Goodluck

It's dark, really dark, pitch black, nothing is around us. It's strange isn't it? I'm trying to converse with you but the blinding light around me won't even break through, maybe this will reach you one day when this stupid barrier is weakened. I hope that day will come soon because you need to get strong, fast, for me and my brother. I have sent you a special power, one not everyone could handle, hell I'm having problems even talking with you let alone sending power to another, your soul is strong, very strong, that's the reason I can send both this message and power through the barrier. Your soul is like a blinding light on the other side of this barrier, one that I can connect to, just barley however. This power is something simple to understand, growth, more specifically growth of yourself, for all I know you could be in your last leg of life, already lived a century and just now getting this message whilst you're sending goodbyes to your family members or whatever. By that time it would be too late, you wouldn't of realized the potential of your power and the world could be lost from us forever.

How I hope it's not.

Do not get me wrong, while I may be hyping up this power, others have probably also received there own power from wherever else, you have to work hard and get above those who are called geniuses. And when you do get stronger and your spirit grows, we may have a chat in real time and I could explain the situation more thoroughly. My power is growing too thin and I'm afraid that I will be caught soon so I must go, but don't worry, you are blessed with a powerful soul and an enhanced spirit thanks to my power, you will soon know the benefits of my power even more if you work hard, and don't think that this power was forced onto you and you don't want to take up the mantle. I've seen the look in your eyes, if only briefly, you want to become strong, I know you do. This is where my message will end, I wish you the best of luck, and I know you will shake the strongest to their core.

Goodluck.

Startled awake, a boy maybe around 14 years old jolts up from his old creaky bed in one of the backrooms of an orphanage, he grabs his pounding head, for an intense amount of pain is coming from there. Soon the pain settles, and he looks around the place he's called his home all his life for a little bit.

"What was that?"