《Reborn: Phantom Code》Chapter 1 Part 1: Steven/Michael PoV
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Waking up to heat, smoke, and the crackling sound of flames was not what I was expecting when I agreed to be reborn. I also didn’t expect to wake up in a light blue room decorated with rainbows and a wall of children’s books next to what I would term antique classics. My head hurt as memories from the past few years merged with what I already knew from my previous life. I realized that I had a lack of memories, which the reason was confirmed when I caught a glimpse in the mirror. I only had so few memories in this new life because I was eight years old. I couldn’t stop the curse that came out of my mouth, “Shit.”
I could see a haze of smoke in the air, and knew I didn’t have time to properly process what I knew as a child. I had to get out of the building fast, but I had to check something first and that was the state of my parents in this life. I could feel sweat beading on my forehead so I caught a few drops and flicked them at the door knob to my room. ‘Okay, no sizzling, so let's test this’ I thought as I tapped the back of my hand against the handle. It was warm, but not to the level of even a hot bath. That meant the ambient temperature was up, but there shouldn’t be much if any fire on the other side. Just in case I grabbed what looked like a dirty sock off the floor and used it to twist the doorknob. Keeping low and to the side was a good idea as a rush of smokey air blasted in.
I dropped to my knees on instinct, my eyes burning and watering from the smoke. Crawling down the vague memory of the apartment we lived in I looked in and saw an empty bedroom that belonged to my mother. I didn’t bother looking for my father as I could recall him passing away the year before on the other side of the world in a war I didn’t even remember from my previous life. I turned and moved toward the living room where I froze in shock. My mother was laying on the carpet face down, blood drying from the heat, and a large very recognizable hole in the back of her head. Instincts from my bloody past kicked in and I rolled to hide behind the kitchen island and focused on the scene. The blood had already coagulated due to the heat, but I knew that just sped it up. Reaching inside myself I sought out the feeling of magic like I had once done and breathed a sigh of relief that it was still present. I had been told that one of the boons I would receive was that my previous magical affinity would be bound to my soul, and would remain regardless of the affinity the body I was born in possessed. I had no time to inscribe runes or create a focus for this specific spell, but it felt like I could manage it briefly. I chanted an incantation to help me focus, “Mea magica et voluntate, oculi mei historiam mortis huius videant.”
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Ghostly images formed in the smoke, showing my mother sitting on the couch. I had only focused on sight instead of including sound so it would be less draining, but I knew she had heard something when I saw her head whip to the side and she moved towards the door. She stepped out for a few seconds before she came running back in heading towards the drawer she kept my father’s gun in. Before she made it, another shadowy figure appeared in the doorway, arm extended, and shot her from behind. I saw him walk back towards where the bedrooms were and then walk back out of the apartment a few seconds later. Roughly a minute after he did that the spectre of myself came out and I cut off the flow of magic.
“Active, life threatening situation,” I muttered, “Who the fuck would expect a situation like this would happen. Death, Judgment, if either of you can hear me. Does this even count?”
To my utter shock the sandy haired boy appeared, sitting cross legged on the kitchen counter, and said, “Technically it does. The man chose not to end your life, but at the time your memories were activated he was aiming that pistol at you in your bed. My sisters were a little annoyed with me about not letting them wake you so that you had the chance to go on living.”
“I’m a bit surprised you actually answered,” I said.
“Waking you would have affected the choices of both yourself and the one who threatened you. I thought an explanation would be balanced as you were told you should not have your memories until you were an adult,” he replied.
“Thank you,” I said, “I guess I should assume you can’t help me get out of here safely.”
He shook his head, “No, we told you we would not interfere in your life. Though my sister did say she may stop by in a decade or so for that dinner you offered.”
I smirked, bowing my head to the Aspect. When I raised my head he had disappeared. I also noticed that the smoke was getting thicker, which meant I really needed to get a move on and get out of here. The fire was going to destroy most of the evidence so I wasn’t too worried about rushing past the corpse and grabbing my shoes from near the door and quickly sliding them on. The velcro “laces” were odd, but easily figured out. The glow of fire and the head in the air clearly indicated the hallway was a bad idea, but this new childhood's memories told me what I needed to do. Rushing back to my mother’s room I slid her window open and climbed out onto the fire escape. The air outside wasn’t much better, and I could see the flashing lights and hear the sirens from firefighters.
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I was about to rush down when I heard a scream from above me and I heard metal snapping. Whipping my head upwards I saw the railing on the next up part of the fire escape break and a small body begin to lose their balance. My magic surged through me in unconscious need and I could feel my perception slow. The body of a pajama clad child slipped and began falling and I moved, hands and body shifting to the angle that would give me the best chances of catching them before they fell too far. One arm reached through the rails while the other reached above, fists clenched pajamas of a soft material that a part of my mind catalogued as silk before my slowed perceptions were shocked out of their slowed time by the wrenching pain as I was slammed into the railing and my arms strained to hold on. I snarled out, “Grab the bars, quickly!”
I felt the strain lessen and I opened my eyes to view a pale faced girl with a button nose and rich green eyes staring at me from the other side of grimey metal bars. I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold onto the silk material for long in this body as I didn’t have the strength built up for heavy exertion. That worry was removed however when I felt a heavy body move behind me on the landing and then saw a pair of large legs on either side of my small body. Meaty calloused hands reached down, grabbed the girl under her shoulders, and lifted her from my grip; a small whimper escaping me as the motion jostled my shoulder. A deep, but surprisingly kind, voice spoke behind me, with a hint of an accent my brain struggled to place, “Are you okay lad?”
Gingerly I let my magic flow through the shoulder, the magic moving sluggishly after the use I had already put it through, and could feel it move freely. I replied softly, “My arms hurt, but I can move them.”
A hand ruffled my hair, and the voice said, “Strong and brave even as a bairn. Let’s get out of here and we will try and find your mum.”
It was the word, bairn, that placed the man in my memories of this life. Sean Murdock, a man who lived with his daughter two floors up. He used to play professional football until he retired after a bad leg injury. I followed the two down the stairs to the bottom level of the fire escape and watched as Sean lowered the ladder to the ground before he went down, his daughter tucked against him as he used a single hand on the side of the ladder to guide his steps. My own descent was painful as the strained muscles in my arms screamed as I used them. When I reached the ground the ex-athletes strong hand rested on my back and guided me towards the alley exit and the waiting firefighters.
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