Page 115

She stepped forward, and with each passing moment, the pressure around me increased.

It wasn’t just physical—it was everywhere, in my lungs, in my veins, in the marrow of my bones.

Each step she took pressed down on me harder, like invisible chains wrapping tighter and tighter around my chest. I gasped for air, but none came. The suffocation was complete, absolute.

For the first time since I came into this world, I felt truly powerless.

I looked up at her, hoping—no, praying—that I might find something familiar in her face.

Something known. Something hers. But her eyes—those silver eyes—were alien.

Cold. Unhinged. They shimmered brighter with every passing moment, so bright they felt like they were burning holes straight through me.

Whatever I was staring at, it wasn’t her anymore.

I tried to force my essence to circulate, desperately reinforcing myself against the suffocating pressure, but it slipped through my grasp like quicksand.

My body, my mind, everything inside me was failing.

I gritted my teeth, sweat dripping into my eyes as I fought against it, but no amount of effort made any difference.

Then, she opened her mouth.

Her lips moved slowly, forming words I couldn’t understand. The sound wasn’t human. It was ancient, primal, a vibration so deep it echoed in my chest and made my very essence tremble.

The moment the sound reached me, my vision began to fade. My knees buckled, and I felt myself falling, drifting downward into a darkness that had no end.

I opened my eyes abruptly, gasping for air as though I had just surfaced from drowning. My chest rose and fell rapidly, and my skin was slick with cold sweat.

For a moment, I couldn’t place where I was. The room around me felt both familiar and foreign. It was small, cramped. A single desk sat in one corner, piled with clutter and overdue bills. A humming refrigerator stood in the other, its faint rattle filling the silence.

Then it hit me.

This was my apartment.

The shock of recognition rooted me in place. This was where I had lived for twenty years. This was before everything—before power, before success, before awakening. This was before... him.

I stood slowly, my legs trembling. My hand grazed the edge of the bed, the cheap fabric of the sheets rough against my fingers. I glanced around, my eyes landing on a mirror hanging crookedly on the wall. My reflection stared back at me—hollow eyes, unkempt hair, and a face lined with exhaustion.

This was me at my lowest. The absolute rock bottom of my life.

A wave of despair washed over me. I felt it settle in my chest like a heavy stone. I remembered this time, how hopeless it was. I had no job, no prospects, no one who cared whether I lived or died. My family was gone, my friends had drifted away, and I was utterly alone.

I stared at my reflection and whispered aloud, "What’s the point?"

The words echoed in the silence, mocking me.

I tried to move, but my body felt leaden, as if even the act of standing was too much.

The pressure of existence itself was unbearable.

I knew I had to get up. I needed to freshen up, to drink some water, to eat something.

But why? Why should I bother? Why keep going when every day was the same suffocating cycle of failure?

I dragged myself toward the fridge. The cold air brushed my face as I opened it.

Inside, I found a single slice of stale bread and half a bottle of milk.

I ate the bread quickly, my stomach growling in protest at how little it was.

I downed the milk in a few gulps, the sour aftertaste clinging to my tongue.

I turned toward the sink, hoping to at least rinse my hands, but when I opened the tap, nothing came out.

"Fuck you," I muttered, slamming the tap shut. The cold metal bit into my palm, and I hissed at the sting.

My mind felt heavy, weighed down by a fog I couldn’t shake. I stumbled into the bathroom, using a small can of water I’d saved to splash my face. The lukewarm liquid did little to help.

As I stared into the cracked mirror above the sink, I felt a wave of nausea roll through me. My reflection didn’t feel like mine anymore. It looked hollow, like a stranger.

The day passed in a blur. I left the apartment for an interview I knew I wouldn’t get. By the time I returned, the sun was setting, the sky darkening to a dull gray.

I changed into the same worn clothes I always wore at home. The tap still refused to give me water, so I used the last of my stored supply to wash my face.

When I finally lay down on the creaky bed, staring up at the stained ceiling, I noticed the moon through the small window.

But something was wrong.

The moon glowed faintly at first, but as I watched, it began to shift. Its light dimmed, the edges warping and twisting as though it were melting. My chest tightened as the familiar glow was replaced by something dark and alien.

The throbbing in my head returned, stronger this time. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block it out.

"Cael. Cael. CAE—"

I sat bolt upright, gasping. My body was drenched in cold sweat, and my head throbbed as though someone was pounding on the inside of my skull.

It was the same dream. The same nightmare I’d had every night for the past week. But I could never remember the details—only fragments that slipped away the moment I woke.

I turned toward the window and froze.

There was no moon.

The night sky was black, completely void of light. The city below was blanketed in darkness.

"What the actual fuck?" I whispered, my voice trembling.

I stood, but the moment I moved, pain shot through my head like a lightning strike. I staggered, clutching at the wall to steady myself.

That’s when I saw it.

A figure appeared in the corner of the room, draped in shimmering silver fabric that shifted and rippled like water. Its face was hidden, but its presence was suffocating.

"Don’t forget," it said. Its voice was strange, warped, echoing in ways that made no sense.

I spun to face it, but it vanished before I could move.

"Don’t despair," came another voice, this one from behind me. I whipped around, but again, there was nothing.

The voices began to overlap, their whispers growing louder and louder until they were a deafening roar in my mind.

"Don’t forget. Don’t despair."

I clutched my head, screaming into the void, but the voices didn’t stop.

"What am I forgetting?" I shouted, my voice breaking. "What do you want from me?"

Then it hit me.

This wasn’t real. None of this was real. This wasn’t my life.

The realization sent a jolt through me, and for a moment, everything froze. My reflection in the window shifted, and I saw someone else staring back at me.

"Who am I?" I whispered.

"You are you," came a voice.

"Names don’t matter," another added.

"You are Cael. You are Ethan."

I staggered backward, my vision swimming. The throbbing in my head reached a fever pitch, and I felt my veins bulging beneath my skin. There was a thirst in my throat.

"Stop!" I screamed, but the voices only grew louder.

"Don’t forget. Don’t despair. Don’t die."

"Now" There was a pause before I heard a strange sound , it was unfamiliar and other worldly, like something I should not have heard, like something foreign invading my space and all strange voices seemed to become one at the moment.

Before I could respond, a blinding light consumed me, and I felt myself falling once more into the darkness.