Feeling gracious, I shot a warm psychic beam of appreciation to my tech angels.
Then, drunk on progress, I stepped past the light's radius—
—Boom!
Forehead met something solid and invisible. I rebounded like a confused pigeon.
It felt like hitting Damascus steel. I reached out — nothing. No texture, no energy. It wasn't visible with any of my sight modes. Even touch gave me zero feedback. Like poking a philosophical concept.
Well that's new… - Mia muttered, analytical gears
Should we try the 'charge blindly forward' approach?- Antwan offered like a true golden retriever in a hoodie.
Honestly? Not a bad idea.
I summoned my stilettos — sleek, whisper-sharp — and plunged them into the invisible wall.
And surprise, surprise — they cut.
The fake air split open like warm cheese. I forced my hands through the slit, then my arms, and finally wriggled my entire body into the gap like a very determined raccoon.
On the other side, I stumbled out. Triumphant.
- Mia said, oozing sarcastic pride.
-YEEE-HAW! - Antwan whooped. I could practically see him doing a victory shimmy in his chair.
I took a few cautious steps forward, and in my new enhanced sight, the soup of shadow ahead started to move.
It curled. It twisted. Tentacles. Oh hell. Tentacles!
They emerged, writhing, thick and pulsing, slapping the pavement with disgusting wet smacks. Huge chunks of concrete went flying.
-Uhhhhhh…— I eloquently commented, just as the flailing mass came for me.
My reflexes kicked in.
I dodged left — they missed. Dodged right — another near-miss. Then came the real fun: parkour tentacle dodgeball.
Antwan's voice cut in:
Auntie, those things are speeding up! Do something! Helpful, thanks.
I was still holding back, trying not to burn through my energy reserves, so
no fancy mental tricks just yet. My body, though? It moved on instinct.
I ducked, rolled, did a flipping cartwheel of death, and slashed at any limb that got too close. My blades flickered like silver meteors. Each strike severed a tentacle — only for new ones to sprout like mushrooms with vengeance issues.
It was like trying to fight a blender filled with hate spaghetti.
Two tentacles — probably besties — twisted like insane fire hoses and shot straight at me. I crossed my stilettos in time to block them... but didn't catch the third sneaky bastard coming in from the side.
It nailed me.
Like really nailed me.
A blizzard of ice roared through my body — cold, sharp, merciless. Tiny crystalline needles cut through muscle, tendon, bone… even deeper, scraping at things no MRI could ever scan. My consciousness. Maybe my soul — if I even had one. Not sure. Jury's still out on that.
A regular human? Would've been a puddle of whimpers by now. But I'm not regular.
I flooded my arteries with ectoplasm, like ghostly saline. It pushed the poison out through my pores — steaming, writhing, angry.
Then I triggered the Quantum Multiplicity.
My body began splitting — not painfully, but weirdly satisfyingly, like peeling off layers of psychic Play-Doh. More and more Alenari's popped out of me, forming a veritable flashmob of bladed clones.
The tentacle beast didn't like that.
Its factory of limbs doubled production, spewing fresh squiggly nightmares. But I wasn't falling behind. The whole battlefield turned into a blur of my doppelgängers slicing, spinning, and absolutely wrecking shop.
Me? I bailed. Did a graceful dodge-roll out of the fray and just watched, like an elegant warlord with a popcorn bucket.
The copies were now fully autonomous. Some of them even started duplicating. Congratulations, worm-beast. You just got outsourced.
You did it! - Antwan shouted through the feed, voice peaking with - Mia added coolly. -Your fan club approves. Thanks, But I'm out before one of those worms realizes I'm not dancing anymore.
With my updated grayscale vision, I moved quicker, smoother. No tripping over rocks or kissing invisible walls. The battle sounds faded behind me, swallowed by that gut-churning, void-born silence.
The adrenaline dipped, and with it came the post-fight crash. Serotonin pitfall.
Out from that hole crawled new tendrils — emotional ones this time. Sad ones. Personal ones.
Then I heard crying.
At first, I thought it was just... me. Like my depression finally developed vocal cords. But no. It was real.
And then came the silence again.
-Did you hear that? That was creepy. - Mia whispered in my ear. Something honked nearby.
Like… a child's bike horn. That tinny, shrill little squeal.
It pierced the stillness like a nail through velvet, and I jumped so hard I nearly lost a kidney.
A weird emotion washed over me. Not fear. Not confusion. But grief. Deep, raw, and confusingly nostalgic.
My friends' voices blurred into static.
I walked forward. The honking synced with my steps. Then it stopped.
And what remained was this… unbearable emptiness. Like something had been torn out of me.
I remembered — or maybe just realized — that I never had a childhood. I wasn't born. I happened. Fully formed. Already dangerous. Already alone.
I'd never known a mother's kiss or a father's hug. No bedtime stories. No lullabies. No games in the yard, no scraped knees, no hide and seek. Just missions. Just targets. Just Dued.
The heartbreak hit hard. I kept walking, barely hearing the sound of my boots.
Then the images started. Flickers. Families hugging. Tiny kids giggling. Moms lifting babies into the air.
My chest tightened like a fist was squeezing it from the inside.
Mom? Are you there? The voice was small.
A shiver danced across my spine.
Mommy, please… help me! More silence.
And then…
- Mommy, I found you.
It came from right behind me, loud and broken and far too close.
My whole body shifted into slow-mo mode, like I'd just walked into a horror movie trailer.
I turned my head — just a bit. Something rolled into view.
A toy race car. Worn-out, chipped paint. Bald tires. It squeaked to a stop at my feet.
And sitting in the tiny seat was a little boy — no older than five. Neatly combed hair, bangs brushed to one side. Cheeks red from cold, eyes bruised by sleeplessness. His lips quivered as he sobbed and wiped away tears with the sleeve of a knitted sweater covered in dancing cartoon mice.
Oh baby… you must be You're not even wearing a coat… — I cooed, voice breaking in places I didn't know existed.
I shrugged off my jacket and draped it over his tiny shoulders. He shivered and gave a shaky little nod.
Thank you, But I'm still so cold. Please… hug me. Warm me
up… please?
What else could I do?
When a child asks, the universe listens. So I sat down. Legs crossed on the freezing ground, folding into lotus position. The tiny driver pulled up beside me, still in his toy racecar, close enough to reach out those impossibly small, frail hands.
He touched me.
They were trembling, those hands. But full of life. Full of… love for me? How long had I waited for this?
The moment when I'd finally get to hold the one thing closest to me in all the known worlds.
I shifted slightly, opened my arms. Come here, my love.
He did.
And he was beautiful. Even as his neck began to stretch…
Even as his head split in half like a damn Venus flytrap, forming a gaping, fanged maw that dripped with decay and affection.
It smelled sweet. Like rot and childhood.
His monster-mouth reached for my head. And I — yeah, don't judge — I leaned in. Let it happen.
But before it could clamp down, a bolt of pain cracked through my skull. An electric jolt lit up my brain like a Christmas tree being electrocuted.
I flinched. Blinked. Came back to myself.
The -boy- didn't stop. The once-human head peeled wide open — two halves lined with fangs. The creature's body unfurled like wet laundry made of nightmares.
We moved at the same time.
I kicked. A brutal, explosive, not-so-motherly kick — straight into his vehicle.
The demon-child flew backward like a failed rocket pilot. Screaming, he vanished into the dark that had birthed him.
I could still hear him wailing, long after his form had disappeared. At my feet, his little car rocked gently.
Left-right. Left-right.
I reached out with trembling hands and picked up my jacket — now lying lonely on the seat. I slipped it on.