chapter 4 Journey For Joy

Night falls and I lie on the cold bed, hands clasped behind my head, staring at the ceiling as if it holds some grand revelation.

"Tell me, Parker," I ask Parker lying on the other bed. My voice is calm. "Was that fun?"

He blinks, hesitantly looking at me. "No,"

"Why not? Didn't you say it'd be fun to humiliate her like that?"

"Yeah, it would be... if I were just watching. It's different when I'm in it. Watching her fall would've been satisfying. Fighting her? That's not fun."

"Was it for you?" he asks after a beat.

"Hmm, A bit."

I close my eyes, the silence blanketing the cell like a second skin. I try to sink into the quiet, but Parker doesn't let it last.

"I've been thinking," he says, his voice cutting through the stillness. "You're here because you're bored, right? And you can do... magical things?"

"...Yeah." I say, not even opening my eyes.

He chuckles, a dry sound. "Well, I can kind of guess your situation and think you're looking at everything the wrong way."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," he says slowly, "you shouldn't be looking for what else you can do. You should be thinking about what you choose to do."

I open my eyes, gazing at him. "What are you saying?"

He sits up, his tone more animated. "Think about it. You're waiting for something new to come to you, right? But that's not how it works. Thrills don't just fall into your lap, not with what you can do. Then, can't you create it?"

The words hit me like a jolt.

Create thrill?

"How?" I ask, a bit curious.

He smiles, "Set the stage, like a god. Create problems and throw people into them. Help them—or don't. Give them powers, tools, whatever, and then just watch. See how they handle the chaos you bring. Do they rise? Do they fall? Do they survive? Or just disappear."

I sit up and look at him. My lips curl into a faint smile.

"Keep talking."

Parker sits straighter, his eyes gleaming.

"Imagine this: you create ghosts—, and then you give some unlucky bastard the ability to see and fight them. What does he do? Does he step up and face them? Or does he crumble under the pressure? Maybe he turns it into an opportunity to make money. Or maybe he uses it for something darker."

I lean forward, resting my head on my hand, drawn in. "Go on."

"It's like a real-life movie," he says, grinning. "Unpredictable. Chaotic. People forced into situations they never saw coming, doing things even they didn't think they were capable of. And you—" he gestures toward me,

"—you get to sit back and enjoy the show."

I feel my heartbeat fastening and close my eyes, letting the images form in my mind.

-A nervous young man stumbling into some haunted house, his every move dictated by fear and desperation.

-Or, a mother, armed with newfound powers, protecting her children from dangers i created.

-A villain rising from an ordinary person, twisted by the gifts I gave.

My lips turn a wide smile.

"That," I say, my voice low and eager, "sounds fun."

Parker nods, "Right?"

"There's a problem though. I can't create life, not even with all my power."

He shrugs. "You can't, guess Life's complicated."

"True," I mutter.

"Though, I can create something close enough,"

Before Parker can ask, a laugh bubbles up inside me. Low at first, then rising until it echoes off the cell walls.

For the first time in years, I'm laughing—full, unrestrained laughter.

I stand, extending a hand toward Parker. "You've given me something I haven't felt in a long time. For that, old man, I'll grant you one wish. Name it."

He blinks, startled by the sudden shift. But then he grins, his eyes gleaming with cleverness.

"I want to stay with you."

I falter for a moment, caught off guard. "You really just went for it, didn't you?"

He chuckles. "I know if I stay with you, I'll have everything. So, yeah."

I shake my head, amused. "You're bold. But I do things alone."

He raises a hand, placating. "I only want a place. Just let me watch the show with you from somewhere close. Let me see the chaos you create."

"Hah, You asked for everything and make it sound small. Clever. But I like clever."

And with that, everything will change.

I wasn't like this always, in fact, i wasn't this.

Once, i was just another face in the crowd, an ordinary man with an extraordinary amount of bad luck. At sixteen, a car crash took both my parents, leaving me alone to fend for myself. Life became a grind—a dull, relentless battle for survival.

But everything changed on that day.

It all happened on an ordinary night. I was walking home, hands stuffed in my pockets, the harsh reality of the world on my shoulders.

Then, something inside me snapped—or maybe awoke.

Power surged through me, raw and untamed, enabling me to bend the reality around me to my will.

At first, it terrified me, of course. But fear gave way to curiosity, and curiosity turned into obsession. For three years, i practiced in secret, mastering these abilities. I amassed wealth beyond comprehension, using these powers without anyone noticing.

By twenty-four, I had everything I could ever want. So I started traveled the globe, tasting every pleasure, conquering every challenge Earth had to offer. Food, women, so-called adventures— I consumed them all.

And yet, the more I indulged, the emptier I felt.

Even desire lost its luster.

Then, Sex became routine, a hollow distraction. No thrill, no spark—just another empty act in an endless cycle of boredom.

Eventually, the weight of it all drove me insane. And I started doing unthinkable. One day, I walked into a prison, seeking refuge in its cold walls, hoping to find solace in its oddities.

And there, in the most unlikely of places, I finds something new: Parker.

The old man's words were simple but profound; If joy wouldn't come to you, then create it yourself.

And now, with a plan forming and excitement coursing through my veins, I feel something I hasn't in a long, long time: purpose.

And then, it all begins, the journey for joy.