Rosh awakens abruptly, blinking against the sharp clarity of the world around him. His mind is surprisingly clear, and his body, once heavy and sluggish, now feels strangely light. Stronger.
He takes a deep breath, his senses sharp, the faint hum of the fluorescent lights overhead, the sterile scent of antiseptic in the air, the faint rustle of the wind outside. It's as if his entire being has been heightened.
"What... happened?"
He pushes himself up, his movements easy, effortless. There's no pain, no dizziness, none of the lingering effects he had expected after passing out. In fact, he feels better than ever. His muscles are loose, and his mind is sharper than it's ever been.
Rosh looks around the recovery room, noticing every small detail, the light reflecting off the metallic surfaces, the distant hum of conversation just beyond the door. The faint trace of sweat clings to him, but it's nothing compared to the intensity of pain and confusion he remembers.
"How am I... fine?"
Just as the thought crosses his mind, the door creaks open, and Sylvia steps inside. Her eyes light up in surprise as she spots him sitting upright.
"Oh, you're awake!" she says, moving closer. "How are you feeling?"
Rosh blinks, trying to gather his thoughts. "I... I feel fine. Better than fine, actually." His voice comes out steady, strong. He flexes his fingers, surprised by how normal—no, how good—he feels.
Sylvia's brow furrows slightly, her eyes scanning him carefully. "Really? No pain? No dizziness?"
He shakes his head. "Nothing. I feel... stronger, even."
She looks at him for a moment, clearly skeptical but unwilling to dismiss his words. "That's... interesting," she mutters, then asks, "Do you remember what happened? Why you fainted in the first place?"
Rosh hesitates. The memory of the dark sphere, the tendril of energy that pierced him, flashes through his mind. It was real—he knows it. But something tells him not to mention it. Not yet.
"I was in class, and suddenly, I felt this sharp pain," he says slowly. "After that... I don't remember much. Just the pain, and then darkness."
Sylvia's gaze sharpens. "Do you have any idea what caused it? Anything unusual before it happened?"
Rosh lowers his gaze, shaking his head. "No... I don't know what caused it."
She watches him closely, clearly suspecting there's more he's not saying, but she doesn't press him. Instead, she lets out a sigh and places her hands on her hips.
"Alright," she says, her tone softening, "you've been unconscious for most of the day. Rest for a little longer if you need, then head home."
Rosh nods, grateful for the reprieve. As she leaves the room, he takes a moment to gather his thoughts.
He looks at his hands, "I feel like something has changed within me." He feels it deep in his bones, humming through his veins like an undercurrent of energy just waiting to be tapped into.
Rosh steps out of the building, greeted by the cool breeze of the evening. The sky is a soft shade of orange, the last remnants of the sunset disappearing behind the horizon. He squints, still surprised at how sharp his vision is, as if everything is in high definition. Even the colors seem more vibrant, more alive.
"It's already evening," he murmurs to himself. "I've been out the whole day…"
The streets are quiet as he makes his way home, his thoughts swirling like a storm. His body may feel stronger, but his mind is clouded with questions.
"What happened back there? The dark sphere, the tendrils, the overwhelming sensation. How is any of this connected to me? And more importantly, why?"
He runs a hand through his hair, frustration building. There are no answers, only more questions. The sensation of power lingering in his muscles is undeniable, but it's also unfamiliar. He's never felt anything like this before.
Arriving home, Rosh greets Jareen and Clara with brief nods, too distracted to make conversation. He eats dinner silently, his mind far away, focused only on the events of the day. Afterward, he retreats to his room, where he can finally be alone with his thoughts.
Rosh lies on his bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the events in his head for what feels like the hundredth time.
"The dark sphere, the pain, the strange connection i had felt. And this strange strength coursing through my body, the heightened senses, the clarity of my mind. What did that dark energy do to me?"
He closes his eyes, trying to focus. The darkness behind his eyelids feels comforting, like a void where he can sort through his thoughts.
"I feel strange. I feel like I had felt that sphere, that energy before. I used it a long - long time ago."
As he sinks deeper into thought, his heart starts racing. His chest tightens as a sudden sensation of... pressure fills the room. It's faint at first, barely noticeable, but it's there, growing stronger with each passing second. He opens his eyes.
A soft, ethereal glow begins to fill the room.
Rosh sits up slowly, his breath catching in his throat. The light is dim, almost imperceptible at first, but it's unmistakable. It's coming from... nowhere and everywhere all at once.
The air around him hums with energy, crackling with a presence that feels both familiar and alien. His heart pounds, each beat growing louder in his ears. He thinks to move, to run, but his instincta holds him in place, a magnetic force that compels him to stay.
The glow intensifies, and then, right before him, the light bends and shifts, coalescing into something solid. It hovers in the air, a translucent shape forming from the nothingness. Rosh's pulse quickens as he stares at it, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.