Ariana woke up before her alarm, heart racing, a sharp pain pulsing behind her eyes. She'd had another strange dream… one where she wasn't alone. Someone else was breathing with her, speaking with her voice, walking in her steps.
And the worst part:
It felt real.
She sat up slowly, running a shaky hand across her damp forehead.
"No… not again," she whispered.
For weeks now, anytime she felt stressed, she heard an echo in her mind—thoughts she didn't remember thinking, confidence she didn't possess, impulses that terrified her.
Nova.
That name didn't exist for her yet… but something inside her was already moving with intention, with strength, with hunger.
Throughout the day, Ariana tried her best to act normal, though everything felt heavier. She misplaced her keys, mixed up her schedule, and couldn't keep her focus for more than a few seconds.
But the strangest part was the sensation of sharing her own body.
Every time she looked in a mirror, she noticed something off. A spark in her expression that wasn't hers. A smile that felt a little too confident.
And then it happened.
During class, when she tried to answer a simple question, her voice trembled—like it always did—but the moment she opened her mouth…
A different voice came out.
Steady. Sharp. Fearless.
"The answer is 47. Because the variables don't match the slope rule."
Her classmates stared. Ariana blinked. She would've never spoken like that.
Not without stuttering. Not without fear.
Warmth spread through her chest, as if something inside her had pushed forward.
"Let me handle it."
The phrase echoed through her mind.
Ariana dropped her pencil.
"No… no…" she whispered under her breath.
Because that wasn't her.
It wasn't possible.
That night, things only got worse.
She tried journaling to calm her thoughts, but her hand refused to cooperate. Every word she wrote came out shaky, and every sentence she tried to form got crossed out—replaced by handwriting that wasn't hers.
A sharper script. Confident. Almost ruthless.
"You're weak. I'm not."
Ariana flinched, launching the pen across the room. Her breathing grew ragged as she pressed her palms against her chest, feeling something tugging inside her, pulling tight.
"Leave me alone…" she begged.
A soft laugh echoed in her mind. Not imagined. Not her own thought.
Someone else's.
"Alone? That's cute. But you and I… we're just getting started."
Ariana stared at her trembling hands, and this time, she couldn't deny the truth:
Something inside her was waking up.
And it wasn't interested in sharing.