Chapter 7: Awakening

  Gabriel was running again. Not through guild halls or war-torn streets, but through an endless stream of memories.

  The professor's lab had always been cold, its walls lined with glass canisters filled with substances he never cared to understand.

  Gabriel had rarely ever been in the professor's lab, at least not long enough to retain curiosity about his guardian's work.

  The professor always chased them away when they got too close to the lab—especially while he worked.

  At all other times, the lab remained tightly sealed.

  The professor spent hours there, sometimes even days, but Gabriel and his siblings hadn't known life any other way.

  At least until Gabriel had turned eleven, and began to spontaneously vanish right out of thin air.

  From the moment his ability manifested, his daily routine had changed. No more carefree afternoons outside the orphanage. No more chores or time on the swing.

  Brooms and tablecloths were replaced by syringes and sensors. The professor would call Gabriel into his lab more frequently now. They would chat while the professor drew his blood and recorded his vitals.

  It was strange, but Gabriel quickly grew accustomed to being in his guardian's presence daily. At some point, he had even begun to look forward to it.

  He never got to see the Professor so often.

  But it quickly grew tiring. It just never ended. The older he got, the more intense his abilities became, turning his daily tests into more complicated routines.

  Gabriel never questioned why. Why, unlike other kids, he could vanish– more like cease to exist. Why, when he tried hard enough, no one could see him, or find him– excluding the professor.

  He always knew where to find him.

  But the tests were only getting more and more demanding, and even more exhausting.

  Gabriel spent entire days strapped to machines, sometimes entirely unconscious.

  Then one day, she arrived.

  Miss Amadala. She had fiery red hair and dark eyes. She was young at heart and incredibly fierce. The staple definition of a Hero– but politics offered her a better chance at saving the world than being a rank B hero ever could.

  Gabriel could recall how she looked at him on that first day. Her eyes were wide with curiosity but also laced with concern.

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  She had argued with the professor, her voice sharp and scrutinous. Gabriel couldn't remember the exact words, but he remembered the outcome. She had taken him away. Away from the lab. Away from the professor's watchful gaze, and away from his family, handing him over to the military.

  Gabriel could recall the professor's gaze as he left. Stale and devoid of emotion. His glasses shimmered in the dim light of his lab. But suddenly the lab was gone, whisked away by violent red flames.

  Gabriel gasped, the world around him burning. The room had transformed into a blazing inferno. Smoke filled his lungs, and the heat seared his skin. Yet, the professor remained the same—standing in the centre of the chaos, untouched, his glasses gleaming.

  Gabriel stared at him, his lips quivering as he worded lifelessly. "Where were you?" Before drawing his last breath.

  ***

  "Hhk!"

  Gabriel gasped as his eyes snapped open.

  His vision was blurred, but he could tell something was terribly wrong. How long had he been asleep?

  He wasn't even lying on a bed or something so casual. No– he was floating.

  Warm liquid surrounded him, pressing against his body from all sides. A mask covered his nose and mouth, feeding him sterile oxygen. His mind was hazy, struggling to grasp his situation. Beyond the curved glass of the chamber, the world outside was distorted, a mix of shadows and flickering lights.

  He was in an incubator of sorts, and Gabriel's heart pounded upon realization.

  Why? How? He reached out, his hands pressing against the glass.

  "Huh?"

  His arms—they looked smaller. His fingers were frail and definitely different from what he could recall.

  Panic surged through him. His breath quickened. With all the strength, he could muster, Gabriel struck the glass panel with his fist– nothing. So he struck it again and again and some more after that.

  He had always hated tight spaces, So he kept bashing his fist against the glass until—cracks finally spider-webbed across the surface.

  One more hit and the incubator shattered. Glass and red liquid flying all over the place. The incubator itself came apart, its bolts and parts tearing through the air.

  Gabriel fell forward, coughing as he hit the cold, metal floor. His body felt strange, lighter, and unbalanced. He pushed himself up, gasping for air.

  His surroundings were compact, reinforced with thick steel doors, and stuffed with equipment. There were canisters piled on canisters, cages and cardboard boxes lying about.

  Where am I?

  Gabriel wondered as he took a good look around.

  The ceiling was low and the walls were not far apart. Was he in a crate of sorts?

  It wasn't long before he caught sight of a canister knocked over and pierced at the side from the chaos of his escape.

  Something dripped out of it, black and oozing.

  The stench was horrid like something had died in it.

  That wasn't the only thing he could smell, though.

  Alcohol?

  Just then, something small and hairy caught his attention, scurrying by the crates' metal doors.

  A rat, white with beady red eyes, and it wasn't alone. Like a rash, they had suddenly begun to appear, skittering all over the place. Some chewed on electrical ware while others rummaged through the pile of cartoon boxes stacked at the back.

  He must have accidentally released them upon his escape.

  Gabriel watched them for a while as he tried to piece things together. But unfortunately, his mind and memories were terribly foggy.

  All he could do for now was figure out a way out of here.

  He tried bursting out of the crate as he had done with the incubator, but unfortunately, all that did was leave fist imprints on the metal door.

  He had already given up hope when he watched one of the lab rats waltz over to the black goo from earlier.

  Gabriel's face curled in disgust as he watched the rodent bury its snout in it.

  He was already pulling his face away when he watched the rat suddenly pause.

  Its beady eyes stared off into the distance.

  Then suddenly the rat let out a shrill shriek like it had gone mad.

  It screamed as its bones popped and turned in all the wrong directions.

  Its white fur was now stained black as it tossed about in the black goo. Then all of a sudden, the rat paused, before rolling back onto its four little feet.

  Something seemed different, though. The rat's eyes were still beady but now completely black.

  Then, like it had dropped all pretence, the rat stood on its hind legs. Black hollow eyes now locked onto Gabriel's, its gaze unnatural—unblinking, knowing.