Mori Kiyoshi paced the small kitchen, his fingers tracing the countertop as he tried to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside him. The shadows of his recent encounter with Eri Okada loomed large in his mind, each echo of her words amplifying the dread settling in his stomach. The Architects are always watching. He couldn't shake the feeling that eyes were trained on him, waiting for a moment of weakness. He needed answers, and the only person who could provide them was his grandmother.
The old clock on the wall ticked loudly in the silence, each second a reminder of the impending confrontation. His grandmother was seated at the table, her hands cradling a steaming cup of tea. The scent of chamomile filled the air, soothing yet stark against the tension hanging over them like a thick fog.
"Mori, you're pacing again," she said, her voice soft yet firm, eyes filled with concern. "You're making me anxious."
He stopped abruptly, the words caught in his throat. It felt as if he was standing on the precipice of a chasm, unsure of whether to leap or turn back. "Grandma, I need to talk to you about Mom," he said finally, forcing the words out.
Her expression shifted, a flicker of apprehension crossing her face. "I... I thought you weren't ready for that conversation."
"I'm not ready," he admitted, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "But I need to know the truth. I can't keep living in the dark, not after everything that's happened."
She set her cup down slowly, her fingers lingering on the rim as if drawing strength from the porcelain. "Mori, your mother's past is complicated. It's not something I can explain easily."
"I don't care! I need to understand!" he almost shouted, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation. "I keep feeling these glitches, and Eri... she knows about my powers. I can't handle this anymore without knowing what it means!"
His grandmother sighed heavily, her gaze drifting to the window where the sun cast long shadows across the kitchen. "It's not just about you, Mori. It's about your mother and what happened to her. She... she was different."
"Different how?" Mori pressed, his heart racing. "What did she do?"
A long silence settled between them, heavy with unspoken words. Finally, she looked at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Your mother was a powerful reality manipulator. She could bend the fabric of existence with her will."
Mori's breath hitched in his throat. Reality manipulator. The words echoed in his mind, each syllable a jarring reminder of the chaos in his life. "But why didn't you tell me?" he asked, his voice cracking. "Why didn't you warn me?"
"It was for your protection," she said, her voice breaking. "The world is dangerous for people like us, Mori. After your mother vanished, I wanted to shield you from the same fate."
Anger flared within him, hot and uncontrollable. "So you kept me in the dark? You thought it was better for me to live a lie?"
"It wasn't a lie!" she retorted, her voice rising in pitch. "It was survival! Your mother's abilities made her a target. The Architects... they don't take kindly to those who disrupt their order."
"Is that why she disappeared?" Mori's voice was barely above a whisper, fear creeping back into his mind. "Because of the Architects?"
"Yes," she admitted, her expression pained. "She tried to protect you from them. But in doing so, she drew their attention. I lost her, and I couldn't bear to lose you too."
The revelation hit him like a punch to the gut. His mother had tried to protect him, but it had cost her everything. He felt a swell of conflicting emotions—anger, sorrow, confusion. Why didn't she come back? Was she still alive?
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Science Fiction------------------- Reality It's a funny thing, isn't it? Something so concrete and yet so fluid, so tangible and yet so malleable. I know this better than most. Why? Because I have the power to control alternate realities. ------------------- Mori...
