Unknown Voices
The apartment was as Rachel had left it—tidy, minimalistic, and quiet. The space had always been her sanctuary, a place where she could retreat from the pressures of the world. A simple, sleek sofa stood against one wall, and the subtle hum of the city outside barely reached her ears. She'd never been one for clutter, preferring a space that reflected a quiet orderliness.
She entered the apartment and dropped her bag by the door with a soft thud. It was a small, comforting sound, one that was almost ceremonial in its familiarity. Rachel took a deep breath as she stood there for a moment, feeling the tension in her shoulders begin to loosen, the heaviness of the day slowly sinking into the quiet.
Without thinking, she moved toward the kitchen, her movements mechanical. She opened the refrigerator, the cool air hitting her face as she scanned its contents—simple ingredients, nothing extravagant. She pulled out a few vegetables, the remnants of a meal she had prepared earlier in the week, and began to chop them with methodical precision. Each slice, each motion of the knife, was a small distraction, a tiny anchor that helped her ground herself in the present, away from the overwhelming chaos of the day.
The kettle whistled softly as she boiled water for tea. She moved around the kitchen with a sense of practiced ease, the quiet clicking of the stove and the rhythmic chop of the knife filling the otherwise silent apartment. Despite the calm atmosphere, Rachel's mind was elsewhere.
her mind kept wandering back to the veil warning. The words that had echoed in her head during her stay in the hospital seemed to swirl in her thoughts, clouding her focus.
"The threads of fate have already been spun. There is no turning back."
Rachel rubbed her forehead, the weight of the words pressing down on her like a storm cloud. What did it mean? Why had it come to her? The veil had granted her more than just a glimpse into her future—it had shown her something darker, something more dangerous. And the knowledge that she might not be able to change the course of what was coming unsettled her in a way that she hadn't expected.
After finishing her simple meal, Rachel moved to her small bathroom, washing her hands and changing into her sleepwear—a soft, loose-fitting shirt and comfortable pants. She stood in front of the mirror for a long moment, eyes tracing the faint shadows beneath them, her reflection an almost alien presence. She had always been composed, always in control, but tonight... tonight, something felt different. The night stretched on, her thoughts swirling like a storm, and all she could do was climb into bed, pulling the covers tight around her.
The bed felt cold despite the warmth of the apartment, a sharp contrast to the heaviness she felt in her chest. She lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, watching the faint shadows shift in the moonlight that filtered through the window. The city outside was alive—its hum, its pulse—a stark contrast to the stillness in her apartment.
Her mind raced, spinning through memories of the ceremony, of the veil's warning, of the uncertainty hanging over her future. Titanfall Academy awaited, yes, but there was something else—something darker, something she couldn't shake. What was coming? What was she about to step into?
Her thoughts circled back to the moment with Elena, to the bond they shared. Rachel knew she would keep her promise—no matter how far apart they were, no matter what came next, she would always find a way to keep their connection strong. That thought, more than anything else, grounded her in that moment, even as everything else in her life felt like it was about to fall apart.
Her body ached with exhaustion, but sleep refused to claim her. The weight of everything that had happened in the past few days sat heavy on her chest, pressing down like an unseen force. The awakening ceremony, the veil's warning, the strange, lingering sensation of something watching her, something waiting—it all felt like a storm brewing just beyond the horizon.
With a quiet exhale, Rachel turned onto her side, her gaze falling to her hands, fingers curling and uncurling absently as if grasping for something just beyond her reach. Then, without much thought, she reached inward—toward the unseen, toward the thing that had become an inescapable part of her since that day.
She willed the Veil Interface to manifest.
A familiar sensation washed over her, like stepping through an unseen threshold. A faint shimmer in the air coalesced above her, ghostly symbols flickering into existence, arranging themselves into a structured interface of deep violet and faint silver hues. The letters glowed softly, shifting slightly, as though struggling to contain the sheer magnitude of the information they carried.
Veil Interface Activated
A translucent panel materialized before her, its edges pulsing faintly like the quiet beat of a living thing.
---
{General Information}
Name: Rachel Ardent
Age: 16
Realm: Novice Realm
---
Rachel frowned slightly. Nothing had changed here. It was expected—she had only recently awakened, after all. Yet, a part of her still hoped that something—anything—would indicate progress.
She continued reading, scrolling down with a mere thought.
---
{Talents}
Sovereign Aetherflare
A power unparalleled in brilliance and ruin. Its light carries the potential to reshape reality, but its true price is extracted from the soul of its bearer. Beware the burden of wielding such a force, for it is both gift and curse.
---
Rachel's lips pressed together in a thin line.
She had seen this description before, but every time she read it, it unsettled her. Reshape reality? What did that even mean? And more importantly, what price would she have to pay?
There were too many questions and not enough answers.
She scrolled further.
---
{Special Classification}
Divine Element
A fragment of creation's origin, forged in the fires of eternity. Its essence is not your ally—it is a weight, a chain that binds you to a destiny fraught with peril. Few survive the burden; none escape it unchanged.
---
Rachel's throat tightened.
She hadn't told anyone about this classification. Not even Elena.
The words felt heavier than they should, laced with an unseen finality. Few survive the burden. That line gnawed at her every time she saw it. What does that mean? Did this power come with consequences no one had warned her about?
Forcing herself to push forward, she scrolled further down, but the moment she reached the next section, a strange static flickered across the interface, making the letters distort as if reality itself was struggling to contain the information.
The atmosphere in the room seemed to shift, a subtle, almost imperceptible change in pressure, as if something had briefly turned its gaze toward her.
---
{Anomaly Detected}
⚠ WARNING: CLASSIFIED ENTITY ⚠
DIVINE EYE OF THE VOID
Origin: ⸺ Beyond Veil Comprehension ⸺
Nature: Undefined
Threat Level: Unmeasurable
Status: Locked / Incomprehensible
---
Rachel's pulse quickened slightly.
She had seen this before, but it never failed to unnerve her.
Anomaly Detected.
The words alone sent a shiver down her spine.
The Divine Eye of the Void.
This was the very thing that separated her from ordinary awakeners—the force that had awakened within her during the ceremony, yet refused to be understood. Even the Veil Interface, an omnipresent force designed to catalog and monitor abilities, couldn't comprehend it.
Rachel exhaled sharply, willing herself to remain calm. She forced herself to continue reading, her eyes scanning the next section.
---
{Abilities Analysis}
⛒ Skill 1: [ERROR: Data Corrupted]
⛒ Skill 2: [CANNOT PROCESS: Beyond Veil Limitations]
⛒ Skill 3: [WARNING: Incomprehensible Force Detected]
⛒ Skill 4: [UNKNOWN: Anomaly Untraceable]
⛒ Skill 5: [ERROR: Breach of Parameters]
⛒ Skill 6: [WARNING: Exists Outside Dimensional Constructs]
---
Rachel clenched her jaw.
Still locked.
She let out a slow breath, pressing her fingers against her forehead. No progress. No new information. Nothing.
Ever since her awakening, she had tried everything she could think of to force these abilities to surface. Meditation, forced concentration, even physical exertion. None of it worked. It was as if something was actively keeping these powers buried, suppressing them in a way she couldn't overcome.
She knew what this meant: Whatever she had awakened, it wasn't something that followed normal rules.
And that terrified her more than she was willing to admit.
A sudden pressure built in her chest, frustration curling in her stomach like a restless beast. The words on the interface were a reminder of how little control she had over her own fate. She had thought awakening would mean gaining power, understanding her place in the world—but instead, it had brought nothing but questions and chains she didn't know how to break.
The Veil Interface flickered again, a soft hum vibrating through the air, and then—just like that—it vanished.
Rachel let her arm drop to her side, her fingers curling into the sheets. The dim glow of the city lights outside seemed colder now, distant, detached from the storm raging within her.
She exhaled slowly.
"Still locked, huh," she muttered under her breath, the words barely more than a whisper.
Her voice carried the weight of exhaustion, of unanswered questions, of something deeper she couldn't quite name.
She wanted to fight against it—to force the answers out of the veil, out of fate itself—but she was tired. Too tired.
She turned onto her side, pulling the covers up slightly, seeking warmth against the emptiness that stretched before her.
She would figure it out.
She had to.
But for now, there was nothing more she could do.
Her eyelids grew heavy, her body sinking into the soft embrace of her bed. The last thing she saw before sleep claimed her was the faint glow of the city lights casting long shadows against her wall, whispering secrets she wasn't yet meant to understand.
And in the silence of the night, as Rachel drifted into an uneasy sleep