Chapter 1 - Pushed Back

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Russia

*✲゚*。✧۶*✲゚*。✧



At first, my father wasn't too keen on the idea of the three of us going back.

He suspected that something shady was going on over there, and didn't want us to get involved in it. It was undeniable really, the timing was just too convenient for him to justify. I mean, it was the most important date of my life, maybe even his, and to have it coincide with the day we were invited back was fishy.

But, after many days of asking, pestering, and even a few promises to bring him some things that he had left behind on accident; we were able to gain his permission to go. Along with that, Kazakh Kandante reminded him that a year ago, Kazakhstan had received a letter too. Thus, we wouldn't be totally alone if we were to go.

I'll be honest, it was mostly Ukraine and Belarus's excitement that made me even slightly want to attend this training facility. If it wasn't for those two, I'm positive the more reasonable part of my brain would have won out. I mean, I could have stayed there with my dad and let them go by themselves, yet that felt wrong. I couldn't leave them, not after everything.

Doesn't that same logic apply to dad too, though? Yeah, I guess it's also the difference between a full course meal and wrinkled up weeds for dinner. One sounds much more appealing.

For the past couple of weeks - ever since we received the package really - my siblings have both had an insane amount of energy to get things done. It left me feeling perplexed, and a bit sluggish. They each rambled on about what they hoped they'd return to: the school they left behind, the friends they never got to say goodbye to, and the old house that was the source of countless fond memories. They didn't really care what their powers were about anymore, only the fact that they would have powers in the first place. With them came the ability to be perceived as normal, which was a power in and of itself. They'd each give everything to gain that.

Myself, on the other hand, didn't really want all of my skill training to go to waste. Powers didn't need those skills.

I couldn't help but feel a sense of dread seep deep into my head. Once a person was granted their power, all of the skills, the lessons, even the hardships that they had faced vanished. Instead, the person was replaced with the power. It consumed their entire personality - whether it be for the worse or for the better - at least that's what dad said happened to a couple of his friends.

Longing slithered into my mind, as I looked around my room. At first, it was one thought, but it quickly snowballed into a blizzard of past instances. There were pelts that hung around on the walls, they symbolized every type of animal that I had killed out here. Some were soft, like my deer skin, while others were rough and scaly, like my snake one. The biggest by far was the bear one, which acted as my blanket. I ran my hand over the coffee-colored fur, slowly ruffling through the fine hairs. Then there was the corner table with most of my valuables on it. There were childhood books, little stubs of used up pencils, and my stuffed bear that was well loved; to the point where his fur was flat and the thread that made up his smile was sticking out awkwardly.

My eyes traveled once more, and this time - instead of physical memoirs - they landed on all sorts of different memories that began in this room. They were both good and bad, but they were each unforgettable. They rolled in my mind like a tumbleweed on a flat plain. Some were slow, while others zoomed by in a fraction of a second. Yet, no matter the speed in which the memory passed, I became entranced in each one of them.

There was this one time when Kazakhstan was over and he was playing with the powered heroes that I had brought. I chased him with the red-caped action figure, until the tables got turned and he ran after me with the other one. Their colors were slowly being chipped away, their silver bases beginning to show through.

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