Angel stared at the burn mark on her hand.
It hadn't faded.
It hadn't even dimmed.
It was still there—
glowing faintly.
Alive.
Real.
Her breath slowed, uneven at first… then heavier.
The world around her felt distant.
Blurred.
Then—
it all came back.
Fire.
Smoke.
Screams.
Her school.
Angel took a step back.
Her fingers trembled.
"That accident…"
Her chest tightened painfully.
A wave of exhaustion crashed over her without warning.
Her head felt heavy—
as if her thoughts were too much to hold together.
Fragments.
Pieces.
Nothing complete.
"Why…?" she whispered.
Her voice barely existed.
"Why is all this happening to me…?"
Silence answered her.
Cold. Empty silence.
"Before this…" she continued, her voice breaking,
"I was just a normal girl…"
A tear slipped down her cheek.
"With a normal life…"
Her gaze dropped to her hand again.
The mark.
The glow.
The truth she couldn't deny.
"But now…"
Her lips trembled.
"I'm not…"
Her breathing grew uneven.
Sharp. Unstable.
"Everything is changing… and I don't even know who I am anymore…"
The room felt smaller.
Quieter.
Heavier.
Then—
a voice.
Soft.
Familiar.
"Everything has a connection…"
Angel froze.
Her eyes widened slightly.
Her heartbeat skipped.
"Only courage can help you understand it…"
"…Grandma?"
The word escaped her before she could stop it.
But there was nothing.
No figure.
No memory.
No face.
Just… echoes.
Fading into silence.
Angel stood still for a long moment.
Not moving.
Not thinking.
Just… feeling.
Then slowly—
she turned.
And walked toward the mirror.
She stopped in front of it.
Looked at her reflection.
Long hair.
Soft.
Familiar.
The same face she had seen her whole life.
And yet—
it didn't feel like her anymore.
"…Who are you?" she whispered.
Her fingers lifted slowly—
running through her hair.
Soft strands slipped between them.
Comforting.
Familiar.
But wrong.
The girl in the mirror…
felt like a stranger.
"I'm not her anymore…"
Her hand dropped.
Then slowly—
she reached for something on the table.
A pair of scissors.
Her fingers wrapped around them.
Tight.
Uncertain.
Her hand trembled.
Stopped.
A flash—
Lightning tearing through the sky.
A dark tunnel.
A sword in her hand.
Power.
Fear.
Something awakening.
Her grip tightened.
Her eyes sharpened.
"No more…"
✂️ Snip.
A lock of hair fell.
Silence.
Then—
another.
And another.
Piece by piece—
the old Angel disappeared.
Strands fell to the floor like fragments of a past she could no longer return to.
Her breathing slowed.
Steadier now.
Stronger.
When she finished—
her hair was shorter.
Sharper.
Different.
She lifted her head.
Looked into the mirror again.
This time—
she didn't look away.
She wiped the tears from her face.
Not gently.
Not weakly.
With decision.
Then she turned.
Changed her clothes.
Not her usual ones.
Not for school.
Not for the life she used to live.
For something else.
Something unknown.
Something waiting.
Angel glanced at her hand again.
The mark still glowed faintly.
Quiet.
Patient.
"I don't know who I am yet…"
She took a slow, steady breath.
Her voice didn't shake this time.
"But I'll find out."