Lucas Graves' Bedroom
Lucas Graves, a 14-year-old with striking black hair and yellow eyes, sat in his dimly lit bedroom, staring thoughtfully at the wall. His mind replayed the events from earlier that day, and he murmured to himself, "It's really real, that power the old man gave me—Absolute Mimicry. Why did he give it to me?"
He couldn't help but recall the afternoon meeting with the old man.
.....
A Few Hours Ago
Lucas was at the outdoor basketball court, the sun casting long shadows as it dipped below the horizon. He was practicing his shots, but his attempts were lackluster, the ball occasionally swishing through the net with a soft thud. His movements were steady but unremarkable, reflecting his current skill level.
As Lucas focused on his practice, he noticed an old man standing silently by the court. The old man, with a weathered face and kind eyes, watched him intently.
"Hey, kiddo." the old man called out.
Lucas glanced over, surprised and slightly annoyed. "What is it, gramps?"
The old man didn't miss a beat. "Your shooting form is pathetic, and your abilities are mediocre."
Lucas flushed with embarrassment, his cheeks reddening. "Hey, shu—shut it!" he stammered, feeling self-conscious that someone was judging his practice.
The old man sighed and shook his head. "Young man, why do you keep playing? You're that student, the basketball player who's always sitting on the bench every day." He studied Lucas's eyes closely and continued, "But your eyes are still filled with hope to play basketball. Why?"
Lucas, already feeling uncomfortable about being labeled a bench player, squared his shoulders and looked at the old man with a determined expression. "Well, isn't it obvious? I love basketball, and I will never give up on it." He smiled, his passion evident.
The old man's gaze softened, a nostalgic smile forming on his lips. He was reminded of a friend from his past who shared the same fervor for basketball—a friend who spoke with the same intensity and love for the game.
The old man approached Lucas and extended a small, unassuming pill. "Young man, here—take this."
Lucas eyed the pill with a mix of confusion and curiosity. "What is this?" he asked, still uncertain about the mysterious offering.
The old man's voice was steady and authoritative as he explained, "That pill contains my power. If you take it, you'll gain the ability to mimic talents. This mimicry will allow you to soar higher than others. And not only will you be able to mimic, but you will also understand everything you mimic, enabling you to refine it to a high level. That's how strong you can become with this pill."
Lucas gulped, his eyes fixed on the small, unassuming pill. "Is this really going to do what you say it will?" he asked, skepticism and hope warring within him.
Before Lucas could said further, The Old Man suddenly vanished into thin air, leaving Lucas alone on the court. Lucas stared at the empty space where the old man had been, then looked down at the pill in his hand. He hesitated for a moment, his mind racing with doubts and fears.
"What if this gramps scammed me? What if this pill is some kind of drug or poison?" Lucas thought, feeling a knot of anxiety in his stomach.
With a deep breath, Lucas made a decision. Despite his doubts and fears about consuming a pill from a stranger, he was desperate to improve his game. His dream of becoming an NBA player was a driving force, and he decided to take the risk.
Lucas swallowed the pill, his heart pounding with anxiety. "Shit, what if that old man really scammed me? What if this pill is a drug or even poison?" he thought again and again, his mind racing.
He glanced around, expecting to feel something, but to his relief, nothing seemed to change immediately. "Nothing's happening," he murmured. "Thank God." He sighed in relief, though a part of him remained wary. "Maybe that gramps was lying after all. This pill might just be ordinary."
Just then, Lucas's gaze fell on a nearby group of people playing basketball. One player, in particular, caught his attention with his impressive footwork and precise shooting form. As Lucas watched, something strange happened—he felt an uncanny clarity and understanding about the player's movements.
"What? I can understand everything about this man... how?" Lucas said aloud, his eyes widening in amazement.
He shifted his focus to other players around him. As he observed their movements, he realized he could comprehend their techniques and skills with equal clarity. His mind was rapidly processing this new information, absorbing every detail with an almost supernatural precision.
However, as Lucas continued to focus intently on multiple players, he suddenly felt a sharp, throbbing pain in his head. He touched his nose and felt a trickle of blood. "What's this?" he muttered, noticing the nosebleed.
The pain in his head intensified, and Lucas felt dizzy. He clutched his head, and the basketball he had been holding fell from his grasp. "I'm feeling dizzy." he murmured, struggling to stay upright.
After a few minutes of intense discomfort, the pain gradually subsided. Lucas took deep, steadying breaths and examined the situation. "So, if I keep focusing on too many people, my brain can't handle it." he concluded, the realization dawning on him.
He glanced at the ring on his side and then at the basketball that had dropped. Determined to test his new ability, Lucas picked up the ball. He closed his eyes and visualized the techniques he had observed—mimicking the footwork and shooting forms he had seen.
As he opened his eyes, Lucas practiced the moves, attempting to replicate the skills he had absorbed. He felt a surge of excitement and confidence as he realized the potential of his new power.
Lucas stood in the middle of the court, clutching the basketball with newfound confidence. "It really worked! That old man wasn't lying!!!" he shouted, his voice filled with amazement.
Nearby, a group of people practicing basketball paused and turned to look at him. Their expressions ranged from confusion to concern as they watched Lucas talking to himself with a mix of excitement and disbelief.
One person, pausing mid-dribble, turned to their friend and said, "Who is he talking to?"
"I don't know," another replied, eyeing Lucas with suspicion. "Some kind of ghost or something?"
A third person, visibly unsettled, whispered, "Do you think this gym is haunted?"
The others began to murmur in agreement, their eyes darting around nervously. "Fuck, don't scare me." one of them said, shivering slightly.
Lucas, oblivious to the whispers and worried glances, was too absorbed in his own realization to notice the commotion he had caused. He was busy testing out his newly acquired skills, his movements becoming increasingly fluid and precise as he mimicked the techniques he had observed. However, despite the impressive mimicry, it was clear that he was still a beginner. His form, while accurate in replication, lacked the natural ease and confidence of someone with experience. Despite lacking innate talent, Lucas had always been committed to training, pushing himself to improve. But now, with his new ability of Absolute Mimicry, he had a remarkable tool at his disposal. Thanks to his intense training from a young age and his ongoing dedication to basketball, he could master these techniques in just minutes, transforming his hard-earned skills into something extraordinary.
As he continued to practice, he occasionally glanced at the surrounding players, now more mindful of their reaction.
Ahem, Lucas thought, feeling a twinge of embarrassment. "(I should be more mindful of them. I don't want them to think I'm crazy.)"
He took a deep breath and composed himself, forcing a casual demeanor. Lucas gave a nervous chuckle and tried to blend in with the environment, making a conscious effort to avoid any further odd behavior that might attract attention.
.....
Back to the Present
...
Ethan's Bedroom
Ethan was in his bedroom, dressed in casual nightwear—comfortable sweatpants and a t-shirt. The room was dimly lit by a desk lamp and the soft glow of a nightlight. His yellow hair was slightly messy, and his blue eyes shone with determination as he prepared for the challenges ahead.
With a determined look on his face, Ethan took a deep breath and shouted, "I'm ready!!!!"
...
Lucas's Bedroom
Meanwhile, in his bedroom, Lucas was also dressed in casual clothes—wearing a hoodie and sweatpants. The room was similarly lit by a soft desk lamp and the faint glow of streetlights filtering through the window. Lucas's black hair was tousled, and his yellow eyes were bright with resolve.
He stood in front of his mirror, making sure everything was in place. With a burst of enthusiasm and focus, Lucas declared, "I'm ready!!!!"
Both Ethan and Lucas, despite the late hour and being in their ordinary clothes, expressed their readiness for what lay ahead with equal fervor and determination.
To be continue