I lay in the bed, my mouth inhaling the fresh air of reality. A faint smile lingered on my lips. My hands finally relaxed, no longer gripping the dagger. The sway of the bed nudged the blade loose, and it fell.
The wisp of air pressed against the steel felt different now. The movement of sound itself became an awareness. When the dagger struck the wood, its force echoed not just in my ears but in the ground beneath the hut. I could sense the creak of wood, the roots tangled below, and even the crawling of insects hidden in the dirt.
How is this possible? My mind strained, then released. The connection slipped away, but what it left behind was clear: a new sight, a new world of information, revealed with nothing but a thought.
I pushed it aside, letting my head rest. I had only just woken from the dream, yet the world around me felt altered. Something about it—about everything—had shifted. I couldn't yet put words to the feeling.
When I stepped outside the hut, the morning sky greeted me. The yellow sun crept slowly into the world, and its beauty pulled a smile from me once more. Birds glided on the wind, their wings catching the light. It was beautiful.
As I walked down the street, I slowed. For some reason, a weight pressed on me, an itch in my mind that refused to fade. It felt like a knot waiting to be undone, an urge that demanded to be tested. I followed it into the main hub of the street and sat on the corner of the stone path, watching. The itch did not pass.
People passed young and old, merchants opening shops, workers beginning their day. I focused on one man. The feeling resisted, locked, until at last something gave way.
I could hear him.
Every word he spoke carried shape and weight, slower to me than his tongue could form. His voice was not just noise; it was muscle, vibration, the sound of breath passing over cords. I pushed deeper, and I heard his muscles stretching like twisted rubber. I heard his blood, rushing fast and slow. And beneath it all...
Thump.Thump.Thump.
His heartbeat.
It was steady, yet quick. Calm, yet laced with excitement. And the strangest part it felt natural. As natural as choosing where to look. My hearing was no longer bound. I could perceive what I desired. This was real.
But how? How could I possess something like this? My thoughts settled on the bat I had killed. Perhaps its essence, its nature, had become mine. A fragment of its power was stolen through death.
If this dreaming world continued to unfold like this, it was less a curse and more a mysterious gift.
Curiosity pressed me to test it. It took time, but I began concluding. The range was limited. What I could hear was bound to what I saw about a hundred feet, sometimes less. The farther the target, the longer it took to focus. A man within arm's reach was clear in seconds, but ten feet away required triple the time. Any further, and the ability dulled into uselessness.
I wondered if I could hear everything at once—not just one sound, but the whole world around me. Closing my eyes, I tried to open myself, to let it in. But the switch never came. Only when my eyes opened did the sense return, flooding me with layers of sound within twenty feet. Too many. My head burned like fire. The weight of it was unbearable. I collapsed, clutching my temples. It was too much.
Sitting back down, I breathed through the pain. Progress, yes, but this ability came at a cost. What good was a gift if I couldn't control it?
"Look who it is," Scar's voice cut through the air, his frame skeletal, deathly pale.
"Yes, I see the bum has come back to our street," Nile sneered at me.
"Let's kill him this time, Nile." Charly spat on the ground, grinning.
Three thugs. Nothing more. Compared to the nightmares I had survived, they were dust. My old fears, my old self, felt laughable now.
I stood. My blade was gone. I wore only ragged pants down to my knees and a loose, short-sleeved shirt. Hunger gnawed at me, but it didn't matter. I felt stronger than them, not because of this power, but because of who I was. My origin. My choice. Win or lose, I decided the outcome.
"Let's get this over with, shit-fuckers!"
"What did you say?!" Nile snarled, face twisting with rage.
"Let's kill this bastard once and for all," Scar hissed, already clutching a pebble, ready to throw.
Charly's massive frame lumbered toward me, his fat and dead muscle shaking with each step. But to me, his movement seemed slow. Not because he was slow—but because I could perceive it. I heard the sway of his body, the strain of his joints. His strike lined up, fist cutting the air toward me.
My heart was calm. My mind, sharp. My hearing, sharpened to a blade.
I could foresee it all.