Black stared at the blue-tinged smoke curling above the lamp, his mouth open halfway between a scream and a swear.
The... person—or thing—floating before him raised one sleek brow, arms folded like he was waiting for a coffee order and not rising out of a centuries-old artifact.
"So," the genie said, voice silk and gravel. "What's the first wish, 'Rightful Smith'? Let's get the awkward part over with."
Black swallowed. "Wait. Hold on. This is real?"
Azur'Raal tilted his head.
"You rubbed the lamp, didn't you? Lit a candle. Whispered to the shadows. Yeah, this is real. Welcome to the deep end, kid."
The room smelled faintly of ozone and scorched cinnamon.
"Three wishes," Azur'Raal said, extending three fingers, each tipped with faintly glowing blue fire. "No wishing for more wishes, no time travel past the moment you touched the lamp, no raising the dead, and—my personal favorite—no trying to trick me into giving you infinite power. It's been done. Never ends well."
Black raised a hand, "I'm not gonna wish yet. I have questions."
Azur'Raal sighed theatrically and drifted sideways to lounge mid-air above the couch like it was a throne.
"They always do. Fine. One question. I'll even be nice about it."
"But," he added with a sharp grin, "ask wisely. Your second question is gonna cost you a wish."Black narrowed his eyes. This genie wasn't like the charming, Disney-esque ones. No singing. No friendliness. Just pure chaotic sass, wrapped in smoke and magic. He chose his question carefully.
"Why me?"
The grin froze. Just for a moment.
"Huh. Not bad."
Azur'Raal floated upright again and snapped his fingers. Sparks lit the room like stars in fast-forward. The apartment faded around them—walls flickering into a starry night sky, bookshelves melting into ancient dunes of a world long gone.
"Once upon a cosmic oops," the genie said, walking across nothing like it was stone, "there was a kingdom in the sky. Floating cities. Magic rivers. Golden rule by brilliant fools. And in that kingdom, a man—me—got a little too clever."
He gestured, and an image appeared in the air: a younger version of himself, robed in silver, standing before a spinning sphere of glowing sand and fire.
"I tried to trap time. Cage it. Tame it. The universe said 'nope,' and boom. Kingdom gone. Me? Shoved into this thing."
He pointed at the lamp.
"But the spell wasn't perfect. It's tied to a lineage. The last family who tried to fix my curse, or... maybe make it worse. The Smiths. Bloodline magic is weird like that."
Black frowned. "So I'm part of this curse?"
"You're part of the chance to undo it. Or cement it forever. Depends on the wishes. Depends on you."
Silence.
Then, as suddenly as it had changed, the apartment reappeared.
"Now," Azur'Raal said, landing on the floor, clapping his hands once, "serious time. You've got three shots. You can create wonders. Or you can doom us both. Either way... choose carefully."
The lamp glowed softly on the table. The wax seal from the original package had crumbled into dust.
Black felt a strange warmth on his hand—looked down. The lamp had vanished.
But on his right hand, there it was: a ring. Gold, simple, with that same crest from the package—the axe and sunburst. It pulsed once. Cool and calm.
"When the time comes," Azur'Raal added, "don't ask the ring what can be done. Ask what should."
Then the genie dissolved into the air.
And Black was alone again... with the ring, the questions, and the weight of a thousand untold wishes.

YOU ARE READING
THE PACKAGE WITH NO RETURN
Mystery / Thriller"No name. No return address. Just a box... and everything changed." It arrived out of nowhere-no warning, no explanation. For Black Smith, it was just another delivery... until it wasn't. Now the world feels different. Shadows seem deeper. Strange t...