11 - A Shadow From The Past
803 Words
Elise stumbled into the base, each step heavier than the last, the shadows stretching long and cold along the dim corridors. Inside her, a storm raged—wild, fierce, and barely contained. Since the last battle, her powers felt like a living thing clawing to break free, unpredictable and raw. She clenched her fists tight, desperate to keep the chaos at bay.
From the corner of her eye, she caught movement. Soren appeared beside her without a sound, his expression unreadable but sharp.
“You’re... off,” he said cautiously, his voice low. “Something’s wrong.”
Elise forced a tight smile, though her heart pounded like a drum. “I’m fine,” she said quickly, the lie bitter on her tongue.
He studied her, eyes narrowing just slightly, catching the faint tremble in her hands, the way her breath hitched when she tried to steady herself. “You don’t seem fine.”
She turned away, brushing past him. “I said I’m fine.”
But as she disappeared down the hallway, Soren’s gaze lingered on the faint flicker of unstable power lingering just beneath her skin—something she hadn’t told anyone. A tremor in the force she usually kept tightly controlled.
That night, the base had gone quiet. The only sounds were the low hum of electronics and the dull ache of memory. Elise sat at her desk, papers spread across the surface like ghosts of the past—old case files, dusty reports, witness statements, anything that might explain the murder of her family.
She hadn’t meant to fall back into this spiral. But something had been gnawing at her for days now. And then, she saw it.
A symbol—jagged, unfamiliar—was burned into the crime scene, stark against the faded photographs. At first glance, it resembled the seal used by Vael’s organization. But the more she looked, the more it felt... wrong. Like a counterfeit. A deliberate mimicry.
Her pulse quickened.
Digging further into the older classified reports, Elise found something—barely mentioned, half-redacted—but it was there: a splinter group, long thought to be absorbed or disbanded. An offshoot of Vael’s organization, rumored to conduct their own darker experiments. Disowned and erased from the records.
Her breath caught.
They’d always blamed Vael’s faction. She’d always blamed him.
But what if she’d been wrong?
What if her family hadn’t been collateral—but a target?
Her grip tightened around the page. This wasn’t just about her powers anymore. This was about her past, her family, her blood.
Her phone buzzed on the table.
A message lit up the screen:
“Stop digging, or you’ll be next.”
Her stomach dropped.
Elise stood slowly, knuckles white around the paper.
She knew where she had to go.
By morning, Soren was knocking on her door, his face tense. He didn’t wait long before saying, “Elise, you need to listen. There’s someone who might understand what you’re going through. A power specialist. I’ve arranged a meeting.”
She blinked at him, still holding the paper she hadn’t let go of all night. Her mind was already elsewhere.
“You think I need help controlling this,” she said softly, not meeting his eyes.
“I know you do. Elise, your power—it’s growing too fast. It’s tearing at you. If you keep pretending it’s not happening, it’s going to break you.”
For a moment, silence stretched between them. Then Elise met his gaze—calm, collected, but distant.
“I’ll think about it.”
But Soren wasn’t convinced. “Don’t run from this.”
“I’m not running,” she replied. “I’m hunting.”
His comm buzzed, interrupting the tension. A mission. As always.
Soren sighed. “We’ll talk when I get back. Don’t do anything reckless.”
But Elise was already slipping back inside, already gone in her mind.
Later that day, she moved like a shadow through the base, unseen and unheard. She changed clothes, tucked the photo of the altered seal into her pocket, and left through a back entrance, disappearing into the city’s underbelly.
She wasn’t going to the power specialist.
She was going back to the auction.
The same underground network where illegal information and experimental relics were traded like currency. The same place she swore she’d never return to.
But someone there had to know about the mark. About the rival faction that mimicked Vael’s organization.
Someone had to remember what happened the night her family died.
And if the warning message meant anything… It meant she was finally close.
Elise disappeared into the noise of the city, a single thought burning in her chest like a brand:
If the truth meant risking everything—then so be it.
She wasn’t going to stop.
Not this time.
- Writer
