In the world where I was born, science didn't clatter and magic didn't whisper. They sang.
My father called them the "Twin Rivers." One was a stream of silver circuits and cold logic; the other was a flow of violet light and raw instinct. They shaped the floating spires of my home and the very air in my lungs. But I don’t remember the taste of that air. I only know it through the holographic ghosts my father left behind.
I only know that when the rivers turned to fire, my parents made a choice.
They couldn't save their world, but they could save me. They threw me through a shimmering wound in reality—a portal that smelled of ozone and desperation. My mother’s last act wasn't a hug or a kiss; it was hiding me in the most invisible place a "dull" world had to offer.
A metal trash can in a rain-slicked alleyway.
I was a baby, shivering and wrapped in a tattered cloak, clutching a heavy silver Watch to my chest like a heartbeat. The portal collapsed behind me, cutting off the screams of a dying Earth. I was alone in the dark, surrounded by the scent of wet cardboard and decay, until the lid opened and the light hit my eyes.
"Victoria? Earth to Vic! You’re staring at the wall again."
The memory shattered. I wasn't in a dark alley anymore; I was in a small, cramped bedroom in Sherwood City. The smell of trash was replaced by the scent of vanilla candles and Daniella’s burnt toast.
"Sorry," I muttered, pulling my hoodie sleeve down to cover my wrist. "Just... thinking."
Daniella Vega leaned against my doorframe, her arms crossed over her police academy t-shirt. She was the first thing I had seen after the trash can lid opened sixteen years ago. Her parents, the Vegas, hadn't seen a "freak" or an "alien." They had just seen a crying baby girl. They took me in, gave me their name, and raised me as their own.
To them, I was just Victoria. They didn't know I came from a sky that glowed violet. They just thought I was a miracle found in the garbage.
"You're always thinking," Daniella said, walking over and ruffling my hair. "Stop it. It’s your sixteenth birthday. No deep thoughts allowed today. Only pancakes and the Comic-Con."
"You guys really don't have to do all this," I said, looking at the handmade "Hero" cape she had draped over my chair.
"Shut up," she laughed, pulling me into a side-hug. "Mom is already flipping the blueberry pancakes, and Dad is trying to fix the camera for the hundredth time. You’re our sister, Vic. Our real sister. Now get dressed. I’m not letting you spend your birthday moping."
She headed for the door but stopped, looking back with a soft expression. "And hey... wear that weird watch. I know you like it. It’s the only thing you had when we found you, right? It’s part of who you are."
I looked down at the silver cuff. It was cold and heavy. For sixteen years, it had stayed silent. The Vegas didn't know it was a weapon of a lost world. They just thought it was a piece of jewelry I was obsessed with.
"I'll wear it," I promised.
As she closed the door, I felt a strange vibration against my skin. Not a shake, but a pulse. For the first time in my life, the Watch felt warm.
I looked out the window. The human world looked normal. People were walking dogs, cars were honking, and the sun was fighting through the morning fog. It was a good world. A safe world.
I didn't know that miles above us, the man who burned my first home was finally tracking the signal of the Watch.
I didn't know that by tonight, the Vegas would realize their "trash can miracle" was a target.
"The world keeps turning," I whispered, repeating the phrase Daniella always said when things got tough.
I just didn't realize how fast it was about to
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spin out of control.
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and then Add to home screen.