Voices.
Flashing images.
A vortex of chaos that only she could see.
A tear in reality.
No.
Have to close it.
The air stopped humming and Cleo tumbled off her bed, glancing groggily at her alarm clock. Time to get up for school.
Test answers buzzed through her head, even as she did her best to ignore them. She'd gotten better, but she still felt like she was going to go insane. A flash of some parent with their child. Paris' next attack. It all spun through Cleo's head without rest.
The times between waking and sleeping were the worst. As if her body had forgotten it was awake and couldn't spend its time dreaming.
She splashed cold water on her face. It helped. The premonitions faded into a background white noise she could ignore.
Breakfast was on the counter as usual. Her dad was already gone, and she had about a half hour before she had to run out of the house.
Dad always left the news on when he left. He said it was so Cleo would keep up to date on current events instead of hiding herself in her room, but the premonitions told her everything before it happened. She'd known about Paris' first attack. She'd known about Phantasma. She'd known Achilles would be hospitalized. She'd even seen a future where Jumper arrested Paris.
Of course, the premonitions were always hazy, so watching the news gave her a sense of deja vu. As if she was watching a forgotten dream, as opposed to rewatching a movie she'd already seen.
The announcer started talking about the thefts as Cleo poured herself a cup of juice, a cold potato patty hanging out of her mouth. A sense of dread hung over her as she thought about what her day held.
Today was a practical test. Techs had to be able to handle all sorts of situations, and the teachers frequently got their students - techs to be - to work on mechanical issues as tests. Today the drones would be out of order. Hers would have a short.
The premonitions had told her, and she hated it. Seeing the future wouldn't help her learn. Copying the test answers from the Cleo who performed perfectly on everything wouldn't make her a good tech. She wanted to do it on her own, not dragged along by whatever the premonitions told her.
She swallowed the last of her breakfast - a spoon of whatever mish mash her dad had made today - and ran upstairs to change into day clothes.
It happened in November. Cleo had come home from her classes and tossed her bag aside, looking forward to a short break before her homework. She'd wanted to be an Arx Tech for as long as she could remember, and now she was finally getting close. A few months into her first year of post-secondary and she was loving it.
Well, loving it as much as anyone could love school. The homework was heavy, but everyday they were learning more about the systems that supported Arx Nubibus. Centuries ago, a flying city would have been considered impossible.
That day, a cupcake had been left on the table for her with a note from her dad.
Happy birthday, sweetie
Love you
Wish I could be there
Dad
It was a small gesture, but one she looked forward to every year. It would be better if her dad could actually be there, but he worked two jobs to support her and her dreams. She could go for days at a time without seeing him even though they lived in the same house.
She'd peeled off the wrapper and bitten into the hazelnut cupcake - her favorite flavor. Dad always went out of the way to get it for her birthday. And then she'd felt dizzy and collapsed.
When she opened her eyes, a purple figure was in front of her.
"So sorry you're alone on your birthday, dear."
Cleo had been too confused to respond.
"Dear old Dad should have been able to be here for you."
She still couldn't speak, but she thought that this was how it had always been. There was nothing wrong with it. It was just how the world was.
"I have a birthday present for you, Cleo Yang. In fact, you're extra special. Since it's your birthday, I'll give you two Miracles."
Miracle?
"A Miracle so you can go to your dad whenever you want. And a Miracle that will help you find him."
Her vision had gone blurry again and she'd found herself on the floor.
Since then, she'd felt like she was going insane. She'd managed to barely hide it, but especially in the beginning, she'd felt like her head would crack open from all the information swirling around inside it. Information about people she'd never met, nor cared about. And the portals. Small holes in reality that would connect two disparate places. Like when she'd accidentally reached for her pencil and pulled back her friend's favorite pen.
Hiding it was tearing her apart. And it was all that purple thing's fault.
