The rooftop was completely silent.
No music.
No laughter.
Only breathing.
The man stared at the boy like he was seeing him for the first time.
“Two…” the boy continued.
The man’s leg trembled harder.
His jaw tightened.
“I can feel it…” he whispered, terrified.
The guests stepped back as the impossible unfolded.
Then suddenly—the man screamed.
Not in pain.
In shock.
His foot moved.
Then his knee.
Then something long thought dead inside him reacted like it had been waiting.
The boy stood slowly.
“You made a deal,” he said quietly. “But you never asked what it costs.”
The man’s eyes widened.
“What do you mean? I paid you!”
The boy shook his head.
“No. You offered money. Not trust.”
The air turned heavy.
The man forced himself up, gripping the wheelchair.
His body shook violently—but he was rising.
Standing.
For the first time in years.
Gasps exploded through the crowd.
But then—
The boy stepped back.
And whispered:
“Now it begins.”
The man froze.
His legs, once healed, suddenly felt strange again… not weak… but unfamiliar.
Like they didn’t belong to him.
He turned sharply.
“What did you do to me?!”
The boy looked at him calmly.
“I didn’t heal you.”
A pause.
“I woke you up.”
And in that moment—
The man realized everyone on the rooftop wasn’t looking at him anymore.
They were looking behind him.
At something only he could feel… standing inside his shadow.
