I've always been a fan of understatements.
Like calling a galaxy-ending hurricane a 'slight breeze', or the blast of a billion stars a 'minor heatwave'. So, when I say "I might be slightly fucked," I want you to grasp the level of understatement we are dealing with here.
See, in a world where seemingly everybody and their grandma has some sort of ability from any of the endless sources of power there are, I, Elexys, am the epitome of extreme rarity, which must be an irony to all the worlds out there where such powers do not exist.
I have no apparent power at all.
Nope, not even the base enhanced physical stats that supposedly everybody has...
I'm just plain human Elexys, who must be 98.8% monké.
It's not exactly an easy life when you're the only thirteen-year-old in the whole damn world who doesn't have a way to defend yourself from the frequent extradimensional shenanigans, alien invasions, stomping kaijus, eldritch fuckeries, demonic cultivators, or the trillion other horrors that could fuck me up at every corner in this wonderful world of ours.
Peers my age should have discovered their own abilities years ago—before they were even born.
But me? Nada. Zip. Zilch.
The orphanage has taken me to doctors, of course, psychics as well, and even that old, creepy, half-eldritch witch who smelled like dead fish and rotten eggs.
Everyone's got the same diagnosis: Monké!
So after that, I just kind of gave up.
And so, today, I woke up this fine Monday morning with the same expectation as always: Nothing.
Waking up on a Monday morning is already akin to voluntarily subjecting yourself to torture, so let's not add to it by having expectations that will surely be crushed.
I groaned, burying my face deeper into my pillow as my alarm clock proceeded to violently hit me with its godforsaken beep-beep-beep!
"Ugh... Shut the fuck up!" I grumbled.
The beeping stopped instantly.
It was only after I lay there for a good few seconds of silence that I processed what had just happened. Lifting my head, I peeked one eye open at the digital clock on the bedside table to make sure I wasn't hallucinating from lack of sleep.
Nope, the relentless little torture device had definitely shut up without my hand smacking the sound out of it.
Huh, weird.
I continued to lie there for a minute or two in an unusual silence, careful not to go right back up to sleep as I had done already in the 68th time that I had been late this school year, or so the guidance counselor had reminded me so kindly yesterday. Well, if no miracle happened, today would probably be the 69th.
I forced my eyes open, staring at the ceiling of my tiny little room, barely large enough to fit a small kiddie-size bed, in which I, even with my slightly malnourished stature, could barely fit.
To the side was a small desk that could only accommodate the small round digital clock so graciously provided by the guidance counselor who threw it at me one too many late mornings, and the old laptop the school gave me so I could do homework, which I mostly use instead to surf the net, of course.
Overall, the room is about the size of a car, maybe even smaller.
Even though it was only around six in the morning, intense sunlight was beaming through the small bedside window above the desk, heating the whole room like a fricking oven. So hot in fact, that sweat was already dripping down my balls.
"I wish it would at least rain today..." I longingly mumbled to myself as I wiped away the sweat from my forehead with my pillow.
Then, suddenly, the sun's rays disappeared, the room plunged into darkness as dark clouds covered the sky, and I heard the most beautiful sound I'd heard in weeks: rain pattering against the window.
Huh, would you look at that...
It started raining.
What a coincidence.
At least that's what I thought at the time.
Seeing that it was no longer too hot to even move, I eventually mustered the strength and put on my taped-up glasses from the table and sluggishly dragged myself out of bed in that feverish dehydrated half-woken way that a room as hot as an oven usually gives.
I stumbled to the room's tiny, 4-by-4-foot personal bathroom, built for efficiency, with a tilted tiled floor, a drain in the corner, and a shower head right above the toilet bowl so I could shower while taking a shit, maybe even brush my teeth while at it if I feel particularly efficient.
Although it isn't much, it was a nice thing to have, as I definitely don't want to mingle with my fellow orphans in a public bathing room, lest they accidentally burn or snap off my 'Jormungandr' when they goof off and horse around with their enhanced strength and projectile plasmas as kids do.
My reflection in the vanity mirror behind the sliding door was its usual charming self: messy brown, too-long a hair that looked like strands of wet shit sticking out in all directions that made me look like a bum. I have dark circles under my light brown eyes, which some said looked like amber or the light around a black hole, but to me, they looked more like two drops of dried dog shit.
In short, I have the general aura of 'I look like shit, and I feel like shit.'
So I reached for my toothbrush on top of the toilet bowl tank to wake myself up with the bubbly, cool, minty paste that stings the shit out of my tastebuds, and as I did—it floated right into my hand.
I blinked. Then blinked again. The toothbrush was just... there, in my hand, like it had obeyed some unspoken command.
Huh, isn't this just funfuckintastic?
I'm officially losing it!
But even the threat of mental degradation didn't hinder the wretched fact that my body had moved on its own, proceeding as it always did, through the motions of my daily routine as I brushed my teeth, took a shit, showered a bit, and donned my school uniform.
Before I even knew it, I had dragged myself to the dining area, eating my daily ration of a floppy slice of untoasted bread straight from the plastic pack and gulping down a cup of orange juice that was not at all made from real oranges but cheap artificial sweeteners and 'natural flavors'.
I'll probably be late again since I'm the only one who doesn't have a way to travel faster than my monké legs could get me, so I jogged, or rather, dashed for the bus stop as rain pattered calmly against the pavement, the roadside tree leaves, and the clear plastic raincoat the orphanage had kindly provided.
It felt like the peaceful ambiance was mocking me though, dashing out of breath as oxygen struggled to reach my sleep-deprived brain while the rain poured on my glasses at an angle that seemed deliberately aimed, blocking my sight.
But it was at this moment when it hit me.
No, not Truck-kun, although the thought did come more than once, but no, rather it was the very subtle sensation that something was very off.
Reality feels a little strange, like that time I hadn't slept for more than three days after first discovering the wonder world of xianxia novels; everything started looking wobbly, yet at the same time, seemed more focused as the brain abandoned all other functions except thoughts.
I started crossing the intersection, but then I saw the crossing lights had turned orange, so...
"Don't you dare turn red," I threatened it in a seemingly futile effort.
Unbelievably, it stayed amber for an unusually long duration until I crossed. 'Maybe another coincidence?' I thought, even though the Universe wasn't usually that kind to me.
I continued to run on the sidewalk with my heavy bag full of books bouncing up and down, hitting my back and straining my shoulders as sweat poured out of every pore, even in the cool rain.
Soon, I arrived at the bus stop a little over half a mile away, which I dashed to in a little less than five minutes. The bus was about to leave me behind, so I quickly jumped aboard before it fully closed its doors, breathing heavily as I tapped my student ID card and sat by the back of the driver while the bus was already moving.
I closed my eyes as my mind once again started going blank, fighting against the urge fueled by severe sleep deprivation to just collapse there. The bus's AC helped my sweat evaporate, and I slowly recovered, shaking off the lightheadedness.
Most of the occupants are students like me and are the same as anywhere else I saw them: noses buried in their neural implant's connected to their brains showing holographics only they could hear or see, friends having a conversation about some random shit they find in the net, some fidgeting with their abilities like that guy twirling balls of marble-size plasma around, and one or two absentmindedly staring at the window daydreaming about becoming someone great or maybe their heads were just empty as mine was.
In any case, I ignored them as usual and pulled out a book from my bag, a rather interesting light novel about a guy getting reincarnated as a goblin's dih. But before I could vividly hallucinate while staring at some marked processed wood, I experienced something strange yet again—the old bus driver was glaring at an orange light that stubbornly refused to turn green; it seemed broken.
"C'mon, you piece of junk," he grumbled. "Why won't they replace this old piece of shite yet? It's been going on for days!"
I glanced at the light, also feeling annoyed as this bus would barely get me there in time to begin with. I want to do something about it, not that I could, of course. But then, as soon as the thought crossed my mind, the light turned green.
Okay, this was definitely something else. I leaned back in my seat, trying to piece things together as the old bus driver grumbled something about finally getting a break and drove on.
As I entered the school, I was reminded that the dreaded math test was today from my classmates' discussion of it, and I had not studied for it at all, for I am the great-grand ancestor of the Dao of Procrastination. Yeah, shit indeed.
So, as I do in all tests, I inwardly wish 'If only the fire alarm would ring,' half-joking. But then, as if on cue...
The shrill sound of the fire alarm filled the air.
Yeah... this shit is getting real weird.
The rest of the day went on like this: I'd think something if this thing happened, and then it would happen.
Like the time I was hungry, as usual, during snack break, since the orphanage didn't give me money to buy snacks in the cafeteria or even pack me a single crumb of bread, much less a sandwich, and I found the cafeteria handing out some nearly-expired sandwiches from the other day's batch.
Or earlier, when I wished for a distraction to fart during class, the power went off, startling everybody and their ability, causing sounds loud enough to cover the leak of the deadly air.
Coincidences?
I think not!
So, during lunch, I decided to test my sanity. Sitting at my usual table in the very corner that no one sits in but me and whoever is brave enough to be near me, I eyed my unopened soda can on the table in front of me. And with a dramatic flick of my fingers, I declare quietly, "Open sesame!"
The can pops open with a satisfying hiss.
This causes one of the only few NPCs in this school I know the name of, Eric, sitting in a seat to the right across from me, to look up from his half-eaten sandwich.
"Did you just...?"
"Yeah," I said, trying to sound nonchalant. "Pretty cool, right?"
He stared at me, then at the can, then back at me. "You finally have a Codex?"
"Oh, yes, I have indeed awakened... to unlimited POWAH!," I said, laughing rather sinisterly while wiggling my fingers mysteriously as if lightning could come out of them at any moment.
"Yeah, right," Eric rolled his eyes, not at all getting the reference, also wriggling his finger as real lightning flashed through them. "Bruh, I can literally manipulate the entire electromagnetic force..."
"Doesn't help you 'pull' any bitches tho'," I said, shaking my head at his lack of rizz.
"A bit shocking, eh?" He said wittily, "But it's not like you're any better off either, you soulless maniac."
"Hahaha, you should ask your mother," I laughed, while inside I cringed a little.
Soulless.
A wicked nickname, if I could say so myself. It comes from the fact that in this world, all souls have some sort of intrinsic ability, no matter how weak or minuscule the soul may be; I mean, even animals and insects have them, and apparently, my having none at all seems to imply as such.
Still, the nickname was quite useful against would-be bullies, so I didn't exactly deny it either, I even threatened a few kids that I would take theirs and eat it, hehehe...
But that no longer matters. Now that I had confirmed it, my head could only buzz with excitement. Maybe I wasn't going crazy after all. Maybe the impossible is possible. Maybe I'm not asleep nor dead, dreaming...
Maybe I really do have a special ability.