My brain felt like it was splitting apart.
The pain hit in waves—deep, shattering, unbearable.
Then came the flashes.
Memories that weren't mine. Habits foreign to my body.Instincts forged for a world of predator and prey.Knowledge that didn't belong to me.Energies that pulsed through my veins, wrong and otherworldly.
A world I had never seen.Emotions I had never felt.A darkness deeper than anything I'd ever known.
The pain grew until I couldn't even scream. My muscles locked, my jaw clenched, and my hands grasped something hard without realizing it. My vision blurred, and then—nothing.
Blackness.
When I came to, I was lying on the basement floor, still gripping something cold and smooth.
I looked down. A white handle.
Realization hit like a lightning bolt.
The scythe.
Panic surged through me. I threw it across the floor and scrambled backward, heart hammering. My breath came fast and uneven as I stared at the weapon.
Then, a voice—not a sound, but a thought—echoed in my mind.
[Memory Organization Procedure][Partially Completed]
It talks.
"What do you want from me?" I whispered.
[Objective list according to priority][Priority One: Defend Entity Taylor][Priority Two: Serve Entity Taylor]
"You're here to serve me?" My voice trembled. "Are you part of… my power?"
[Designation: Queen Administrator][Shard Power of Host Entity: Taylor]
I froze.
"You're… my power? Then that means… I'm a parahuman?"
[Affirmative. Non-hosts' designation for Host Entity Taylor is: Parahuman.]
The word hung in the air like a verdict.
I'm a parahuman.
If it had been the old me—the one before the nightmares, before the memories—I would've been thrilled. I would've dreamed of being a hero.
But now?
I didn't even know what I wanted anymore. The excitement, the hope… it all felt like someone else's emotions.
Maybe my power knew better. So I asked, almost timidly,
"What should we do next?"
I realized how insane I sounded—talking to a weapon.
[Suggestion Acquired: Data]
"Data? You want me to… acquire knowledge?"
That didn't sound so bad, but—"I'm not exactly the smartest. My mom was an English professor, sure, but after the Trio…" I trailed off. "I've been behind in school for years."
[Amendment][Elaboration]
"Oh—you mean learn about my powers?"
[Affirmative]
"But wait," I said, frowning. "Aren't you my powers? Shouldn't you already know everything?"
[Negative]
"You don't?" I blinked. "So it's… not your power. It's mine."
[Agreement]
"So you're just… my helper, then?"
[Affirmative]
"Okay, helper," I muttered. "Then what can I do?"
[Negative]
"What?" I snapped. "You don't know? You're supposed to be my powers!"
[Elaboration]
My stomach dropped. "If you don't know what I can do… how am I supposed to?"
[Elaboration]
"Wait. You think I already know?"
[Affirmative][Elaboration]
"But I don't remember—" I stopped mid-sentence. My breath caught.
The memories.
Those weren't just random images. They weren't someone else's life.
They were instructions.
Lessons.
Power condensed into dreams.
"I see," I whispered, realization dawning like a slow dawn in a nightmare. "They weren't just dreams—they were training. My power's memories."
I stared down at my trembling hands. Energy shimmered faintly around them—alive, familiar.
"So… energy manipulation."
It sounded strange, but somehow right.
"That's what I do."