Pristine's Problem | ONC 2024

09 | invisibility attained, manipulation retained

Alan choked on plain air; his eyes perceived the world to be rotating anti-clockwise as vertigo dominated his body. His breathing heaved even without usage of any potential stamina and his brain temporarily shut down its exhausted services.

Hemant sat appalled; his pupils widened in magnitude. He had trouble analyzing his surroundings and the scene which took place before him, momentarily losing his sentience. Once he regained them, he scurried across the medium-sized room and fetched water for the gagging boy. His mien panicked as flames of trepidation engulfed his rationality while he teetered his way in aiding Alan.

Alan grabbed the glass of water and gulped it vigorously. The water helped in relatively calming his senses and swept away the radiating heat of anxiety. His eyes blinked furiously until they finally stopped discerning double visions.

It took only three words to make Alan's heart stop, and unfortunately, those words weren't 'I love you.'

Hemant observed his client reverting to his original composure with his organs (especially the eyes) gradually finding their respective positions and let out a loud sigh. The episode he had witnessed almost made him theorize that he had killed Alan. Fortunately, fate and luck were hand-in-hand that day.

Hemant made his way back to his recliner and clasped his fingers, placing his firm elbows on the desk. He rested his chin above his knuckles and meekly waited for Alan to initiate conversation.

Alan rubbed his eyes intensely and reached for the glass of water again. He slowly swallowed the remaining contents, along with acceptance of what had happened a few minutes ago and faith that his ears hadn't deceived him at all.

It was clear; he had to give his power to obtain another one. But, was he actually that generous? Was he willing to sacrifice his father's arduous years of hard work for a girl whom he believed unsubstantiated? Will the fall be worth it?

Queries piled up as a deck of cards despite his detest to choose one, because all of them ultimately narrowed down to one question: will you trade your power to protect the girl who supposedly killed your best friend?

"Sir," Hemant's call echoed through his ears as he immediately diverted in his direction.

"I didn't mean to harm you, sir, I simply didn't know this would cause such chaos! Sir, I am deeply sorry for my –"

"It's okay," Alan responded vaguely. He could sense the huge void in his body, which presumably indicated the dearth of energy.

"Sir, let me make one thing clear. Your payment will be your manipulating power, which means you will have to sacrifice your ability only for the duration of your product, am I clear, sir? After one month, you'll get your power back," Hemant comforted, partially on the run to persuade the muddled client faster.

Alan nodded in a solemn manner. It was acceptance he had to intake, not the promotion. He placed his hands on the desk and rested his forehead on them. The darkness submerged his sultry and searing thoughts, rendering a fugitive freedom from the daunting and demanding ambience.

Hemant bridled his urge to pat the young boy's head and give him a proper solace. He had to make things strictly business-oriented, but the benign part of him wanted to give Alan a warm embrace and relieve the emotional trauma he faced.

Alan arose from his self-contemplation and faced the client, his eyes delivered a sense of clarity and alluded a new beginning.

"Hemant," his voice faltered in uneasiness as Hemant's compassionate spectrum dilated in range. Hemant responded with his caring eyes, detaching all commercial motives and replied loudly, "Yes, sir?"