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I don’t remember…
“Ironic isn’t it? A person that can see memories in flash from others, but I can’t remember my own…”
“I suppose there is a reason for that, but no reason to dwell on it.”
“This is my story from what I have gathered from files and others, believe what you will or don’t believe it, doesn’t matter to me.”
****
The playground smelled like hot pavement and fresh-cut grass. The Louisiana sun hung high in the sky, casting long shadows as Kiara kicked at the dirt beneath the swing set.
She liked this park. The swings didn’t creak too much, and the trees were tall enough to block out some of the heat.
Her mother, Amelia, sat on a nearby bench, pretending to read a book, but Kiara knew better. Mama always listened, even when she wasn’t looking.
Her father, Julien, stood by the fence, chatting with another parent. He laughed, loud and deep, and Kiara smiled to herself. Her Daddy always had the kind of laugh that made people join in, even if they didn’t know the joke.
It was a normal day.
Until he showed up…Brandon.
He was older, bigger, meaner. Kiara didn’t like him, but she never said anything. She knew better than to talk back.
Brandon stomped over, his shadow stretching over the dusty ground. “What’re you doin’ here, dirtface?”
Kiara didn’t answer, ignoring his overwhelming presence as best she could.
Brandon’s lips curled. “You’re weird and ugly, you know that?”
Still, she said nothing. Her mother always told her to ignore kids like him. But ignoring never made them go away.
Brandon shoved the swing.
Kiara jolted forward, gripping the chains tight to keep herself from falling.
Laughter. Brandon leaned closer. “Why don’t you talk?” His voice dropped lower, meaner. “Scared?”
Kiara clenched her hands around the metal chains. She wouldn’t cry. Not in front of him. Kiara blinked, confused, until she saw her mother standing behind Brandon, arms crossed, eyes sharp.
Brandon froze.
Mama didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to.
Brandon muttered something under his breath and backed away, disappearing into the crowd of kids.
Kiara looked up at her mother, heart still pounding.
Mama knelt down, brushing her fingers through Kiara’s curls. “You okay, baby?”
Kiara nodded.
Mama smiled. Soft, but knowing.
“Good,” she said, pressing a kiss to Kiara’s forehead. “Let’s go home.”
****
A few weeks later, Kiara sat quietly in her room, her small hands clenched tightly in her lap as she stared out the window at the street below. The laughter of other children echoed in the distance, but it only made her feel more alone. The teasing had started early this year, sharper, meaner, but after the encounter in the park with Brandon, it quickly got worse tenfold. She hated the way her freckles stood out against her dark brown skin, how each one felt like a marker for all the things that made her different. The other kids noticed and didn’t hesitate to remind her every day.
Today had been particularly cruel. The whispers and names cut deeper than usual, “Mud Face!” “Doodoo Face!” Kiara wanted to cry, but she fought it back, pressing her hands to her eyes and unintentionally trying to wipe away the freckles she hated more than the kids that teased her. She just couldn’t seem to make it stop, no matter how hard she tried to ignore it.
Amelia held her close, her voice calm and warm as she whispered, “Kiara, baby, don’t listen to them. You are perfect just the way you are. You are strong, and you have so much beauty in you. You know that, don’t you?”
Kiara hesitated, only pulling her mother closer, “Mama, I hate my freckles…I want to be like them…”
“Sweetheart?” Amelia’s voice was gentle, but firm, filled with a quiet strength that always made Kiara feel safe. She knelt beside her daughter, cupping Kiara’s face in her hands. “Don’t listen to them. You are perfect just as you are. You are so loved. Never forget that, okay?”
Kiara didn’t answer, her lips trembling as she struggled to hold herself together. Kiara’s small form tensed as a sudden shift rippled through her. Her chest tightened, and a rush of warmth coursed through her body. Soon, the sensation grew stronger, flooding her mind with images that didn’t belong to her. Her mother’s emotions, thoughts, and abilities surged inside her.
Amelia’s telepathic suggestions were the first things Kiara felt—an overwhelming sense of love, understanding, and empathy and the deep burden of her mother’s constant awareness of others. It was too much. Her heart raced as she absorbed more than she could handle.
Then came the memories—fragments of her mother’s life, her mother and father’s wedding day, Kiara’s birth, her mother’s childhood- everything flooded her like an uncontrollable ocean wave. Kiara’s small hands shook as they pressed against her temples, trying to block it all out, but it was like trying to hold back an ocean with her bare hands. Kiara could feel it and sense the power filling her from within, which was overwhelming. It was like an unquenchable thirst, a need to take more and more.
“Mom... I... I don’t—” Kiara gasped, her voice a strangled cry as she began to tremble uncontrollably. The flood of powers, memories, and feelings grew until she could no longer separate them from her own. Her tiny body felt like it was being pulled in every direction, overwhelmed by everything she was experiencing. It was as though she was drowning in it, the pull of the power taking over her body, her mind.
Amelia’s eyes widened in concern as she felt the shift within Kiara. She instinctively held her closer to calm her daughter, but before she could react, something went wrong. Amelia’s voice became strained as she tried to steady herself, but she could feel her thoughts scattering, fading, as Kiara’s power grew stronger. “Kiara, baby, stop... please...”
Amelia collapsed to the floor, her body weak and trembling, but she still reached out to Kiara, even as she struggled to stay conscious. Kiara's vision was hazy and full of exhaustion and confusion, and her eyes turned a blazing blood red. She didn’t understand what was happening, but she could feel the life force fading from her mother. The overwhelming wave of power hit her all at once, and Kiara’s heart began to race faster, her chest tightening, her mind screaming as it tried to process everything in a rush.
Just as Kiara’s vision blurred and she started to lose her grip on reality, the door creaked open.
Julien stood in the doorway, his eyes narrowing as he immediately sensed something was wrong. He hadn’t seen Kiara like this before, and his precognitive abilities flared up, a rush of insight and warning coursing through him. He could feel the intense energy emanating from his daughter, the red glow in her eyes, and the way the air seemed to vibrate with raw, unchecked power.
“Kiara!” Julien called out, his voice low and steady, though a sense of urgency laced his words. He moved quickly, stepping forward, his focus entirely on his daughter. He could feel the overwhelming surge of power within her, and he knew he had to get to her before it got worse.
Kiara barely registered her father’s presence as he knelt beside her. He reached out to touch her shoulder, his calm touch meant to steady her, but everything shifted when his hand made contact.
Her eyes, glowing a deep, unnatural red, snapped to his, and in that instant, the floodgates opened. Kiara’s tiny body absorbed his precognitive abilities, his memories, his life force. Julien froze as he felt his own essence slipping into his daughter, a wave of emotions and memories surging through him.
He could feel the pull of it, the rush of his daughter taking everything he had, all in one moment. A tremor ran through him, but he fought against the overwhelming sensation, trying to remain steady.
She needed to stop, but she couldn’t. The pull was too strong. The thirst, the hunger to take more, it was insatiable. Her mind was a blur of new abilities, emotions, and memories—too much to process.
“Kiara,” he whispered, his voice softer now, full of love and reassurance. “You have to stop, baby. You don’t need all of this. Just breathe. Focus on me.”
His words were like a lifeline thrown to her, and slowly, with effort, Kiara’s glowing eyes began to fade, the red light dimming. Her breath became more shallow, her little chest still heaving with the weight of everything she had absorbed.
Julien’s voice remained calm as he stroked her hair, his heart full of pride despite the chaos unfolding. He wasn’t sure how it had happened, but at that moment, his little girl had not only absorbed his abilities but had become something extraordinary.
“Kiara, you’re okay,” Julien said gently. “We love you, no matter what. We are so proud of you. You’re stronger than this. You’ve always been strong.”
Kiara’s heart stuttered in her chest as her father’s words broke through the haze of power and fear clouding her mind. His love was like an anchor, pulling her back from the edge. But she could feel the glowing red fading from her eyes, the hunger slowly subsiding as she focused on his voice, on his love.
Her mother stirred beside her, her eyes fluttering open, and even though she was weakened, her gaze held nothing but warmth and pride. “Kiara, you’ve always had the power,” Amelia whispered. “You just have to believe that you can control it. We believe in you.”
With those words, Kiara’s heart steadied, her breathing slowing. The tugging feeling in her chest faded, replaced by a strange calmness. She had hurt her parents, had taken too much, but she could feel their love, and that was all she needed to hold onto.
Kiara didn’t know how long it would take to understand her power, but she knew one thing: her parents would always be there.
***
Kiara’s small hand clutched her mother’s as they walked past rows of other families waiting to be seen. Some kids looked excited, showing off their abilities—one made sparks dance between his fingers. Others sat stiffly, their parents whispering, their faces drawn tight. All were here for the same thing, to report their children to the Department of Special Abilities (DSA). It was mandatory and trying to get around it would only be a headache or death sentence in the long run.
Her father held the paperwork—a thick folder with her name on it. Kiara Davis, Age 5.
She didn’t understand why they were here. All she knew was that, after what happened last week—when she made her mother collapse and her father weak, her parents made an important phone call and she hadn’t been to school since.
Now, they were here.
A woman in a navy-blue blazer called their names, and suddenly, they were being led down a long, white hallway. No decorations. No windows. Just numbered doors and blinking security cameras.
They were taken to an observation room. Metal chairs, a large glass window, cameras in every corner.
A man in a dark suit greeted them. “Dr. Hayes,” he said, offering no smile. “We just need to run a few tests. Basic procedure.”
Her parents nodded. Her mother knelt beside her, smoothing Kiara’s curls. “Just like a check-up, baby.”
First were the traditional tests, which were nothing out of the ordinary. The doctors checked height, weight, reflexes, just as any normal doctor, but then came the special test.
A young agent was brought in to assist. He smiled at her, kind but wary. “Hi, Kiara. My name is Ryan.”
She gave a small nod.
Ryan extended his hand. “Can you hold mine for a second?”
Her mother’s fingers twitched at her side. Her father tensed. “Go ahead baby, do as the agent says, me and your father are right here with you.”
Kiara hesitated but obeyed, placing her tiny hand in his palm. At first, nothing happened.
Then, something shifted.
Ryan inhaled sharply. His eyes widened as if something invisible was pulling at him, draining him.
His breath stuttered. His knees buckled.
Kiara felt it—his energy slipping away, seeping into her like water soaking through fabric.
She yanked her hand back.
Ryan collapsed. Gasping, trembling, eyes fluttering. Alive, but barely.
Alarms blared. Agents rushed in.
Her father tried to move toward her, but a guard held him back.
Dr. Hayes watched her with calm, calculating eyes. Not shocked. Not concerned. Just... interested.
He scribbled something in his notes. “Fascinating.” I think she would make a perfect test subject.
Experimentation was inevitable, but there were limits—laws protecting American children. Kiara was still a citizen, and the U.S. lacked the resources to test her safely.
So they outsourced.
The United States contacted the South Korean government and arranged an off-the-books agreement. South Korea had the technology, personnel, and facilities. In exchange for funding and classified reports, it would study Kiara in ways the U.S. legally couldn’t.
***
That night, Kiara was in bed when she heard a loud bang.
At first, she thought it was thunder. Then came another crash—glass shattering, footsteps pounding.
Her bedroom door flew open.
“Kiara!” Her mother’s voice was sharp, urgent. “Come here, baby.”
Kiara scrambled from bed. Her father grabbed her, lifting her into his arms.
Then—gunfire.
The sound split the air, deafening, before her father’s body jerked violently.
Kiara tumbled from his grasp, hitting the floor hard.
Her mother screamed. Rushed and ragged, her mother used her ability one final time, Mommy and Daddy love you, don’t forget about us baby. Keep your necklace on you as a reminder of us. Another shot.
She looked up. Her parents lay motionless, red spreading across the floor. Kiara couldn’t breathe.
A man in a mask loomed over her, his gun still raised.
Someone grabbed her by the hair, yanking her up. She kicked, screamed, fought— but then—
Something slammed into her head and everything went dark.
She woke up in a hospital bed, her body sore, her head pounding. There was no one left.
Doctors and nurses spoke softly to her, but she didn’t answer. She didn’t cry, didn’t scream.
Government officials came. Federal agents. State officials. They asked her questions—who did this? What was her name? Where was she from?
She said nothing. Her eyes glazed over from the shock of what she just witnessed last night.
A month passed.
A state official arrived, flanked by two strangers—a Korean man and woman dressed in somber clothing. The official, a woman with tired eyes, explained, “Kiara, this is your new family. You’re going to South Korea with them.”
She barely reacted; she only looked up at the couple and then back down at her small hands.
The paperwork was already done. Forged documents, fabricated history, an official adoption approved by both governments. Within days, she had a passport, new identification, a legal alias.
She was no longer Kiara Davis, that person died that night with her parents. She knew who she was but to society she was dead.
She was someone else now.
The plane landed in Seoul, but she wasn’t taken to a house. No new bedroom. No warm home. Instead, she was led through a maze of underground corridors until she reached a cold, white room with a small bed, a desk, and a chair.
The officials—faceless in their authority—stood over her.
“You are here for a reason, Kiara,” one of them said in fluent English. “Your abilities are valuable and rare. We will help you understand them.”
Her fists clenched in her lap, but she said nothing.
“There is no escape. You do not know the language. No one knows you are here. To the outside world you are dead. No one is coming for you.”
Still, she didn’t speak, only looking down in her lap.
They changed tactics. “For every successful experiment, you may choose one reward—an item for your room, something to keep for yourself.”
She refused to look at them.
“For every failure, there will be consequences.”
The door clicked shut behind them, leaving her alone in the sterile, empty room.
Kiara stared at the wall. She could still hear the echo of gunshots in her ears.
****
After months in the facility, Kiara slowly got accustomed to everything. The kids had school for six hours every day in their native language. The government couldn’t risk any of the kids learning Korean and potentially escaping from captivity. Then experiments were conducted weekly, if you were lucky, and daily, if you were unlucky. Initially she would cry alone in her cold room, but crying did nothing, only made everything hurt more than keeping everything inside.
She wasn’t the only child in the facility; the facility was full of children of different ages from across the world. One night, she heard crying; crying wasn’t uncommon among the children here. Ripped away from their parents or abandoned by them because of their abilities, crying at night was quite common.
The sound was muffled, quiet, like he was trying to keep it to himself. But Kiara could hear everything in the common room when it was this late. No scientists. No guards. Just the hum of the facility’s lights and the breathing of the other children who had learned how to survive in silence.
Kiara pushed herself off her bed, her bare feet making no sound against the cold floor. She moved carefully, creeping past the other rooms until she found him.
The new boy.
He sat curled up in the farthest corner, his arms wrapped tightly around his knees, his head bowed. His small shoulders shook with every uneven breath.
She hesitated.
They weren’t supposed to get close to each other. That was a rule. Not a written one, but one that everyone here understood. Close meant caring, and caring meant weakness.
But Kiara remembered what it had felt like when she first got here—the loneliness, the fear, the ache of wanting someone to tell her everything would be okay. So, despite knowing better, she knelt beside him.
For a long moment, he didn’t react.
Then, a shaky whisper: "I miss my mom."
The words hit Kiara like a punch to the chest, but she said nothing.
His breath hitched. "She—she promised me she'd always be there." His fingers dug into his arms, clenching the fabric of his too-thin hospital clothes. "But they took me when she wasn’t home. I—" His voice broke. "She doesn’t even know where I am."
Kiara didn’t know what to say.
She couldn’t promise him that his mother would find him. That anyone would find him. She couldn’t tell him that parents always kept their promises.
Hers hadn’t. Her only memory of her parents was a lie that they’d be there with her to learn her abilities.
So instead, she reached out, pausing just before her fingers touched his arm.
A moment of hesitation. Then, slowly, he relaxed, letting her rest her palm against his wrist.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then, Kiara squeezed his wrist, just once. The way she wished someone had done for her, and though the crying didn’t stop entirely, it quieted.
For the first time since coming to this place, Kiara felt like she had done something that mattered. For the next few months, they weren’t completely alone anymore, and for just one moment, she saw a faint smile of comfort on the boy’s face.
****
3 months later
The loudspeaker crackled until a man’s voice was heard, “Experiment 527, please enter.”
Kiara entered the room, confused about why it took them so long to start the experiments on her, but she did not care to know.
"Bring in the first subject," one of the scientists ordered.
A door hissed open.
A man was escorted in—a stranger. His head was shaven, his face blank, but Kiara saw the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands clenched into fists behind his back. He was afraid.
The scientist stepped forward, clipboard in hand. "This will be simple," he said. "You will take his ability. Just like you did before."
Kiara’s stomach twisted. Don’t wanna.
She didn’t say it out loud. She knew better.
The scientist didn’t wait for her to respond. "Proceed."
A guard forced the man’s wrist into her restrained hand.
Kiara flinched at the contact, but almost immediately, she felt it—the pull.
Her body responded on instinct, the way it always did.
The man's life force rushed toward her like a thread being unraveled. His energy and strength poured into her fingers, flooding her system like a jolt of warmth.
She felt his pulse slow. His skin turned clammy. His body growing weaker as she drained him.
But that was all. No memories. No power. No ability. Just…life.
The scientist’s brow furrowed. "Increase exposure," he ordered.
The guard shoved the man closer, forcing Kiara’s grip tighter. The pull deepened, and the man let out a strangled gasp—but still, nothing changed.
No flashes of thought. No glimpse of a hidden power unraveling.
Just his energy fading.
Kiara's fingers trembled. I hurt him.
The scientist sighed, frustrated. "Enough."
The guard yanked the man away, and he collapsed to the floor, gasping for air.
Kiara ripped her hands away, her chest heaving. She could still feel him inside her—his stolen strength, his fading warmth—but nothing more.
The scientist scribbled something down on his clipboard, his expression unreadable. Then, he turned to the guards.
“Bring in the second test subject.”
Kiara was confused. She had never heard of people having more than one test subject per experiment session.
The boy from before. The boy she finally had gotten close to and considered more than a stranger, recently like a friend, someone she could survive in this place with and not lose her sanity.
He was led inside, looking even smaller than before, his thin frame stiff with unease.
"Wait—" Kiara jerked against the restraints. "No, no, no—"
"You trust him," the scientist continued, circling her like a vulture. "That’s good. “It allows me to test my theory on your ability.”
The boy struggled against the guards. "W-what’s happening?" His voice shook. "Why am I here?"
"Silence." The scientist didn’t look at her. He gestured toward the guards. "Proceed."
The boy looked into Kiara’s eyes with confusion and fear, while she could only look away knowing what may happen.
And the moment they touched—
Everything changed.
A rush of heat. A sensation sharper, deeper, stronger than anything before.
Not just his life force but also his memories. His ability. Cellular manipulation…the power to control life at its base level, building blocks to the human body and life itself.
She saw it—**felt it—**rushing into her like a flood breaking through a dam.
The experiments. The cold, endless nights. The fear he never spoke about, the hope that still lingered despite everything.
And underneath it all—The familiar, unspoken connection between them. The trust they had built. The understanding that, in a place like this, neither of them was truly alone.
That was the difference.
The realization hit Kiara like a punch to the gut.
She had taken from him before. His power, his energy, his very essence.
And she could do it again.
The scientist’s eyes lit up with excitement. "So that’s how it works," he murmured, scribbling furiously. "Fascinating."
Kiara ripped her hand away, panting. Her body still buzzed with stolen power, her veins alive with the heat of his ability.
The scientist gave her a satisfied look. "It seems your ability is conditional," he said. "Proximity alone is not enough. You need…a connection."
Kiara clenched her jaw. That meant they wouldn’t just throw people at her randomly anymore. It meant they would find ways to make her care.
So they could use it against her.
Her stomach churned.
The scientist smiled. "This opens up many new possibilities," he mused. "We’ll continue testing tomorrow."
Kiara slumped against the chair, her pulse pounding. She had given them what they wanted.
After years of grueling experiments, Kiara would always return to her room shaken, with more memories that were not her own or with too much energy. She did not know what to do with them, but the scientists didn’t care. Results were what mattered.
Since she learned she had to be close with someone to be able to take their memories or special abilities, she kept her distance from everyone. Including the boy she was close to at first, for both their sakes. The scientists noticed her tactics and adapted accordingly…
****
“Experiment 527, please enter.”
Kiara, age 7, was so used to her experiment number, that her name became foreign to her ears. She slowly walked into the room and sat on the lone chair, the scientists in the observation deck.
The scientist’s voice crackled through the loudspeaker. “527, we have noticed that for years now, you have refused to form meaningful connections with anyone.”
Kiara said nothing, just looking down at her lap.
The scientist scoffed, “Well, since you are preventing us from getting the results we would like, we have come up with alternative means…bring the blood samples in.”
A scientist brought in a small suitcase filled with four syringes, prefilled with a red liquid. The moment Kiara saw it, her heart dropped to her stomach.
Kiara shivered, her voice unsteady, “What’s that?”
The scientist’s lips curled into something resembling a smile. “You refuse to connect with others, so we’ve decided to make things easier. If you won’t absorb willingly, we’ll introduce the connection for you.”
Kiara’s breath hitched. She struggled against the restraints, panic rising in her chest. “No—no, don’t! Please!”
The assistant grabbed her arm, swabbing the skin with alcohol. The sharp scent burned her nose.
Kiara thrashed. “Please! I don’t want it!” The needle pierced her skin.
It burned the moment it entered her bloodstream, searing through her veins like molten metal. Her vision blurred, her limbs jerking against the restraints as the foreign blood merged with her own. It wasn’t just blood—it was someone else. Someone’s life, their essence, their power.
Her mind cracked open, and suddenly, she wasn’t alone in her own head.
Memories flooded in, forceful and disorienting. A boy—his laughter, his fear, his loneliness. A mother’s voice calling his name. The feel of rain on his skin.
Then the power came. It hit like a tidal wave, overwhelming, suffocating. Her body jerked violently against the chair as her brain struggled to process the new ability surging through her. The air around her trembled, objects in the room rattling as something—some force—extended from her without her control.
The metal suitcase beside the scientist lifted into the air before flipping violently across the room, crashing against the wall. Papers flew from the table, caught in an unseen force. The scientists stepped back, murmuring notes, watching as Kiara gasped for air, her small chest heaving.
Her head hurt. Everything was too loud, too bright. She could feel the power, but it wasn’t hers—it belonged to someone else, and it was wrong.
The scientist in the room crouched beside her chair, peering into her wide, tear-filled eyes. “Fascinating,” he murmured. “Even without physical contact, the absorption is successful. We may have found a more efficient method after all.”
Kiara sobbed, her body trembling violently. The power wasn’t settling. It was too much. Her head pounded, and nausea curled in her stomach. She wanted to tear it out of herself, to rip it away before it consumed her completely.
The scientist in the observation deck spoke into the loudspeaker. “Log the results. We’ll see how long she retains this one.”
Kiara barely heard him over the ringing in her ears. The chair beneath her shook, rattling against the floor as her stolen power flared wildly, uncontrolled.
And all she could do was scream.
Kiara’s chest heaved with every unsteady breath, her small frame shaking uncontrollably as the foreign telekinetic power surged through her. It was as if the world had gone mad—objects swirled around her in a chaotic mess, lifted by an invisible force she couldn’t control. Her hands trembled as she reached out, but the power only grew stronger, thrashing inside her. Her head felt like it was going to split open, the boy’s memories, emotions, and abilities all flooding her mind at once.
"Stop!" she cried, her voice strangled by panic. “I can’t... I can’t do this...!” Kiara’s heart raced, and she struggled harder against the restraints. “Please... I don’t want this! Please, I can’t stop it...!”
Just then, the door to the room opened, and a new presence stepped in. A woman in a white lab coat, her movements calm and composed, walked toward Kiara. Her face was neutral, but Kiara caught a flicker of something else in her eyes—something soft that didn’t belong in this cold, sterile environment.
Mrs. Seo. She moved with a quiet confidence, approaching Kiara without hesitation. As soon as she entered the room, the telekinetic force Kiara had absorbed seemed to quiver, the chaos in the air shifting. The metal objects in the room are still floating, still in mid-air. The air grew dense, almost palpable, and Kiara felt the energy that had been tearing her apart begin to quiet.
Mrs. Seo knelt beside Kiara’s chair, her eyes soft but focused. “Kiara,” she said gently, her voice soothing, almost like a whisper. “You’re okay. It’s going to be alright.”
Kiara’s vision was blurry, tears streaking her face. “I... I can’t... I can’t control it...”
Mrs. Seo didn’t respond immediately. She placed her hand on Kiara’s trembling arm, and the moment their skin made contact, Kiara felt a strange stillness flood over her. It wasn’t the sharp, cold detachment of the experiment; it was something else entirely. Something calming. Mrs. Seo’s ability to neutralize powers seeped into Kiara’s being, like a soft wave that washed over the storm inside her.
Kiara’s mind, which had been a cacophony of foreign thoughts and emotions, suddenly quieted. The telekinetic power that had been ripping through her dulled, the sensations fading into a dull thrum. Her body slowly stopped shaking, the tension in her muscles easing as the chaos that had once filled the room began to subside.
“You’re safe now,” Mrs. Seo said quietly, her voice full of warmth and care. “Just breathe, Kiara. You’re okay.”
Kiara gasped for air, her chest rising and falling in quick succession as she fought to calm herself. Her tears slowed, and she leaned into Mrs. Seo’s touch, the comfort of it strange but welcome.
She felt so small in the chair, so fragile. But Mrs. Seo was there, her presence a shield against the madness that had threatened to swallow her whole.
Behind them, the other scientist watched, his expression unreadable. “Mrs. Seo, we need to assess the results of the experiment,” he said, his voice clipped, impatient. “This test isn’t over.”
But Mrs. Seo didn’t even look at him. She kept her focus entirely on Kiara, her eyes never leaving the girl’s face. “I’m taking responsibility for her care from here on.”
The other scientist stiffened, but he didn’t argue. He simply gave a brief nod and turned to the assistants, signaling them to record the results. Mrs. Seo’s actions had made it clear that she wasn’t going to let Kiara suffer under their experiments anymore—not if she had a say in it.
Kiara’s chest rose and fell with each shaky breath, her mind still foggy from the overwhelming experience. She looked up at Mrs. Seo, her eyes wide, still full of confusion.
“Why are you helping me?” Kiara whispered, her voice hoarse and small. “Why do you care?”
Mrs. Seo smiled, her expression warm but carefully guarded. “Because you deserve care,” she said softly, her hand still resting on Kiara’s arm. “Because you’re not just a subject, Kiara. You’re a person. And I will help you.”
Kiara felt a strange sense of safety at her words, though she didn’t fully understand them. It wasn’t just the power that had calmed her—it was the sincerity in Mrs. Seo’s voice, the way she spoke as though Kiara were more than a lab rat, more than just an experiment.
But Mrs. Seo didn’t linger on the sentiment. She gave Kiara one last reassuring glance before standing up, her movements careful but purposeful. “We’ll take it one step at a time.”
Kiara nodded slowly, her body still weak from the overload, but she managed to sit up a little straighter in the chair. As Mrs. Seo turned to leave, Kiara whispered softly, “Thank you.”
Mrs. Seo gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, before stepping away and closing the door behind her.
In the silence that followed, Kiara felt the weight of the moment settle over her. For the first time in as long as she could remember, someone had taken her side—someone who didn’t want to hurt her, didn’t want to use her.
The next day, Kiara sat on the examination table, her legs still, her hands resting limply in her lap. Everything ached. Yesterday’s experiment had pushed her past her limits, leaving her body wrung out and her head foggy. The IV line in her arm had been removed earlier, but she still felt its phantom sting, as if the cold bite of the needle had settled beneath her skin.
The door clicked open, and Kiara stiffened on instinct. But when she saw who it was, her shoulders loosened—just a little.
Mrs. Seo entered with her usual clipboard in hand, her steps measured. She carefully closed the door behind her, as if mindful of the noise. She simply looked at Kiara for a moment, eyes sweeping over her as if assessing the damage beyond what the medical reports said.
She sighed. “You overdid it.”
Kiara nodded, throat dry. She wouldn’t say it out loud, but they both knew it hadn’t been her choice.
Mrs. Seo set the clipboard down on the counter and approached, reaching out to gently take Kiara’s wrist. Her touch was warm but light, her fingers cool against Kiara’s skin as she checked her pulse. She didn’t let go immediately, letting the silence stretch before she finally spoke again.
“I need you to listen to me carefully, Kiara.” Her voice was softer now, almost gentle.
Kiara met her gaze, uncertain but attentive.
“I have watched you for the past few years, and I have seen what those scientists have done to you. I could not intervene immediately to protect the both of us. Now, I believe is the right time for me to step in…to protect you, but there are some rules. No one can know,” Mrs. Seo said. “Not the staff. Not the researchers. If they think I care too much, they’ll reassign you. Or punish me.” She hesitated, then added, “Or punish you to keep me in line.”
Kiara swallowed hard. She understood. She always understood.
Mrs. Seo’s grip on her wrist tightened for just a second before she let go. “I won’t let that happen,” she murmured.
A small rustling sound, and then something was pressed into Kiara’s palm. A piece of wrapped candy. A quiet comfort, one Kiara clutched tightly as Mrs. Seo stepped back.
“You’ll be tired for a while,” she said, slipping back into her professional tone, but it lacked the cold edge she used with others. “Rest as much as you can. I’ll make sure they give you time.”
Kiara nodded, sliding off the table, her legs unsteady but moving.
Just as she reached the door, Mrs. Seo’s voice stopped her.
“Kiara.”
She turned, looking up at her.
A pause. Then, a quiet, careful whisper: “Be strong, okay?”
Kiara didn’t trust herself to speak, so she just nodded, gripping the candy a little tighter.
And for the first time in a long while, she didn't feel completely alone as she walked back to her room.
Kiara sat cross-legged on the thin mattress, staring at the piece of candy in her palm. It was small, wrapped in bright red plastic, a color that felt too loud in the dull gray of her room.
She turned it over between her fingers, her thoughts spiraling like a tornado.
It’s a test. It had to be.
The scientists were always watching, always pushing, always looking for new ways to break her down and measure what spilled out. They had tried everything—pain, isolation, hunger, exhaustion. And when that wasn’t enough, they had tried kindness.
Kindness is the worst one.
It was the most dangerous. The most painful was when they ripped it away.
Kiara clenched her fist around the candy, feeling the plastic crinkle beneath her fingers. Mrs. Seo is just another part of their experiment. She’s not different.
She couldn’t be.
The scientists didn’t allow "different." Everything here had a purpose. The guards had a purpose. The experiments had a purpose. Even the meals they gave her had a purpose—balanced, calculated, just enough to keep her alive but never full.
So why would Mrs. Seo give her something… extra? Something unnecessary?
Because it’s not unnecessary. Because it was bait.
Maybe they wanted to see what she would do if someone treated her gently. Maybe they wanted to measure how long it would take for her to trust someone before they betrayed her again. Maybe they wanted to see if her ability worked differently when she had a connection to the person she absorbed from.
Kiara’s stomach twisted.
That’s it, isn’t it?
They wanted her to get attached. To make her believe, just for a moment, that someone here actually cared. Then, they would take her away when she finally let her guard down—when she reached for Mrs. Seo like she had reached for others before.
They would watch what happened when she broke.
Kiara’s breathing was steady, controlled, but her fingers shook. She wanted to believe Mrs. Seo’s words and that maybe—maybe—there was someone in this place who didn’t see her as a test subject. But she had believed before. And it had cost her.
Never again.
With a sharp inhale, she stood and crossed the small room. She placed the candy on the desk, staring at it for a long moment.
Then she turned away.
She would not touch it.
She would not eat it.
She would not fall for the trap.
Mrs. Seo was just another scientist, just another hand in the machine that kept her locked in this place.
And Kiara would not give them the satisfaction of hoping otherwise.
****
Years passed, experiments conducted, but Mrs. Seo never changed, not for Kiara. She continued to be a motherly influence, teaching her everything from feminine hygiene and basic Korean, to having personal conversations with her about the outside and her own children, a beautiful, graceful daughter and a handsome, stubborn son.
Kiara was now 13-years-old. The years of experiments, hardened her heart. Now, she didn’t cry after every lab session; she was always the perfect test subject. Whatever she had to do to make sure the scientists did not bother her more than necessary, that was until puberty.
Kiara knocked once before pushing the door open, stepping inside without waiting for permission. Normally, she wouldn’t be this bold—she kept her head down, spoke only when necessary, never drew attention to herself. But this was Mrs. Seo.
When she saw her, Kiara shut the door behind her and threw herself onto the small chair across from her desk. "Eomma! I think I'm dying," she announced, her voice somewhere between exasperation and genuine panic.
Mrs. Seo barely looked up from the file she was reviewing. "Oh?"
Kiara leaned forward, lowering her voice as if confessing a dangerous secret. "There's blood. A lot of it. And it won’t stop."
That got Mrs. Seo’s attention. She placed her pen down, her sharp eyes flickering over Kiara in an instant. "Where?"
Kiara hesitated, then wrinkled her nose. “Uh. Down there.”
Mrs. Seo’s expression softened immediately. She exhaled through her nose, a small, knowing smile tugging at her lips. "Kiara," she murmured, shaking her head.
Kiara’s stomach twisted. "Wait, is it bad bad? I knew they were messing with my insides!" She pointed at her stomach dramatically, her voice growing more frantic. "I thought I was safe since I don’t look experimented on, but what if—what if they put something in me? What if—”
Mrs. Seo held up a hand, cutting her off. "Kiara."
Kiara immediately stopped talking but still looked like she was expecting the worst.
Mrs. Seo gave her a look. "You're not dying. You just started your period."
Kiara blinked. "My what?"
"Your period."
There was a long pause.
Then—
"You’re lying. Why now of all times?" Kiara narrowed her eyes, leaning in as if trying to catch Mrs. Seo in some sort of trick.
Mrs. Seo simply raised a brow. "Why would I lie about that? And it happens randomly, you can’t control when it starts."
Kiara opened her mouth, then closed it. That was actually a good question. The scientists never told her anything—they just took. If this was an experiment, it was a really weird one.
Still, she wasn’t completely convinced. "Explain it."
Mrs. Seo sighed, but there was no real frustration in it. “It happens to all girls when they get older. It’s normal. Your body is just changing.”
Kiara squinted at her. "Normal?"
"Yes."
"...So the blood isn't because of some horrible government experiment?"
Mrs. Seo chuckled . "No."
Kiara sat back in her chair, processing. "Huh." She was quiet for a moment, then suddenly groaned, dragging her hands down her face. "Ugh, I was so dramatic for nothing!"
Mrs. Seo smirked. "You? Dramatic? Never."
Kiara gave her an unimpressed look. “Okay, rude.”
Mrs. Seo only chuckled before standing up and walking over to one of the cabinets. She returned with a small package of pads, placing them on the desk in front of Kiara.
Kiara stared at them suspiciously. "And these are...?"
"Sanitary pads. You'll need them to manage the bleeding."
Kiara picked up the package and turned it over in her hands. "...This is the dumbest thing my body has ever done."
Mrs. Seo hummed in agreement. “You’re not wrong.”
Kiara cracked a smile at that before remembering something else. She bit her lip, fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. "Uh, also..." She hesitated, her playful energy dimming. "My abilities feel... weird."
Mrs. Seo’s expression shifted slightly. "Weird how?"
Kiara shrugged, but there was tension in her shoulders. "Louder. Everything is... louder. It feels like I am pulling from people and not even touching them or intending to.. . And there’s this—" She hesitated. "This pull. Like I need to take something. Like I want to.” She swallowed, suddenly nervous. “That’s not normal, right?"
Mrs. Seo was quiet for a moment, then sighed, rubbing her temple. Your body is going through changes. For someone like you, that means your abilities will fluctuate too."
Kiara winced. "Great. So I get more freaky when this happens?"
Mrs. Seo shot her a mildly scolding look. "You're not freaky, Kiara."
Kiara groaned again, flopping dramatically against the back of the chair. “This is the worst. ”
Mrs. Seo smirked. "It’s only the beginning."
Kiara pointed an accusatory finger at her. "You're enjoying this."
Mrs. Seo didn’t even bother to deny it. "A little."
Kiara huffed, crossing her arms, but the lingering fear in her chest had started to fade. It was still there, buried beneath the teasing and exasperation, but it wasn’t as suffocating as before.
Mrs. Seo wasn’t treating her like a test subject.
She wasn’t analyzing her.
She was just... talking to her. Explaining things in a way that made sense. In a way that made her feel human.
And maybe Kiara shouldn’t trust that. Maybe she should keep her guard up, remind herself that Mrs. Seo was still part of this place, still someone who could be taken from her at any moment.
But right now, she was tired. And hurting. And maybe, just maybe, she wanted to believe Mrs. Seo could be something real in this place.
So she let herself relax—just a little.
“…Okay,” Kiara mumbled, eyeing the pads again. "But you're explaining how to use these, because I am not asking the scientists."
Mrs. Seo chuckled. "Deal."
The next few months, Kiara learned how to take care of herself now that she had a period, but expecting the scientists to not notice her fatigue at the same time every month or her rubbing her lower stomach due to cramps was only wishful thinking.
The loudspeaker cracked with the same monotone voice, “Experiment 527, please enter the lab.”
Kiara stepped into the lab as she had done hundreds of times before, but she was already fatigued today due to her cycle, and the itch to take from her ability was extra sensitive today. Kiara sat on the cold metal chair, her hands clenched into fists on her lap. She could feel it again, that terrible, gnawing hunger. It curled inside her stomach, an unrelenting pull in her veins, thrumming in time with her heartbeat.
She knew what they wanted.
The head scientist, adjusted his glasses, his expression unreadable as he glanced at the clipboard in his hands. Behind him, a team of researchers stood stiffly, their white lab coats stark against the gray walls. Mrs. Seo stood farther back, her face unreadable, arms crossed. Her presence meant they expected something dangerous.
"Your abilities have been showing... irregular fluctuations," The head scientist finally said, flipping a page. "We've detected an increase in your energy absorption rates, particularly during this time of the month. Fascinating. It seems your hormonal cycle directly influences your power output."
Kiara's jaw tightened. She already knew that. She felt it every time her cycle came—how the world around her seemed sharper, how people’s emotions bled into her like spilled ink, how the pull of their energy became unbearable. And they knew it too. That’s why she was here.
The head scientist nodded toward a younger researcher, who hesitated before wheeling in a restrained test subject. A man, blindfolded, bound at the wrists and ankles, a low whimper escaping his throat. Kiara’s stomach turned.
"We need to test the limits of your absorption. We’ll monitor how much control you have under heightened conditions," the head scientist continued, his voice clinical. "If you do well, we’ll make today’s session brief."
The hunger inside her pulsed, burning in her chest, making her fingers twitch. She didn't want to do this. But the alternative was worse. She had been through their punishments before—solitary confinement in a pitch-black room, deprivation of food and water, electric shocks strong enough to scramble her senses.
She took a slow breath. Keep it contained. Just enough to satisfy them.
Kiara reached out, pressing her fingers against the test subject’s wrist. Instantly, the pull intensified. His life force surged into her like an overflowing current, warmth seeping into her skin, into her blood, into her mind. But something was different. The rush was stronger.
Memories crashed into her like a tidal wave. Kiara gasped, jerking back, quickly removing her hand, but the pull didn’t stop. Her own body betrayed her, greedily drinking in every scrap of energy, every fragment of his soul, every ounce of his existence. The man convulsed violently, his heartbeat thundering—then slowing.
No, no, no—!
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push it back, trying to stop the endless siphon, but her body was on fire. Power flooded her, too much, too fast. Her vision blurred, the fluorescent lights above flickering wildly, their buzzing growing deafening. Somewhere in the room, the metal tray of instruments rattled, the heart monitor spiked, and then—glass shattered.
A sharp, high-pitched shriek erupted through the room, lights exploding overhead. The researchers stumbled back as every electronic device crackled and surged, screens distorting with static. The test subject collapsed, lifeless.
Kiara felt like she was drowning, her head spinning with stolen memories, emotions that weren’t hers, power screaming beneath her skin. She was suffocating in it. She barely registered the commotion around her—guards rushing in, alarms blaring, scientists shouting.
Then, a hand gripped her shoulder. Mrs. Seo.
And just like that, everything stopped. The power drain, the overwhelming rush—it all cut off in an instant, like a switch flipped. The hunger inside her didn’t vanish, but it was smothered under the weight of Mrs. Seo’s ability.
Kiara gasped, slumping forward, chest heaving.
The head scientist adjusted his glasses, seemingly unfazed by the near-disaster. "Interesting," he murmured, jotting something down. "Her power output has nearly tripled. But control remains an issue."
"She’s not stable like this," Mrs. Seo said, her voice cool but firm. "If you push her any further, she’ll kill more than just a test subject."
He hummed in thought, then turned to Kiara, studying her like she was nothing more than a specimen in a petri dish. "Then we’ll just have to find a way to fix that."
Kiara’s fingers twitched against the chair’s metal arms. She already knew what that meant.
More experiments. More tests.
And there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.
***
"Congratulations, Kiara," Director Park, the older of the two men, said, sliding a folder toward her. "You're officially an adult. And that means it's time to discuss your future."
Kiara swallowed hard, her stomach twisting. She'd known this was coming. She'd seen the way the facility’s staff had started treating her differently in the past few months—less like an experiment, more like an investment about to be put to use.
"You've proven to be... uniquely gifted," Director Park continued, flipping open the folder. A series of reports detailed her ability, strengths, weaknesses, and the results of every test she'd endured since childhood. "And we've decided that your talents are best suited for fieldwork. Specifically, intelligence gathering."
Kiara stayed silent, her heart pounding in her chest.
The younger agent, a woman with sharp eyes and a voice like steel, leaned forward. "The world is full of people like you—people who refuse to register, who go into hiding, who pose a threat simply by existing outside of government oversight. You will help us find them."
Kiara clenched her jaw. "You mean spy on them."
"Yes." The woman didn’t sugarcoat it. “Your ability makes you the perfect infiltrator. You can get close to people in ways others can't. You can gain their trust, extract their memories, uncover their secrets—all without them realizing what you've done."
Director Park nodded, watching her closely. "This isn’t a request, Kiara. It’s your duty. You’ve been raised and trained under our protection. Now, it’s time to give back."
Kiara’s fingers dug into her palm. Protection? Is that what they called years of confinement, of experiments, of taking everything from her?
She forced herself to meet his gaze. "And if I refuse?"
The woman exhaled sharply, shaking her head as if she found the question ridiculous. Director Park, however, remained composed. "Refusal isn’t an option," he said simply. "If you don’t work for us, you don’t work at all. And that would be a shame, considering all the effort we've put into ensuring you have a future, only for us to have to neutralize you."
A cold dread settled over her. She knew what he meant. They owned her. She wasn’t free, not really.
Director Park continued, “We will teach you basic self-defense, how to control your abilities, espionage, manipulation tactics, Korean, Japanese, and any additional information you need to be successful for your missions.”
“If you are successful with your first assignment, you will be generously rewarded and continue to be with every successful mission hereafter.”
Kiara sighed, “Fine, not like I have a choice anyway. So, when do I start?”
Director Park smirked, “Three months…we will use your ability to ensure you learn everything necessary for the mission within the time allotted.”
Kiara rolled her eyes at the statement.
"Here is your first assignment," the woman said, pushing the file toward her. "Study it. When the time comes, you’ll do what you were made for."
She slowly reached out, her fingers brushing over the file’s edge. The woman smirked slightly, as if she'd already won.
Kiara flipped it open.
Inside was a photo of a young man, mid-20s, disheveled dark hair, wary eyes. The name beneath it was Jung Hae-jin, and a brief dossier followed: No known job. Frequent changes of address. No recorded ability. Suspected of unregistered special power usage. An anonymous tip had flagged him as dangerous.
Kiara forced herself to skim the details, even as her pulse drummed against her ribs.
The woman spoke up, "We don’t know his ability yet, but we know he’s hiding something. You’ll get close to him. Gain his trust. Find out what he is and report back."
Kiara kept her expression blank. "And if he refuses to talk?"
The woman shrugged. "You’ll make him talk."
A cold shiver ran through her spine. She knew what they meant—she’d done it before, unintentionally, when she was younger, when she couldn’t control her ability. She could take everything from him with a simple touch, an innocent brush of skin. His memories. His secrets. Maybe even his life, if she wasn’t careful.
Director Park’s voice was calm but firm. "You’ve been trained for this, Kiara. It’s time to put that training to use."
Kiara’s jaw tightened. "I wasn’t trained. I was experimented on."
For the first time, the woman’s smirk faltered.
Director Park, however, remained composed. "You will be trained by the time you start in three months, now fulfill your purpose, or you will be disposed of…permanently."
Kiara knew there was no point in arguing. Not here. Not now.
****
Three months later…
Kiara’s mission started as expected. She trailed Jung Hae-jin from a distance, piecing together his routine beyond what was in the file. He worked odd jobs—bartending one night, unloading shipments another, never staying in one place too long. He avoided surveillance like instinct, changing routes, ducking into side streets, never using a phone for long. He was cautious. Too cautious for someone with nothing to hide.
Her first attempt to make contact was at a small noodle shop where he was eating alone. She played her role effortlessly—an exhausted university student complaining about life, waiting for him to take the bait. He barely acknowledged her.
The second attempt, days later, was more calculated. She pretended to need help with directions in the alley behind a bookstore he frequented. This time, he hesitated before offering an answer. She caught the flicker of suspicion in his eyes.
By the third attempt, she adjusted. She let him see her more—passing by him in different places, sometimes close, sometimes at a distance. A familiar face in a city of strangers. And then, she let chance do the rest.
It was raining the night they finally spoke. She made sure she was in his path, hood up, shivering, pretending to struggle with an umbrella that refused to open. He had glanced at her, sighed, and muttered, "You’re not very good at this, are you?" before walking past.
She hadn’t responded right away. She had let the silence linger, just enough to make it real, before calling after him. "What gave it away?"
Hae-jin had stopped, looking over his shoulder. "You just… don’t fit in here."
It was the closest thing to an invitation she’d get. From that night on, their interactions became more frequent. Casual. As if they were acquaintances, then something closer. She let the bond form naturally, careful not to push. He was wary, but she was patient.
Weeks passed.
Hae-jin didn’t talk about his past. He didn’t mention an ability. But Kiara could tell. There were moments when he tensed before a loud noise, his hands twitched as if fighting something unseen, and his gaze flickered with recognition at things he shouldn’t know.
And then, one night, she saw it.
An angry man had grabbed Hae-jin outside a bar, shouting about a stolen wallet. When it happened, Kiara had been across the street, about to step in.
The air around Hae-jin shimmered. The man’s expression went slack. His grip loosened. His eyes glazed over as if his mind had been wiped clean.
Hae-jin said something low, something Kiara couldn’t hear. The man nodded, turned, and walked away as if nothing had happened.
Kiara’s stomach dropped.
Mind Control.
The government had been right—Hae-jin wasn’t normal. He was powerful. And dangerous.
She should have reported it immediately, given them exactly what they wanted.
But she didn’t.
Because for the first time, she wasn’t just spying on a target. She was seeing someone who had spent his whole life running, hiding, surviving.
Someone like her.
Kiara sat in her apartment, the burner phone cold in her grip. The city outside was alive with neon lights and the distant hum of traffic, but inside, everything was still. Quiet.
She had seen what she needed to see.
Hae-jin’s power had unraveled before her eyes—the way the man had let go, the way his mind had been rewritten in an instant. It was dangerous. He was dangerous.
And yet, all she could think about was how easily he had walked away, untouched, unbothered. Free. Unlike her.
Unlike the children locked in that underground facility, waiting for someone to save them.
Waiting, the way she had. No one came for me.
The thought was bitter, curling in her chest like smoke. She had been dragged into hell, experimented on, trained, molded into this—this thing they could use. And what had the world done? Looked away. Let it happen.
Hae-jin had been given a chance to run. To disappear. He hadn’t been locked in a cell, stripped of his identity, turned into a tool. He had a choice.
She never did.
Her fingers dialed the number without hesitation. The line clicked after one ring.
"Report," a voice instructed on the other end.
She didn’t hesitate. Didn’t waver.
"Target confirmed. Unregistered ability. Mind manipulation. Capable of altering perception and memories," she said, voice flat, professional. "Highly skilled at avoiding detection. No known allies. No immediate threat."
A pause. Then, "Understood. Stand by for further instructions."
The line went dead.
Kiara placed the phone back on the table, exhaling slowly. There was no satisfaction, no guilt. Just the same empty, gnawing feeling she had carried for years.
Hae-jin would be taken. Processed. Controlled.
Just like she had been. And if he was lucky, he’d learn what she had.
No one was coming to save him.
****
The skyline of Seoul stretched beyond Kiara’s apartment window, bathed in the soft glow of the evening lights. It was quiet—too quiet. The kind of silence that came with being alone for too long. The kind she had grown used to.
Ten years had passed.
Ten years of missions. Of tracking, infiltrating, reporting. Of doing exactly what they asked of her. She had become their perfect weapon, their trusted agent. No more suspicious glances, no more whispers of the dangerous girl from the facility. Now, they looked at her with something close to respect.
The phone on her counter vibrated. She didn’t hesitate, grabbing it with practiced ease.
[Assignment Brief – Priority Level: High]
Target(s): Stray Kids
Kiara blinked. She read it again, then again, her stomach twisting in a way she hadn’t felt in years.
Stray Kids…
Of all the names she expected to see, that wasn’t one of them.
She knew them. Of course, she did. Their music had been everywhere for years—blaring from cafés, filling the streets, slipping into her ears through late-night playlists she told herself she didn’t care about. She wasn’t a hardcore fan, but she knew enough.
And now, they were her mission.
Her eyes flickered to the rest of the briefing.
Details: Suspicious activity detected among members of the internationally recognized K-pop group. Multiple instances of unexplained phenomena recorded during live performances, fan interactions, and personal footage. Possible unregistered abilities in one or more members.
Objective: Infiltrate as the group's newly appointed Special Abilities Counselor. Gain their trust. Observe, assess, and report.
Kiara let out a slow breath, gripping the phone tighter.
She should feel indifferent. This was just another mission. Another group of ability users who thought they could slip through the cracks. She had done this dozens of times.
But this time was different.
Because she knew them—not personally, but through the music, the performances, the rare glimpses of sincerity that managed to slip through the polished industry mask through their posted content.
For the first time in years, something like excitement sparked in her chest. She was going to meet them. Be a part of their world, even if it was under false pretenses.
But right underneath that excitement was something heavier.
A creeping sense of dread.
Because she knew exactly how this would end.
She would gain their trust. She would observe, assess, and report.
And then, one by one, they would disappear.