Ravenna

Location: Leight City: NexTech Labs

Zebediah listens closely as I recount my life—a tale that might have been a dream or perhaps another reality altogether. I tell him about Rust Town, my family, and my mission to save Bart, my adopted father, in a world where manipulating nexus energy is crucial. He seems particularly intrigued by the other Zeb, who looks just like him and possesses unique abilities to manipulate shadows.

His legs jitter, a visible sign of the thoughts racing through his mind. He seems to believe me—or at least he recognizes that I believe in the vividness of my experiences.

From what I can discern, my consciousness has traveled back in time. How far back, I am not quite sure. But based on the briefing re-orientation Zebidiah has given me, I am part of an important experiment aimed at understanding the dream realm and the energy that permeates it.

Once inaccessible to humans, this realm was discovered by Ingrid, the first dream walker and the visionary behind everything NexTech stands for. Ingrid was able to imbue the nexus energy into her consciousness, bringing the existence of this enigmatic and hidden power into our awareness.

"So, you're saying you traveled to Rust Town through what you think is the dark realm?"

Zebediah asks as he stands and moves to a computer to start inputting data. I lean forward, trying to glimpse what he's typing.

"Yes," I reply, my hands instinctively going to my wrist where my bracelet usually is, but it's not there. Maybe I haven't gotten it yet in this timeline.

"Fascinating," he says, turning to face me.

"Your passage through a portal aligns with our theories, though it’s more advanced than our current applications of Nexus manipulation. This opens new avenues for our research."

Zebediah remarks, his fingers flying across the computer keyboard.

"This dark realm likely functions as a gateway, a sort of backdoor through both realms and time itself," he continues, "This was all theoretical until now."

"I dreamwalked back to my younger self," I interject, completing his thought as he nods in confirmation.

"You mentioned the Waning festival, the event that led you here, is an annual occurrence?" he asks, and I confirm with a nod.

"What year was it when you last attended?"

"600th,"

"It appears your consciousness traveled back 600 years," he muses.

"Ingrid's set the first Waning festival for next year—when the veil between the realms thins most" he explains, his brow furrowing in concern.

"That's the night we're preparing you for," he adds his voice low.

I process this, puzzled by the implications. Why did my dream-walking not lead me to Bart in the present, but instead to a possible ancestor of Zeb?

"This suggests that the dream realm, like the dark realm, isn't tightly bound by linear time, or perhaps I'm interacting with the Nexus in unexpected ways," I ponder aloud.

Zebediah pauses, considering. "That makes sense," Zebediah nods. "Time's fluid there, connecting across generations."

He pulls up detailed diagrams of the dream realm's theoretical structure on his computer.

"Nexus energy acts like a bridge between realms and times. It could have sensed your subconscious needs or fears, guiding you to a moment in the past where you might find answers or insights crucial for the future."

I nod, absorbing this. "So my journey to the past might have been orchestrated by the Nexus "

"Exactly," Zebediah confirms, his expression intense. "Ingrid believes the Nexus might be sentient,' with its intentions. Considering this, you must think about why you're here. What could you learn” His gaze sharpens “or What could we learn from you?"

"Your experiences have provided breakthrough insights into how the Nexus interacts with time and consciousness, propelling our research into new territories." he continues, his fingers move rapidly across the keyboard.

"Or, it could escalate to where we lose control," he adds, lifting his gaze from the screen and staring into the void. "But I'm an optimist," he quickly remarks, diving back into his calculations.

His words send a shiver through me. I turn slowly to face the large mirror that dominates the back of the room. The reflection that meets my eyes chills me to the bone—the same face with pitch-black eyes and a hauntingly wide grin. This isn't just my mind playing tricks on me.

"Why do you take my word for it so easily?" I ask. "For all you know, I could be out of my mind, hallucinating from whatever tests you've been running."

Zebidiah pauses his typing and looks at me, offering a reassuring smile that strangely feels familiar and increasingly distant.

"Your insights and eloquence are beyond what would be expected for someone of your apparent age," he replies, stepping closer and lowering his voice as he stoops slightly to meet my eye level.

"Moreover, I've witnessed firsthand the extraordinary capabilities of the Nexus through Ingrid's demonstrations. The technology I've developed under her guidance has achieved wonders."

He looks at me warmly, his expression kindles a sense of familiarity, stirring memories of someone important—Bart. This connection is precisely why I embarked on this journey through the dream realm. I need to check Bart's safety and find my way home.

"Can you help me return?" I ask, urgency lining my voice, hoping he grasps the depth of my plea.

Zebediah taps thoughtfully on his desk, pondering. "We might continue the experiment to see if we can send your consciousness back to the dream realm" he suggests thoughtfully.

Driven by curiosity and a dash of concern, I press further, "What is the experiment about?”

He pauses, his eyes locking with mine as if weighing how much to disclose. After a moment, he relents with a sigh.

"The Nexus isn't just an energy source; it's a bridge to realms beyond our understanding. Imagine it as a river that flows between the banks of reality and dreams,” he explains, tapping his computer to activate a holographic display.

“Our experiments aim to harness this flow, to shape it for the betterment of humanity."

My eyes widen with curiosity which prompts him to elaborate.

"Think of the Nexus as a network that connects every living mind. When we tap into it, we can potentially unlock abilities that lie dormant within us—telekinesis, psychic communication, even altering physical reality."

"But," he continues, his tone darkening, "this power is not without its dangers. If not controlled, it can overwhelm, distort, even destroy. It's like tampering with the very fabric of our being. That's why we proceed with caution, despite the…….pressures to forge ahead."

A young boy appears on the screen, alone in a stark white room, with a mug in front of him. He extends his hands, and the mug hesitantly lifts a few inches off the table, hovering momentarily.

"Some individuals can subtly alter our reality," Zebediah comments as the scene shifts.

Now, a young girl appears in the same setting, stretching her hands toward a similar mug, which abruptly shatters into countless pieces. "Others have far more profound effects."

“But there are a few who are affected in more extreme ways” he adds his hands hovering over the computer keyboard. “They are unable to withstand the force of the Nexus…we don’t kno….” his voice trails off as my focus is fixed on the girl on the screen.

There's a moment of disconnect; she's just a kid, but something about her is eerily familiar. It all clicks when the footage zooms in on her pitch-black eyes. A shiver of recognition shoots through me—it's me.

I catch my breath, feeling a chill settles in my gut. Memories rush back: the sterile sting of electrodes against my skin, the darkness. The tank—the confining, suffocating tank—seems to encase me again in my mind. I can almost feel its cold, hard walls closing in, the deep, steady hum of isolation echoing around me.

Panic tightens its grip on me, desperate and constricting. Breathing becomes a struggle, each breath sharper and more painful than the last. The weight of this realization crushes me, rooting me to the spot. How is that girl me? How could I have forgotten?

Fear spirals into horror as I remember the helplessness, the intense pressure on my chest making it impossible to move, or even scream. I tremble, raising my hands to shield my face as if to block out the dreadful memories.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

"Why?" The word slips out, a whisper lost in the rush of my pounding heart. Zebidiah's voice feels distant, barely a murmur against the storm of memories flooding back. His words fade, drowned out by the echo of my terror.

The room tilts, and I stagger, my legs giving way under the weight of my recollections. I'm back in that tank, screaming in raw panic. I collapse to the floor, the impact barely registering as I curl up, tormented by the fear that this nightmare, long buried, is now my stark reality again.

"Why would you do this to a child?" I demand through gritted teeth, curling instinctively into a fetal position on the cold floor.

Over the loud ringing, I hear Zebidiah instruct someone I can't see, likely a lab assistant, to fetch a sedative. His voice is faint, distant. "It's all for the Nexus. To open the gates and usher its full might into our realm," he murmurs.

'I need to escape this place,' I think, fighting to regulate my breathing with slow, deliberate breaths. 'I will not be strapped to that tank again.'

A voice, eerily similar to mine yet imbued with an otherworldly resonance, whispers in my head, "Yes, you need me. You need my power to survive. Let me in. Use just a sliver of my power, and see what we can do together."

Clenching my jaw, I force myself upright, eyes fixed on Zebidiah. His expression is etched with concern, but it's the lab assistant beside him, syringe in hand, approaching me that tightens the fear in my stomach. "Just relax, Ravenna," Zebidiah instructs, his voice steady as he takes a cautious step forward.

"I'm not going back," I assert, my voice firm, resonating with the voice in my head.

A chilling surge of energy courses through me, causing my hands to tremble, and my breathing erratic. I struggle to master the overwhelming sensation.

"I won't be used anymore!" At my declaration, the lab assistant's eyes flicker to a deep, unnatural black, and in a shocking twist, he turns the syringe on himself, plunging it into his neck. He collapses in a heap on the floor. Zebidiah watches, his face a mask of impassivity.

Empowered, I step toward him, a smile curling my lips as I revel in a newfound sense of control. Extending my hands, I'm suddenly jolted by a sharp sting in my neck. Touching it, I realize Zebidiah has managed to inject me with another syringe, his movements too quick to see.

My growl is guttural as I yank the syringe out, tossing it aside. I lunge toward him, but my movements are sluggish, each step heavier than the last. A cold wave spreads from the injection site, seeping through my bloodstream like a slow-moving poison. My limbs grow heavy as if each limb is weighed down by lead, moving through molasses as I try to lunge forward. The room begins to tilt, a disorienting swirl that blurs Zebidiah’s face into a shadowy figure

"I'm sorry, Ravenna, but the will of the Nexus must be fulfilled," Zebidiah states coldly as I stumble and fall to the ground. My gaze locks with my reflection in the large mirror across the room—eyes pitch black, a grim echo of the power I felt moments ago.

As darkness edges my vision, my eyelids grow heavy, and the last thing I see is my haunting reflection slowly fading away.

********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Muffled voices echo around me, blending with the steady beeps and whirs of diagnostic machines. Even with my eyes shut tight, I can feel that I’m still here, in this small body, lying on this bed.

The fabric beneath my hands is soft, almost soothing, but it's little comfort. I'm hesitant to open my eyes, not until I'm safely back home, back to my mission—whatever that was.

My mind gropes through foggy memories: I had dream walked, my consciousness stretching across the dream realm, and now I am trapped here.

I clench my eyes even tighter, focusing intently. The destination doesn't matter as long as it's not here. Clenching my eyes even tighter, I try to clear my mind. Instead, a fragment of advice surfaces in my mind, ‘Focus, not tension. Don’t force it, just let it happen.’ I barely breathe the word, "Zeb."

"Yes, Ravenna," his voice pierces the quiet, pulling me back to reality. I open my eyes to find Zebidiah perched on the edge of my bed, his features etched with concern as he observes me closely.

I shift away from him, my gaze settling on the stark white walls that enclose us. Memories of our last encounter flood back—the pain, the deep sense of betrayal. I recall how I manipulated the lab assistant's mind. It was more than just influence; for a moment, I felt like I inhabited his very being. It was a rush of power, both exhilarating and terrifying. But it was a reaction born of necessity, not choice.

“I can see your memories are returning, your consciousness is integrating,” he says quietly. I ignore his comment, my voice low, almost a whisper. “The man I jabbed... is he okay?”.

"He's stable," he answers slowly, "The sedative wasn't lethal, but necessary under the circumstances."

His explanation does little to ease the tension coiling tighter within me. I shift on the bed moving closer to the wall driven by a need to distance myself. "Necessary for who?" I challenge, my voice gaining strength as frustration builds. "For me, or your experiments?"

Zebidiah sighs, "Ravenna, I know how this must look, but everything we do is for the greater good.” I roll my eyes at the self-righteous nonsense.

"Ravenna, I understand how this might look, but you must trust me," Zebidiah says, earning a skeptical snort from me.

"The pain you feel comes only from your resistance."

My bed slightly shakes showing Zeb’s leg jitter.

"Why me, though?" I ask as I slowly sit up. "I mean, channeling such a sentient force... it's overwhelming. How do you know I can handle it without... without losing control?"

“Because you are special” a soft voice cuts in. I slowly turn and see a tall woman–her presence commanding. The lab assistants in the room bow in unison, their heads bent as she slowly sways toward me.

The atmosphere changes, growing tense and electric, as though her arrival stirs the air. She stops a short distance away. Standing there, her towering figure makes me feel small.

Her eyes are the most striking feature—unnaturally pitch black, shimmering back to a normal hue with each blink. She's impeccably dressed in a flowing white gown adorned with rhinestones that sparkle as they trail behind her on the floor. Her beauty is undeniable, yet an air of intimidation surrounds her. Zebidiah stands, bowing slightly as she approaches.

She reaches out, her hand hovering momentarily before gently caressing his cheek. Zebidiah's initial reaction is subtle but telling—a slight flinch, his muscles tensing as if to pull away. Yet, within a heartbeat, his resistance fades; his eyes close, and his features soften into an expression of reluctant acceptance as he leans into her touch. It's a small, intimate gesture, but in the clinical sterility of the lab, it resonates with significance and it dawns on me.

The bowed heads of the lab assistants aren't just out of respect—they're under her spell, controlled by whatever influence she wields over them.

"Leave us," she commands. Her voice carries a layered effect as if multiple voices were entwined, forming a disturbing chorus that resonates throughout the room. The eerie resonance makes my ears ring, each syllable bouncing inside my head like a warning bell.

I don’t want to be left alone with her. The way she manipulates others with just her presence and the subtle shift in her eyes hints at a deep connection with the Nexus. It is unsettling. Being alone with her feels like walking into a trap with the door silently closing behind me. The room empties at her command, leaving me to face her alone.

As he turns to leave, Zebidiah catches my eye, his look sharp and urgent as his jaw tightens. It's a clear warning, his eyes flicking briefly to her and then back to me, signaling the danger I might not fully grasp yet. A bead of sweat trickles down my forehead as I catch her intent gaze, a faint smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. I must conceal my dream-walking abilities from her.

She sits beside me on the bed, the smirk easing into a soft smile. She reaches out and touches my hand, and a flash of memory hits me.

In that memory, she is beside me, just as she is now, on the same bed with its crisp sheets, in the stark, cold research room. She strokes my hair, whispering about my 'special' role and significant purpose. I didn't yearn for greatness or purpose; I craved her warmth in that icy room. I wanted to be embraced, not left alone in a dark, confining tank, frightened and alone, only to be sternly scolded when I couldn't hold back my tears.

The harsh truth hits me—she is my mother, the woman I both dread and desperately seek affection from. Her relentless drive has always eclipsed any chance of genuine maternal warmth she might have offered me.

I withdraw my hand and shuffle uneasily on the bed.

She observes me intently and remarks, "You hear it, the voice of the Nexus, yet you still resist our efforts here." I remain silent, looking away from her piercing gaze.

"Do you recall the tale of the Black Raven, the one that used to soothe you when you were much younger?" she asks, maintaining eye contact. Her eyes return to their normal shade, yet the pupils remain a disconcerting black

Before I can respond she says in a calm and comforting voice.

“In a world where sunsets painted the sky in brilliant colors, there was a raven, unique for its pitch-black feathers that blended into the night. This raven had the rare ability to connect our world with the spirit realm. With its twilight-hued feathers and star-like eyes, the raven flew between realms. It listened to ancient spirits share secrets and tales from long ago, learning about the universe's mysteries.

One night, a spirit reached out to it. The spirit, lonely and cold, yearned to experience our world's beauty – the feeling of flying, the sunset's warmth, the morning bird songs, the taste of snowflakes. Moved by the spirit's request, the raven agreed to help. It prepared for the journey, gaining wisdom from spirits and energy from the mystical realm.

On the night they crossed over, the sky was filled with stars, guiding their way. The spirit, nestled in the raven's feathers, marveled at the night's beauty. The raven flew with determination, carrying the spirit's weight.

As dawn colored the sky, they completed their journey. The spirit, now in our world, was amazed by the sunrise and the world's vibrant life. It thanked the raven, forever grateful for the adventure. The raven's deed became legendary, symbolizing courage, strength, and the connections between all beings”

"Ravenna, like the raven in the story, you too can bridge worlds," she tells me, her eyes showing a blend of seriousness and warmth.

Hesitant, yet curious, I whisper, "How...can I do that?"

She pauses, her gaze intensifying as her smile broadens, eyes darkening to an inky black as she rises slowly from her seat. "I will show you," she declares, her voice echoing slightly in the chilly room.

She closes her eyes, inhales deeply, and the temperature drops, the air thickening until each breath feels like inhaling ice. A subtle, electric pulse permeates the space, making the hairs on my arms stand on end.

I focus, using the sight to see the energy around me. It manifests as a dark stream, mirroring her hand movements, flowing slowly at first then accelerating into a rapid whirl. The room turns turbulent, my hair whipping across my face as I stand, anchored only by the gravity of her presence. Equipment beeps wildly, and the ceiling lights flicker and buzz in the growing storm of dark energy that spirals into a vortex.

She pauses, turns to me, and extends her hands, calling me forward. My breathing is heavy, my heart is pounding against my ribs. I hesitate, shaking my head slightly.

"Come here," she commands, her voice a disconcerting chorus of multiple tones that resonate deep in my bones. My limbs twitch against my will, as though invisible strings tug me towards her.

Gritting my teeth, I resist, feeling an internal pull. "Her connection to me pales next to yours. Yield to me, and break free," the persistent voice in my head urges. I shake my head again, torn between resisting her or the voice within.

Before I can decide, Ingrid grips my hands forcefully pushing me toward the swirling portal.