Silence.
Then breath.
Shallow. Slow. Not mine?
No—mine.
I opened my eyes.
The world was still. Suspended in quiet, like someone had taken a moment and stretched it too far. My chest rose with effort. The air was cool, dry, and was stale.
Above me was a metallic roof, under me a thin mattress. My fingers curled against the rough fabric of a blanket. I blinked.
Everything was unfamiliar.
A single light flickered overhead, casting weak illumination over bare walls. The room was small and entirely colorless. Metal entirely surrounded me, it had dents, scratches, tallies all sorts of deformities.
I sat up slowly.
Pain rippled through my back. My limbs were sore, my head cloudy. I was extremely drowsy, my movements almost felt like it came with a half-second delay.
Where even am I?
The room was completely empty, the only things of notice was a small metal sink, and toilet tucked in the corner, as well as the thin mattress that was just lying on the metallic floor.
Last thing I remembered was running to school.
"Kael." The voice startled me.
I turned sharply toward the door someone peering through a thick clouded glass panel. Two figures stepped inside. Both wore dark grey uniforms, with a weird looking emblem
of some type of animal on their chests.
One was tall and thin, his face drawn tight with age and calculation. The other was younger, a woman maybe in her thirties, with sharp eyes and a clipboard tucked under one arm.
They looked like they'd been waiting a long time to meet me.
"Do you know where you are?" the woman asked, voice calm but firm.
I swallowed. My throat was dry. "No…?"
"Okay, well right now you are in a containment room," she replied.
"You've been here for two days."
Two days?
The floor seemed to tilt beneath me. "But… Why?"
The man stepped forward. His voice was heavier, more clipped. "You experienced an uncontrolled awakening."
I felt my jaw tighten. "N- no, I would remember that, I was just going to school…"
"Well tell me what you remember, from the start." He interrupted, his gaze pinning me to the mattress.
I felt trapped, my mind raced. I couldn't think straight.
"I- I woke up late… I was just running to school… I made it to th- the bridge outside, and saw Ari—"
Arin.
His grin. His laugh. His body hitting the ground like a puppet with the strings cut. Blood where it shouldn't be. Parts of him just… not there anymore.
My breath hitched. A tremor ran through my body. My stomach turned violently. I felt warm bile climbing up the walls of my throat.
Snap.
Suddenly I wasn't on the mattress anymore, instead I was leaning over the toilet in the corner of the room, retching violently.
"Well that makes it easier, your point is teleportation" The man said nodding with a faint smile, then he started scribbling something on his note pad.
"Wh- what?" I was trembling, confused.
What's that supposed to mean… wait… my point??
The spark that rewrote your body, rewired your mind. Powers that made people different. Dangerous. Useful.
It always awakened during adolescence, and everyone, without exception had one, most people think it's powered by the mind, but how would they know?
But one thing was certain, it was always uniquely theirs.
"I didn't… want t-to," I muttered. "I wasn't even—th-there was no warning."
"That's not uncommon," the woman said, scribbling something on her clipboard. "You probably forgot because of the high-stress trigger."
"That's high stress to you? Did you see what I did?!" I snapped.
Neither of them flinched.
"What do you think your ability is?" the man asked next.
I hesitated.
"What?"
A long pause stretched between us, thick and uneasy. I placed down my hands, the cold metal floor biting into my palms.
"I don't know," I said. "What else could it be… isn't it teleportation, you just watched me didn't you?"
"Okay, but how about what happened when you awakened?" he pressed.
"I was running. Then everything folded—like space twisted around me. And I was just… somewhere else"
And then Arin.
I couldn't say it.
They exchanged a glance.
"So you believe it's internal?" the woman asked.
I blinked. "What?"
"Your point," she clarified. "Points are typically categorized into two types: Internal and External."
The man took over, his tone clinical. "Internal points affect only the user. That includes things like enhanced strength, healing, perception, mobility—teleportation would fall under that category if it only impacts your position."
"External points," the woman continued, "manipulate the world around you. Fire, ice, gravity, terrain—if it affects other people or your surroundings directly, it's likely external."
I frowned. "That makes no sense, why is he dead then, if I'm internal?"
"Well," she explained. "The distinction isn't perfect, especially when a point opens, but it helps us understand better, set expectations and safety protocols."
I clenched my fist, looking down. "Why especially when they open?"
"Well, that's because when a point opens, rules tend to break. We don't understand why, if they didn't you'd be dead."
I hesitated.
"W-what do you mean I'd be dead??"
The man frowned. "It's simple, you'd be a pool of flesh and blood in front of your school." He folded his arms. "I mean think about it, if you teleported into that wall, would you replace it, or would it replace you?"
I shivered, being cleanly split in two by something as simple as a wall wasn't the best food for thought.
I said bleakly. "In-internal then."
The woman scribbled on the clipboard.
"So far that aligns with what we've observed. You disappeared from the street and reappeared a significant distance away—alone. A physical relocation, not a projection or illusion."
"What now?" I asked.
The woman's pen stopped mid-scratch.
"You'll be briefed," she said, more quietly this time. "When your evaluation is complete."
That was all they gave me.
They turned and walked out. The door slammed shut behind them, sealing me in with the silence.
Again.
⸻
The room didn't change.
No clock. No window. No sound beyond my own heartbeat. I sat on the mattress, knees drawn to my chest, eyes locked on the floor.
I replayed it again and again. His laugh. His descent. The split-second between everything being fine and everything being over.
What if I had just stayed in bed?
What if I hadn't run?
What if I had never—
My chest seized. I squeezed my eyes shut. It didn't help. I could still see it burned behind my eyelids.
I didn't ask for any of this.
Didn't want it.
But I wasn't the one who paid for it.
Arin did.
I curled tighter. The blanket pressed to my mouth to muffle the sound of breathing that was coming too fast.
A gift. That's what they said about points.
This, a fucking gift?
This is the worst gift.