In a brightly lit room in the upper city district, a boy sighed longingly. He tried to sit up from his bed but was assaulted by a fit of coughs which left him gasping for breath. The boy sighed once more, his sadness and longing speaking in volumes. The boy was an ability-user, and like many others, he had hidden his powers from the world, not just because he was afraid of the consequences, but because he knew that he would never survive the kind of lifestyle the Renegades were living.
That's what the people in the city called them, Renegades: walking disasters who bring death and destruction everywhere they go. But the boy knew this to be untrue. His ability helped him determine that. The boy's ability allowed him to view the fates of different people, just by willing it. More often than not, his ability just hijacks his body and forces him to watch their lives. Their happiness, their sadness, their moments of agony and despair, bliss and ecstasy, their defeats and their victories. All of were his just as much as they were theirs. The Renegades, above all, were human, perhaps even more so than those who persecute them. And the boy, whose identity revolved in hiding his true self, longed to be just like them.
The boy laid his head back down his bed, the severe fatigue from using his ability had started to kick in, but he ignored it. He had to seek once more those Renegades, seek once more that lake, and bathe in its serenity.
That's what the people in the city called them, Renegades: walking disasters who bring death and destruction everywhere they go. But the boy knew this to be untrue. His ability helped him determine that. The boy's ability allowed him to view the fates of different people, just by willing it. More often than not, his ability just hijacks his body and forces him to watch their lives. Their happiness, their sadness, their moments of agony and despair, bliss and ecstasy, their defeats and their victories. All of were his just as much as they were theirs. The Renegades, above all, were human, perhaps even more so than those who persecute them. And the boy, whose identity revolved in hiding his true self, longed to be just like them.
The boy laid his head back down his bed, the severe fatigue from using his ability had started to kick in, but he ignored it. He had to seek once more those Renegades, seek once more that lake, and bathe in its serenity.