I woke up with a jolt, gasping like I'd surfaced from drowning in an unseen tide. My chest was tight, the air thin, and the lingering sensation of that hospital clung to me like a ghost. Weeks had passed since the operation, but the phantom ache in my abdomen reminded me that I'd been on the edge—closer to death than I wanted to admit. I blinked hard, clearing the blur from my eyes as my dorm room slowly swam into focus. Morning light sliced through the half-drawn curtains, casting pale streaks across the clutter—textbooks as usual like at our home scattered, empty water bottles neatly stacked beside the sealed garbage bag I am planning to throw out later. It felt like chaos, but it was my chaos.
I sat up, wincing as my legs tangled in the blanket, trapping me for a moment before I shook it free.
And then, as if on cue, it appeared—the familiar shimmer in the air above me.
No. Not the air. The message. Opaque, unyielding, and more intrusive than ever. It hovered before my eyes like it had every other time, demanding my attention, pulling me back into its strange reality.
[ System Upgrade Complete ]
[ Skill Unlocked: Clairvoyance ]
The words hung there, heavy with meaning. Clairvoyance? My mind raced as I stared at the glowing text, trying to process what it meant. A skill? For me?
[ Yes, and congratulations on completing the tutorial ]
After a few weeks of not having to hear from the system. I oddly felt satisfied seeing the system talking to me again.
[ Clairvoyance allows you to access information that is normally inaccessible to a normal person. Based on this information, you can analyze and make more calculated decisions. ]
Hmmm… I wonder what kind of information I can access?
[ A person's personal information, an object that could possibly be helpful to you… imagine you have the examine function which is seen in most video games ]
The words sank in, sending a pulse of adrenaline through me. My heart pounded, each beat thunderous in the silence of the room. This was... unexpectedly good. Clairvoyance felt like a key, a secret doorway into the unknown. I could feel it, just beyond the surface, a world of truths no one else could see.
For weeks, the system had been both a lifeline and a leash. Right after the tutorial, it only communicates before and during a mission or tasks. However, the communication is only limited to the mission only. It forced tasks on me, yes, but in return, I recovered faster than anyone thought possible. And not just physically—my life started to stitch itself together, piece by piece. People talked to me, actually talked to me. The kind of conversations that felt... real. I owed a lot to the system, but I hated it too, hated how it crept into every corner of my mind, making me feel like my life wasn't fully mine anymore.
But, yet again, thanks to the system. Even the Doctors are surprised at how fast I have recovered after the operation done to me by Dr. Jannette.
But now, staring at the word "Clairvoyance" and its benefits, all of that resentment melted away. This is power. Untapped potential, thrumming beneath my skin. I could use this.
Clairvoyance… I had to test it, curiosity flooding through me, I keep wondering what the information would look like, and what information it would give me?.
I glanced over at Ethan, my dorm mate, sprawled out on his bed like he didn't have a care in the world—well, at least on the surface. His dark hair was as messy as ever, a tumble of curls that never seemed to behave. His fingers scrolled mindlessly through his phone, the blue light casting shadows over his sharp, angular face. The faintest crease formed between his brows, but it was subtle—if you didn't know better, you'd think he was fine.
But I knew better.
I took a deep breath, feeling the energy shift in the air around me. I don't know how to activate clairvoyance, but my eagerness to activate it while looking at Ethan activated Clairvoyance, and suddenly, it was as if I was seeing Ethan for the first time. No, not just seeing—understanding.
[ Ethan ]
[ Age: 20 ]
[ Major: Computer Science ]
[ Hidden Talent: Skilled hacker ]
[ Current Mood: Anxious about an upcoming presentation ]
I stared at him, my heart racing as the information poured into my mind. It was surreal, like flipping through a book that detailed every facet of someone's life. He looked the same—same nervous energy, the constant bounce of his leg against the bed frame—but now I could feel the anxiety rolling off him, invisible to the naked eye but so obvious to me now.
How long had I been blind to this? His simple body language that was supposed to tell me what he was thinking, or feeling.
"Hey, Ethan," I called, my voice coming out smoother than I expected, a slow grin pulling at the corners of my mouth. "Are you ready for that presentation?"
Ethan's head snapped up, his phone nearly slipping from his grip. His eyes—dark and wide—fixed on me, blinking in confusion. "Uh… yeah, I guess. How'd you know I had a presentation?"
I shrugged, the grin growing despite myself. "Lucky guess."
But it wasn't luck, and we both knew it. He watched me for a second longer, then looked away, muttering something under his breath before going back to his phone. But I wasn't done. The rush was addicting. Knowing something just by activating a skill I just acquired? It gnawed at me, begging me to push further. What else could I uncover? Who else could I see for what they really were?
An idea struck me.
I grabbed my laptop, flipping it open with a snap and pulling up an old lecture recording. Professor Martinez's face appeared on the screen, droning about calculus with the same bored tone he always had. His eyes—small, hooded, and framed by thick glasses—darted across his notes, his mouth moving mechanically as he spat out formulas and equations. His sharp features always made him seem intense, like a man who had everything under control.
But I knew better now.
I leaned in, focusing on his image, and let Clairvoyance do the work.
[ Professor Martinez ]
[ Subject: Calculus ]
[ True Intention: Hopes to become a renowned mathematician ]
[ Weaknesses: Struggles with public speaking ]
I let out a low chuckle, shaking my head in disbelief. Sir Martinez—the man who always seemed so untouchable, so sure of himself—was cracking under the weight of his own insecurities. I could see it now in the way his voice wavered, barely noticeable to anyone else. The way his fingers tightened around the edges of his notes, as if they were the only thing keeping him grounded.
"Even the greats have their weaknesses," I muttered, leaning back in my chair.
Clairvoyance wasn't just a skill—it was a weapon, a key to unlocking the hidden truths everyone tried to keep locked away. And I can activate it anytime I want.
The hours slipped by, lost in the haze of Clairvoyance. It was like stepping into a new world where the walls of reality were thin, peeling back with just a thought. Each time I tapped into it, the ordinary melted away. No one was as simple as they seemed.
My classmates weren't just faces in lecture halls—they were mosaics of ambition, fear, and hidden talent. Sarah, the quiet girl in biology who always sat two rows behind me, wasn't just a diligent student. She had a photographic memory. I could see it now in the way her eyes flicked across the page, locking every word into some mental vault. Max, the guy who never seemed to study but always aced his tests? Turns out, he had a near-perfect gut instinct for multiple-choice questions. It was uncanny.
The professors were no different. Dr. Peters, my history professor, always had this air of superiority, but when I looked deeper, the cracks were visible. His smooth voice, usually commanding, had moments of hesitation, like he wasn't sure his words would land. Clairvoyance whispered the truth—he was terrified of being forgotten, of retiring and becoming just another name in a dusty faculty directory.
With each new revelation, the world became a puzzle, and I had the key. Clairvoyance wasn't just a trick, it was a superpower, bending reality into something I could manipulate, predict, control.
Before I knew it, I was acing my exams, blowing through problems that used to make my head spin. The numbers on a calculus test rearranged themselves like they wanted me to win, like they wanted me to succeed. I wasn't struggling anymore. I was coasting, no, soaring. It felt good—no, it felt right—to be on top.
In class, I started to notice the way people looked at me. Conversations that used to feel awkward, forced, became effortless. I could feel the way their moods shifted before they even opened their mouths. They didn't need to say anything—I already knew what they were going to ask, what they wanted from me. It was like playing chess with an opponent who only knew how to move pawns.
"Robert, you seem... different lately," Sarah said one day after class, her eyes squinting at me, suspicion creeping into her usually soft features. She tugged at the strap of her backpack, her lip caught between her teeth like she was trying to decide if she should push further.
I flashed her an easy smile, shrugging like it was no big deal. "Just studying harder, I guess. You know how it is."
Her eyes narrowed slightly, not buying it, but she let it go. People didn't press me much anymore. They could feel something had changed. I wasn't the same Robert they used to know. I moved through campus lighter, more confident, as if I owned the ground beneath my feet.
But that kind of power? It doesn't stay unnoticed for long.
The whispers started first. Casual remarks, like a shadow passing over my name. "Did you see Robert's score? He wasn't that good before, right?" "It's like he knows exactly what to say." "You sure he's not cheating?"
I caught glances from across the cafeteria—quick, darting stares from people I didn't even know. Some of them looked impressed, others… others not so much.
One day, walking through the quad, I bumped into Max. Literally. The guy had his nose buried in his phone, but as I passed by, I felt the weight of his eyes lift from the screen and land on me. He looked me up and down like he was sizing me up, calculating. His tall frame loomed slightly, his broad shoulders blocking my path, though he pretended it was an accident.
"Hey, man," Max said, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You've been killing it lately. How'd you get so good all of a sudden?"
I forced a laugh, shrugging. "Guess I've just been focusing more. You know how it is, sometimes things just… click."
"Yeah… click," he echoed, his eyes narrowing. There was something hard in his gaze, a sharpness that hadn't been there before. It made my skin crawl. "Funny how fast you've been clicking, huh? It's almost like you know something the rest of us don't."
His words hung in the air, heavy with accusation, though he hadn't said it outright. He didn't need to.
I felt my pulse quicken, but I kept my face neutral. "Just lucky, I guess."
"Sure," he said, stepping aside with a smile that didn't match his eyes. "Must be luck."
As I walked away, I could feel the tension clinging to me like static. There was something lurking behind that smile. It wasn't admiration. It was envy. And envy had sharp edges.
I knew I had to be careful. Clairvoyance had given me a gift, but gifts like that came with consequences. And as much as I loved the power, as much as I craved the rush of knowing more than everyone else… a small voice in the back of my mind warned me that not everyone would be okay with it.
Not everyone liked being in the dark.
An opaque screen suddenly appeared in front of me, shimmering like a portal to another realm. My heart raced as the familiar rush of excitement coursed through my veins. The system had finally given me a mission—a simple task, sure, but a mission nonetheless.
[ Mission: Buy four bundles of yellow pad paper ]
Easy enough, right? But it wasn't the task that had my pulse quickening; it was the chance to communicate with the system again. It had become my lifeline, a tether to something greater, a way to transcend the mundane routine of my days.
"System," I whispered, half-expecting a response. The air felt charged, crackling with anticipation as if the campus itself leaned in, waiting for the first word.
[ Mission accepted ]
The screen flickered to life, confirming my acceptance.
[ Mission: Buy four bundles of yellow pad paper ]
[ Retrieve four bundles of yellow pad paper from any store nearby ]
[ Mission time: 45 minutes ]
[ Rewards: Gain the favor of some classmates ]
[ Penalty: Everyone in class will hate you ]
A grin stretched across my face, excitement bubbling up like a fizzing soda. "Can we talk? Like, about the new skill?" My fingers drummed against the desk, eager for interaction. I wanted to understand what Clairvoyance truly meant, how it worked, how far I could push it.
[ Communication is limited to mission parameters. ]
The screen chimed, like an insistent teacher reminding me of the rules.
[ Discussion of skills is permissible only during active missions. You may proceed. ]
"Right, of course," I muttered, feeling a mix of frustration and anticipation simmer within me. "It's always just business, isn't it?" The system had a knack for cutting through my curiosity, leaving me yearning for deeper insights, like a child handed a shiny toy but denied the instructions.
"Proceed to any store nearby," the system reiterated, unbothered by my tone. "Time is of the essence."
Pushing myself away from the desk, the metal legs screeched against the floor, a sharp protest against my impatience. "Fine, I'm going," I said, trying to inject playfulness into my voice, though deep down, I was grateful for the reminder. With each mission, I felt the thrill of purpose tugging at my chest.
As I made my way down the corridor, the vibrant colors of the campus—bold murals splashed across walls, the rich green of the trees—blurred together like a painter's chaotic palette. Students passed me, their faces familiar yet distant, like characters in a dream just out of reach. Laughter erupted around me, chatter floated through the air, and the clinking of backpacks against hips was a symphony fading into the background as my focus sharpened on the task ahead.
I reached the nearest store, its glass doors glinting in the sunlight like a treasure chest waiting to be opened. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of fresh paper, mingling with the crispness of new supplies. I navigated through the aisles, each step fueled by adrenaline and curiosity.
"Four bundles of yellow pad paper," I muttered under my breath, scanning the shelves lined with school supplies. My fingers brushed against the spines of textbooks, each one whispering tales of knowledge yet to be uncovered.
Then, like a beacon of light amidst the mundane, I spotted them—stacked high on a shelf, the yellow pads gleaming like golden trophies. I grabbed four bundles, the smooth plastic wrapping cool against my palms, a tangible reminder of my small victory.
"Mission accomplished!" I declared triumphantly, a surge of pride washing over me. But there was still that nagging thought in the back of my mind. What was this new skill I'd unlocked?
"System," I called out again, almost pleadingly. "Can we talk now?"
Silence hung heavily in the air, thick and suffocating. I felt frustration bubbling up, threatening to overflow. "I'm not asking for much," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I just want to know more about what I can do."
The system finally responded.
[ Your current skill—Clairvoyance—allows you to perceive the hidden truths of individuals and situations. The depth of your ability is contingent upon your willingness to explore and engage with those truths ]
[ You have the chance to choose what to do next after you acquire this information. Thus, giving you a chance to plan ahead ]
I nodded, absorbing the information like a sponge. "So, it's about understanding people, situations and other important variables better?"
[ Correct. However, be mindful. The deeper you delve into others and situations, the more you expose your own vulnerabilities. ]
I paused, the weight of those words settling over me like a heavy fog. "What do you mean? Am I at risk?"
[ Every action has consequences. Knowledge can be a burden. Proceed with caution. ]
The warning echoed in my mind, sending a chill down my spine. I stood there in the store, surrounded by bustling students, my heart pounding in my chest. I was on my own now, a lone traveler in a landscape teeming with secrets and shadows. The weight of my abilities pressed against my chest, exhilarating yet terrifying.
I gathered my supplies and made my way to the counter, where a bored cashier sat, her fingers scrolling through her phone, eyes glazed over with indifference. I placed the bundles down, and her gaze flickered briefly to me before returning to the glowing screen.
"Four yellow pads?" she asked, her voice devoid of enthusiasm, like she was reciting a line she had memorized long ago.
"Yep," I replied, forcing a grin that felt a little too wide. "Gotta keep those ideas flowing, right?"
She offered a noncommittal grunt as she rang me up, the monotonous sound of the register punctuating the air like a metronome keeping time for a song no one was dancing to.
As I walked out of the store, the bundles cradled under my arm, I couldn't shake the feeling of being both empowered and exposed. The system's words echoed in my mind—knowledge can be a burden.
What did it mean that every action has consequences? Did it mean there was a cost every time I used Clairvoyance? I couldn't ignore the sense that each piece of knowledge was another layer of vulnerability, another secret to hold tight or let slip. The world outside felt brighter, yet shadowed, as if I stood at the edge of a precipice, teetering between the thrill of discovery and the dread of the unknown.
One evening, as twilight bled into the sky, painting it with soft purples and pinks, I sat at my desk, the weight of the thick stack of notes for my upcoming exam pressing down on me like a lead blanket. My mind buzzed, chaotic and unsteady. I hadn't studied enough. Panic gnawed at my insides, tightening my throat as if an invisible hand was gripping it.
The temptation slithered in, seductive and dangerous.
"Clairvoyance could get me through this," I thought, clenching my fists until my nails bit into my palms. It would be so easy—just a quick glimpse of the answers, and no one would even know.
My hand hovered over my notes, I wanted to use clairvoyance to reveal what the exact questions will come out in the exams. Just then, a voice—soft yet undeniably firm—whispered through my mind, "Remember your principles, Robert. Cheating is not the way to success."
The voice was hauntingly familiar, echoing like a distant memory, pulling at the edges of my consciousness. I froze, feeling the air grow thick and suffocating around me. Where had that voice come from?
I glanced around the dimly lit dorm room, my heart racing. The shadows seemed to shift, taunting me, but I was alone. The only sound was the erratic rhythm of my ragged breathing.
The words struck deep, digging into my conscience like a hook. This wasn't just a warning; it was a call to remember who I was before all of this—before the allure of power and the temptation of shortcuts.
With a heavy heart, I lowered my notes at first, the weight of my decision settling like a stone in my stomach. Clairvoyance wasn't a shortcut I could allow myself to take. The right path might cost more in effort, but it was worth every ounce of sweat and struggle.
I went back to my notes and decided to study instead of using clairvoyance.
The next day, as I faced the exam, the challenge loomed over me like a dark cloud. My pen felt clumsy in my hand, each stroke of ink a battle against the weight of doubt. Questions swirled before me like a thick fog, each one dragging me deeper into confusion. But I fought through it, pulling on every scrap of knowledge I had earned, every late-night study session and painstaking review session echoing in my mind.
"Oh Jannette." I whispered to myself. The hospital felt unusually quiet now, a hollow echo of footsteps and whispered conversations filling the void left by Robert's departure. I leaned against the cool surface of the counter at the nearby Starbucks, watching the barista work with a fluid grace, his movements smooth like the dark liquid swirling in my cup. At 27, I was supposed to be at my prime, yet here I was, longing for the carefree days of youth—days when the world was a palette of vibrant colors rather than the sterile white of hospital walls.
"Welp, here I am, a 27-year-old doctor, savoring a brewed coffee," I mused, a bitter smile tugging at my lips. The aroma of roasted beans filled the air, wrapping around me like a warm embrace, momentarily distracting me from the empty space that Robert had left behind. He was only 20, yet his spirit radiated a youthful exuberance that I envied. "What I wouldn't give to trade places with you for a day, Robert."
My gaze drifted out the window, where sunlight spilled across the pavement, illuminating the faces of students rushing past—carefree, full of dreams. They reminded me of myself not long ago, before the weight of responsibility pressed down on my shoulders like an unwelcome shroud. I sighed, my fingers tracing the rim of my coffee cup, feeling the warmth seep into my skin, a small comfort in the growing chill of loneliness.
After months of adapting to this peculiar system that had saved me from the edge of despair, I found myself in an odd limbo. It had grown quieter, its voice now just a whisper during missions, a stark contrast to the vibrant conversations we'd once shared. I missed the "companionship" it provided, even if it was an unknown, ominous presence. "Is this boredom, or loneliness?" I muttered to myself, the words slipping out like a confession.
Suddenly, a familiar face broke through my reverie—Dr. Thompson, my mentor and friend, walked in, his imposing frame drawing the eye. His hair, once a rich chestnut, was now streaked with silver, a testament to the years spent in the trenches of medicine. He approached, a grin spreading across his face, the lines around his eyes deepening with warmth.
"Hey there, Jannette! Treating yourself to a little coffee break?" he asked, his voice a rich baritone that resonated with genuine concern.
I forced a smile, though it felt like lifting a weight from my chest. "Just trying to enjoy the little things. It's been a strange few weeks."
"Tell me about it," he said, leaning against the counter beside me. "Robert's recovery has been remarkable, but I can't help but worry about you. You've taken on a lot." His gaze shifted to mine, the intensity in his hazel eyes piercing through the pretense. "You okay?"
The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken truths. I wanted to say I was fine, to brush off his concern with a wave of my hand, but the vulnerability I felt was like a raw nerve exposed. "I guess I just feel... empty," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. "The hospital feels different without him. It's like I'm losing my purpose again."
Dr. Thompson nodded, understanding etched into the lines of his face. "You're doing important work, Jannette. Remember, healing is a journey, not just for your patients but for you too." His words were a balm, soothing the jagged edges of my thoughts.
As we talked, I found myself reflecting on my role—not just as a doctor but as a mentor, a guide for those lost in their struggles. I could still make an impact. The world outside, filled with vibrant chaos, beckoned me to step back into it.
"Maybe it's time to reclaim that spark," he suggested, a glimmer of encouragement in his eyes. "You've got a class to teach soon. Think about the knowledge you can share—your experiences, your journey. It might help fill that void."
A flicker of hope ignited within me. "You might be right. Teaching could be the reset I need." I took a deep breath, the scent of coffee mingling with the promise of fresh beginnings.
As Dr. Thompson finished his drink and stood to leave, he turned back to me. "Remember, Jannette, you're not alone in this. Reach out when you need to. We all have our battles."
I watched him go, feeling a little less alone, the loneliness abating like the fading light of day. Maybe I couldn't turn back time to reclaim my youth, but I could embrace the wisdom I had gained. With every interaction, every mission, and every student's gaze upon me in the lecture hall, I could weave a tapestry of connection that filled the emptiness inside me. I could transform this loneliness into strength.
Hours later, when the results finally pinged into our group chat, I felt my heart race, pounding against my ribcage like a drum calling for victory. I stared at my phone screen, my breath hitching as I read the words: A passing grade.
Not perfect, but earned.
A wave of relief washed over me, melting the tension in my shoulders. I let out a shaky breath, feeling as if a heavy weight had been lifted from my chest. I decided to treat myself—a hearty meal and my favorite coffee at Starbucks, my little sanctuary amidst the chaos of academia.
As I stepped into the café, the rich aroma of brewed coffee wrapped around me like a warm embrace, mingling with the sweet scent of pastries. The familiar buzz of chatter and laughter created a symphony of comfort. Just as I was about to place my order, I collided with someone, my eyes shooting up to meet the striking features of Dr. Jannette.
Her dark hair cascaded in waves, framing her face with an effortless elegance. In the soft glow of the café lights, her deep dark eyes sparkled with an understanding that instantly put me at ease. She looked different from the last time I saw her at the hospital; there was a youthful brightness about her that contrasted starkly with the weight of her profession.
"Robert?!" she exclaimed, surprise dancing in her voice like a gentle melody amidst the café's hustle.
"Dr. Jannette!" I replied, a grin spreading across my face, my heart racing for an entirely different reason now. "Just finished my exam. Thought I'd treat myself."
"Good for you! I know how hard you've been working," she said, genuine warmth radiating from her like the sun breaking through clouds. "I'm proud of you."
Her words washed over me, soothing the remnants of my anxiety. "Thanks, Dr. Jannette. It was tougher than I expected." As I spoke, I couldn't help but let my curiosity nudge the edges of my Clairvoyance ability. Information about her flickered to life in my mind's eye, a window revealing pieces of her that I hadn't noticed before.
[ Dr. Jannette ]
[ Age: 27 Years Old ]
[ Profession: Surgeon and University Professor ]
[ True Intention: To heal herself and help more patients ]
[ Struggles: The void you left after recovering and leaving the hospital. The recent loss of her husband. ]
[ ?????? ]
A question mark? What the hell? The void she struggled because of me? I felt a pang of sympathy and curiosity.
Her expression softened, and I caught the flicker of admiration in her eyes. "That's a valuable lesson, Robert. Sometimes the hardest paths lead to the most rewarding destinations."
"Speaking of paths," I ventured, eager to shift the focus back to her, "how's everything going? Still balancing your doctor duties and teaching?"
"Oh, you know," she laughed lightly, her eyes sparkling with mischief like sunlight dancing on water. "Just trying to keep my sanity intact! It's a challenge, but it keeps me on my toes."
Her laughter was infectious, and I found myself grinning like a fool. As we chatted, the world around us faded into a soft blur, the café's clatter becoming a comforting backdrop to our conversation. I couldn't help but notice the way her face lit up when she spoke about her students, her passion evident in the animated gestures of her delicate yet purposeful hands.
"I had this one student," she began, her voice lilting with enthusiasm, "who thought he could just wing it for the final exam. I told him he couldn't charm his way through surgery—he needed to put in the work!"
"Did he?" I asked, leaning in, captivated by her stories.
"Surprisingly, yes! He studied like his life depended on it and actually aced the exam." Her smile was radiant, revealing a charming dimple in her right cheek, and I found myself wanting to hear more.
"Maybe he just needed a little push," I mused, recalling my own struggle.
"Exactly! Sometimes people just need someone to believe in them." Her gaze met mine, and I could feel the connection deepening, a shared understanding threading between us.
"Do you want to join me for a bite?" I asked, suddenly feeling bold, a warmth spreading through me. "I could use some company, and I owe it to myself to celebrate a little."
Her smile widened, illuminating her features further. "I'd love to."
I joined her at the cozy table by the window, the golden light streaming in and casting a soft glow around us. As we shared a meal, laughter mingling with the scent of coffee and pastries, I felt a spark of hope igniting within me.