The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting golden patterns on the bedroom floor. Mike stirred under the covers, the remnants of a restless sleep clinging to him. The distant hum of the city was a comforting backdrop, a reminder of normalcy.

  A sudden, sharp pain shot through his chest, jolting him upright. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he gasped for air. His heart raced, each beat echoing like a drum in his ears. He clutched his chest, trying to steady his breathing.

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  From the corner of his eye, he noticed a faint glow emanating from his desk. Curious, he swung his legs over the bed and approached. There, resting atop his textbooks, were the gauntlets—ornate, ancient-looking, and pulsing with a soft, ethereal light.

  He reached out, fingers trembling, and touched them. A surge of energy coursed through his body, overwhelming his senses. Visions flashed before his eyes: flames consuming buildings, shadows dancing in the night, and a figure cloaked in darkness watching from afar.

  Mike staggered back, the room spinning. He collapsed onto the floor, the gauntlets slipping from his grasp. As darkness enveloped him, a single thought echoed in his mind:

  

  This is just the beginning.