Hearing the sobs of people made me feel conflicted. Some of these people I was friends with, or at least I knew them. But in this moment I didn't want to look for faces, because if I saw them broken, I might just lose the hope that I currently held.
And at that moment, something in the back of my head changed, like a lightning shock that ran through my body. And the realization hit me.
'What?... Switch?'
The subtle green glow of the dormitory walls faded, replaced by a profound, consuming darkness. The sterile silver of Argent was gone. One moment I was on my cot, the next I was on my knees on cold, gritty stone.
The cold hit me like a truck, a deep chill went inside my lungs with the first gasp. I started to shiver violently, my hands gripped at my own arms, desperate for warmth that wasn't there. My whole body tensed against the sudden, brutal change.
And I could only think about one thing, the echo of that lightning shock realization.
'I can switch the location of two things? That's it?! How am I supposed to change the world with that?!'
A wave of pure, impotent rage washed over me, hotter than the fear. This was the grand reward for twenty years of hard work? To be able to keep moving things around?
The universe wasn't just cruel, it was a comedian.
The sobs around me weren't distant echoes from a dorm anymore. They were here, in this dark, freezing space. Raw, scared, close. I couldn't see anyone, but I could feel the terror in the air, thick as liquid silver.
Then, two points of light appeared at the distance. A familiar, warm green.
The barrier's color. Home. A collective sigh moved through the group. We got blind hope, a promise of safety here in the outside. I saw many pick themselves up and start scrambling towards there.
From somewhere in the tight crowd, a low, weary voice muttered, "First cycle…" The words were nearly lost in the shuffle of feet and ragged breathing.
But before I could think of the implications…
A whoosh and a wave of dry heat erupted to my left. Sudden flame illuminated us for a second. I saw Ember, the furnace tender from the recycling plant, holding a torrent of fire that shot from her fist, her face, a mask of pure panic. The light flashed over the nearby walls of stone, and the stunned, pale faces of others.
Kira, hugging herself, Darien, trying to shout orders, Mira, already holding a shard of condensed light like a blade.
They got weapons. I got a instruction manual for a talent I already had.
"Put it out!" someone screamed.
"I can't!" Ember sobbed. The fire lashed toward the ceiling.
In that chaotic, flickering light, a calculation cut through my rage. It wasn't about what I couldn't do. It was about what I could. The fire was just energy in a place. The air here was cold and damp.
My mind started to hiss, I felt like my brain was producing white noise, I felt energy coming from within me. Then, the strain of moving a small crate, but on my mind, not my muscles. I focused on the superheated air around Ember's fist and the damp air I felt in my hand.
I willed them to switch.
No explosion. Just a violent hiss.
The roaring flame around Ember's hand vanished. And the air around my hand got really hot for a moment.
Silence, deeper and more profound than before.
"What… What happened?" Ember whispered into the sudden dark, her voice trembling with relief.
I was about to answer, but I didn't. Nor did anyone else.
I felt some kind of energy drain from inside me. But the cold fury in my mind turned into something clear.
Switch wasn't a weapon. It was sabotage. A way to cheat the rules of where things belonged. I couldn't fight the darkness. But maybe I could rearrange it.
The green lights ahead were a trap. I knew it. Running towards hope in the outside would always be a mistake, you need to keep your mind cold and analyze, think clearly. That's the first rule to survive.
I took a slow, breath of damp air, letting the cold burn its way down my throat and freeze the panic growing in my chest. The initial sobs had morphed into confused babble, abilities, lights, fear, despair.
Around me, the proof of the System's cruel joke manifested.
I saw Kim, who'd sorted scrap metal in the recycling plant, her hands now sheathed in rust colored gauntlets of energy. She stared at them, weeping.
Aylin, a courier who'd run messages across Argent's sectors, flickered in place, a phantom image lagging behind him, a power for speed, but he stood frozen in terror.
I saw a gardener make a frantic pulling motion, and thorny vines erupted from the stone at his feet, only to immediately wither and die in the barren cave.
They were literal manifestations of our wasted lives.
Some, like Ember and Mira, had gotten weapons. Most had gotten pointless tricks or burdens.
And for a second, I had seen my power in that light, the ultimate utility skill, perfect for a lifetime of moving things from Point A to Point B. But then I looked at the false green lights, and at the panicked herd moving toward them.
They had received tools for a fight. I had received a tool for something else entirely. For changing the fight. Maybe the universe wasn't just a comedian. Maybe it was an ironist.
I finally moved. Not toward the green light. I turned my back on them, facing the deeper darkness of the outside. I took a step, not following the herd, but toward the faint sound of Kira's sniffling.
They ran toward the light. I understood, with cold clarity, that the light was the mouth of the beast.
Survival, if it existed, was a path carved through the darkness.