echos of the Grid

The last thing Kai Reyes remembered was the screech of tires and the blinding flash of headlights. A delivery truck, a rain-slicked road, and his skateboard skidding out from under him—then nothing. No pain, no fade to black, just a void that swallowed him whole. He'd been seventeen, late for curfew, and stupid enough to cut through downtown Miami at midnight. That was 2025. That was supposed to be *it*.

So why the hell was he waking up now?

Kai's eyes snapped open, and a jolt of adrenaline hit him like a freight train. He was sprawled face-down in a puddle, the stink of wet asphalt and something faintly metallic—like blood—filling his nose. His hands scrabbled against the ground, fingers curling into gravel and grime. This wasn't Miami. The air was colder, sharper, and the distant wail of sirens carried a grim undertone he didn't recognize. He pushed himself up, wincing as every muscle screamed in protest, and blinked into the dimness.

An alley. Narrow, shadowed, with brick walls towering on either side, graffiti scrawled in jagged loops he couldn't read. A dumpster loomed to his left, overflowing with trash bags that smelled like death warmed over. Above, the sky was a murky gray, no stars, just the faint glow of a city that never slept. He staggered to his feet, heart hammering, and caught his reflection in a cracked windowpane nearby.

Same messy black hair, same brown eyes wide with panic, same lanky frame drowning in a hoodie two sizes too big. But something was off. His face looked… sharper, like he'd aged a day or a lifetime. And his left wrist—there was something there, glinting faintly under the flickering streetlight. A bracelet? No, a device. Sleek, metallic, like a smartwatch crossed with a sci-fi prop, with a glowing green crystal embedded in its center. It pulsed once, twice, syncing with his racing pulse.

"What the—" Kai muttered, shaking his arm as if he could fling it off. It didn't budge. The crystal flared brighter, and a voice—low, resonant, *inside his head*—cut through the haze.

"Awakening complete. Host confirmed. Grid alignment initiated."

Kai froze. "Who said that?" He spun around, expecting some creep lurking in the shadows, but the alley was empty. The voice hummed again, mechanical yet alive, vibrating through his skull.

"Designation: Morpher Unit Alpha. Purpose: To protect. Query: Are you prepared?"

"Prepared for what?" Kai snapped, his voice cracking. He tugged at the device, but it clung to his skin like it was fused there. The crystal pulsed again, and a wave of dizziness hit him. Images flashed behind his eyes—swords clashing, a banner fluttering in the wind, a man in armor screaming his name. Not *Kai*. Something older, guttural. *Kaelric*. A memory that wasn't his.

He stumbled, clutching his head. "I'm losing it. I'm dead, and this is some messed-up afterlife—"

A scream shattered his spiral. High-pitched, desperate, it echoed from the mouth of the alley. Kai's instincts kicked in before his brain could catch up. He sprinted toward the sound, legs shaky but moving, the morpher's glow trailing behind him like a comet's tail. He burst onto a street—dark, lined with gothic buildings that loomed like something out of a nightmare. Gotham. He didn't know how he knew, but the name clicked into place like a puzzle piece.

Ahead, three figures: a woman clutching a purse, cornered by two thugs in ski masks. One waved a knife, the other a crowbar. Kai skidded to a stop, chest heaving. He should've run the other way. He was a skinny kid with no business playing hero. But the morpher flared hot against his wrist, and that voice whispered again.

"Threat detected. Engage?"

"Engage what?" he hissed under his breath. The woman's eyes locked on him, pleading, and something snapped. He stepped forward, fists clenched. "Hey! Leave her alone!"

The thugs turned, sneering. "Kid, you picked the wrong night to grow a spine," Knife Guy said, stalking closer. Crowbar Guy cracked his knuckles, grinning like this was Christmas morning.

Kai's mouth went dry. He had no plan, no weapon, just a buzzing wrist gizmo and a death wish. Knife Guy lunged, blade flashing, and time slowed. The morpher blazed, green light flooding the street, and Kai's body moved on its own. He sidestepped—faster than he'd ever moved—grabbed the guy's wrist, and twisted. The knife clattered to the pavement, and Kai shoved him into Crowbar Guy, sending them both sprawling.

"Holy crap," Kai breathed, staring at his hands. They didn't feel like his anymore. Stronger. Steadier. The morpher's crystal shimmered, and armor—black and silver, sleek as a panther—rippled over him, encasing his body in an instant. A visor snapped down over his eyes, flashing with data he couldn't read. Strength surged through him, electric and alive.

"What the hell are you?" Crowbar Guy stammered, scrambling back. Kai didn't answer. He didn't know. The woman bolted, yelling thanks over her shoulder, and the thugs took off after her, disappearing into the night.

Kai stood there, panting, the armor retracting as fast as it had appeared. The morpher dimmed, silent now, but its weight anchored him. He wasn't dead. He wasn't in Miami. And whatever this thing was, it had just saved his ass—and maybe someone else's.

A shadow moved overhead, swift and silent, a cape fluttering against the rooftops. Kai's head snapped up, but it was gone. He shivered, the adrenaline fading, leaving only questions. Where was he? What was he? And why did that voice in his head sound like it knew him better than he knew himself?

Somewhere in the distance, a bat screeched. And Kai Reyes—or whatever he was now—took his first step into a world that wasn't his own.

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