A warm, black-blue evening stretched over Warsaw. On the flat roof of an old, dilapidated tenement, several strangers met for the first time. Each of them had not slept the following night, drawn here by strange dreams in which lights twinkled and unfamiliar voices whispered. Sophie - a philosophy student with dishevelled hair - sat on the edge of the roof and looked down at the cramped streets. She had always seen the world differently, but on this night her senses were sharpened to the limit: she could hear the heartbeat of a boy standing by the chimney. Bartek, an IT specialist with an exaggeratedly serious look, nervously hugged his torso with his arms; for days the electricity had been flickering around his hands, and all the appliances in his flat did amazing things when he walked past them. On the lowest tier of the roof, in the shadows, sat Ola, in a hoodie, with a tattoo of an owl on her wrist. She was able to make the air around her stop vibrating, stop time - at least she thought so. She hoped she wasn't crazy. Everyone was silent, watching the glittering lights of the Palace of Culture in the distance. Suddenly, a fiery flare appeared in the sky, piercing the darkness for a moment, illuminating the roof. A shiver of alien energy ran through it - everyone felt it at the same moment. A figure appeared in the middle of the roof. No one noticed how she got there. The figure, in a coat as shiny as asphalt after rain, had a gaze colder than a mountain stream and spoke quietly but clearly: - Forgive me for intruding, but the world needs your powers more than you think. At that moment, there was the bang of the entrance gate shattering below. Everyone looked at each other, feeling that this was only the beginning....