As the liquid seeped into my system, I felt an illusory rumble stir from the depths of my soul. My vision became hazy, and I experienced a sensation of being out of my body. I could perceive things that were beyond the reach of my physical senses, and I could see in all directions, even when I blinked.
But this experience was too much for my brain to process, and I stumbled as I sat down. I wanted to sleep, but something held me back.
Then came the all-too-familiar feeling of how I came to this world. Death. I fell into a death-like sleep. But this time, I was able to break free from its grasp almost instantly. I knew that I had truly died, yet I was somehow resurrected as swiftly as I had perished.
However, "resurrected" was not an accurate term, for there was no true death, only the sensation of dying that I could remember.
It seemed that escaping from that hellish prison had endowed me with more than just heightened intelligence. I died a few more times, but I couldn't truly expire, and eventually, I became accustomed to the disorienting experience.
An hour had passed, and the cycle of death and revival had nearly subsided. But still, no new instructions had been given to me.
I had grown used to the sensation of death, and it even began to feel pleasurable, like a tiny tickle in my ear.
The mysterious liquid had started to lose its effect, and I was left to guess what its purpose had truly been, apart from making me experience death over and over again. I was indignant about going through this inhumane event, but I did not want to know the consequences of not attending, which I perceived as really important as even my caring parents knew what was going to happen and still did not stop it.
After thirty minutes had passed, the female voice spoke once more, "How are you feeling, student?"
"I feel okay, but a bit light-headed," I replied, still feeling uneasy and uncertain about the contemporary circumstances.
"Any pain or buzzing in your ears?" she asked.
"No, none at all," I replied, at least my physical state was stable.
"Are you ready to leave the room?" she asked me.
"Yes, please," I responded, hoping to leave this white room, from which I felt I was gonna get a panic attack, if I stayed any longer.
As the door opened in front of me, I had a nagging feeling that I wouldn't be returning home anytime soon. I walked out of the room, finding myself in another white-walled room, albeit larger than the previous one, and filled with small objects and chairs scattered around. I sat down on a chair, observing my surroundings and feeling anxious about what was to come.
Suddenly, something caught my attention. Everything in the room seemed to be covered in a shade of white, even the walls had a subtle variation of white. It was as if the liquid I was given had more effects than just tingling me, killing me. I wondered what other effects it might have had.
As the hours passed, I noticed another change in me, I felt I could move the object scattered in the room but I held back, waiting for further information and instructions. A few more students entered the room, all looking distressed and uncomfortable, just like me. We didn't talk to each other, as we were all lost in our own thoughts and worries.
They also had various shades though not of white but of black, they all had almost same shade of light black.
With time, it became clear that none of us knew each other, which only added to strangeness of our situation. Then, a researcher in a lab coat entered the room, scanning our faces before speaking. His shade of black was lighter than the students'.
" Congratulations, students. You have come out alive of the most important metamorphosis of your life. You won't be in pain for much longer and wanting to smash my head after I tell you what I am about to tell you." He said with a grin on his face.
" Can you guess what will it be?" He asked.
None replied, nobody was in the mood to talk, none of the students.
"You have just become Numinators," the researcher announced, his voice echoing in the empty room. "Superhumans."
The students stared at him, their minds struggling to process the reality of the word announced to them.
"You can try to find your type," he continued, pointing to the objects scattered about in the room.
They looked around at the objects, trying to discern which ones they were drawn to. Some of them gravitated towards the smaller items, while others were drawn to the larger, heavier ones.
"Even though specific subtypes can't be known when you have just metamorphosed, you can find the main two types," the researcher explained. "If you are psychics, you will be able to move these objects without touching them, and if you are herculians, you will have superstrength."
With a sense of eagerness, they began to experiment with our newfound abilities.
As for me I knew my type.
As I lifted a chair effortlessly, I felt a rush of excitement and relief wash over me. It was exhilarating to know that I had not gone through all that experience in vain.
Suddenly, a warning came from the researcher.
"Stop," he said firmly. "If you keep it for long, the power will consume your soul instead of the etheric essence remaining in your system."
I halted my movements, though I speculated nothing would happen to me considering that my soul was undying.
"You have really strong psychic powers considering you just awakened," the researcher said, approaching me with a hint of surprise on his face. "You can wait in the next room."
I went to the next room, which was a stark contrast from the previous one.
As I stepped into the new room, I couldn't help but be struck by the cozy atmosphere. The walls were painted in warm earthy tones and adorned with beautiful paintings of landscapes and mystical creatures. The hardconcrete floor was polished to a shine and covered with a plush, intricately patterned rug.
In the center of the room was a large, comfortable-looking sofa, upholstered in a soft, velvety fabric that invited me to sink into it. A coffee table stood in front of it, holding a basket of fresh fruit and various snacks.
I just lied comfortably on the sofa and waited for others.
It was the most tiring day of this life of mine.