Y/N sat cross-legged on the floor, in the quiet glow of the evening. Her young eyes widened with wonder as she gazed up at her grandmother. The elder, her face was a map of life’s secrets and tales. The grandmother sat in her rocking chair, knitting slowly glancing down at her grandchild.

“My dear child,” she began, her voice was a whisper yet in the old house, it sounded so much louder, “there exists a tear in the paths of our universe, a rift unseen but deeply felt. A time will come when it calls out to a guardian, someone to mend the seams of destiny.” 

Y/N listened, her heart beating curiously in awe. She had no idea what her grandmother was talking about, but she hung onto every single word.

“You, my dear child, are the chosen one. The universe does not make errors in their selection. She sees the strength in your heart, the courage in your soul, and the unwavering light in your spirit. You, my dear, are a warrior of the mind.”

“But, gram-gram,” Y/N interjected, her voice a mix of confusion, “how will I know? Can I really be like a superhero?” 

Her grandmother rocked back and forth in her chair, with the kindest smiles that held the secrets of the universe, her wisdom born from the years of reading the stars themselves. 

“When the time comes, you will know. The universe will guide you. Remember, what flows in your veins is of those who dreamed, and wanted to make a difference in the world even if it meant being outcasted by the rest of the world. You carry the legacy of soldiers within you, of healers and scholars. You are stronger then you could think.” 

The words of her grandmother lulled her to sleep with a heart full of curious questions. The starts glistened in the sky knowing, that it was only short while before the young girl would make a difference and heal the paths of destiny.