As we approached the final challenge, an eerie stillness enveloped the arena. The once-bustling gears and cogs seemed to pause, as if holding their breath in anticipation. In the center stood a colossal clock tower, its face illuminated with intricate designs that pulsed like a heartbeat.
Vasylia stood before us, her expression serious. "This is your final trial—the Chrono Nexus. To succeed, you must confront the shadows of your past and overcome the burdens that weigh you down."
"What does that even mean?" Kyelli asked, confusion evident on his face.
"It means you must confront the choices you've made, the paths you've taken," Vasylia explained, her gaze piercing. "Only by acknowledging your past can you forge a new future."
The clock tower chimed, and a portal opened at its base, revealing a swirling vortex of light. I felt a pull, an overwhelming urge to step forward. "We have to go in," I said, resolute.
One by one, we entered the portal, the world around us dissolving into a whirlwind of memories. The portal swirled with unsettling hues, distorting the memories of my past until they became unrecognizable reflections of who I was. I saw my grandfather's stern face, his lessons etched into my mind—control, precision, dominance. But alongside those memories came the darker echoes of my childhood: the whispers of fear, the sidelong glances from classmates, the way they recoiled at me as if I were a venomous snake.
The kids at school had never understood me. My intelligence, a gift I had cherished, had transformed into a weapon that left me isolated. I had been an outcast, the "freak" who spoke of machines and algorithms while they giggled over mundane topics. The stares of fear I received were like knives, piercing through the facade of normalcy I desperately tried to maintain. They didn't just fear my brilliance; they feared the darkness it brought to light—the tortured thoughts I had about control, about power, and about their fragility.
In the depths of those memories, I felt the humiliation of being bullied and cornered. I recalled the laughter that turned into jeers, the name-calling that felt like barbs on my skin. I remembered the times I had been pushed into lockers, the taunts echoing in my ears: "Freak! Monster! Go play with your machines!" Each insult dug deeper than any physical wound, etching scars onto my psyche.
The scenes morphed into the torment I faced in the psych ward. I had been shackled not just by straps but by the judgments of others who saw me as a ticking time bomb. The staff treated me like a liability, their eyes filled with a mixture of pity and fear. They thought I was a danger to myself and others. Each time they administered medication or forced me into therapy, I felt the cool metal of their tools pressing against my skin, the harsh reality of my situation enveloping me like a suffocating shroud.
But the worst of it was the experimental procedures. I recalled the cold, sterile room where I lay strapped to a table, the staff hovering over me, their faces obscured by masks. They treated me as a specimen, not a person. Each needle prick was a reminder of their belief that I was broken, that I needed fixing. The tests were endless, probing my mind, dissecting my thoughts as if they were algorithms in a machine that needed reprogramming.
Dr. Mendez had been one of the most persistent tormentors. He would sit across from me, his clipboard like a shield, his questions probing my psyche. "Tell me about your machines, Elmara. Are they an extension of your mind or a distraction from it?" His voice dripped with condescension, the way a scientist might address an inferior species. Each session felt like another round of torture, where I was the unwilling subject under the lens of scrutiny.
"I'm not broken," I had retorted once, my voice trembling with rage. "You're the ones who are afraid of what I can do!"
And they had laughed, dismissing my pain as the wild ramblings of a disturbed mind. They didn't see the truth; they only saw a monster in the making.
YOU ARE READING
Clockwork Minds
غموض / إثارةElmara is not your ordinary prodigy. Sharp as a blade and colder than steel, she is a genius in engineering, machinery, and every deadly art of self-defense. Her hatred for humanity is only matched by her love for destruction, and when a brutal assa...
