A minute passed, and her legs had grown numb from crouching on the floor. Gritting her teeth, she gathered all the strength she could muster and pushed herself upright. Her body wobbled for a moment, but she steadied herself and looked back at the mirror.
The young girl stared back.
Raven black hair framed her face, falling in soft, messy strands around two pools of dark gray eyes. Her skin was porcelain smooth, almost doll like, as if she had stepped straight out of a painting. The girl in the mirror looked unreal too perfect, too refined, like a masterpiece displayed in an art gallery.
It was impossible not to stare.
Those eyes were especially captivating, deep and alluring, as if they were silently begging to be admired. For a moment, she forgot her panic, forgot everything, and simply looked.
"…Whoa," she muttered under her breath, leaning closer to the glass. "I look… stunning."
She tilted her head, watching the reflection copy her movements.
"Is this really what I look like?" she whispered, then let out a stunned laugh. "Well, damn… I turned into a hot chick."
After she had finally calmed down, a thought crept into her mind. A sudden chill ran down her spine, as if merely considering it was enough to make her skin crawl.
"Thinking more about it might really make me go mad…"
But if this was real, then there were only two possible explanations for how he had turned into a she.
The first was the most unrealistic yet strangely logical.
He might still be dreaming or hallucinating. Maybe this was one of those dreams so vivid, so detailed, that the line between reality and illusion became impossible to tell. If that was the case, then all he had to do was calm down and eventually wake up in the real world.
The second possibility, however, was insane just to think about.
But… it made sense.
If this wasn't a dream, then he must have received a "gift." or worse a "curse."
A "gift" isn't a literal present. It was more like a supernatural ability an aspect, a skill, a talent granted to a person by some unknown force. A gift could give someone superhuman strength, psychic abilities, elemental powers, and countless other extraordinary traits. In theory, there was no limit to what a gift could be.
However, a person could only possess one gift.
Except for rare exceptions people whose body and soul were uniquely built to withstand two gifts. Such individuals were extremely rare almost mythical, appearing only once in a decade.
And receiving a gift wasn't the end of it.
You couldn't use it instantly.
It was like planting a seed. The ability had to grow, nurtured through training and experience, slowly maturing over time. Only when it reached its peak could someone fully unleash its true power.
Currently, there were around 2.5million known gift user in the world.
That made them only 0.03% of the entire human population.
"Have I… perhaps received a gift?" she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. Then her expression darkened.
"No… instead of a gift… I think I received a curse."
A curse was the opposite of a gift.
While gifts brought benefits to their users, curses brought only hindrance pure disadvantages carved into one's existence. If a gift could heal, then a curse could corrupt. If a gift could bless, then a curse could ruin.
A curse could turn a kind person into a walking disaster. Someone with a bad luck curse could bring misfortune to everyone around them be it friends, family, strangers rendering their kindness meaningless. No matter how good their intentions were, the world itself would twist against them.
Unlike gifts, which varied in strength and rarity, curses were equal in cruelty.
They did not discriminate. They did not show mercy.
They treated everyone the same ruthlessness, without exception.
She let out a dry, bitter laugh, running a hand through her hair.
"And here I am, going crazy thinking I received a gift…" she muttered."…when it turns out I might've gotten a curse instead."
She swallowed, her fingers curling into her palm.
Cursed user were not something to underestimate. There were legends stories whispered across the world, passed down like warnings.
The most famous was The Weeping Saint
A girl who had been blessed with a healing gift, but later discovered she carried a hidden curse. Everyone she healed would eventually suffer a tragedy far worse than their original injury. People began to fear her. Villages burned her temples, kingdoms banned her existence, and in the end, she isolated herself so no one would be harmed again. They said her tears still fall somewhere in the world, turning into rain that carries misfortune.
Then there was The Black Wanderer
A man who carried a bad-luck curse so powerful that disasters followed him wherever he went. Crops failed, buildings collapsed, people fell ill. He never meant to hurt anyone, but kingdoms chased him, calling him a calamity in human form. Legends say he kept walking, never staying in one place, because standing still meant the world around him would die.
She shivered.
"…Yeah, thinking about this really might make me go insane."
Her reflection stared back at her beautiful, unfamiliar, unreal.
"If those legends are true," she whispered, her voice trembling, "then what kind of curse did I just get…?"