Earlier, Michael had been at a small gathering with some friends, praising God and enjoying their company. Everything seemed perfectly ordinary until his phone lit up with a message.
"Michael, are you busy? Let's meet up."
It was from the "spicy" girl, the one who had managed to complicate his life in ways he couldn't quite explain. Despite knowing better, Michael had developed feelings for her.
He had already made plans to see his other girl after the gathering, but the new message threw those plans into disarray. Against his better judgement, he replied.
"Should I wait around?"
"No, don't do that," she answered, her tone almost dismissive.
Michael smiled at his phone, pretending the response hadn't stung. He put it away and left, feeling rather foolish.
But, somehow, things were about to get worse.
As he stepped outside, there she was: the very girl who had sent him the message. Their eyes met, and she greeted him with a knowing smirk.
"She ditched you, didn't she?"
Michael laughed, though there was little humour behind it, and nodded.
He had barely recovered from the embarrassment when she walked past him, casually adding, "I've got someone to meet."
Just like that, the excitement he had felt while rushing to see his beloved dissolved into shame, anger and a bitter sense of betrayal.
That was enough.
From that moment on, Michael decided he was done making a fool of himself. He needed a new philosophy, a personal mantra to live by:
"Be seen when necessary, speak when needed, and stop disturbing those who don't want to be disturbed. Disturb only those who wish to be disturbed."
A rather complicated way of saying he was done chasing people, but hey, we all have our moments.
Michael eventually returned to his room, which he shared with five other people. He collapsed onto his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.
"I was really stupid," he whispered.
After a quick meal of bread and tea, he finally drifted off to sleep.
By seven the following morning, Michael was awake. Today was the day of his enrolment.
At this school, turning eighteen meant joining Emox, a university-like institution where individuals learned to harness their abilities. After all, in a world where people possessed extraordinary powers, villains were inevitable.
Of course, there was much more to Emox than that, but we'll get into it later. Don't rush me.
Michael had already passed the age at which most people awakened their abilities. The reason was relatively simple: people's powers were fuelled either by their emotional connections to others or by memories of pain from their past.
But Michael?
His life was too chaotic. He had no single, constant source of pain, no emotional hierarchy to anchor himself to. Nothing seemed to fit.
So, in simple terms, Michael was a tall, powerless monkey.
"Yep, that's me."
Now, you might be wondering how someone like him could possibly enrol at Emox. Well, there was only one way: he had to pass six tests.
What those tests involved, however, was a closely guarded secret. Emox wasn't exactly generous with information.
Michael climbed out of bed, still reflecting on the previous day's disaster.
"At least today can't be that bad," he thought.
Then his phone buzzed.
Another notification.
This time, it was from a girl who genuinely liked him. She wasn't his beloved, nor was she the source of his spicy destruction. In fact, she was best friends with the latter.
Of course. Because why would things ever be simple?
"I need to see you tonight. Urgently."
Michael stared at the message.
That was when he knew he was completely screwed.
He glanced at his five roommates, all still fast asleep. They seemed to have absolutely no interest in life whatsoever. One was a child rapist, another a delusional religious fanatic, and one spent most of his time fighting demons in video games. The remaining two? Well, they were mostly just taking up airspace.
Honestly, just looking at them made Michael feel lazier. Their laziness was practically contagious.
He left the room, reminding himself that he still had an enrolment to attend.
As he walked, his thoughts began to spiral.
"Aren't men just slaves to women? If you love them, they use you. If you don't love them, you're toxic. If you ignore them, you're a nonchalant jerk. You can't win, no matter what you do."
Michael had practically lost interest in women altogether. He wasn't interested in sex or any of that. All he wanted was someone he could spend his money on, someone to cuddle with and talk to throughout the day.
But, of course, that was labelled simping.
What was the point? No matter what you did, this generation always had a label waiting for you.
He was exhausted. Exhausted with people, with relationships and with the endless cycle of trying to find something that made life worthwhile.
It was part of the reason he longed for death.
He had even entertained the absurd fantasy of committing genocide to bring about world peace. After all, in his twisted little philosophy, peace could only exist in the absence of humanity.
"Fun fact," Michael muttered to himself. "I've been hopping from bus to bus, completely lost in thought, and I'm already here."
Emox was close by, and most ability users didn't even need vehicles to get around.
The truth was, Michael simply wanted to experience love before he died. He had thought he would find it with his beloved, but even that possibility now seemed increasingly distant.
She still lingered in his thoughts, yet the connection between them felt as though it were slowly fading.
Anyway, Michael had finally arrived at Emox.
It was time for his enrolment.
He had three possible outcomes awaiting him: die, return home in defeat, or become an Emox.
And, honestly, he wasn't particularly bothered about which one came first.