My Diary

I didn't sleep last night.

"How is he?"

"He lost a lot of blood, but he's stable," Rowana answered. "The worst seems to be behind him."

The group breathed a sigh of relief.

Not me. I tried not to think about the floor of the main hall.

The entrance to the crisis room was sealed again. After Aya's outburst last time, Kovun had even fixed the door.

"Can someone please tell me what the hell happened here last night?" Aya burst out.

She'd been invited to the crisis meeting too. Part of the team, part of the crisis.

The group looked at me.

"Reo, can you go through it one more time?" Diona asked.

I nodded and told it again.

Not exactly pleasant, having to keep recounting how you almost got killed the day before.

How I ran. And then only crawled.

How I was on my back when she held the knife above her head.

And how a person was then shot dead on top of me.

Aya listened in silence. She'd already shown empathy when I told her the short version. She'd actually been caring. Somewhat, at least. In her way.

Now she was all Gatekeeper.

"Where did you get the gun?" was her first question.

"I certainly don't protect the prophet with faith alone," Kovun answered.

That answer satisfied no one.

"Left over from my time in the military," he continued slowly, looking at the floor. "I've had it here from the start. Just in case."

Rowana looked at him sternly.

"A firearm," she said. "In a church. Next to a child."

"Next to a child that's still alive," Kovun answered.

"Why did you even have it on you in that moment?!"

"Because it's been getting more dangerous out there lately."

She wanted to press further, but I was faster.

"He saved my life, Rowana."

She pursed her lips and turned her head to the side.

It was quiet for a moment. Then Aya wanted to know what it was.

Not the act, but what was behind it.

"Do you think this will happen again?" she asked.

"Yes," Rowana said. "Yes, we think it will happen again."

"We think it's part of the attack," Kovun added.

"What does this have to do with your God?"

"People are changing," Edda said. "Crime is rising. Random violence. People with no history who suddenly snap."

"We're part of her," Diona said more quietly. "When she's attacked, it seeps through. It changes people."

Aya looked at me. I'd already told her about the flickering. About the distorted images in the eyes. And about the glow behind them that went dark.

"Can it be stopped?" she asked.

Silence.

"If we knew how, we would've tried already," Rowana said.

"The attack is aimed at God herself," Edda explained. "The effects on people are just... symptoms. And we don't fight the symptoms."

"Then what?"

"The cause," Edda said. "We just don't know where it is. Or what it looks like."

"And the people it happens to?" Diona asked. "Can't they be helped?"

"We don't even know what exactly is happening to them," Edda said. "Let alone how to reverse it."

They looked at me.

But I said nothing.

Aya let it sit.

"Okay," she said. "Then let's start with what we can control."

They talked about security. About how Arlo had to stay in the basement under all circumstances.

Aya suggested posting guards and closing off parts of the church. The Station, for example. Kovun agreed. Diona fought back.

At some point I realized I'd stopped listening. My gaze was fixed on a spot on the wall. I don't know for how long.

And the longer they talked, the clearer it became that all they were discussing now was shift schedules and access points. Logistics. Not what had actually happened last night.

But inside me, the questions weren't getting any quieter.

"Can we please stay with what that was?!" I shouted.

"That woman tried to kill me! And not just that — she had a name! Samantha Higgins."

I looked into their eyes, one after another. They could probably see the tears in mine.

"I was still talking to her the day before!" I shouted. "So tell me — what the hell was that?!"

Rowana hesitated.

"If anyone in this room could answer that, Reo, it would have to be you," she said. "You were the only one that close."

Aya looked slightly to the side.

"Maybe Amari has some answers. But we'll have to wait until he wakes up," Edda added.

Diona tried to comfort me.

I dodged the hug and left the room.

A few of them knocked on my door throughout the day.

I didn't open for anyone.

When it got dark, I was still sitting on my bed.

And I could still see the glow in her eyes.

Could I have saved her?

No idea.

But I should have tried.

When I came back from training, it was already dark.

Late at night, the neon is often the only light left in the main hall and the corridors leading off it.

The lights go out, but the neon burns all night.

Just enough to still see something.

The church walls are old, but until this point I'd never associated them with anything creepy. So the neon was enough to find my way.

I wanted to catch a glimpse of the main hall. Of the lost souls who'd been gathering there more and more lately.

And of Amari. The shepherd guarding his flock.

"Shit, you scared me," I cried out as I reached the door to the main hall.

A person was standing in front of the door. Motionless. Their body facing it.

"You know these are private areas, right? Did you not see the sign?"

I could only see her left side, but I already recognized who was standing there.

"Help me," came her strained voice. "I'm losing myself."

I searched for the light switch. In vain.

"We've been through this. God alone isn't going to help you right now."

Where is that damn switch?

"Please," she said quietly.

It has to be here somewhere!

"You need a therapist."

She slowly turned toward me.

Only then, in the dark orange light, did I see the blood smeared across her right side.

Her cheek.

Her clothes.

The dripping red knife in her right hand.

I saw the wild flickering in her eyes. Like a monstrous breakdown of images, shot through with static.

"Who am I?" the tormented woman said.

And the glow behind the glitching images?

"Who am I," she repeated slowly.

The person I'd still seen yesterday?

"Who am—"

She went dark in the exact moment she lunged at me.

The distance between us was maybe seven meters, and I had no idea how to react.

I ran backward and hit a wall.

When the kitchen knife had almost reached my chest, I somehow just barely managed to dodge and only took a cut along the front of my left arm.

I shoved the woman to the side, ran past her, and opened the door to the main hall.

There, in front of the altar, I saw him. The shepherd, lying unconscious on the floor. In a pool of his own blood.

I didn't have much time to take in the scene. It was only two seconds before the woman came through the door behind me.

The way she ran had something animalistic about it.

As if she'd shed her human manners.

A wild animal following nothing but its bloodlust.

I ran as fast as I could, but tripped in the stupid attempt to turn around while running.

Before I could get up, she was already on me.

I was on my back, still trying to crawl away.

But she wouldn't let me escape.

She came closer slowly and sat on top of me.

I tried to fight her off physically, but quickly decided my best chance lay elsewhere.

Now or never, Reo!

She took the knife in both hands.

Your abilities!

And raised it above her head.

NOW!!

For a second she didn't move. She was just frozen.

Even the flickering in her eyes stopped.

Nothing.

In the silence, a shot suddenly rang out.

Kovun stood at the door, holding a pistol.

Its barrel was aimed at us.

Blood sprayed into my face, and I knew he'd killed her when she fell on top of me.

The knife landed beside me.

I don't know how long I lay there like that.

At some point she was pulled off me. I think it was Kovun. I think he said something. But I didn't hear it.

Then others were there. Voices. Footsteps. Someone knelt beside Amari.

The ambulance came. They took him. Someone treated my arm.

A lot more happened that night. But I only remember fragments.

And one question I've been asking myself ever since.

Whether she was still in there. In the moment before the shot.

Whether I could have brought her back.

Or whether I should have done it yesterday.

Today it was Creativity's turn.

Light bending, as Rowana had mentioned before.

"Try to redirect the beam deliberately," she said, after fixing a laser pointer in place and using some smoke to make the beam visible.

That went pretty well.

Next I was supposed to do the same thing, only without the smoke. Meaning without being able to see the beam.

"Not bad," she said, once that worked after a while too.

"And how is this ever going to help me?" I asked. "There's absolutely no practical use in this."

"If you can deliberately manipulate the light from objects, you'll eventually be able to make things appear invisible to others," Rowana replied. "Besides, you're obviously not thinking big enough yet. This is supposed to help with that too."

The exercise sounded a thousand times cooler after that — meaning after the part about invisibility.

I was looking for Amari when I noticed the brown-haired woman again in the prayer hall.

The color was draining from her face. And the flesh on her bones was missing. She was emaciated.

She pressed her fingers together while praying. So tightly that just seeing it hurt.

Amari was nowhere to be seen. I walked over to her.

"May I sit down?" I asked.

No reaction.

I hesitated, then sat down next to her.

"I probably can't help you," I began. "But sometimes it helps a little just to talk."

For a few seconds, nothing came. I watched her lips move and form words.

Then suddenly: "I'm losing myself."

She turned her head toward me.

"And I don't know what to do."

Then I saw it again.

The thing in her eyes.

The reflection in them stuttered.

Suddenly the mirrored image of the world in her eyes shifted, was briefly gone entirely, then popped back out of nowhere.

Like a screen that can't hold a clear picture.

Now I saw it more clearly. Probably because of the proximity.

And behind those glitching images I saw a glow. I saw her in it. The real person behind it. Only for a moment. But clearly enough to feel that I could pull her out of there. That my abilities might be made for this.

And then I thought of Mr. Albert.

And of the blackened clover.

And I did nothing.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked instead.

"Thoughts come over me that aren't mine."

The sentences were clearly difficult for her.

"Feelings that aren't mine."

"Like what, for example?" I pressed, hoping I could help her with words if she'd only open up.

She hesitated. Then she looked at my church robe and pushed through.

"My husband," she said, heavy.

By the next word she was already nearly crying: "Knife."

The glitch in her eyes repeated at regular intervals.

And through the watery eyes I kept seeing her. Behind it all. Trapped.

"Okay, I think I've heard enough," I said quickly. "What's your name?"

"I don't know," the woman answered.

"You don't know your name?"

The woman thought for a moment.

"Sam," she said finally. "Samantha Higgins."

"Sam, I see you here very often. And I respect that you're such a devout person," I began. "But you shouldn't be relying on a miracle alone. You need active help."

She probably knew I was right.

Tears came.

"Can I just sit here for a while longer?"

"Of course," I answered. "If you promise me in return that you'll go see a psychiatrist first thing tomorrow."

Sam nodded as tears slowly dripped from her face.

Her fingers still pressed firmly together.

And I sat next to her.

Five minutes. Ten. Half an hour.

Until Amari came and took over.

"Have you been here before?" I asked Kai as we stood in front of the building.

"A few times," he said. "It's fun and you get to shoot your colleagues."

The AR Combat Arena. You got glasses, a vest with sensors, and were sent onto a course where virtual enemies came at you from every direction.

Kai chose co-op mode.

"Just shoot everything that glows" was pretty much the entire briefing.

The terrain was randomized, but he internalized the whole area within moments. And he moved like it too.

I, on the other hand, got hit twice in the first thirty seconds and ran into an actual wall once.

But at some point I found my groove. Enough to at least contribute something.

Toward the end, it got faster and more chaotic. Kai did his thing. I tried not to get in his way.

Then one got him from the side. Then another. He took out two more — and was finally hit from behind.

ELIMINATED.

"In the real world that wouldn't have happened, boy."

"In the real world you'd have three bullets in your back."

"In the real world nobody gets me from behind."

Afterward, we sat in a small bar around the corner.

"Blowing off steam: check," he said. "And the story behind it?"

I told him about Mr. Albert. The fork. The healing. Diona's lie in front of the Gatekeepers. And the amputation.

Kai didn't say anything for a while. I saw mixed feelings in his eyes.

"How's the old man doing now?" he finally asked.

The fact that I was nearly capable of healing someone, he left without comment.

"The church is paying for the replacement leg. Rowana organized it."

Kai nodded slowly.

"And you?"

"I cost a man his leg because I thought I was further along than I am."

I grabbed my hair with both hands. "How am I ever supposed to look that man in the eye again?"

"By apologizing," Kai said. "And then learning from it. That's all you can do." He took a sip. "And stop hating yourself for it. That's the wrong move."

He must have been thinking about the guy at Glassline. The one with the woman.

"Cases like that are piling up," he said. "Random aggression. People suddenly snapping. No history, no pattern."

He set his glass down.

"In the last two months, the crime rate in Canfield has quadrupled. Quadrupled."

I didn't know what to say.

"That's not normal," he added. "Something's brewing."

"Can anything be done about it?"

He leaned back and thought for a moment.

"No idea, boy," he said, shaking his head. "But next week the new mayoral election for Canfield is happening. Maybe things will finally change."

"I actually picked up on that in passing."

"There are posters on every corner. Ads on every other screen," he said. "You can't not notice."

I gave him a wide smile.

"And who do you think wins?"

"Warren," he said with certainty. "The polls barely leave room for anything else."

"Is that good?"

"Actually a smart man, this Warren. Speaks well." Short pause. "Unfortunately a populist."

"So... bad then?"

"Populist usually means more work for Gatekeepers, less freedom for everyone, and in the end we're the ones cleaning up the mess his promises leave behind."

"And his promise about the crime?"

"Nothing," Kai answered.

"He denies it."

Today was supposed to be Control training. Speed, to be specific.

Kovun threw balls into the air.

The instruction was simple: "Make sure they don't hit the ground."

The training was a complete disaster.

At some point the instruction became, "Make sure something happens before they hit the ground."

And nothing happened. At least nothing measurable, as Kovun likes to call it.

"You look like a broken Rover," he said.

I had an idea what he meant by that.

And he was right: I wasn't back on my feet yet.

"We're done for today."

After training, I went to Amari, thinking he might be able to help.

But Amari was unfortunately swamped.

More and more people have been coming to the church lately.

As if they already had a premonition that things were about to take a turn for the worse.

As for me: I've got the day off tomorrow.

Maybe Kai can cheer me up again.

"You wanted to tell me something?"

I'd texted Aya after I'd healed Mr. Albert's wounds.

Maybe it won't be much longer until I can help you too, was what I'd wanted to tell her.

Even though she didn't talk about it, the thing with her accident wasn't over.

And I know how much it mattered to her.

"Hello? Earth to Reo."

"Nothing. Never mind."

"Sure? You sounded so excited," she pressed.

"Yeah," I answered. "Sure."

Aya nodded. "Okay."

Then we got to training.

"You're so quiet today," she noticed.

And she was right.

My body was there.

But my mind wasn't.

I was in the middle of training with Kovun when Rowana burst in.

"You did what?!" she screamed at me.

Someone must have told her.

I looked at Kovun.

He raised his arms with the message: Wasn't me.

"I know I shouldn't be reckless with my abilities," I answered. "But when am I supposed to use them if not to protect others?"

Honestly, I thought her yelling was over the top.

"This is about more than one dependent's life," she shouted. "And I told you specifically that the biology of living things is extremely complex."

She paused to catch her breath.

"The plant was a test," she held against me. "Not permission to act on your own."

"Please just calm down, Rowana," I defended myself. "It worked, didn't it?"

She furrowed her brow and lowered her voice. Quiet, but serious.

"Worked?" she asked, rhetorical. "Come with me."

I followed her to the Station, where I saw the vessel with the clover.

The closer we got, the clearer the facts became.

"See that?" she said sternly.

On one of the leaves — the one I'd healed — a black growth had spread.

I needed a moment.

But then I understood what that meant for Mr. Albert.

I dropped into the chair next to me.

"And Mr. Albert?" I asked quietly.

"When they scanned his leg again today, they'd already found a large tumor. They decided quickly that the leg needed to be amputated."

The guilt washed over me.

"Mr. Albert is a nice man," she began. "But he's fallen very far. And he doesn't have the means for a replacement leg."

She looked at me. I couldn't hold her gaze.

Her voice softened slightly.

"But the church has some money left over."

My eyes turned to her.

"It was actually meant for some renovations, but well. The old walls are still standing."

I leaned my head back and held back a tear.

"Thank you, Rowana."

She nodded and left the room.

So here I am again.

On the ground floor of reality.

Hello. Ground.