Ravenna
Location: Leight City: 600 years in the past
Confusion clouds my mind as I'm hurled from the swirling portal. For a moment, nothing makes sense—the gushing sound of the wind, the sudden light from the full moon, the very ground seems to shift under me.
Panic sets in as I realize I’m suspended in mid-air. My legs wobble uncontrollably, and a scream escapes my lips as I flail, desperately trying to find my balance.
"‘Stop struggling, you won’t fall,’ Ingrid's calm, steady voice comes from behind me. I twist around to see her standing confidently, as if unaffected by gravity, her gaze fixed forward."
Taking a deep breath, I shut my eyes and slowly face forward again, attempting to mimic her composed posture. I cling to the hope that she wouldn't let her daughter plummet. My legs wobble, but gradually I stabilize and take in my surroundings
A cool breeze stirs the trees, their leaves prickly and tangled with vines. Massive mountains dominate the horizon, and floating islands drift in swirling mists. In front of me is a striking structure: a colossal pole that looks like multiple large cylinders stacked on each other, made of reflective material that gleams under the full moon. Each pole is 50 meters high and set 30 meters apart.
The technology is unlike anything I've ever seen. As I study the structure, the cylinders look like advanced quantum batteries made from Flexi-metal, capable of harnessing staggering amounts of energy.
Noticing my interest, Ingrid says,
"This is my invention," her voice carrying a note of pride. She drifts closer, her gaze fixed on the structure ahead.
"Well…Zebidiah helped," she adds, almost as an afterthought.
"It is a conduit, powerful enough to open a doorway to the dream realm."
Unable to tear my eyes away from the gleaming poles I murmur. "An interdimensional gate,"
Ingrid nods slowly. "Once charged, this gate will..." She pauses, locking eyes with me. "It will be a focal point."
"A focal point to what?" I ask.
"The One Mind," she says.
The air between us vibrates with palpable energy, making the ground beneath my feet feel even more distant.
The One Mind. The Nexus’ core. The primary mind is where all consciousness originates. This myth predates Nexalism, a theory yet to be proven but too obvious to deny. My heart stutters, and a cold sweat breaks across my brow. The weight of her expectations sinks in. She calls me the bridge, the being prophesied to channel the Nexus’s core. She wants me to channel a vast amount of energy and perform a powerful mind shift.
“Why open a doorway to the One Mind?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
“No one should be able to channel that much energy. It would tear them apart.” ‘Or empower them,’ the now ever-present voice echoes.
Without blinking, Ingrid looks at me and says, "The world is shattered. Wars rage over conflicting beliefs. The One Mind is splintering, falling apart. We need a new era of order to restore balance”
"Dramatically raising her hands, she adds, "Imagine a world with no conflict, where the will of one becomes the will of all.”
Shaking my head I say “Unity cannot be brought about by imposing your will on others. The one mind’s fracture is by design”. Ingrid smiles but furrows her brows, unable to hide her irritation.
“You have always been a clever little thing,” she says, stroking my cheek.
“Do you know why you are the bridge? Why this power is your destiny?”
“Because I am the ‘Chosen One’?” I say almost sarcastically.
She chuckles. “Well… yes. But it’s not due to some arbitrary reason. The day you were conceived was when I first heard Nexus’ voice and saw the vision that drives our cause.”
We slowly glide to the ground. As we land, she lifts two fingers to my forehead “I will show you my vision”
A wave of energy surges through me. I stiffen, resisting the sudden intrusion.
"Don’t resist. Let it flow through you. Open your mind to me, and see," she commands. I ease the tension in my shoulders and hands and slowly close my eyes.
The world fades into quiet darkness, and slowly, a vision unfolds in my mind's eye. I see myself, older and formidable, levitating above a colossal platform. The interdimensional gate behind me vibrates with a sinister pulse of dark energy, surging through me, threatening to tear me apart.
My pitch-black eyes and outstretched arms channel Nexus energy toward the crowd below.
The air crackles with power, electric tingles racing up my arms. Some people harness the energy, their bodies arcing with dark streams. Others kneel, in awe and terror, as I reshape reality. The landscape undulates. Trees contort, buildings ripple, all driven by the force I command.
The version of me in the vision smirks menacingly, throwing her head back in wild revelry at this uncontrollable power.
Ingrid's voice cuts through the chaos, resonant and clear “Whoever masters this power controls the new reality. This is your destiny, chosen by the Nexus. You are the perfect vessel. My perfect creation.”
As I observe myself in the vision, I see a stranger, a version of me that feels distant and unrecognizable. I sense her being consumed, transformed into a being driven solely by a dark force, intent on controlling and consuming everything around her.
‘Why me?’ I don’t want this immense power; I don’t want to be chosen. All I wanted was…. What do I truly desire?’
The eerie voice in my head insists, 'You crave power—that's what brought you here.' But that's not true. My journey here was not motivated by a desire for power; I was searching for… someone important to me. The vision fades, leaving me breathless. As my surroundings return to focus, I see Ingrid’s face framed by the enormous gate poles.”
She moves closer her hands gently cradling my face. They feel warm with a slight tingle on her fingertip. I lean into them.
“ I understand, It's a heavy burden for someone so young," she says, her hands gently cradling my face as she scrutinizes me with an expression that could be nurturing or calculating. Ingrid takes her hands off my face and
"But you are special. Like me, you have the strength to carry the weight of the new world, my brave and powerful girl.”
For a moment, I wonder if I share her insatiable lust for power and control. Feeling an unexpected bond with her, I grapple with a confusing blend of emotions. Is this connection genuine, or is it just the child in me yearning for her approval?
Facing the row of trees, I notice a flock of birds flying overhead. The air stands still for a moment. I rub my index finger, but it feels empty.
I sense a rapid movement approaching. Instinctively, I turn my head as the object whizzes past. It doubles back and aims for my head. But it is quickly caught mid-air by a shield that ripples like thick smoke. I notice a small arrow, the tip just a few inches from my eyes. That was fucking close.
I take a defensive stance, scanning my surroundings. Ingrid's shield encircles me like a protective cage. She faces four masked figures, likely men. I notice the thick black gloves they wear, made from flexi-metal. Dressed all in black, they blend seamlessly with the darkness. My heart pounds like a war drum, every beat echoing the chaos around me.
“Heathens,” Ingrid sneers.
One of the men shouts, “Steel your mind. She is a mindshifter.”
Ingrid laughs coldly, mocking him. “Arrogant fool. You're not the only conscious being here.”
She looks at me and says, “Close your eyes, child. This won't be gentle.”
Three men lunge at Ingrid while one circle behind the trees, targeting me. I tap my index finger instinctively, then remember—I don’t have my MorphRing in this body. Panic surges, but the arrows shatter harmlessly against the barrier, falling to the ground.
Vines, glowing with Nexus energy, shoot out and trap one of the men. They coil around his neck, arms, and legs, then pull violently in opposite directions, the sickening snap of bones echoing through the night
If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
Another man becomes bird food as flocks of birds peck at him, reducing him to a frantic mess.
One gets close, trying to land hits, but Ingrid dodges and grabs him by the throat. The vines pierce through him with their sharpened tips.
The last one still attempts to break through the barrier, sending a barrage of small arrows. Some spin like flying drills, piercing through but not all the way. Frustration and helplessness churn in my gut as I watch the fight unfold, my fingers twitching with the urge to act. I'm not used to being protected.
Ingrid streaks toward him, her white dress dragging through dead leaves. The attacker stumbles back, redirecting his strikes. Ingrid moves in a blur, sidestepping and countering with a swift grab to his throat. The vines react instantly, tightening around him
The vines force him to kneel before me. His mask splits and falls away, revealing a face twisted with defiance. Ingrid turns to me, her eyes cold and commanding. 'Shift his mind,' she orders, lifting his chin and scrutinizing his features.
"His shields are weakening. Show him your power. Make him pay for his defiance” she commands, her glare piercing him.
“Is..that necessary?”
“He tried to kill you. He deserves your wrath” Ingrid says.
I remember my last mindshift with the lab assistant—the raw connection, his fears, his devotion to Nexalism. I could have stopped his heart if I wanted to. The thought terrifies me, yet here I am again, faced with the same dark potential.
Ingrid turns to me, her eyes shifting from black to normal color. "The Nexus despises weakness. This is its command."
“I don’t know if I can,” I say.
"You can. I've seen you," she smirks, her eyes narrowing.
She must have been behind the mirrors, watching me when I woke up. Seeing her gaze at me now, I realize she is testing me, checking if she still has control over me. “I don’t know if I can,” I say.
I look at the man as the vines tighten around his neck, making him grunt. His face remains blank and unfeeling, but his eyes reveal more than defiance—they show resolve. To him, killing me serves a cause, just as my becoming the One Mind serves Ingrid's.
But I don't care about either of their agendas. All I care about is surviving and returning to my time. I move closer to him, using the Sight to observe the energy flow around me. 'Maybe just a small shift, enough to quell Ingrid’s suspicions,' I think.
I inhale deeply, the dark energy gathering around me, and direct it towards the man. His eyes widen in alarm, mirroring the fear I feel inside.
"You preach unifying the world, yet you subjugate your others will. You may bend minds, but you will never break our spirit. Outliers will always rise. They always do." He says in a shaky voice.
Ingrid laughs menacingly, as the vines tighten around his neck. “Outliers?” She spits
“You are nothing but a thorn I can barely feel.” Walking towards me she places her hands on my shoulder.
“Do it” She snarls
As her command settles in, a slight smirk forms on my lips as I take control, his eyes darkening under my influence.
The man's thoughts are chaotic, filled with resistance and fear. His strong resolve, built on pain and rebellion, begins to crack under my influence.
Sweat beads on my forehead, and I feel my consciousness getting pulled into his turmoil. I see flashes of pain and loss inflicted by the religion. His family was torn apart, and his son was experimented on in the name of the Nexus. Their fight is not just against Ingrid but against the tyranny she represents. His anger is valid, and his pain fuels his rebellion.
Determined to ease his suffering, I conjure images of vibrant, sunlit fields dotted with wildflowers. The air is thick with the scent of blooming flowers and the gentle hum of bees. He lies back, feeling the warmth of the sun's embrace on his skin and the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze.
I sweep his senses to towering waterfalls, where the roar of the crashing water mingles with the cool mist that kisses his face. Panoramic mountain vistas stretch out before him, the sky a brilliant canvas of blues and whites. His expression softens into a smile, tears of joy welling up as he is overwhelmed by the serene beauty I've woven into his consciousness.
As the energy flows through us, a surge of raw power courses through my body, overwhelming and intoxicating. I can feel his heartbeat, a steady rhythm that syncs with mine. My hands tremble slightly, the sheer force of the energy making it hard to maintain control.
Using our connection, I command him to raise his hands. He obeys slowly. I tell him to caress his cheeks, and he complies, still smiling from the fantasy world I've created in his mind. What else can I make him do? What thoughts can I plant in his head?
I glance at Ingrid; her eyes darken as she licks her red lips. For a moment, I wonder if I'm becoming like her, using this power without regard for the consequences. The thought sends a shiver down my spine, grounding me in the reality of what I'm doing.
‘This is wrong. I need to stop,’ I think, but the pull of the dark energy is intoxicating. The power coursing through me feels like a lifeline, a promise of control in a world where I have none.
‘Just one more shift,’ the eerie voice in my head pleads as the man slowly moves his hands to his throat. ‘Don’t you want to see how powerful you can be? Don’t you want to know how much control you can wield?
“Enough” Ingrid’s voice cuts and snap out of my daze, and the man drops his hands, his eyes clearing as he looks around, confused.
She grips my shoulder "Do you see now? Even the strongest minds crumble. This is your power, Ravenna. Embrace it."
I had no choice. I gave him a glimpse of paradise and eased his pain. But... what have I done?
I whisper mostly to myself "What will I become?"
"A god," she whispers, her eyes locking onto mine with a nearly mad intensity. The twisted hope and expectations in her gaze make me realize that she is projecting her dreams of godhood onto me.
She looks at her hand, her expression shifting to one of annoyance as she notices they have become veiny and pale, as if drained of vitality.
"It appears this body has reached its limits," she says, annoyance seeping into her voice. “But you... you still have much to learn.”
“Clever to have ambushed me with a weak body. But you were still nothing but flies”
she says to her prisoner as the vines wrap around him binding his whole body together.
“Be grateful to the bridge, for she showed you mercy”
Now facing where the gate stood, I realize it is no longer there. Is it cloaked or teleported? The sudden sharp cold brings my attention back to Ingrid as she manipulates the surrounding energy, and a portal swirls into existence nearby.
************************************************************************************************************
The portal opens into a large hall filled with the sound of a choir's hymns. Small orbs of fire hang overhead, providing a warm light contrasting with the cold outside. The room features stained glass windows showing a woman in white and large raven sculptures. In the center, a black throne adorned with raven motifs highlights Ingrid’s fixation on the bird.
Ingrid hands over her prisoner to the entrance guards and strides toward her throne, motioning me to the adjacent chair. Overcome by fatigue, I sink into it and scan the room briefly: about twenty figures in white robes and raven masks encircle a large table, their focus intense.
My eyes land on someone at the end of the table, his dark hair peeking from beneath the mask—Zebediah.
The people at the table rise. A masked figure speaks,
"We honor the Black Raven, the Nexus's vessel and the bridge to the domain of power." The others echo his words, their voices blending with the choir's soft, steady hum in the background.
I look up at her and notice her gaunt face and hollow eyes, the word 'depletion' coming to mind. Her body is deteriorating from overexerting herself by manipulating too much Nexus energy.
Ingrid pauses, surveying the room with calculated precision.
“The hour is upon us—to embrace change and choose a new vessel. Who among you will dare to carry forward the legacy of the Black Raven”
Her gaze lingered on a few acolytes, assessing them closely.
"Who will be the chosen one?" As her voice reverberates through the room.
Silence falls over the hall as the weight of her words settles on everyone present. I can feel the tension in the air, a mix of anticipation and dread. Ingrid's eyes scan the room, lingering on each masked figure before finally settling on the person sitting beside Zebediah.
Without another word from Ingrid, the acolyte woman stands and walks toward the throne, her head bowed, eager to approach.
My eyes dart to Zebidiah as he shifts in his seat, a slight grimace fleeting across his visible features beneath the edge of his mask. His hands clench and unclench under the table, betraying his anxiety. He is wrestling with some conflict, perhaps about the implications of Ingrid’s choice and its potential consequences for him ... or someone he cares about.
"You are worthy," Ingrid says, removing the woman's mask and cupping her face. The crowd echoes her words.
The air thickens with swirling Nexus energy, becoming almost tangible. Ingrid's gaunt face twists in silent agony, a visible sign of the power's strain on her.
Meanwhile, the chosen acolyte stands stiffly, her eyes wide with terror behind her mask, yet her lips curve into a smile. Her eyes gradually darken from a vivid human expression to a deep, abyssal black, reflecting the invading soul. This transformation is physical and spiritual; her essence appears compressed, overwhelmed by Ingrid’s assertive will.
The room falls eerily quiet, punctuated only by the hum of energy and the faint labored breathing of both women. Ingrid's old body collapses, depleted. The acolyte's posture becomes rigid, now charged with Ingrid's commanding presence.
The crowd watches intently, their expressions hidden by masks, but the palpable sense of awe and fear is unmistakable.
The woman, now housing Ingrid’s consciousness, grins as the crowd rises and chants, "We hail the bridge to the Nexus."
A knot of fear tightens in my stomach as I see someone's essence being overtaken. Each chant from the crowd hits me like a hammer, deepening my inner turmoil. What terrifies me most is not just the process, but understanding the potential destruction this power could cause if it's not controlled.
As I watch the depleted body on the floor, the chant slowly fades into whispers as a memory floods my mind: an auditorium filled with panic, people succumbing to depletion. A boy withers away as I hover over him, a device in hand, trying to revive him. A colossal floating auditorium. A boy shrouded in shadows, and the name—Bart. I'm reminded of my mission, the reason I dream-walked.
These events lead me to a conclusion: The plan to open the gate is still active in my era. The waning festival incident was part of this, and the energy harvested there likely powered the gate. I watch as Ingrid confidently enjoys her new body, basking in the adoration her followers mistakenly attribute to the Nexus. If she can shift souls, the Black Raven in my time could be her, manipulating events from the shadows.
If Ingrid succeeds in using the soul-shifted vessel to open the interdimensional gate, it could permanently transform our world. The Nexus energy she wants to release can do more than shift souls—it has the potential to warp reality, controlling the collective will and remaking our civilization in her image. It hits me then: I am the vessel she has chosen, her 'perfect creation.'
I must find a way to stop her; my family and the entire continent are at risk. This is likely why I traveled back in time; it must be my mission.
Fighting the fatigue threatening to overwhelm me, I start formulating a plan. For reasons unknown, Ingrid hasn't completely dominated my mind, but she doesn’t need to know that. Her arrogance and self-assuredness in controlling others may be the weakness I exploit to defeat her.