Jackie sat there, stewing in her thoughts. The act of her fighting them, slowly drained her energy for the actual fight she knows is about to begin.

The mood within the bus she rode, was no different from outside, only metal walls keeping it in—making it more tangible and pressurized. It was a night in a city, but the shadows were thicker, and the various lights that coated buildings and sidewalks and streets, all dimmer. Making it even more nigh impossible, to see what lurked within that darkness pounce when they did.

The girl, having a sullen, long yet pretty face was scrunched up in tension. Her thumb pressed into her index that was curled above it, to the point the nail dug in, and the formation was against her bottom lip. Her head was leaned against the window, as she looked up at the purple smog that was the sky that night.

Suddenly, a thought that wasn’t intrusive or violent in the slightest popped in her head. But, as soon as she thought further about it, it just turned into the sad, existential terror that defined her teenaged life.

She wondered if the stars of space even existed anymore.

An automated announcement coming from the bus absolutely startled her. Realizing how bad that looked, Jackie then took deep breathes and settled back in as it said the following:

We are arriving at Mangrove Mall Station. NOUMENA ADVERSITY WARNING: due to the recent activities of N’ATURAL SAVAGE and MAYHEM, there is a distinct possibility that a TREND ATTACK will occur. Travel at your risk. Seek shelter at your risk. Attempts of escaping towards one’s home at your risk.

The fear that lingered within her stomach subtly hardened back into the raging dread she was feeling all day.

With that “helpful” warning, everyone else on board quickly scrambled for their devices. Opening them up, putting them into their ears—over all sinking themselves into the screens that appeared before them.

And more often than not, they toggled a relatively new feature.

The air around people began to waver as if they were surrounded by heat waves from the hottest desert day, and a bubble of sorts was erected. Their screens, which were constructed with the same augmented reality, floated about the person’s space and their bubble, creating the perfect chamber.

Jackie found herself solemn the only one that didn’t have one.

The idea of all this slowly crushed her.

She then pulled out her own device. A thick hockey puck of a phone, gray sides with a reflective black sclera as the screen. She toggled the buttoned sides, as its shape sprung into a dissected circle with a square middle. Said middle’s inner workings broadcasted its own AR screen.

And before activating it, she turned the hand that was holding it.

Staring at her puzzle piece, puffed out mark on the back of it. White, with hints of a blue, pencil thin veins strewn about within it. Her mark had curves, with steep slopes coming from them. All to form what is her "rebirth" mark.

Her making a very rash, but ultimate salvageable mistake. She sighed, flipping her hand over, and activated her phone.

Her eyes lingered at what she was looking at and squinted with annoyance.

The worse part of what she was currently subjected to, was that she was too aware. Aware of her feelings. Aware of the situation.

And aware of the various chatter about her breaking world, despite everyone’s bubbles.

“… We are at 2-30% percent of Shift Noumena influence across the world. Despite the efforts and restoration relief having progress, the very nature of it’s reality bending properties makes it a forever war in terms of scale. By the reorganization of time and the start of the Phantasia era, the influence will possibly double—”

“—Are these literal monsters that come from slime, and purposely throw off our already little chances of survival truly sentient beings that deserve a life to live? Another fauna and animal rights summit was called to have the millionth discussion on the topic, once more talking in circles and waxing poetically—all of them forgetting that they’re giving humanity to beings that will do anything to keep their biologically wrong existences going—”

“See, this is all happening for a reason. With the news of the return to life of the ruined parts of Oceania, things had to get bad before they got better again. These Shifts, they run on some logic after all. We, as a people, just have to surrender to it’s cosmic will and we shall be rewarded if we should survive. The meek, the powerful, the outsiders, the harlots—all will be shifted away, and we will reset anew—”

She was stuck between these extremes. The crippling silence that brewed the tension, and the various voices of insanity made manifest and “justified” by other voices.

And faced with other people, her possible friends, aren’t responding to her text when she said that she’s going for it.

This was the worse part, for her. Jackie is a believer of unity, banding together against a common threat. To get different ideas, different heads to solve the problem, arms to fight it and support the ones who can’t, and legs to march on, regardless of how long.

This is a crisis that has never happened in human history—the closest thing to some alien invasion, zombies rising out of the dirt—and yet in those lands of make believe are better humans than what humans are currently now.

It pisses her off. It scares her.

All people are doing, is surrendering to this thing.

“…No one for sure knows how to cause this, except for witnessing—or even surviving—a Shift. Stretches across the whole Noumenon as well."

Jackie’s head jerked towards the familiar voice, seeing an obscured young person, in a dark hoodie looking at their Aethernet.

There, they saw the visage of Tabby Morrow—“Tabby TO-Morrow”—archive footage of a particular video topic she made once she got popular explaining the various new things that affect the world.

Jackie knew, because it was the archive she watched when she made her decision.

“Play it well, and you're granted with something out of this world. And there's plenty of stories I've covered that shows that playing it well, in the face of these things, is your only option other than the inevitable.”

Jackie got up, somehow balanced against the motion of the bus, as she towered over most if not all of the passengers. They were approaching the station anyways, and all of this sensory, tension and welling emotion was making her antsy regardless, but that didn’t really matter right now. She wanted to go up, talk to the fellow youth.

Not make the same mistake and go through the same pains she had.

Too bad it didn’t matter.

The bus crashed into someone, and it bent due to the impact—the person so dense that they also caused the bus to fall onto its side, grinding away.

With the special awareness that was just a burden moments ago, Jackie felt the impact and instinctively jumped through the window before things went topside. Glass scraping against her favorite baby blue, white striped tracksuit.

She rolled onto the wet, black pavement of the street, face down with her cheek pressed against the surface as she heard the turmoil, the screams.

Struggling to get up, as she felt the glass within her body rattle, her blonde locks covering her head that also shook. She felt the pieces crumble into smaller but just as piercing dust.

But she got up away, huffing in rage.

She was faced with a crowd of people. Broken, broken people.

Parts of their bodies were jutted out and jagged, as if their limbs were so swollen that they became blunt yet sharp. A back were arched painfully forward, an arm of another was so massive, it caused the person to lean to their side. All manner of misshapen, twisted people that were eagerly willing to prove themselves.

The Shattered. People who tried to get siVis, and got exactly what they want. A broken power, a broken soul.

The type of victim that she, along with her desperate friends, used to be.

She walked forward, and began to vibrate.

Soon, each part of her body, and the pieces that made up those parts, shifted and wavered with intense light.

One could see the effort, the physics, of how Jackie’s body moved as the parts shifted as it shifted. The semi-translucent texture adds to the ethereal image.

This, was siVis.

The Shattered, despite being different people, all looked at this and proceeded to run towards her.

They smothered her, piled onto her. But she fought against them, pushing them away with her now enhanced strength, their mismatched power easily overwhelmed as they each skidded away on the asphalt.

She turned towards the brick, hunched back one. The one that had crashed the bus.

She rushed toward, punching them with everything she had, and only budged them only so little. With a swipe of their arm, shifting as well, the hunchback undid all of her work instantly.

Cracked on the face, Jackie got out of her shifted form as she physically spun in the air. One of the aspects of siVis and the effect it has on the whole, was the understanding of unusual perspective. She was aware, seeing her vision spin as she tumbled in the air, and this allowed her to use siVis on her waist, then lower body, to anchor herself and skid on the street.

She needed to focus and that she did.

She scanned with her enhanced sight, looking all over the advancing hunchback. Their face was getting red.

Shifting again, she leapt in a single bound, and put everything else into her fist. She punched the hunchback, and she saw them fall onto their back.

Landing on her feet, stumbling. Panting.

She cursed herself. She’s still too damn weak.

Instantly, each Shattered swarmed again—one reaching for her, as she dodges tiredly, one trying to use their tumorous knee to stamp her to the ground, she used her feet to jump away. Rolling out of the way, as one tried to slam her with their body.

They were desperate. She was desperate, as much as she hated to admit it.

But it all didn’t matter.

Either some light-based siVis ability, or some explosion. Either way, it rocked through this terrible battlefield.

Jackie once again, found herself on the street, faced down.

But this time, she began to fade into darkness.

With her phone in hand, she sent the garbled keypresses to the chat. Hoping that she truly isn’t alone here.