THE ASCENSION SYSTEM

CHAPTER 21

The Unstable Power

The world wasn’t supposed to bend like this.

I reached out, my fingers hovering inches above the glass of water on the table. I concentrated, feeling that strange, pulling sensation deep in my chest. The air around my hand hummed, electric, like the universe itself was holding its breath.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then the glass flickered—vanished—reappeared a foot to the right, teetering on the edge.

"Not bad," I muttered.

The next second, the entire table snapped out of existence.

I gasped, my balance tipping forward as the space where it once stood was now empty air. I stumbled, barely catching myself before hitting the floor. My stomach churned. The chair beside me flickered, as if it couldn't decide whether it existed or not, before vanishing completely.

I forced a slow breath through my teeth.

"Okay, that wasn’t supposed to happen."

A slow clap echoed behind me.

I turned, already bracing for the unimpressed stare. Kane stood in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes sharp with something between amusement and frustration.

"Impressive," she said, though her tone suggested the opposite. "At this rate, you’ll erase the entire room by the end of the hour."

I scowled. "I’m still getting the hang of it."

"You don’t ‘get the hang’ of something like this, Tony." Kane stepped forward, her movements precise, like she was walking through a minefield only she could see. "You either control it, or it controls you."

"I am controlling it."

Kane tilted her head. "Really?"

I opened my mouth to argue—only to feel it again. That pull, that wrongness, deep inside me. I turned sharply, and my breath caught.

The far wall rippled, like a mirage in the desert heat. For a split second, I thought I saw something beyond it—dark, endless—but then the world snapped back into place, the wall solid again.

My hands clenched.

Kane sighed. "You felt it, didn’t you?"

I swallowed. "What the hell was that?"

Kane studied me for a moment. Then, instead of answering, she lifted her hand and snapped her fingers.

Everything shifted.

The room warped. The air grew thick, pressing down on me like an unseen weight. My vision blurred, and for one terrifying second, I felt thin. Like I wasn’t fully here anymore. Like I was being pulled apart, thread by thread.

Then, as quickly as it came, the feeling vanished.

I gasped, stumbling back. My hands shot out, gripping the back of the couch for support.

"What—what the hell was that?" My voice came out hoarse.

"Erasure," Kane said simply. "You keep messing with forces you don’t understand, and one day, that feeling won’t go away. One day, you won’t come back."

My pulse pounded.

"You’re lying," I shot back, even though something inside me whispered that she wasn’t.

Kane’s lips twitched in something almost resembling pity. "Am I?"

I took a shaky breath, forcing my hands to steady. "I just need more practice."

"Practice?" Kane barked a short, humorless laugh. "You think this is like learning to juggle? This isn’t a skill, Tony. It’s a responsibility. And if you keep playing with it like a child with a loaded gun, you’re going to get yourself erased from existence."

I gritted my teeth. "Then tell me what I need to do."

Kane studied me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, finally, she spoke.

"You need to stop," she said. "At least until you understand what you’re dealing with."

"I am trying to understand!" Frustration bubbled up inside me. "But you keep feeding me half-truths and cryptic warnings like I’m supposed to figure it all out on my own!"

Kane’s jaw tightened. "Because some things aren’t meant to be spelled out for you, Tony. Some things you have to realize for yourself."

I exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down my face. "Then at least tell me about The Overseers."

Kane went still.

I didn’t miss the flicker of something—hesitation, maybe even fear—in her eyes.

"You don’t want to know," she said quietly.

I let out a hollow laugh. "Too late for that."

Kane didn’t respond right away. Instead, she turned slightly, looking past me, as if weighing her words. Then, after a long pause, she spoke.

"They watch," she said. "They correct."

I frowned. "Correct what?"

Her gaze flickered back to mine. "Mistakes. Anomalies. People who disrupt the natural flow of things."

A cold feeling slithered down my spine.

I knew where this was going.

"You mean people like me."

Kane didn’t answer.

My chest tightened. "So what, they just—what? Make people disappear? Rewrite reality?"

Kane’s silence was answer enough.

A bitter taste filled my mouth. "And you waited until now to tell me?"

"You weren’t ready to know."

I let out a sharp breath, shaking my head. "Great. Just great. So not only do I have powers I can’t control, but there are people—things—out there that will erase me if I screw up?"

Kane’s voice was flat. "Not if, Tony. When."

I swallowed hard.

"You don’t believe me now," Kane continued, "but you will. Sooner or later, they’ll come looking. And when they do, you’ll understand why I told you to stop."

Something inside me twisted.

Because the worst part?

I did believe her.

I just didn’t know if it even mattered anymore.

The room flickered again. The chair beside me was back—but this time, it wasn’t exactly the same. The shape was slightly off, the wood darker, the edges sharper.

Like it had never truly left.

Like it had been replaced.

I felt a chill crawl up my spine.

I turned to Kane, but her expression had shifted—her face unreadable, her form flickering—

And then she was gone.