Might of will

Om awoke with a start, his breath catching in his throat as he shot upright in bed. His heart pounded in his chest, and beads of sweat clung to his forehead. He blinked into the dim light of his room, the shapes of furniture and familiar shadows gradually coming into focus, but the unsettling dream still clung to his mind like fog.

What was that? he wondered, running a hand through his messy hair.

The dream had felt different this time—deeper, more real. Fragments of scenes and faces swirled in his mind, blurry and disjointed, but strangely familiar. A family—his family. A brother... no, not Pietro, but someone else. He could see them only in flashes: laughter at a dinner table, the warmth of home, something that was once his. But as much as he tried to reach for the memories, they slipped through his fingers, dissolving into the haze.

Why? Why does this keep happening?

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, his feet touching the cold wooden floor. It grounded him, bringing him back to the present, yet the heaviness of the dream lingered. He tried to shake it off, pushing himself to stand. His hands trembled slightly as he wiped his eyes, trying to banish the uneasy feeling that clung to him.

Stumbling to his desk, Om stared at his laptop. The soft blue glow of the screen was the only light in the room, casting a faint glow on his face. The project he'd been working on earlier remained open—circuits, codes, schematics—all of it waiting for him to continue. But his mind couldn't focus on it now.

Instead, a different kind of knowledge tugged at him, one that felt buried deep within, like a part of him that had been forgotten. College... circuits... electronics... He had been learning these things for years, hadn't he? But the thought didn't come with the usual sense of academic discovery. It felt older, more ingrained. His thoughts drifted back to his dream—a classroom, professors, diagrams of advanced technology—from his past life.

Is that possible? He questioned the notion as soon as it surfaced. It felt absurd, yet real at the same time. These memories didn't fit into the world he now knew, yet they felt as though they belonged to him, lodged somewhere in the crevices of his mind.

His hands itched to sketch out designs, not just the ones he was currently working on, but ideas... ideas of something bigger, more advanced. Stark's name floated in the haze, blurring in and out of focus. Tony Stark, the tech genius he had admired since childhood. Om had grown up idolizing him, especially after seeing his incredible inventions in the public eye. But why?

The more Om thought about it, the more blurred it became. His admiration for Stark felt personal, as if it extended beyond admiration, beyond what he should know from news or television. It was as if Stark's technology wasn't just a marvel he read about, but something he could understand—like the blueprints and mechanisms were familiar to him in a way he couldn't explain. Yet everything was still unclear, shrouded in a fog that Om couldn't fully penetrate.

He closed his eyes, trying to steady his racing thoughts. His mind flashed back to a more recent memory—one of his first encounters with Stark's tech in this life. Om had been barely 7 years old, and even then, his blurry knowledge had sparked something in him, compelling him to dream of creating something similar. But it was more than just inspiration. His hands knew what to do, his brain could grasp the intricacies of how it worked, but there were still missing pieces.

What is happening to me?

The question echoed in his mind, unanswered and unsettling. He felt like he was on the verge of unlocking something profound, yet the key was just out of reach. Every time he got close, it felt like the dream, the past, would retreat back into the shadows. And with it came a gnawing fear—fear of the unknown, fear of the future.

This dream, in particular, had left him rattled. It wasn't just the fading memories but something more details were shown today that bothered him. It was something more. He felt it in his gut, a weight that settled deep in his chest, warning him of what was to come. A premonition.

He leaned heavily against the desk, his hands gripping the edge tightly. The premonition wasn't just about his memories. It was about his family. The Maximoffs. Wanda. Pietro. They were at peace now, but for how long? Something inside him screamed that this calm would not last. Something was coming—something terrible, and it would tear them apart. He didn't know when or how, but he knew it was inevitable.

A cold shiver ran down his spine, as the realization washed over him: I'm not ready. I can't protect them.

His heart ached at the thought. He loved this family—the warmth, the laughter, the comfort they gave him. Yet he felt powerless to shield them from the storm he could sense brewing on the horizon. Om's hand curled into a fist. He didn't know what was coming, but he couldn't just sit by and wait for it. He had to be prepared.

Looking back at his laptop, he felt a surge of determination. He remembered each bits after dream or by learning since the age of 6. The knowledge which, he could understand as if it was a revision he had learnt in his past life, from his days as a tech student—he would use that. He had to unlock it, every bit of it, and find a way to strengthen himself. If he could understand Stark's technology, if he could piece together the missing fragments in his mind, maybe—just maybe—he could find a way to protect the people he loved.

He turned back to his desk, the unease from the dream still lingering, but now it was tempered with resolve. Om's fingers hovered over the keys, ready to dive back into his work. He didn't have all the answers yet, but one thing was clear—time was running out. The future held a threat, and if he didn't figure out the mystery of his memories and the knowledge buried within him, he wouldn't be able to stop it.

And he couldn't let that happen.

With a deep breath, Om resumed his work, the ticking clock reminding him of how little time he had left. But now, as his fingers danced across the keys, there was a new urgency in his movements.

Though he had managed to convince his father to reinforce at least his room as an excuse to save his family from physical damage, it wasn't enough. How could he bear to lose his family? It felt like it wasn't the first time he feared losing someone, and though he had gleaned information from his dream, he still didn't know how to protect them.

Suddenly, Pietro mimicked father's voice from the hallway, breaking through his thoughts. "Hey, sleepyhead! Time for breakfast!"

Om turned his head, startled to see the clock on his wall showing 7:15 AM. Panic surged through him, and he quickly rose, brushing his hair back and straightening his shirt. He hurriedly collected his things, tossing his notebook into his bag and making sure his laptop was safely closed.

The tantalizing smell of pancakes and syrup wafted from the kitchen, mingling with the sound of laughter and conversation. The warmth of it wrapped around him as he raced down the stairs. The breakfast table was set with bright plates, and Iryna was at the stove, expertly flipping pancakes, 

"Morning, Om!" she called, smiling brightly as he entered. "Hope you're ready for another exciting day at college!"

He grinned back, his heart swelling with warmth. "As ready as I'll ever be."

"Breakfast is almost ready!" Olek chimed in, setting down a steaming cup of tea in front of him. "You've got a big day ahead, don't forget to grab your notes."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Om replied, though the weight of his dreams still pressed heavily on his mind.

As they gathered around the table, the smell of freshly baked bread and sizzling eggs enveloped them. Wanda poured orange juice into glasses, her excitement palpable. "You guys are going to love this! I helped Mom make it!"

"Better than last time?" Om teased, remembering the incident where Wanda had added too much salt.

She shot him a playful glare. "Shut up! This is going to be great!"

Their father chuckled as he filled his plate. "I'm counting on you both to make this morning special. We need energy for the day ahead!"

"I might take all of it!" Pietro chimed in, devouring his food at a speed that made Om chuckle.

He settled into his seat next to Pietro, who was already digging into a stack of pancakes with enthusiasm.

"What did you see today in dream?" Pietro asked, swallowing his mouth full pancake. Om could see the curious and worry in his brother's eyes, but he shook his head, wanting to keep the heavy thoughts to himself, at least for now. Last time when om woke up crying Pietro was near him and was almost heartbroken seeing his almighty brother crying.

"Just the usual stuff," Om lied, but the unease flickering in his stomach lingered.

The family gathered around the table, and for a brief moment, laughter filled the air, easing the tension in Om's heart. They shared stories of their plans for the day, teasing one another and enjoying the comforting routine of breakfast together.

As they ate, the conversation flowed naturally, filled with lighthearted jokes and stories from their day-to-day life. The fear of what lay ahead was a shadow in his heart, but at least for now, he could enjoy this moment with his family.

With each bite, he promised himself that he would find a way to protect them. He would decipher the mystery within himself and harness it for their sake.

He just had to figure out how.

After breakfast, the family gathered their belongings and prepared for the day ahead. Om felt the usual excitement for college, but this time it was mixed with the unease of what lay ahead.

After finishing his meal and clearing his plate, he glanced at the clock again. The time was ticking away, and he needed to get to college soon. In Sokovia, college classes typically started around 8:30 AM, so he had just enough time to prepare himself.

"Alright, I'm off!" he announced, grabbing his backpack and giving each of them a quick hug. "See you later!"

"Have a great day!" Wanda called after him, a soft smile on her lips.

As he stepped outside, the sun shone brightly over Sokovia, the morning air crisp and invigorating.

She too was being ready to go to school as she sat with plate with pancake on chair. With that she asked Pietro, " Did he saw weird dream again?" 

"hheee diddmn't sfaiad." He replied with mouthful of munched pancakes.

As he stepped outside, the crisp morning air hit him, and he took a moment to breathe it in. The sun was just rising, casting a golden hue over the streets of Sokovia, illuminating the familiar paths he had traveled countless times. With each step, he felt a sense of urgency—a need to harness the knowledge of his past life and find a way to protect his newfound family.

The college wasn't far, and the walk gave him a chance to gather his thoughts. He needed to focus on his classes, absorb every piece of information, and work diligently on his projects. The knowledge he had gained in his past life—now rising to the surface—would be crucial in helping him navigate the challenges ahead.

As he approached the campus, he felt a flicker of determination ignite within him. Om was ready. Ready to delve deeper into his studies, ready to uncover the truth behind his dreams, and above all, ready to protect the family he loved so dearly.

He stepped onto the campus grounds, the familiar sight of fellow students bustling about bringing a sense of comfort. But this time, he walked with purpose—each step forward a promise to himself that he would not allow the past to dictate his future. He would forge his own path and ensure that his family remained safe, no matter what challenges lay ahead.