Black Equation - The Gifted Ones

Number Thirty

“Those who can't sacrifice anything, can't change anything in this world.” – Shingeki no Kyojin

 

 

Number Thirty

 

She could shout. Maybe someone would hear her and realize that a person was buried deep in the debris. Or she could use her power. Make everything around her disappear. Erase the rocks that pinned her leg on the ground. Widen the hole so that she would be visible from outside.

But there was one teeny-tiny problem. Actually, three.

She’s ravenous, dehydrated and extremely thoroughly exhausted.

Breathing took effort. She had to exert herself to keep her eyes wide open. And she was losing the battle. Her eyelids were heavy. She couldn’t fight sleep any longer.

If she closed them now, who knew when she would ever open them again. Worse, she might never get a chance to wake up. So she had to keep fighting. Until the end. . . right?

Abcidee wondered what her father was doing. What Arashi was doing. They would have discovered her disappearance by now. Were they searching for her? Were they worried?

She also wondered about the people from her forgotten past. Krad and Ivan and Rael. Were they safe? Were they one of the agents shouting orders above her? Was it possible that one of them was nearby, and maybe, magically, feel that she’s here, dying?

This was pathetic.

She wanted to laugh. In her head. It was all in her head. Under the great weight of the rock that crushed her leg, she could do nothing but daydream. Simply thinking wouldn’t accomplish anything, but what else could she do? 

No wonder her father wanted her off and away. She’s no good here. Deadweight.

However, a part of her told her otherwise.

She was valuable. Not as a person, but as a symbol. The victory flag.

It did make sense in a way. Creed had been keen on protecting her, keeping her away, while the Light wanted her, not because of her power, but in order to make her father suffer.

Whoever had her was the winner.

She was the prize. The trophy.

Pitiful that she had to see herself in such a harsh, demeaning fashion.

Now that she thought about it, her whole existence had been defined that way. People lied to her, betrayed her, hurt her, and at the same time cared for her, cherished her, loved her. . . because she was Abcidee Faye Creed.

Her whole life had been a cruel game of push and pull.

But what her father and everyone failed to consider was that she was not a mere pawn. That she was not a thing to be tossed around. She had a life, a mind, a heart, and in this ridiculous position she found herself in, in this outrageous battle between Creed and the Light, she was a victim.

Always had been the victim.

Creed and the Light had defined her twenty-one years of existence. Now, they were going to be the cause of its end as well. Pathetic. She couldn’t even get a choice on how and where she would die. The helplessness of it all was depressing. And she hadn’t even truly lived because she was yet to uncover the true her.

She had been many things, but none of them were real. Incomplete. That’s what she was. Incomplete… Broken…. Fake.

In this sleep-like state, Abcidee pondered about the things she had learned. Snippets of her past. A retrospective of her reality. Faces and names of people she once knew.