---
The next morning, the world seemed… smaller.
The birds still chirped. The market still bustled in the distance. His mother was boiling tea like always, humming a song she'd sung since he was a child.
But Kai? He felt like he was watching it all from the outside. Like a layer had peeled back from the world, revealing something hidden beneath.
He sat at the breakfast table, staring at the steam rising from his cup.
Temperature: 63°C.
Condensation forming at 8.3 seconds.
Pressure change consistent with low atmospheric drift.
He blinked. It was just tea. But his brain wouldn't stop.
"Are you feeling okay?" his mother asked, eyes filled with concern. "You're quiet this morning."
He looked up. Forced a smile. "Just a little tired."
---
Later that day, Kai took a basket of vegetables to the village market. His usual route, his usual stall. It was busy today. Prices had gone up again, people were arguing over onions, and a shopkeeper's digital scale kept glitching.
"Thirty rupees!" shouted a man.
"No, it was twenty-eight yesterday!" another argued.
A small crowd formed. Tension rising. Kai glanced over.
Normally, he'd ignore it.
But this time… he knew what was wrong.
He walked over slowly. "The scale's calibration is off," he said quietly.
The shopkeeper turned. "What?"
Kai pointed. "The weight sensor is stuck. Probably due to static interference from that cracked solar panel above your roof. It's discharging inconsistent current. Try unplugging the scale, tapping the panel, then rebooting it after five seconds."
Everyone stared at him.
The shopkeeper raised an eyebrow. "You… what?"
Kai shrugged. "Just try."
The man grumbled, followed the instructions.
Tap. Unplug. Wait. Plug back in.
The scale flickered back to life. Reset.
The numbers stabilized.
"…It worked," the shopkeeper muttered, stunned.
Kai felt a rush of breath leave his chest. He hadn't even known he knew that. The words had come like instinct. Like memory.
Someone clapped him on the shoulder. "You some kind of engineer now, Kai?"
He smiled faintly. "Just… picked it up somewhere."
---
As he walked back home with an empty basket and a head full of noise, he passed the old power pole near the road.
The wiring was wrong.
He didn't see it, he understood it. He could trace the current in his mind — see the loss, the faulty grounding. Someone could get shocked here if it rained.
His eyes followed the cables automatically, calculating voltage drop, load distribution, and repair options without even thinking.
Something had definitely changed.
---
That night, he lay in bed staring at the ceiling.
He wasn't dreaming.
But memories still flickered behind his eyes.
Not of people or places — but of concepts.
Blueprints. Equations. Algorithms.
And more importantly — questions.
> Why do I know these things?
Where did this "bead" come from?
Was it really meant for me?
His mind was becoming sharper by the hour. But answers… still lay in shadow.
---