chapter 1: the origin of speed

A normal life, for a goddess who could cross the universe in a single breath

The hospital of white ashes.

The city doesn’t know.

She walks past shop windows, terraces, crowded trams, and no one turns their head, no one guesses what hides behind those fiery red eyes, calm and gentle all at once. No one hears what her voice murmurs to the patients a deep, slow voice, resting outside of time.

Here, dana noctielle is not a legend, not an entity, not an anomaly.

She is a doctor.

Not a surgeon, not a researcher, just… a doctor.

The kind who sits, who takes her time, who listens, who understands.

— "Mr. valen, you’ve been running too much… your heart isn’t as fast as you think it is."

She says it with a kind smile, placing a cool hand on the trembling wrist of a breathless old man.

Then she leans a bit farther.

— "And you, Mrs. ji? You skipped meals again to take care of your grandchildren, didn’t you?"

Her tone isn’t scolding. It’s a gentle tease. And when she smiles, really smiles, it’s not the smile of a demoness.

It’s the smile of dana, the woman, the memory, the breath.

A life in order… too slow?

Every morning, dana dresses with precision.

Always in red — but not a loud red. a soft bordeaux, nearly modest. Her hair tied with care, her thin glasses resting on her nose with the delicacy that says, "i’m here, but i don’t take up space."

Everything in her seems human.

And yet…

Each morning, in the break room, she sits with her tea and watches the pale walls and the clock’s hands.

She sees them slow down, stretch, like cosmic chewing gum. The world here doesn’t spin at her pace. It spins at hers.

But she doesn’t complain.

She chose this life.

Not to flee. Not to hide. To remember.

— "Before i became speed, i was a heartbeat. Before i became a storm, i was a breath."

She murmurs that, one evening, alone in the empty halls of the hospital.

A past that moves in silence.

Sometimes, at night, dana climbs to the roof.

She closes the door behind her, removes her glasses, unties her hair.

She looks at the city, far below.

And she runs.

Not fast. Not to escape. Just to feel.

To feel the ground under her feet. the world moving around her. as if it still wanted to be real for her.

She runs in circles on the rooftop, between the gravel and antennas.

And she breathes.

— "I was born from a cry, a flash, a need."

She half-smiles.

— "kael needed speed… so i was born."

She laughs softly.

— "But now… i need slowness."

Her laughter doesn’t rise to the stars. It bows to the silence.

But one evening…

A strange noise breaks the quiet.

An alarm. voices on the radios. An ambulance that doesn’t come. a crash. wounded people.

Too many screams. too much chaos.

And in that instant… she forgets.

She doesn’t wait. doesn’t take the stairs. doesn’t think to put her glasses back on.

She crosses space.

A red flash cuts through the city.

Not a light. not a storm’s lightning.

A living vector.

In less than a second, the wounded are in the nurses’ arms.
The bleeding is stopped. The fractures stabilized. The bodies moved gently.

Then…

She returns.

Calmly.

Without rushing.

She walks into the room, tucks a rebellious lock behind her ear, puts her glasses back on.

Her breath is steady. but her heart… beats.

She smiles.

— "Sorry… i was just at the coffee machine."

And no one asks.

Later, alone in her office, dana looks at the window.

In the glass, she sees herself.

Her red eyes shine.

Not much. But just enough.

Enough to remind that beneath the doctor… there is a goddess.

A force born of need. An incarnation of motion. a storm contained in one word: live.

She whispers:

— "I wanted a normal life…"

Then, softer:

— "But even a goddess needs to run, sometimes."

end of chapter 1 – the origin of speed