there was nothing too dangerous for me to get into—except my father’s watch.


    It was old, with a metal casing that had seen better days. Something about it felt off, but also familiar.


    <hr>


    A Hidden Power?


    One day, while I was still messing around with my father’s watch, I noticed something strange.


    The time on it was always a couple of seconds ahead of the holo-clock on the wall.


    Curious, I adjusted it back.


    The moment I did—


    The dust in the room froze midair, hanging like snow.


    The music Sara had been listening to in the other room slowed to a crawl, each note stretching endlessly.


    Time itself had almost stopped.


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    Then—


    The world went black.


    <hr>


    An Argument & A Revelation


    When I woke up, I was in my mother’s arms.


    She was scolding my father.


    "That thing is dangerous, Dom!" she snapped.


    "Sara, if he has the talent for Psy, we shouldn''t discourage him," my father argued. "Let him learn. He’ll be ahead of his peers—no doubt about it."


    "Bullocks." She glared. "You just want to impress your squad mates. You want him to follow in your footsteps."


    "Would that be so bad?" My father leaned forward, voice quieter now. "Our son has been blessed. Most people would jump at the idea—"


    "Because they don’t know what it costs."


    There was something dark in her voice, something that made my stomach twist.


    "You left on your own terms, Dom. Not everyone gets that choice."


    Silence.


    For the first time, my father had no counterargument.


    That was the first moment I realized—my mother was afraid of something far greater than my abilities.


    <hr>


    The Next Few Years


    The next couple of years were intense.


    Dom would come home, sit me down, and place some old device in front of me—something that stood out in this futuristic society.


    "Focus," he’d say.


    I’d stare at it, waiting for instructions. But instead of explaining, he’d just jot down notes in a small pad. Whenever I asked him what he was writing, he’d shrug and say, "Just keep concentrating, kid. Try to find its true nature."


    For a five or six-year-old, I had no idea what he meant. But I didn’t mind.


    At first, nothing happened.


    Then, after a while, certain objects would catch my eye—things that felt... different.


    A pocket watch. An old revolver. A zippo lighter. A coin.


    Whenever I stared at them, I felt something shift.


    And I could tell Dom noticed too.


    He never let me touch them. Just observe.


    "Find its true nature," he would say again.


    Whatever that meant.


    <hr>


    Meeting Marcus & Vera


    One day, Dom came home with a coworker—a tall, serious-looking man who, from my now 8-year-old perspective, looked like a damn giant.


    His name was Marcus.


    Serious. Intimidating. And behind him stood a small girl—his daughter.


    Vera.


    My first impression of her?


    Interesting.


    See, Dom had started letting me mess around in the shed, and I loved it. It reminded me of the old hangars I used to work in back in my past life.


    At that moment, I had just finished taking apart one of our hologravs (a common hoverboard-like vehicle).


    I stepped out, covered in grease.


    Vera took one look at me and froze.


    Her expression was pure horror—as if I had just committed a crime.


    Still, I was wise beyond my years, so instead of reacting, I simply bowed politely and said,


    "Excuse my appearance, miss. I will excuse myself."


    Of course, my face betrayed me.


    It was bright red. After all, I was still a child.


    <hr>


    A Conversation I Shouldn’t Have Heard


    That night after dinner, I overheard my father and Marcus talking in his study.


    Vera, who had been lingering around, snuck up behind me.


    She shot me an indignant look, but stayed silent—she clearly wanted to listen too.


    What I heard changed everything.


    "You should’ve stayed, Dom."


    "And do what?" my father scoffed. "Kneel to men who think bloodline is more valuable than merit? Watch them bleed the city dry while pretending they still have control?"


    Marcus leaned back, voice flat. "They still do have control. That’s the problem."


    Dom let out a quiet, bitter chuckle. "Yeah? Let them rot."


    Vera’s expression hardened.


    She looked at me.


    Scoffed.


    Then left.


    <hr>


    An Unlikely Rivalry & A Friendship


    Vera never stopped showing up after that.


    "So, you’re the genius mechanic?" she asked one day, standing in the shed’s doorway.


    "And you’re the kid playing dress-up?" I shot back.


    She flicked dust off her sleeve. "At least I don’t live in a shed."


    I clenched my fist. "At least I build things instead of waiting for life to happen."


    For a moment, she just stared at me.


    Then, to my surprise—she smirked.


    "Hmph. We’ll see about that."


    And that was how it began.


    For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out if she liked me or just wanted to mock my family’s position.


    But I let her hang around anyway.


    For the first time in this life—I had a real friend.