THE AWAKENING WITHIN
Power is not given.
It awakens.
Episode 2 — The Observer
Written by
Roviel (Testimony Aigbe)
1st April 2024
7:00 PM
The outskirts of Manchester were unusually quiet.
Streetlights flickered on one by one as the evening sky dimmed into a deep grey-blue. Rows of suburban houses stretched along the road like silent sentinels, their warm window lights glowing faintly against the growing dark.
A young girl walked down the pavement with effortless confidence, hands tucked into her hoodie pockets, head nodding slightly to whatever rhythm pulsed through her AirPods.
To anyone passing by she looked like an ordinary teenager heading home after school.
But ordinary was the last word that could describe her life.
Jessica's POV
Just another casual spy day.
Let me introduce myself.
My name is Jessica Robbins.
Daughter of Jack Robbins — the beloved mayor of Manchester.
Or at least…
That's what the public believes.
Most people see my father on television giving speeches, shaking hands, smiling for cameras.
They never see the other side.
The late-night encrypted calls.
The men in suits who arrive without warning and leave without names.
The security locks hidden behind ordinary doors.
Behind the politics my father works for something else entirely.
Something hidden.
Something powerful.
An organisation known only as The Directorate.
And unfortunately for me…
Being his daughter meant I didn't exactly get to live a normal life.
I kick a loose pebble down the pavement, watching it bounce off the curb.
Normal… yeah right.
My life stopped being normal the moment I turned thirteen.
That was the day my father told me the truth.
Or at least…
The version of it he was willing to share.
The Missing Piece
I had a sister once.
Her name was Emily.
Two years older than me.
Bright. Competitive. Annoyingly perfect.
If you ask my parents where she is today they'll say she's in a coma.
That's the official story.
The one they've repeated so many times it almost sounds rehearsed.
But here's the thing about comas.
People in comas still exist somewhere.
Hospitals.
Rooms.
Machines that beep softly in the background.
You can visit them.
You can sit beside their bed.
You can hold their hand.
I haven't seen Emily in five years.
No hospital.
No address.
No doctor updates.
Nothing.
Just silence.
And the longer that silence stretches…
The more certain I become that the story was never true.
The Recruitment
On my thirteenth birthday my father finally told me what our family was really part of.
He told me the world wasn't as simple as it looked.
That certain people were different.
People capable of things that shouldn't be possible.
And that the Directorate existed to find those people.
Monitor them.
Control them.
And sometimes…
Contain them.
Then he gave me a choice.
Join.
Or pretend none of it existed.
I didn't hesitate.
Two months later I disappeared for training.
No phone.
No friends.
No outside contact.
Just drills.
Observation exercises.
Psychological conditioning.
Two months of learning how to watch people without them noticing.
Two months of learning how to read faces.
Body language.
Tiny shifts in breathing.
Micro-expressions that reveal more than words ever do.
By the time summer ended I wasn't just Jessica Robbins anymore.
I was a Directorate Observer.
A junior field agent.
One rank below my father.
And then I came back to school.
And waited.
For a whole year.
Nothing.
No assignments.
No operations.
Just pretending to be a normal Year 8 student.
Present
I stop in front of the familiar brick house.
271.
My eyes linger on the number plate for a moment.
Not because it's home.
Because of the rule.
Two plus seven plus one.
Ten.
Every Directorate operative lives somewhere whose house number adds up to ten.
A strange little pattern the organization loves hiding in plain sight.
To everyone else it means nothing.
To us it means:
You belong to the system.
I unlock the door and step inside.
Silence greets me.
Dad's still working.
Of course.
I drop my bag by the stairs and head up to my room.
Jacket off.
Shoes off.
I collapse onto my bed and stare at the ceiling.
"A whole year…" I mutter quietly.
"A whole year since training and not a single mission."
What exactly was the point?
Almost like the universe decides to answer me—
My bracelet vibrates.
Once.
Twice.
My body reacts before my brain does.
I sit upright instantly.
A faint blue light spreads slowly across the band wrapped around my wrist.
My heart does something it hasn't done in a long time.
It actually jumps.
Because in one full year…
This bracelet has never activated.
Not once.
A small holographic interface flickers to life above it.
Three words appear.
DIRECTORATE PRIORITY ALERT
My fingers move quickly.
I open the file.
CONFIDENTIAL — DIRECTORATE REPORT
Awakening Probability Detected
Location: Manchester
Status: Early Phase — Unstable
Observer Assignment: Required
I scroll down slowly.
Then the subject profile loads.
A school photograph appears.
Dark curly hair.
Round glasses.
A quiet expression that almost hides how sharp her eyes actually are.
The name below the picture reads:
SARAH SMITH
My eyebrows lift slightly.
Well… that's interesting.
I know that face.
She sits two rows ahead of me in maths.
Quiet girl.
Always reading.
Always answering questions before anyone else.
Teachers love her.
Students ignore her.
Except me.
I lean back against the headboard.
A small smile forms at the corner of my mouth.
So that's why she reacts the way she does.
Because yeah…
I pick on her.
A lot.
Nothing serious.
Just little pushes.
Sarcastic comments.
The occasional notebook knock.
I always told myself it was boredom.
But now…
Now it makes perfect sense.
The Directorate trains observers to provoke reactions.
Stress reveals instability.
Instability reveals awakening.
And Sarah?
Sarah always reacts just a little differently.
Her fingers twitch when she's angry.
Her glasses shift slightly when she tightens her jaw.
And sometimes…
Very small things around her desk move.
Barely noticeable.
Unless you're trained to see it.
My smile widens slightly.
"So," I whisper quietly.
"This is why they trained me."
Directorate Monitoring Facility
Location: Classified
Inside a dim command center lit only by the glow of blue monitors, two analysts study the same report.
One glances toward the senior operative behind them.
"Awakening probability is rising."
The operative folds his arms slowly.
"Phase?"
"Early manifestation. Unstable."
The operative studies the image on the screen.
Sarah Smith.
Quiet.
Unaware.
Perfect candidate.
He nods once.
"Continue observation."
Then he adds calmly:
"If the subject reaches full awakening…"
His voice doesn't change.
But the meaning behind the words does.
"…initiate containment."
Back to Jessica
Jessica closes the holographic report.
Removes her AirPods.
Sets them quietly on the nightstand.
The room falls silent.
But it's not the same silence as before.
This one feels heavier.
Like the air itself is waiting.
Tomorrow she'll walk into St John's Secondary exactly like she always does.
Same uniform.
Same bored expression.
Same casual bullying routine.
But underneath it…
Everything has changed.
She has a mission now.
Observe.
Evaluate.
Report.
Her eyes drift back to the fading image of Sarah's photograph.
Curly hair.
Glasses.
Two rows ahead in maths.
Jessica's fingers tap lightly against the mattress.
This should be interesting.
Across the city…
Sarah Smith has no idea that a classified file with her name just opened inside the Directorate.
She has no idea that the girl who occasionally shoves her books in the hallway is now watching her for entirely different reasons.
She has no idea that the moment her power truly awakens…
The Directorate will already be there.
Waiting.
To Be Continued…aqa qa1