Awa stood frozen, her chest heaving, her eyes wide as she stared at the shattered remains of the concrete flood barrier in front of her. Dust still hung in the air, swirling in the faint light of the moon, as if the world had slowed down to give her time to process what had just happened.
She had kicked it.
A flood barrier. Made of reinforced concrete. And it had exploded like it was made of brittle clay.
A deep, unsettling realization washed over her, chilling her to the core. But mixed with that fear, deep down in her chest, something else stirred—an emotion she hadn't expected.
Excitement.
Her hands trembled as she stared down at them, flexing her fingers. Was that really me? Could I really have done that? Her mind raced, part of her wanting to deny it, to chalk it up to some fluke, but the evidence was right there, scattered in pieces at her feet. There was no denying it now.
She took a tentative step toward the remains of the flood barrier, her heart thudding in her chest. The air around her felt heavy, almost electric, as though the world had shifted in some fundamental way. Slowly, Awa reached out and touched one of the larger chunks of concrete that remained. Her fingers brushed against the rough surface, her mind still refusing to fully accept what she had done.
With a deep breath, she gave the piece of concrete a light push.
To her horror—and bewildered amusement—it toppled over the edge of the riverbank, rolling awkwardly down the slope before crashing into the water with a loud splash. She stood there, slack-jawed, watching as the ripples spread out in the river.
No way. Did I seriously just do that with a tap?
The first thought that popped into her head, ridiculous as it was, made her frown. Did I kick a fake one? Maybe it was old, or someone was messing around and put a prop here. It couldn't have been that easy to destroy concrete, could it?
Still doubting herself, she bent down and grabbed a head-sized piece of the broken barrier, her fingers sinking into the jagged edges. It felt solid enough—cold, heavy, real. She gripped it with both hands, her palms pressing into the stone, and squeezed as hard as she could.
The concrete cracked under her fingers. Then, as if it were nothing more than brittle sand, the entire piece crumbled into dust. Awa's hands were soon covered in powder, the solid piece reduced to a pile of gravel in a matter of seconds.
She stared at the remains in disbelief, her heartbeat hammering in her ears. Her hands shook, not from fear, but from the rush of something exhilarating. Something thrilling. Holy crap. Is this really happening?
The more she stared at her hands, the more she felt a strange, giddy energy coursing through her veins. She stood up straight, her mind racing, her eyes darting around the empty riverbank. She had to test this—had to know if this was real or if she was dreaming.
Her gaze landed on a metal light post nearby. Without thinking, she marched over to it, wrapping both hands around the cold, sturdy pole. It was solid, firmly planted in the ground, made to withstand weather, wind, and the elements.
With a deep breath, Awa pulled.
At first, the post groaned in protest, its metal creaking as it bent under her grip. But she kept pulling, her muscles burning with the effort, and before long, the light post gave in. With a loud screech, the metal bent into a sharp 90-degree angle, the top of the post now dangling awkwardly at her side.
Awa let out a breath she didn't even realize she'd been holding, staring at the now-deformed light post like it had just grown legs and started dancing. She blinked at it, then blinked again. "No way..." she muttered, half laughing, half disbelieving. "That actually worked?"
Suddenly, a strange, hysterical laughter bubbled up in her chest. She clamped a hand over her mouth, but the giggles spilled out anyway, unstoppable, wild, and slightly unhinged. She was bending metal. Crumbling concrete. What the hell was going on?
Feeling a surge of manic energy, she turned and set her sights on a row of young trees along the riverbank. "Oh, this is too good," she whispered to herself, rubbing her hands together like some cartoon villain. She strode over to the nearest tree, wrapped her arms around the trunk, and yanked with all her strength.
With a sickening crack, the tree came free from the earth, roots and all, snapping like a twig in her hands. Awa tossed it aside, grinning like a lunatic as it crashed to the ground. "Sorry, nature," she muttered, already eyeing the next tree.
For the next half hour, Awa went on an impromptu rampage, testing her newfound strength on anything and everything she could find. She felled trees like she was in a lumberjack competition, each one crashing to the ground with satisfying thuds. She punched holes through the remaining concrete barrier, sending chunks of it flying. At one point, she even wrapped a metal post into a pretzel shape, just because she could.
The adrenaline coursing through her veins was unlike anything she had ever felt before. It was intoxicating, exhilarating—a heady mix of power and control that made her feel like she could do anything. She was unstoppable, unbreakable, untouchable.
For the first time in days, she felt... free.
But as the initial thrill began to wear off, and the adrenaline slowly faded, Awa finally took a step back and surveyed the damage she had caused.
Her mouth fell open.
The riverbank looked like it had been hit by a natural disaster—or a rampaging giant. Trees were strewn everywhere, some uprooted, some snapped in half. The concrete barrier was in ruins, reduced to rubble, and the light posts... well, they looked like someone had twisted them into bizarre, abstract sculptures, like a pretzel.
Awa blinked at the scene, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly. "Oops," she muttered to herself. "That... might be hard to explain."
The humor of the situation hit her again, and she couldn't help but laugh, though it was more out of disbelief than anything else. She had turned the riverbank into her own personal wrecking ground. It looked like a hurricane had blown through, leaving chaos in its wake.
But this was no hurricane.
This was her.
Suddenly, the realization of what she had done—what she had become—settled in. The excitement faded, replaced by something darker, something heavier.
I can't let anyone know about this, she thought, her heart pounding again. No one can find out.
The last thing she wanted was to be labeled as some kind of freak or experiment. She wasn't weird. This was... this was a gift. She had to think of it that way. A gift from above.
She needed to get out of here. Fast. She turned away from the destruction, her legs moving before she even realized it. She ran along the riverbank, her feet pounding the ground in rhythm with her racing heartbeat. But something felt off. Her speed was... wrong. The scenery around her was blurring, moving past her too fast, like she was running at twice her normal speed.
She glanced down, her eyes widening as she realized just how fast she was moving—faster than she had ever run before, faster than she should have been able to. The wind whipped through her hair, the city lights flashing by like she was in some kind of action movie.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she slowed down, her feet skidding across the ground as she came to a stop. She stared at the river, her breath coming in short gasps, her mind spinning.
I can't let anyone know, she reminded herself again. No one could know she was different. No one could know what she had become.
But as she slowed to a walk, nearing the spot where she had fallen into the river the night before, her heart rate finally began to drop, and the excitement she had felt earlier faded into something else—exhaustion. Deep, bone-weary exhaustion.
The spot where Forrest had dropped her into the water the night before was just upfront. She clenched her fists, her heart heavy as she remembered the cold look in his eyes, the way he had tossed her aside like she was nothing.
She stood at the edge of the riverbank, staring down at the water, her chest heaving. The night had been too much, too overwhelming, and now, with her mind clearer, all that was left was the weight of it all pressing down on her.
Forrest had dropped her like she was trash, and felt a flicker of anger rise inside her. Why did he do that? Why did he act like I was nothing?
Awa clenched her fists, her emotions swirling inside her like a storm.
But then, something else caught her attention. She flexed her left hand, the one she had smashed with the meat hammer just hours earlier. The bandages felt tight, uncomfortable. She glanced down and peeled back the gauze.
Her skin was unbroken. The swelling was gone. Her hand looked perfectly fine, as though it had never been injured at all.
Awa stared at it in disbelief, her breath catching in her throat.
What am I?
And for the first time that night, she realized she might not want to know the answer to all the questions she had.