Max Arwen wasn’t your typical teenager, even though he tried his best to blend in. On the outside, he was just another high school sophomore in a small, quiet town in the middle of nowhere. His life revolved around homework, hanging out with his best friend Jake, and daydreaming about maybe one day asking out Emily—an impossible dream, considering she was way out of his league. But there was something about Max that even Jake didn’t know.

Every night, Max had dreams so vivid, so real, that they felt like another life. In these dreams, he wasn’t just Max Arwen, the kid who barely passed math. He was *someone*—someone important, someone who belonged somewhere beyond the stars. He could feel the cool metal of a ship’s controls under his fingertips, see the vastness of space stretch out before him, and hear the hum of engines thrumming deep in his chest. But most of all, there was always this sense that he was piloting something, flying across galaxies far, far from Earth.

This morning, like most mornings, Max woke up with his heart pounding, a vague memory of stars fading in his mind as the sound of his phone alarm cut through the dream. His room came into focus—posters of old sci-fi movies covering the walls, a stack of comic books on the floor, and the blinking red light on his computer reminding him he hadn’t done his homework. Reality hit hard.

“7:45? Crap!” Max groaned, hitting the alarm to silence it. He was already late.

He jumped out of bed, grabbing the nearest clothes he could find: a hoodie that still smelled like yesterday and a pair of jeans. No time for breakfast, no time for anything, really. He ran downstairs, where his mom was already waiting by the door, holding out a piece of toast like it was a peace offering.

“Running late again, huh?” she said, raising an eyebrow.

Max swiped the toast from her hand, mumbling through a mouthful. “Wasn’t my fault. The alarm didn’t—”

“The alarm did go off,” she interrupted, her arms crossing. “You just didn’t hear it. You’ve been up late again, haven’t you?”

Max paused. His mom didn’t know about the dreams. No one did. “Just… studying,” he lied, which, technically, wasn’t a lie—he had been studying. Just not for school.

His mom gave him that look again, the one that said she didn’t believe him but wasn’t going to push it. “You’ve been distracted lately, Max. More than usual. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, Mom, everything’s fine,” he said, kissing her cheek and rushing out the door before she could ask any more questions.

The walk to school was a blur, but Max’s mind was far from the streets and houses around him. His thoughts drifted back to last night’s dream. It had been different—more intense than usual. The stars had been closer, the ship more tangible, like he could actually feel the vibrations of the engines under his hands. And then there was the voice, clear as day, echoing in his mind before he woke up:

“Max Arwen, you’ve been chosen.”

He couldn’t shake the feeling it wasn’t just a dream this time. It felt too real, too direct. *Chosen?* For what? He had no idea. The voice hadn’t explained itself, and he woke up before he could ask. But the words stuck with him, hanging in the back of his mind like an unsolved puzzle.

As he walked through the front doors of Roosevelt High, Max tried to shrug it off. It was probably nothing. Just his imagination messing with him, like usual. The hallways buzzed with the usual noise of students milling around, heading to their first classes, joking with friends. Max spotted Jake by the lockers, already rummaging through his backpack.

“Max! Dude, where were you this morning?” Jake called, waving him over. “Thought we were meeting at the bus stop.”

Max slung his backpack over his shoulder, a sheepish grin on his face. “Overslept. Again.”

“Shocker,” Jake said, shaking his head. “You’re lucky Mr. Parsons hasn’t kicked you out of first period yet.”

Max leaned against the locker next to Jake’s. “He’s probably planning to. Honestly, I might let him.”

Jake laughed. “You say that like you don’t care.”

Max hesitated. “Yeah, well... there’s more important stuff going on.”

Jake gave him a side glance. “Like what? More important than *history class*?” he joked.

Max shrugged, but he wasn’t really paying attention. The strange feeling from the dream hadn’t left him. Instead, it was gnawing at the back of his mind, making it hard to focus on anything else. He couldn’t help but glance out one of the windows at the sky. It looked the same as always—bright blue with wisps of clouds drifting lazily by—but part of him couldn’t help but wonder what was beyond that.

The bell rang, jolting him out of his thoughts. “Come on,” Jake said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Let’s go before Parsons locks the door.”

Max followed him to class, but his mind was still elsewhere. That voice from the dream—it wasn’t fading like the others usually did. If anything, it felt stronger the more he thought about it. What did it mean? *Chosen for what?*

The day dragged on, class after class blurring together as Max tried to focus on anything other than that one question. When the final bell rang, signaling the end of school, Max was the first one out the door. He wasn’t in the mood to hang around and make small talk with anyone, not even Jake. Something was pulling him away, and for reasons he couldn’t explain, he found himself wandering toward the woods just outside town.

It was quiet there, peaceful, a place he usually went to clear his head. But today, it felt different. There was an energy in the air, something strange and electric. Max sat down on a large rock, his eyes scanning the treetops, his mind racing. Maybe it was all just his imagination, or maybe he was finally losing it after all those weird dreams.

Then, out of nowhere, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Max pulled it out and stared at the screen. It wasn’t a text or a call, though—it was a notification from an app he didn’t remember downloading. 

“Activation Required: Max Arwen.”

Max blinked. “What the...?”

Before he could even think about what to do, the screen flickered, and a strange symbol appeared—something that looked like a cross between a star and a compass, glowing softly. And then, just like in his dreams, a voice—calm, steady, and clear as day:

“Max Arwen, you’ve been chosen.”

Max’s heart pounded in his chest. This was real.