Chapter 8: Fractured Memories and Flickering Light
The lunch bell rang, and the students of Blackridge Academy poured out of the cafeteria, a chaotic tide of noise and laughter filling the air. Kids chatted excitedly about the upcoming break, their footsteps quick and eager as they rushed toward freedom. Jordan Carter, however, was lost in his own turbulent thoughts, moving through the crowd like a ghost.
The bruises still marked his skin, ugly reminders of the fight he and Naomi had barely survived. Each step he took toward the back of the school felt heavier than the last. Naomi's words from the night before echoed relentlessly in his mind, stirring a storm of questions he didn't want to face. He needed answers. He needed truth.
From a distance, Amara and Naomi watched him disappear around a corner. Their expressions were grim, their steps hesitant as they pushed their way through the bustling crowd to follow him. They had spent all morning rehearsing what to say, but nothing could truly prepare them for this.
There was no perfect way to break the truth to someone whose entire life had been stitched together by lies.
"Do you think he'll listen?" Naomi asked quietly, her voice tight with worry.
Amara replied. "He has to," she said. "We don't got time for him to be stubborn."
They caught up to Jordan just as he rounded the last corner, heading toward the abandoned sports shed near the edge of the field. The building had seen better days — its peeling paint and broken windows gave it an eerie, forgotten air.
The door creaked open as Jordan slipped inside. Amara and Naomi hesitated for a moment before following.
The musty scent of old leather, rotting wood, and dust hit them immediately. Broken bats, deflated balls, and rusted equipment cluttered the corners.
"Jordan," Naomi called softly, her voice laced with urgency. "We need to talk. It's about what happened... about your powers."
Jordan froze mid-step, shoulders tensing like a coiled spring. Slowly, he turned to face them, his expression guarded, defensive.
"Is it that time already? Damn," he muttered, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Can you give me five more minutes—or better yet, five more months? Actually... I don't wanna talk about it right now, so please, leave a message after the beep... beep."
Amara rolled her eyes and strode forward, hands on her hips. "Boy, quit actin' like you busy," she snapped. "You need to listen. Naomi's not tryna make things worse. I literally just found out about all this like ten minutes ago. We ain't your enemy, Jordan."
Jordan crossed his arms tightly, scowling. "Help?" he scoffed. "You think I need help? I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask for any of it."
Naomi lowered her gaze for a moment, guilt weighing down her small frame. She understood him—more than he realized. But silence wasn't an option anymore.
"Jordan, I know you didn't ask for this," she said, voice soft but steady. "But you need to understand. Your powers... they're more dangerous than you think."
Jordan's jaw clenched, his fists tightening. "Dangerous?" he repeated bitterly. "Tell me something I don't know." His voice dripped with anger. "Is that supposed to scare me?"
"It's not about scaring you," Amara interrupted sharply, stepping closer, her tone fierce. "It's about you not blowin' up half the damn city! You gotta control it, man. If you don't control what's inside you... it's gonna control you."
The air inside the shed grew thick, almost suffocating. Jordan looked between the two girls, the fire of frustration burning hotter in his chest. He wanted to yell, to storm out—but something in Amara's fierce brown eyes held him in place. She wasn't afraid of him. Neither was Naomi.
And deep down... he didn't want them to be.
"Fine," he grumbled, stomping over to a crate and plopping down heavily. "Let's just get this over with."
Naomi exchanged a quick glance with Amara, who shot back a clear look of Bitch, start talkin'!
The moment had arrived.
Naomi took a steadying breath. "Alright. We need to start with understanding your powers. Your abilities—they're connected, Jordan. To the explosion. To everything that happened twelve years ago. That's why your energy is so unstable. It's not just anger or your strength. It's... something deeper. Something buried."
Naomi bit her lip, stepping closer, speaking more cautiously now.
"There's something more to your powers, Jordan. Something tied to the explosion twelve years ago. My mother and the other shrine mistresses—they've been investigating it for years. They traced it back to Blackridge."
Jordan blinked, frowning deeply. "Wait. You're saying my whole damn life's been part of some... investigation?"
Naomi nodded grimly. "Yes. We've been using a clairvoyant to piece together what happened. She can see backwards in time—but there's a catch. She can only rewind time around people she's physically touched."
Jordan looked even more confused. "And what the hell does that mean for me?"
Amara smirked and jumped in. "Well, to summarize it real quick... a granny with time-vision touched your forehead and poked around in your head."
"Ewwwwwww," Jordan groaned dramatically, making a face. "That's nasty."
"Amara!" Naomi scolded urgently.
"What? I'm not allowed to make jokes?" Amara shrugged, unbothered.
Naomi pressed on, ignoring her. "It means... the shrine mistresses discovered what happened to you during the explosion."
Jordan sat there, stunned. His mind reeled with half-formed thoughts.
Naomi continued, carefully choosing her words. "They didn't find out everything. But they saw enough. Enough to figure out the rest."
"So basically... you're gonna tell me a bunch of guesswork," Jordan said dryly, unease creeping into his voice.
"Jordan, listen," Amara said, unusually serious now. "You need to hear her out. It's important."
Naomi nodded, inhaling deeply. "Twelve years ago, you were just a little boy. You were playing near the edge of the old Starbright Factory—way too close to it. You chased your ball inside... and that's where it all started."
Jordan's brows furrowed.
"My mother found out," Naomi said, her voice thick with tension, "that inside the factory... scientists were experimenting on a woman. But not just any woman—she was made almost entirely of red crystal. They were firing intense beams of energy at her. Hurting her."
"You can't be serious," Jordan muttered, shaking his head.
"You instinctively tried to help," Naomi said, her voice growing softer. "You focused your powers... even though you barely understood them... and you shot a beam of pure white light at the scientists."
Amara whistled lowly. "Lil' man went all superhero mode before he even hit puberty."
Jordan didn't laugh. His heart was hammering too hard in his chest.
"The shock startled one of the scientists," Naomi went on, "and he dropped a vial of dangerous chemicals. It ignited a fire. The whole lab started going up in flames. The woman... the crystal woman... she used the last of her strength to protect you. She shot a beam of light at you, shielding you with a powerful force field."
"And then..." Naomi's voice grew tight. "Then... the reactor exploded. But you didn't die. Somehow, you absorbed a massive amount of energy. More than anyone thought was possible."
Jordan stared at her, wide-eyed. "You mean... I should've died?"
"Most people would've," Naomi said quietly. "But you didn't. The woman's protection and your own powers—combined—they saved you. But it came at a cost."
Amara folded her arms, her voice grim. "Yeah. Like, memory wipe kinda cost."
Jordan rubbed his temples, trying to take it all in. "So you're saying... I saw all that happen... and then just forgot?"
Naomi nodded. "The energy you absorbed messed with your memories. It erased them. When you woke up, you didn't remember the factory, the woman, the fire—none of it. Just... pain."
Jordan felt sick to his stomach.
Naomi lowered her gaze. "Afterward... my mother and the other shrine mistresses decided you shouldn't know. You were too young. Too fragile. They brought you back home, bandaged you up... and told your father everything."
"And forced him to swear a Heavenly Oath," Amara added, her voice unusually serious.
Jordan frowned. "What the hell is a Heavenly Oath?"
Naomi explained softly, "It's a sacred pact. Unbreakable. If he ever told you the truth... there would be consequences."
The shed fell into an oppressive silence.
Jordan's breathing grew shallow, his hands shaking at his sides. Betrayal, confusion, anger—they all swirled inside him, threatening to drown him.
"Why... why didn't anyone tell me?!" he shouted, the force of his voice shaking the walls. A surge of energy exploded from his body—blue and red beams of light bursting out in every direction.
"Jordan!" Naomi cried, shielding her face as a blast whizzed by her.
Without thinking, Amara threw herself forward, grabbing Jordan in a tight hug despite the blasts.
"Yo, chill out, dummy," she muttered fiercely, holding him steady.
Naomi rushed over, wrapping her arms around him from the other side.
"It's going to be okay," Naomi whispered.
"We'll get through this," Amara added, her voice softer now.
"We're here for you," Naomi said again.
Slowly, the light around Jordan dimmed. His ragged breathing eased. The energy receded back into his body, and he collapsed against them, exhausted.
They sat there for a long moment, bruised and battered, but together.
---
Later, after they had patched up their cuts and caught their breath, Naomi turned to Jordan.
"Amara, you told me about what happened to you before, right? About your phasing abilities? How sometimes, it gets too much to handle?"
Amara nodded, rubbing her sore arm.
Naomi's eyes met Jordan's. "You're feeling the same thing. But different. Your power—it's a double-edged sword. Blue for light. Red for shadow. And you're using them at the same time, without even realizing it. You're fighting yourself."
Jordan swallowed hard, the truth heavy in his chest.
"I get it," he said hoarsely. "I'm dangerous. What else is new?"
Naomi didn't flinch. "What we're saying is—we can help you. But you have to trust us."
For a long moment, Jordan said nothing.
Finally, he pushed himself to his feet, clenching his fists. "Alright. Show me what to do."
Naomi smiled gently. "Let's start simple. We'll test your limits."
---
They spent the next hour training inside the shed. Naomi stood a few feet away, her hands glowing with soft spiritual energy, guiding him through each movement.
"Focus on the blue light," Naomi coached. "Channel it outward. Not all at once—controlled."
Jordan gritted his teeth, focusing. Blue light sparked at his fingertips—wild, untamed, but it was there. He pushed it outward. A beam shot across the room, smashing into a crate.
He staggered back, frustrated. "I can't... I can't do it right."
"You're doing great," Naomi encouraged. "Control will come. Trust yourself."
He tried again. This time, the blue light steadied, glowing brighter, stronger.
"Now the red," Naomi said cautiously. "But slowly."
Jordan felt the shadow energy swell within him, colder, heavier. He extended his hand—and a blade of dark crimson energy flickered into existence.
He stared at it, amazed and terrified all at once.
"See?" Amara said proudly. "You a badass and a problem child."
Jordan laughed hoarsely, feeling the tension break slightly.
Before they could continue, though, the shed's door rattled violently. Someone pounded on it with brute force.
They froze.
Standing outside, framed by the afternoon light, was a tall girl with long dark hair and sharp green eyes wearing pink dress with converse's.
"I need to speak with Jordan Carter," she demanded, her voice cold and commanding.
The three exchanged wary glances.
Something was coming.
And none of them were ready.