Lights. Lights. So many lights. They penetrated my eyelids as if God himself was peering into my very soul. I laid silent, wallowing like a silent wisp in its deep, watery well, vulnerable. In the end, it was not past actions or decisions that were judged, but soul, spirit, and intention. For a second I wondered if I was being judged myself. That was, until I heard low, quiet voices begin to bounce around my surroundings, gently nudging my hollow ears.

“She shouldn't be alive.”

“This is a miracle.”

“But she has no Intoperum.”

“Shouldn't be possible.”

“The bullet…”

Those voices slowly faded away and my ears grew deaf to sound as one word escaped with my focus in hand: Intoperum… the source of all superpowers. It was a new element that was invisible to every sensor mankind had to offer, whether organic or artificial. The thing that could only exist in fantasies and fiction had surfaced when humans began displaying powers beyond the norm. These powers seemed to defy science, physics, and continued to do so as new ones arose. The source behind these powers was dubbed Intoperum — ‘Into’, as in internal, and 'Perum’, which was derived from the Latin word of power. As far as I knew though, I was nothing special. I was just a young adult floating along the stream of life, doing the mundane, and enjoying the mundane. I wish I could return to that life, but the flow of life goes where it goes despite how many protest.

A man from Czechoslovakia, Zdeny, invented a scanner that could detect Intoperum a decade ago in 2024. This technology became widespread and very soon, scientists had begun attempting to find a way to manipulate Intoperum by reverse engineering it. They failed of course. Numerous times had they tried and no advancements had been made in the years that had passed. It was as if Intoperum was hidden under the veil of another realm, and if that was so, then Zdeny had created a looking glass that could peer into an alternate dimension.

I had myself scanned before and nothing came up. Not even latent powers were said to be possible by my doctors because, to make it worse, I was told to be unlucky enough to be genetically incompatible with Intoperum. This was proven from the very strands of my DNA, and soon I found out that I was quite literally the only one in the world with this condition.

My DNA was special, different, but handicapping, and with it my body physically couldn’t transfer or interact with the energies of Intoperum at all. I was the only one who couldn't affect or be affected by Intoperum.

I was practically worthless in the eyes of the world. At the time I lived, everyone had some sort of power, whether small or significant, but at least they had something to elevate them above the norm. I felt trapped in my form. I was a human from a bygone era.

Time seemed to have lost its effect as my thoughts and wonders continued along its constant river. The lights seem to bleed away back into black, and my thoughts soon began to sink, their erratic journey swirling down my mind's endless whirlpool until finally, they were submerged in my dreams. But nightmares… fantasies… wonders… and all that was before one single moment… were all forgotten, all before that voice I heard.

“Wake up Cerul…” It said. It was light, female, soothing, yet ghostly and haunting.

“Wake up…” Strangely, the melody seemed to pass right through my ears, as if she was speaking directly into my mind.

“Awaken…” it echoed.

I woke up, abruptly, my eyes fluttering open in panic to a calm darkness. The room was grey like an old horror show and was enough to be easy on the eyes. Everything was still as a painting and it was past midnight. All was dead silent and the moon seemed to cast an ominous shadow through a nearby window.

I was sitting in a bed. Wires, tubes, and all the medical like were stuck to my arm as I was laid beneath a blanket. Cold little fingers of air caressed bits of my bare skin through the little gaps. The air smelled clean, conditioned, minty, and held hints of medical alcohol.

I was in a hospital.

Strangely enough, there was no electricity, judging by the lack of any light. It seemed that not even the backup generator had activated. Aside from that, it was also somehow completely silent. From this I couldn't help but feel some dread prickle my back, its needles soaked with poison. It was peculiar. It was eerie. It was terrifying. But then I heard a soft thump, quiet but loud to my sensitive hearing in the quiet dark. It was as if a static glacier, stiff for centuries, cracked in the frozen Arctic. My body buzzed, the very cells of it shaking to their cores, and my hairs tickled against the sheets.

Fear. It triggered an animal’s instinct to flee or fight. It, like every other emotion, wrestled with rationality. Naturally, I fought back against it, for to become one who could make decisions I had to rid myself of all emotion and leave only plain logic. That was the path I followed now.

I felt nothing, and nothing was going to change that. I couldn't hope for my ideal God, not anymore, and so then I should embrace my own ideals by becoming my own God.

I couldn't remain still anymore. The silence and suspense was painful to my ears, buzzing, monotone, and flat like a heart rate monitor. The sight of my sister is something I would never forget, but it would become an image that'd remind me of who I was and who I needed to be. She was an example of my failure. Those thugs’ deaths were examples of my failure.

Whatever would happen shall be my fault.

As I said, I would bear it all…

and feel nothing.

I couldn't be weak anymore.

That was the being I had to exemplify.

That was what I had to be.

I sat up from my bed, the blankets slipping down and revealing my naked torso. At first, it was odd because I was supposed to be wearing a hospital gown, but even more upon further inspection, I noted that had breasts.

Bewildered I quickly looked at my hands. They were smaller, more smooth, and the nails were painted cheap pink, plain and dull. Finally, there was also an expensively jeweled bracelet on my wrist, and as I examined it closely, I realized, “This is my… sister's.”

Shock ran through me like a cold stream descending into a waterfall.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

“This is her body.”

As I sat there, shocked beyond measure, a tear ran down my… her chin, and it set off my emotions like fireworks. I felt a ghostly punch to the gut, causing me to hiccup, and my heart began aching painfully, twisting and turning around in its cage, attempting to free itself, and that it did.

Regret.

Sadness.

Despair.

Depression.

It all hit me at once and was too strong for me to defend against. Tears sprinted across the soft fields of my cheeks and leapt off the bottom of my chin. I couldn't keep it all in, not even in my mind.

I sobbed.

'What am I doing?’ I thought.

'My own God? So pathetic. How pathetic am I?’

I tried to silence my mind, but instead it came out of my lips.

“What are you doing?” she whispered to me, her voice pushing past my ears and vibrating within my skull. I paused.

Her voice… yes it was my sister's voice after all. That haunting, yet angelic voice.

“What the hell are you doing,” she asked, voice boiling with hot tar. “Coltan are you fucking serious? What are you doing?”

I fell back, my spine returning to the cursed comfort of the bed, and I struggled with my wretched cries. I was swimming in my tears trying to stay afloat, but in the end, I only grew more tired, more vulnerable, and more emotional. I sunk into my own ocean of sorrow.

“You're a nobody. You're worthless. You're a leech. You help nobody. You're a greedy shit and you know it.”

She was relentless, merciless, and her final line nailed my coffin.

“You care for nobody except yourself. This whole God thing is a fucking delusion.”

She stopped for a second, her words filled with gaps of hiccups and chokes.

“So Coltan… what are you doing?”

I couldn't answer that question, whether I didn't want to or physically couldn't with my endless despair. I truly couldn't. Time itself and everything else just seemed to stop existing, as all that saturated my spongy, chaotic brain was sadness. All I could do was cry, and that was all I did until I heard another voice, alien to my ears.

“Why are you crying?”

Confusion took over my state as I looked to the side where the source of it was and saw a young and unfamiliar girl sitting on a chair right next to me. Her appearance was illuminated brilliantly by the moonlight and I was almost entranced.

Golden hair ran down past her shoulders. Her eyes as were as green as the most verdant forests. And her stunning beauty could only be gazed at in awe. She was unmarred, unfazed, and peerless.

I couldn't answer her question though, as her abrupt entrance struck me with surprise, so I held my silence.

“So… what's your name?” she asked.

I felt the want to answer, my emotions still bubbling in the cauldron in my chest, but I held my caution against this foreign girl. I didn't know her and it was midnight. Who would come to this empty, dead hospital in the middle of the night?

“O...kay,” she voiced awkwardly. “My name is Ariel.”

She motioned for me to speak.

My body itself protested against it, but I wanted to. There was something about her that was so persuading.

I had to fight with my own voice to say, “C-Coltan.”

Her fine brows knitted together into a frown. “Coltan? That's a boy's name isn't it?”

A painful jolt of despair flashed through me as I remembered who I was then.

“C-Cer-Cerula,” I said, my voice faltering.

She smiled cheerfully, but her lips remained stiff and silent for a full five seconds before they dropped.

“Wait… Cerula…?” she murmured to herself. “Isn't she… villain… game...?

I could barely hear anything from her muttering aside from some puzzling bits and pieces and I felt some unease from her suspicious behavior. An ominous scorpion laid by my head with its stinger at the ready.

“Where are we?” she asked, her aloe eyes staring into my own.

I traced back through my local knowledge of the geographics and guessed our location. My logical mind was still intact after the assault of sentiments. The incident happened on Denture Street, where I lived, so the hospital should be… “MK Memorial Hospital,” I answered softly.

Suddenly, she seemed to be on edge, as if she were peering over a cliff with a fear of heights.Her mouth gaped open and she looked me over, at my face, hair, and features. For a moment my self-conscious self popped up, but I pushed it back down.

“This can't be real,” she said and followed it with a short and almost hysterical laugh. “It can't be!”

She threw her head back. “And it had to be this game too.”

Her change of tone and attitude filled me with a peculiar feeling of dread, but also great curiosity.

Who was this girl?