~ Chapter 18 ~

“So tell me why you murdered my brother!”

Did those words echo, or were they simply replaying in my mind over and over again, gaining weight every time they were repeated?

My vision tunneled, and abruptly the scene in front of me seemed as though it was a part of a film—even a part of the Uni Update, played for my twisted entertainment.

Not that there was anything entertaining about it.

No, even though I had suspected something like this, given Satsuya’s comments about not trying to kill people, it still struck hard, leaving me shaken. The man in front of me wavered between someone I was wanting to trust as a friend, and someone who had taken away another person’s family. But which was the true Satsuya?

Maybe they both were.

“Big Brother...” I expected Yuuki to fervently deny what Icy Eve had shouted—to call her all sorts of names as she derisively insisted the villainess(?) didn’t know what she was talking about—but when I turned my tunnel vision to the young girl, her head was down, eyes shadowed by her bangs. Her shoulders sagged, though her hands had fisted, her voice eerily level as she said, “It wasn’t your fault. Not really.”

I grasped for the meaning behind those words, and found myself horrified when I realized what they conveyed.

Icy Eve was right.

Yuuki had to have seen the shadow of it in her brother’s thoughts at some point. Otherwise, she most certainly would have defended him.

Did Mr. Alessi know, too?

He must have.

Mr. Alessi didn’t speak up from behind me, and I didn’t turn my tunnel vision towards him, so I had no idea how he was taking this news; I couldn’t confirm things either way.

When Satsuya didn’t say anything, Yuuki raised her head, a fierce glare in her eyes as tears streamed down her cheeks. “It wasn’t really his fault!” She yelled at Icy Eve, more forceful than I had seen her yet. She leaned forward, as if ready to attack, teeth barred and breathing uneven. “It was that—the Conscious! It’s a cancer. It destroys people. Its hatred destroys people!” Her voice broke at the end, and she shook her head, tears flying.

My tunnel vision transferred back to Satsuya, who still had a grip on Icy Eve’s arm, as if he had forgotten it was there—not that I actually trusted her not to try and attack again. His own expression had been miraculously calm up until now, but I could see cracks beginning to form. His brows pinched as pain sallowed his features, his sister’s words having their desired effect.

“You’re an angel for defending me, Yuuki, but it was my fault.” He didn’t hesitate to praise his sister, though there wasn’t any joy behind the words. His gaze shifted to Icy Eve, who had given up the fight to reclaim her arm. “I’m not sure you’ll believe me, but I didn’t want to do it. But I had no choice—because I was weak. I’m still weak. I couldn’t...I couldn’t let things continue.” His lips thinned, and in his eyes I could see a remorse I feared I would never be able to carry—remorse, and a bone-breaking fear that looked so very out of place on his normally calm face.

Satsuya wasn’t denying anything. He had killed someone—this woman’s brother. But I believed him when he said he’d had no choice; I didn’t think those eyes were lying.

That didn’t make it alright, though, did it?

If this were a war, could I condemn him?

I guess it would depend on which side I was on...

But this was a war in one way, wasn’t it? We were up against the Conscious, and it seemed like Icy Eve—and probably her brother—were or at least had been a part of the group.

But what about Satsuya? How had he met them? Why had he needed to make that decision in the first place?

Icy tendrils snaked through my veins along with suspicion, but they had nothing to do with Eve.

“You had no choice?” Icy Eve spat as she wrenched her arm from Satsuya’s grip. He didn’t try to reclaim it. “Don’t lie to me! Shoulder Sun was perfectly fine. We all were. We were just...” She wavered, seeming unsure of her own words, and the chill in the air deepened, on the edge of frigid.

I didn’t have time to think about what a curious name Shoulder Sun was as Satsuya pulled at his hair, a groan escaping him as specks of white began to float down from above—snow. “He hated worrying you. You know that.” Satsuya said, and Icy Eve flinched, the snowfall growing—was it my imagination—a bit heavier. “But he would talk to me sometimes. I tried to help, but I was losing my grip on reality, too. You remember what the Conscious was like then.”

Wait—

My mind reeled, and my tunnel vision zeroed.

—what the Conscious was like then?

Had Satsuya been a member of the Conscious at one point—part of the organization that killed Typpe and wanted to end the life of The One, plunging our world into chaos?

Please tell me this isn’t happening.

I want to go back home!

My mind wasn’t honestly screaming at anyone, but a voice answered anyway, speaking directly to it.

“I’m sorry, Ivy.” I felt a pressure on my wrist, and turned my tunnel vision back to Yuuki, whose teary eyes were sharp as a blade. “We wanted to wait, to not overwhelm you all at once. That was probably selfish of us, but I promise we had good intentions. I won’t keep it from you any longer, though. My power allows me to share images, so I’ll show you my brother’s memories.” My view of Yuuki began to waver—no, my vision began to waver, but her hand held tight.

“I’m sorry, but you have to know.” Yuuki’s sharp, pleading gaze was the last thing I saw before reality was stolen from me, and I was plunged into someone else’s past.

“Get out of here. Get out, now!”

Where had the blood come from? Why was it running down her arm?

All I had done was raise my hand, to try and shield myself from being hit again. I hadn’t wanted to—

“I said get out! I never want to see your face again. A monster doesn’t belong in this house!”

Her fist came forward, and I was too scared to dodge. Not that it would hurt me—not on the outside. But inside I was shivering, crying tears I wasn’t sure I could shed any longer, and as the blow struck, I felt it more than I had felt any before it.

I stumbled out the door, down the street, her screams echoing all the way. I didn’t even have shoes on, but what did it matter?

The only thing that mattered was that she didn’t want me. She never had.

But why?

I didn’t understand it; I couldn’t understand it. I hadn’t asked for these powers, whatever they were. I had wanted something simple, like my father’s ability. I would have easily settled for no abilities at all. But then I was gifted with it—this curse. Power that I couldn’t control, no matter how hard I tried.

Every time she looked at me, I saw it in her eyes: the word ‘monster’ was painted there, plain for me to see. Even though she had given birth to me, she didn’t seem to be able to recognize I was her son. When my father came home, she monopolized his time, but she kept me on the outskirts as best she could, as if in doing so I might cease to exist.

Why did she think I was a monster? Because she had no abilities? Did Typpe only love Uni like my father, who were safe and convenient and special because of their easily-controlled abilities—who were human enough not to earn the label that I had?

Why had she married my father, if she didn’t like Uni? I heard the whispers, and I saw the sneers. Though it wasn’t outlawed in the lower sectors, most Typpe would never choose a Uni as their partner, but she had. She seemed to hate her life, but told me everything was fine until I arrived.

Maybe everything really was my fault.

Everywhere I went, they became afraid of me. The second I lost control, they shrank back. And even though I was trying, I couldn’t seem to wish this Uni part of me away.

But why should I have to?

If my power wouldn’t disappear, maybe it wasn’t actually my fault.

Maybe the real problem was them, not me.

I stumbled down another street, and ran headlong into another problem. A line of Typpe snaked from the door of an exclusive club—not an expensive one, as there weren’t any in our sector, but a club for Typpe and no one else. I bumped into one of the patrons in my haste to get away, and they turned to me with angry eyes.

Anger that turned to disgust once they saw the blood still on my hand.

Somehow, they knew what I was, as if they could sense it. Or maybe they had already heard about me.

“Hold him down! Call the Law.”

They reached for me, and out of instinct, I let them. I had held myself from fighting for so long, the change was from compliant to defensive was practically impossible to make. Until someone raised their hand in the same way she had.

I could hear the echo of her voice in my ear.

And there was blood again.

As the Typpe cried out in pain, another pair of hands grabbed me—not in anger, but with a sure, steady grip. Sensing the intent behind that hold, I allowed myself to be seized, and the owner of those hands whisked me from the line and into an abandoned building several streets away, hiding us from the Typpe.

When I finally regained my sense of calm, I met a pair of nearly golden eyes and a sure, bright grin.

“You’re something, aren’t you? I’ve heard about you, you know. I’ve been searching everywhere.” A teenage boy on the cusp of adulthood stood before me, radiating power. “You’re a Uni like me. A special one.”

Those words broke through the wall in front of my heart immediately. I was defenseless against such praise—against the idea that my abilities could be anything but monstrous.

I learned the boy’s name was Wars, that he had built his own Uni family, that he was tired of being mistreated by the Typpe simply because we were different. He invited me to follow him, to join his group—the Conscious of Light—and I said yes.

In the beginning, we truly were Conscious.

...of the need for change, at least.

I narrowly dodged the strike of Wars’ brute force—or so I thought before pain vibrated down my arm, blood blossoming as skin and muscle were torn away, the bone shattering. It was a pain that was hell, but I gritted my teeth and forced myself not to scream, just as I had been taught.

It would vanish soon, anyway, if the other four-hundred and forty-nine times this had happened were any indication.

I wondered if we were going to stop at four-fifty or go on to five hundred as my arm cracked back into place, the torn bits healing themselves in less than a minute—down from the three minutes it had been when we started.

Wars’ eyes caught mine, and he grinned. “Stop. Let’s stop. There’s no need.” He stood down, and so I relaxed, not the least bit winded from the past—how long had it been?

I didn’t know anymore. It wasn’t as if I grew tired.

Well, mentally I did—but even that was improving at a vast rate. Eventually, I thought, I would be able to endure almost anything.

Wars stepped forward to clap a hand on the arm he had damaged, this time in praise. “You really are something, Searcher. I’ve never met a Uni like you. Once we discover the extent of your power, we can launch our attack on The One. Our people will finally be free.” His hand on my arm tightened, an almost invisible weight appearing around his eyes. “You’ll do whatever it takes to discover your limits, won’t you? To defeat The One?”

I couldn’t believe he still doubted me after our years together; I knew he didn’t. It wasn’t uncertainty in me he was expressing, but his own doubts that our dream could ever be realized, no matter how much we wanted it.

I offered him a small curve of the lips, pushing aside the tiny thread of hesitation that still pulled at me. “Of course I’ll do anything. I want us to have real lives.”

When I’d joined the Conscious several years ago, aged ten, I would have said I wanted us all to be equal—Uni and Typpe—but I no longer believed that possible. No matter how much we had tried to reach them, the Typpe never understood what was wrong. Now, they even praised The One when they did away with us, stripping our powers before they stripped us of our lives.

Why hadn’t those Typpe been able to understand? Why were they so foolish, so naive—so greedy and cruel, treating their fellow human beings as lesser, even when we had abilities that made us stronger than them? All we had asked for was a chance to choose our livelihoods just like they did, to not be defined by our abilities.

They were scum. All of them. Preaching about how fair and peaceful the world was under The One’s rule, while we were forced to do jobs many of us didn’t want and live only in places that had been approved.

The uncertainty in Wars’ gaze vanished like a haze of smoke, and he released me. “Thank you for reassuring me. Now then, let’s continue on with our experiment. There’s still so much to try.”

It would be at least a few years before all of our tests were complete, thanks to time and materials. I knew every step of what he planned to do to reveal my limits, and I flinched at none of it—even the things that may kill me.

I watched the life drain from the Typpe’s eyes, and I didn’t blink—even when that tiny thread of down tugged at my center, just like the invisible threads I used to tug at others.

Wars dropped his latest victim to the ground, adding her to the small sea of scattered bodies. “Another fight won. These Typpe will be sure to catch their attention. Soon, we’ll have The One revealing themselves just like we planned.” He grinned over at me, blood on his clothing, smeared onto his face—not his blood, but someone else’s, left when they tried to reach out, to stop him.

I nodded; a simple nod, nothing else.

A grin felt too energy-consuming.

No—I think I had forgotten how.