Wetlands

I didn't remember landing. There wasn't a fall, not really—just pressure and then mud swallowed my hands, cold and wet, nothing else had been like this in the cell.

Well, of course it wasn't like this, good thinking Kael! Finally using that genius brain!

I pushed myself up, trembling. The air was thick and humid, wrapping around me like a second skin. Insects buzzed in my ears. Somewhere distant, birds cried out in tones I couldn't place. The sky above was choked with pale, yellow-veined clouds, like the light had been painted on and then smeared by shaking hands.

Trees loomed around me—tall, twisted things draped in moss and knotted vines. Their roots split the ground like veins through flesh, and the mist that threaded between them glowed faintly in the dimness. It should've felt ominous. Maybe it was. But in that first stunned moment, all I could think was:

It's beautiful.

Everything was quiet, but not silent. The wetland breathed. Lived. Its rhythm was slower than the city's chaos, deeper. I could feel it under my skin.

I stumbled to my feet, heart still hammering in my chest. My clothes were soaked with sweat, or maybe it was the moisture in the air. I couldn't tell anymore. My knees nearly buckled, but I forced myself upright.

I had no idea where I was.

No metal walls. No cold ceiling. No buzzing lights or distant footsteps. Just this place.

And somehow, it felt more real than anything I'd known in weeks.

My body ached. Every muscle felt like it had been twisted and pulled too far, stretched by whatever that transition was. It felt like a sledge hammer had hit a small, piercing, sharp needle through my brain.

I staggered forward a few steps and paused, turning in place. There was no path. Just brush, trees, low-hanging mist. A faint hum under it all, like the land itself whispered.

I had no food. No water. No idea if anything here was safe. But somehow… I didn't panic.

Not yet.

The ground sloped gently downward through the trees, and I followed it, hoping it might lead to a stream or pool. Something drinkable. My throat was dry, and my stomach had stopped growling hours ago—maybe days. Hunger had become more like a pressure behind my ribs. A dull, quiet ache I carried with me.

It was strange. After everything, the containment cell, the flickers, Arin—

No. I shut that thought down before it could finish forming. I couldn't afford to think about him right now. Not here. Not when my head already felt like it might split in two.

I moved slowly, trying to stay upright. The trees opened up ahead, revealing a patch of water thick with lilies and reeds. Tiny insects darted across its surface like dancers. For a moment, I just stared.

It was… stunning.

Sunlight—if that's what it was—filtered through the mist in ribbons, touching the water with a faint gold sheen. A frog croaked somewhere, but it sounded, wrong, violent, ancient. The smell of damp earth and growing things filled my nose.

I knelt and cupped my hands into the shallows, hesitating. No way to know if it was safe. But thirst didn't care.

The first sip was metallic, full of silt. But I drank it anyway. Slowly. Carefully.

I sat back, letting the world spin around me.

Then I heard it.

A soft rustle in the undergrowth. My heart jumped.

I turned sharply, shoulders tense, half-expecting a guard or maybe just my mind playing tricks again—but it wasn't either.

Something small darted into view. At first, I thought it was a rodent, or something like it. It had a long tail, bristled fur, and ears that twitched sharply at every sound. But its eyes were wrong. Too big. Too intelligent.

It paused just meters from me, head cocked. Curious.

"Hey," I whispered, voice dry.

It blinked once—and then, shrank?

Not ran. Not leapt.

Shrank.

Just like that.

I rubbed my eyes, looking to try find the little creature, straining my eyes as if to amplify my vision. There it was, as small as an ant, it disappeared into the undergrowth. Just moments later—and it was standing on a branch five meters above me, its body and muscles were convulsing, spreading out and growing, now it was its normal size, staring down.

I froze.

Have I finally gone crazy? Why am I seeing things?

It had a point, or at least something to the same extent, if it was even real.

I didn't know animals could even have them. But that wasn't just "Normal", or maybe it was, how would I know?

We stared at each other for a long moment. Then it vanished again, moments later reappearing by the edge of the water, tail flicking once before it bolted into the trees.

Gone.

Okay, I'll just wake up it's fine.

But of course I never woke up, I pinched myself confirming that, well I hadn't gone crazy, yet.

I sat there, simply stunned.

Can everything do that? Or maybe something similar .

Which meant I might not be alone.

And maybe not safe.

Pain surged behind my eyes again, sharp and sudden. I gasped, clutching my head. My body twitched—and just like that, I flickered. A half-second of pressure, and I landed hard on my side, six feet from where I'd been sitting.

The wet ground caught me, but not gently. I groaned.

Fuck, fuck, please not this again.

"Stop it," I muttered. "Stop. Please."

But my body didn't listen.

The power wasn't stable. It never was. Every time I blinked wrong, every time my mind wandered, it snapped. And it hurt more now. Like something deep in me was unraveling thread by thread.

I didn't even have the strength to move for a while. I just layed there, the reeds swaying over me, sky pulsing above.

Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolled.

Or maybe it was my heartbeat.

Either way, the wetlands didn't care.

What's even happening to me anymore.