I just turned 43. Instead of my usual sports blogs or random musings, I figured I'd try something different—something spontaneous.
It started as a personal reflection, then somehow morphed into this.
Over the years, I’ve had countless unfinished stories floating around in my head, but thanks to ChatGPT and a rare moment of clarity, I managed to shape one into something tangible in just an hour.
Will I continue it? No idea. But for now, I had fun writing it. So, here it is.
This guy is walking—just another collector, the type who hoards basketball cards and sneakers. He’s dressed in a loose bowling shirt and baggy shorts, a backpack slung over his shoulders carrying a laptop and its charger. His destination? A coffee shop. A place to sit, sip, and either spin imaginary sports narratives or crunch numbers that no one else cares about.
He orders his coffee and scans the place. Then he finds it—the perfect spot. A table with an outlet, enough space for his bag, and just the right angle to zone out. But just as he’s about to settle in, he sees her.
The girl of his dreams.
She’s in her thirties, a nerd like him, laughing with friends. He’s seen her before, at conventions, meetups—places where geeks gather. And she sees him too. No fear, no awkwardness, just a warm presence, like an angel in a Foo Fighters shirt.
But then it hits him.
He hates girls like her.
Not because there’s anything wrong with her. But because of his own story.
He’s in his thirties. Separated. A father. A man who once believed in love but now hates relationships to the core. His ex-wife? He still loves her, in a way. But she’s long since moved on, lost in her world, too busy for him, too distant for their child. The kid wants them back together, but how can that happen when she’s become... different?
Cold.
Unreachable.
A sad version of her former self.
The dude had dreams once. Traveling. Seeing the world. But all of it was tied to his wife, and when she left, those dreams rotted in the same space he’s been stuck in for years. He never wanted to be her friend—never. From the moment he met her, all he ever wanted was to hold her.
People used to wonder how a woman like that ended up with a guy like him.
Now, sitting in the coffee shop, staring at this new woman—the one in the Foo Fighters shirt—he feels something familiar creeping in.
Hope?
Desire?
Regret?
He doesn’t know.
Then, reality.
A man walks up to her.
Of course, she has someone.
Girls like her always do.
Without a second thought, he turns away and focuses on his coffee. Just another day in a life long since paused.
Then—an explosion.
The shockwave rattles the coffee shop, sending a tremor through the ground. Chaos erupts outside. Screams. Shattering glass. Flames licking the edges of nearby buildings.
Turns out, this isn’t just any city. This is a world where humans and elementals coexist—a fragile balance constantly at risk. And today, a fire elemental lost his temper in the middle of rush hour. Traffic was bad, but now? It’s a complete nightmare.
From his seat, the man watches as debris rains down outside. Panic spreads. Even the beautiful woman at the next table is wide-eyed, gripping her cup like it’s the last thing tethering her to normalcy.
He stands, already pulling out his phone, scanning for alternate routes. There’s no going home—not yet. Roads are blocked, the city’s a mess. He steps outside, takes a drag from his vape, and exhales slowly.
Maybe there’s only one real option.
His ex-wife’s house.
Not that he wants to, but where else can he go?
He texts her. "I’m coming over to see our son."
No reply.
Typical. Silence has become her preferred way of communicating with him.
With a sigh, he plugs into his YouTube Music playlist—rock covers, acoustic versions of pop songs, the kind of music that makes the world feel a little less chaotic. The drive is long, the roads are a mess, but eventually, he arrives.
Her parents greet him at the door, polite but distant, as always. He nods, exchanges a few words, then heads straight to what used to be his room.
A space that no longer feels like his.
Inside, his son is sprawled on the bed, phone in hand, laughing like crazy. His friends' voices echo through the screen, hyped up as they battle in some free-for-all mobile arena game.
The kid barely notices him at first, too lost in the fight.
And then—her.
His ex-wife.
Not just any woman. Not just any ex.
An elemental.
A cold-hearted water elemental, at that.
Elementals are ancient beings with dominion over the four fundamental forces of nature—air, water, fire, and earth. But in this world, most elementals are unaware of their true nature. At least, not yet.
They exist in two forms: pure-blooded elementals, born from the deepest, most hidden places of the earth, and half-breeds—humans who have either been possessed by an elemental, granting them power, or those born from the union of an elemental and a human.
Each elemental type is further divided into two distinct sub-classes, representing the duality of their nature:
Fire elementals can be agents of destruction, reducing everything to ash, or they can be healers, using their flames to restore life.
Water elementals bring nourishment and renewal, yet they can also embody bitterness and hate, their coldness not just physical, but emotional.
Air elementals can shield and protect, bending the wind to safeguard others, but they can just as easily summon storms and wreak havoc.
Earth elementals possess immense strength, capable of sustaining life—or draining it, drawing power from the very land itself.
Unaware of their destiny, these elementals walk among humans. But when the time comes, their true power will awaken.
For almost six hours, he stayed at his ex-wife’s house, but as midnight approached, he knew it was time to leave. His son needed to sleep.
There was a time when he would have stayed the night, curling up on the couch just to be near his kid. But ever since his ex started avoiding their old bedroom—choosing the living room couch instead—it became clear that his presence was unwelcome. So, he stopped staying over. Now, he just leaves, driving off into the quiet, empty streets.
Tonight was supposed to be just another routine departure. Until the accident happened.
He was hungry. A quick stop at a fast food joint seemed harmless. But as he pulled into the parking lot, he noticed them—two men, both in their thirties, watching him a little too closely.
He ignored them and stepped out of his car, heading for the entrance.
They moved fast. Before he could reach the door, they blocked his path. "Got any spare cash?" one of them asked, though it was clear this wasn’t a request.
The security guard saw the confrontation—but instead of stepping in, he quietly radioed for help. The men noticed. They had to move quickly. One reached for him, ready to force compliance.
And that’s when the man knelt.
At first, they laughed. A grown man dropping to his knees—what, was he praying? Begging? The other guy reached out, gripping his shoulder—
Then boom.
In the blink of an eye, the man who touched him was airborne, flung backward like a ragdoll, slamming into a wall a hundred meters away. The remaining attacker froze. The security guard, wide-eyed, stumbled backward.
And the man?
He was just there kneeling.
But he was also smiling.
They had picked the wrong target.
He wasn’t just some tired, nerdy guy.
He was an earth elemental.
And the moment his knees touched the ground, he became unstoppable.
TO BE CONTINUED.