The Limbo was a harsh place, unforgiving and desolate. In this environment, Cynthia was a beacon of hope for young Sabir. She was gifted with Esper powers that could have secured her a comfortable life in Havana, but she couldn’t abandon her little brother. Sabir had yet to awaken his powers, and as a child, he needed her more than ever.

“Cynthia, I’m hungry,” Sabir whispered one evening, his stomach rumbling.

“I know, little bro,” she replied, her voice gentle but determined. “I’ll find us something. Just stay here and don’t go outside, no matter what.”

Cynthia ventured into the dangerous streets, braving the elements and the lurking dangers. She often returned with a single pack of Nutripulp, a rare find in their part of The Limbo. Despite her own hunger, she always let Sabir have most of it.

“Here, eat up,” Cynthia said, handing him the precious food.

“Aren’t you eating too?” Sabir asked, concern etched on his boyish face.

“I’ve already eaten,” she lied, smiling to reassure him. “You need your strength.”

As the night deepened, the flickering light of their makeshift lamp cast long shadows on the walls. Sabir devoured the Nutripulp, savoring every morsel. Later, as he lay in bed, he heard a soft, stifled sobbing. Curious and worried, he got up and tiptoed to Cynthia’s corner.

“Cynthia?” he whispered. “Why are you crying?”

Cynthia quickly wiped her tears, but the sadness in her eyes was unmistakable. “It’s nothing, Sabir. Just... tired.”

Sabir crawled into her lap, wrapping his small arms around her. “We’ll be okay, right? We’ll always be together.”

Cynthia hugged him tightly, her tears falling into his hair. “Yes, Sabir. We’ll always be together and survive, no matter what.”

They fell asleep holding each other, a fragile comfort in a brutal world.

In the mornings, when Cynthia left to scavenge for supplies, Sabir would go to Mrs. Norris’s shack. Mrs. Norris, an elderly woman with a kind heart hardened by years of hardship, always welcomed him. Despite the limited resources, she found ways to entertain Sabir with makeshift toys and simple games.

“Morning, Sabir,” Mrs. Norris greeted him one day, offering him a piece of dried fruit and a small, hand-carved figure. “How’s it going?”

“I’m okay,” Sabir replied, taking the dried fruit gratefully. “Thank you, Mrs. Norris.”

“You’re welcome, dear. Now, how about a game of ‘hide the pebble’?” she suggested, her eyes twinkling.

They amused themselves, played, and for a few hours, the unyielding truth of The Limbo softened into the background. Each night, Cynthia would come back, always appearing drained yet thankful.

“Thank you for looking after him, Mrs. Norris,” Cynthia said each night, her voice filled with sincere gratitude.

“Anytime, Cynthia. You know he’s like a grandson to me,” Mrs. Norris replied, patting Sabir’s head gently.

Sabir and Cynthia would then wend their way back to the hut they called home. Cynthia would lead him to the doorway of their shack. Once inside, she would spread what little fare there was before them. At meal’s end, Cynthia would take her place in the corner of the room that was her refuge, and there in her space, she would often cry a moantain of tears, as if the act of crying had become routine. Or as if she had never learned how to hold back tears.

Sabir woke one morning to an unnerving stillness. The previous night, Cynthia had not returned. As he searched every inch of their shared space, calling her name, a sustained but unrefined panic began to settle over him.

“Cynthia? Where are you?”

Desperation clawed at his heart. He couldn’t stay inside any longer. Ignoring Cynthia’s warnings, he stepped out of their shack, the harsh sunlight momentarily blinding him.

He wandered the desolate streets, his small footsteps echoing in the empty alleyways. As he passed by Mrs. Norris’s house, she stepped out, her brow furrowed with concern.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“Sabir, what are you doing out here?” Mrs. Norris asked, her voice stern but caring.

“I’m looking for Cynthia,” Sabir replied, his voice trembling. “She hasn’t come back.”

Mrs. Norris knelt down to his level, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “It’s not safe for you to be out here alone. Why don’t you come inside and wait with me? We can play some games while we wait.”

Sabir shook his head, tears welling in his eyes. “I have to find her. She might be in trouble.”

“Sabir, please, it’s too dangerous,” Mrs. Norris pleaded, her grip on his shoulder tightening slightly. “Let’s just wait a little longer.”

But Sabir’s mind was made up. He pulled away from Mrs. Norris and ran, ignoring her calls. His small legs carried him further into the desolate wasteland of The Limbo, his heart pounding with fear and determination.

Through the vacant stretch of wilderness, Sabir dashed on, his gaze flickering everywhere and anywhere, as if he were trying to catch his sister’s presence in the air. The wasteland of cracked earth and tortured metal was an all-but-deserted expanse of death and decay. Makeshift shelters—if they could even be called that—had been assembled out of metal and earth to provide at least a semblance of safety and security. But what use was that in an environment like this? Rubble littered the grounds, and the air itself hung heavy with the sense of decay. Figures sauntered about lifelessly, casting sidelong glances at him with the mistrust borne of the endless suspicion and fear that was a part of them.

He ran past a group of children clustered around a small fire, their faces emaciated and their eyes sunken. They didn’t give him a second glance as he dashed by. Moving ahead, he saw that an old man was picking through a pile of junk, muttering to himself. Sabir called out to the man, but the old man’s head only turned partway toward him before shaking back and forth. The boy ran on, deeper into what felt like the heart of darkness. No familiar sights or sounds of his usual hangouts reached him anymore. A shiver of loneliness ran down his spine as he imagined what the old man would say to him if he had spoken.

Sabir’s breath was labored, and his heart was on the verge of bursting from the sheer terror that enveloped him. The surrounding darkness was palpable, and it felt as if it was trying to consume him. His only source of illumination was the nearly spent flashlight in his hand. The shadows cast in the tunnel loomed large and foreboding, and they seemed to be the only thing closing in on him. Then came the howl, haunting and bone-chilling, that seemed to emerge from some primeval part of the night.

A giant wolf-like monster appeared, its eyes glowing with predatory hunger. The beast’s matted fur bristled as it bared its fangs, advancing on Sabir with a low, menacing growl.

People ran in every direction, screaming in terror. In the chaos, someone pushed Sabir, sending him tumbling towards the beast. Paralyzed with fear, he watched as the monster loomed over him, its fangs bared.

Just when he thought it was the end, a force yanked him back, and he found himself behind his sister. Cynthia stood between him and the monster, her eyes glowing with a blue tinge.

“Cynthia!” Sabir cried out, but she didn’t take her eyes off the beast.

With a flick of her wrist, she unleashed her telekinetic power, lifting the beast into the air. The monster roared, struggling against the invisible force. Cynthia strained, sweat pouring down her face as she slammed the beast into the ground with a force that shook the street. The monster, however, was not easily defeated. It sprang back up, faster than before, and lunged at her.

Cynthia barely dodged its claws, but its teeth sank into her arm, blood gushing from the wound. She screamed in pain but didn’t falter. With a surge of energy, she sent a powerful telekinetic blast, throwing the monster against a wall. The creature yelped, then lay still, defeated.

Breathing heavily, Cynthia turned to Sabir, her face pale from blood loss. “What did I tell you about staying inside?” she scolded weakly, pulling him into a tight embrace. “We stay together and survive, no matter what.”

Sabir’s eyes filled with tears as he saw the blood staining her clothes. “Cynthia, you’re hurt!”

“It’s just a scratch,” she lied, wincing. “I’ll be fine. Let’s go home.”

That day, Sabir vowed to never disobey her again. They were all each other had, and they would protect each other at all costs.

Life in The Limbo remained unforgiving, but Sabir and Cynthia managed to carve out a semblance of normalcy. Sabir was nearing his tenth birthday, still a few years away from the age when most children awakened their powers. He was anxious, eager to discover what abilities he might possess, but also worried about the responsibilities they would bring.

He would always have dreams of gaining the most powerful esper abilities and leading his sister to The Threshold. The gate would open and a heavenly light would be christened on both siblings’ faces, as they both were smiling at each other.

One night, as Sabir stirred in his sleep, he felt a gentle touch on his forehead and heard Cynthia’s whisper, “I’m leaving Sabir, I’ll be back eventually.” He drifted back to sleep, not realizing those were her parting words.

The next morning, she was gone. There was no note, no trace of where she might have gone. Sabir felt as if the ground had been pulled out from under him. His mind raced, piecing together fragments of memories and the stark reality that Cynthia was no longer there.

Days turned into weeks, and Sabir ventured out, asking anyone he could find if they had seen her, but the answers were always the same. No one had seen Cynthia Quinn.

The young boy found himself alone in a hostile world, with nothing but the memories of a sister who had once been strong and loving. The promise they had made to each other to stay together and survive now felt like a mean joke.

But Sabir didn’t give in to despair. Instead, he held onto determination and the goal of survival for the sake of Cynthia. He would become strong. He would discover the powers that lay dormant within him, and one day, he would make sense of his sister’s disappearance.

Her fierce spirit had made a permanent imprint on his young, impressionable mind, and he intended to let it carry him through The Limbo and to the other side.

To Havana.