(POV – Protagonist)
I was just a few steps ahead of Emily, Laura, and Victor—close enough to clearly hear their conversation. As Emily and Laura had ntioned, it really was hard to say whether the “Flow of Ti” could be considered alive or not.
Technically, it’s just a concept—an invisible, constant force. Yet calling it a simple “concept” didn’t feel quite right either, since it does, in fact, exist. It isn’t dead, but saying it’s alive would be just as wrong.
Either way, I didn’t stay caught up in those thoughts for long. When I turned my gaze back to Althea, she was still hovering a few inches above the ground.
An air of indifference — faintly lazy, almost teasing — rested on her face, while the gentle flutter of the wings attached to her lower back kept her in that ethereal stance.
The light that struck them scattered into subtle reflections, like shards of translucent glass, highlighting her angelic appearance and the calm aura that seed to flow through her every movent.
Honestly, it was hard to look at Althea and not compare her to sothing divine — an angel, or maybe even a goddess. Her presence radiated an almost sacred grace, the kind of beauty that made the air around her feel lighter. But I knew better.
Behind that heavenly façade, behind the soft glow in her eyes and the smile that seed just a little too innocent, there were intentions... let’s just say, sowhat questionable when it ca to . And if I hadn’t known that, I might’ve actually fallen for the carefully crafted illusion.
Still, as I watched her, I noticed sothing curious—her cheeks were faintly flushed, as if a shy blush had spread across her skin. On top of that, Althea looked oddly embarrassed about sothing. Her fingers fidgeted nervously, her toes shifted restlessly, and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear in a hesitant motion.
I blinked a few tis, confused, trying to make sense of the sudden change in her behavior. Then I projected my thoughts into her mind, my ntal voice sounding hesitant: (Why are you acting like this all of a sudden? You’re making feel like we’re doing sothing wrong...)
A mont later, Althea slowly turned her gaze toward . Her face carried a faint rosy hue, and after avoiding my eyes for a second, she murmured shyly: “Well... it’s kind of embarrassing doing this with so many people watching”
Her answer made no sense whatsoever, and I looked away, unsure how to respond. Embarrassing? Why would this be embarrassing? Was I forgetting sothing about Althea’s powers? I tried to recall anything relevant, but nothing ca to mind. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more certain I was—there was absolutely nothing “embarrassing” about her abilities.
When I looked back at Althea, I found her smiling at with that sa mischievous look as before. The tip of her tongue peeked out between her lips, and she gave a playful wink. I, on the other hand, remained perfectly still—both outwardly and inwardly, to be honest.
Then, in the next instant, Althea spun gracefully in midair, her movent light as a feather carried by the wind. As she rose higher, her body seed to flow in perfect harmony with the air itself until she was nearly touching the ceiling.
Suspended there for a mont, she brought her hands together in front of her chest and closed her eyes. A golden glow began to spread from her body—not bright enough to blind, but warm, soft, and comforting, like sunlight filtering through leaves at dawn.
As she floated, the air around her began to shimr, becoming faintly radiant—as if space itself were glowing. The golden light that once only surrounded her body now expanded outward, slowly taking form and presence, pulsing with a gentle, steady rhythm. It was like the echo of a heartbeat, the whisper of life awakening and spilling into the air.
The floor beneath Althea reflected her glow softly, filling the room with a myriad of vivid colors—like a silent aurora blooming inside that space. The light spilled across the walls, ceiling, and floor in ethereal shades of green, blue, and lilac, moving slowly like liquid mist within a dream.
Althea opened her eyes slowly—and for a mont, I swear I saw entire galaxies dancing within them. The air around her seed to gather, solidify, and take shape as she raised her hands. Between her palms, the light began to condense, pulsing like a newly awakened heart until it took form before us.
First ca an outline—faint, unstable, like the breath of sothing trying to beco real. Then, a silhouette: human, yet still faceless, weightless, without history. It was made of pure light—soft, pulsating—as if breathing for the first ti, even though air ant nothing to it.
The creation floated between Althea’s hands—calm, suspended, as if ti itself were watching in silence. There was no sound, no wind; only the steady pulse of that newborn existence, a voiceless echo vibrating through the air. It was the silent sound of a painless birth—a pure, untouched mont.
Althea slowly descended, her feet touching the floor without a sound, as if the air itself softened her landing. Still holding that fragile, glowing form of life, she leaned in slightly and whispered a single word—soft and incomprehensible. At that instant, the light around her seed to bend, spiraling silently, as though space itself bowed in reverence before her.
The body of light finally stabilized. It was strange... there was no face, no expression—not even a defined shape—and yet I could clearly feel that it was alive. Althea began circling the luminous figure with light, curious steps, like a mother studying her child.
Her eyes reflected the ethereal glow of the figure as she observed it in silence for a mont before murmuring casually, as if comnting on the weather: “The form... it looks like Chronas”
She paused, frowning slightly, as though sothing in her mind didn’t quite fit. Then she sighed and shrugged, a faint, careless smile curving her lips: “Well, I guess it doesn’t really matter. That guy probably wouldn’t notice the difference anyway”
Saying that, Althea snapped her fingers. Instantly, the “human” she had just created began to shine again—the sa vibrant golden light, alive and pulsing. The radiance didn’t last long—just a few seconds—but it was enough to fill the air with warmth and vitality. Then, as the light faded, Chronas... or rather, Sara, appeared.
She looked identical to the original — the sa skin tone, the sa hair and eyes, the slightly pursed lips, and that serene, almost indifferent expression. For a mont, it felt as though a second Sara had materialized before us — a perfect, yet living, reflection of the first.
Although I was surprised, Emily, Laura, and Victor — who was right behind — were undoubtedly the most astonished. The shock spilled into their voices, betraying the disbelief that overtook them.
“Incredible!” Laura exclaid from behind , her voice trembling with disbelief, as if she were still trying to make sense of what she was seeing.
Emily, who had remained silent until then, stepped forward. Her eyes studied every detail of the new life Althea had “created” — the way it breathed, the texture of its skin, the faint glow in its newborn eyes.
“She... actually created a form of life...” he murmured, barely believing it. His voice carried a reverent tremor: “Even knowing what she’s capable of, it’s the first ti I’ve ever seen sothing like this with my own eyes”
As I listened to Emily’s words in silence, confusion began to take shape deep in my mind. As far as I knew, although it was true that Althea possessed the power to create life, she wasn’t the only one capable of it. In fact — and this was the part that bothered — I could do it too. Not like Althea, of course, but still... I could.
Anyway, setting aside my inner confusion, I projected my thoughts toward Emily: (I thought anomalies with the sa powers as Althea were common. I even rember seeing sothing like that while walking around the facility...)
Emily raised an eyebrow and gave a wry smile — the kind that blends teasing with patience. The corners of her lips curled in a playful gesture, but her eyes sparkled with sothing deeper.
“Well, you’re not wrong” she said calmly, almost pensively: “Creating life itself isn’t the issue” She paused for a mont, as if weighing her next words: “But... what kind of life are we talking about, exactly?”
I blinked a few tis, not quite following where she was going with that. She seed to notice my confusion and, after a brief pause, continued her explanation — her voice serene, yet firm with conviction: “Cloning... or multiplying... could that still be considered creating life? Sure, we know a clone breathes, grows, and feels. But from my perspective, that’s not creation — it’s replication. True life is born from the unpredictable, from chance, from the fusion of two different beings. Cloning just repeats what already exists; it doesn’t bring forth sothing new”
... Even after hearing Emily’s words, my questions remained unanswered. Or rather — cloning, replication... shouldn’t that still count as a form of life? Personally, I couldn’t see much logic in what she was saying.
Still, Emily was a scientist — soone who surely had solid reasons for thinking that way. Maybe that was the point: I simply couldn’t grasp sothing that was obvious to her.
But in any case, putting aside all the discussion about life, cloning, and replication — what truly mattered was that the Flow of Ti would never distinguish between a newly made Chronas and the real one. To it, both would simply exist as continuous points along the sa temporal stream.
The only remaining uncertainty was about the power over ti — the power Chronas wielded, one that perhaps no copy, no matter how perfect, could ever fully reproduce.
However, even that specific issue wasn’t necessarily difficult to solve. Chronas would only need to reflect her power onto the “Sara” created by Althea. With that thought, I turned my gaze toward her. Her expression remained as impassive as ever — cold and distant.
Yet, perhaps noticing my insistent stare, Chronas slowly turned toward . For a brief mont, our eyes t — and that’s when I noticed sothing.
My gaze shifted toward Althea, who hovered a few steps ahead of us. For a mont, I just watched her — and then I felt it. A distinct energy radiated from within her, shimring in the air around like soft, luminous heat. It was bright, alive, and unmistakably hers — a unique essence, impossible to compare to anything else.
I did the sa with my other little sisters — Nekra, Eryanis, and finally Nyara. From each of them, I could clearly sense their “Energies” — unique, unmistakable pulses that could only belong to them. Each essence vibrated differently, like individual lodies resonating through the fabric of the world.
But when I turned my gaze to Chronas, who stood silently by my side, sothing unsettled . From her ca nothing. No flow, no spark of the “Energy” that should have been emanating — the power of her authority, the force that governs and sustains the universe she’s ant to influence and control. It was like staring into a void where an entire cosmos should exist.
For a mont, I was completely lost. My first thought? I must be imagining things. Maybe a hallucination — yes, that sounded like the most reasonable explanation. I figured that if I just closed my eyes for a second, everything would go back to normal. Chronas’s inner “Energy” would reappear, as if it had never vanished.
And so I did. I took a deep breath, counted a few seconds, and hesitantly opened my eyes... Nothing. The emptiness was still there — cold and silent. Chronas’s energy remained absent, as if it had been torn out of existence. In the end, it wasn’t a dream.
User Comments
0 comments from readers