Chapter 6 : The Weight of A Name

"The weight of a thing is not measured by the eye, but by the soul that bears it." — Ancient Scholar

Tilana's father was not what she expected.

She had expected someone… different.

Perhaps older, with weary eyes and a heavy presence, like the scholars who had studied things beyond human comprehension.

But when she met him, he was sharp.

His eyes were a piercing green, his features angular, his stance always slightly tense as though his mind was racing faster than his body could keep up. His lab coat was wrinkled, and there was ink smudged on his fingers—details that suggested a man too consumed by his work to care for appearances.

"Where did you say you found her?" His voice was clipped, controlled, but there was an undercurrent of something else beneath it.

"Near the creek, in one of the unexplored sites," Tilana answered.

He studied her now, eyes narrowing with interest. He was looking at her, but not as a person—more like a puzzle, a mystery to be solved.

She was used to it.

Or at least… she thought she was.

The sensation was familiar, but distant. Like an old memory submerged in murky water, only fragments visible at the surface.

"Interesting," he murmured. "Do you mind if I run a few scans? Just to be sure?"

She tilted her head, considering.

There was no reason to refuse. And yet, something in her hesitated.

It was not fear. Not wariness.

Just a quiet knowing.

She had done this before.

Been tested before.

In all meanings of the word.

"Very well," she said.

—

The machine whirred to life, its mechanical hum filling the makeshift lab.

She sat still as the scanning device passed over her. The energy was subtle, a faint pulse in the air. It did not feel threatening. If anything, it felt… small.

Too small.

As if it were meant to measure something far less than her.

Tilana stood nearby, watching with her arms crossed, shifting on her feet.

Her father, however, was focused entirely on the readings.

At first, he looked intrigued.

Then confused.

Then alarmed.

A sharp beeping sound filled the room.

He stepped back. Adjusted the controls.

The machine flickered, struggling against something unseen. The readings on the screen distorted, the symbols flashing erratically.

Then—

CRACK!

A burst of energy snapped through the air, the machine sparking violently before shutting down entirely.

Smoke curled from the device.

Silence.

She did not move.

Neither did Tilana.

Her father stared at the now-useless machine, his hands clenched into fists.

When he turned to look at her again, it was different this time.

He was not merely intrigued.

He was afraid.

He did not say it.

But she could feel it.

—

"Dad?" Tilana asked hesitantly.

He ignored her for a moment, rubbing a hand over his face.

"This is serious," he muttered.

"What is?" Tilana pressed.

He exhaled sharply. "I thought… I thought she might have been exposed to the Echoli's energy for too long. That maybe it altered her genetics somehow. That would have been explainable. But this—" he gestured to the broken scanner "—this is something else."

He looked at her again.

"This machine was designed to analyze high-energy lifeforms," he said, his voice carefully controlled. "Even those with extreme adaptations. But it couldn't even process you. Instead, it registered you as something impossible. As if it were standing before the source of the Echoli itself."

He let the words settle.

Tilana frowned. "That doesn't make sense."

"Exactly," he said grimly.

She remained silent.

Because… it did make sense.

It made more sense than she wished it did.

Something inside her whispered that this was right.

That she was the source.

But she did not know that.

Did she?

Her mind said yes.

Her heart…

She did not know.

—

Her father straightened, his expression hardening with a decision.

"Tilana," he said. "You cannot speak a word of this to anyone. Not yet."

"What? But—"

"Not. A word." His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument.

Tilana hesitated, then nodded reluctantly.

"I need to process her into one of the academies," he continued, already moving toward his datapad. "It'll be safer that way. She can be monitored without drawing attention."

"You're just going to enroll her like that?" Tilana asked.

"I'll expedite the process," he muttered. "I still have connections. It shouldn't be too difficult. We just need to act fast."

"Why?" Tilana demanded. "Why are you so worried?"

He paused.

Then, quietly—

"Because I don't think she's supposed to exist."

—

She watched as he left, moving with purpose, already deep in thought.

Tilana looked at her.

"That was… something."

She nodded.

"Do you think he's right?" Tilana asked.

She considered the question.

Did she think she was supposed to exist?

She did not know.

But she would find out.