Chapter 2: A Glimpse Behind the Veil

The cool evening air was a balm to Sera’s aching eyes, a welcome reprieve from the hospital’s sterile, punishing light. Above them, the sky had deepened into a velvety indigo, early stars blinking through the haze like shy observers. It was late evening, and the city hummed faintly in the distance, its rhythm indifferent to her existence.

Brenda walked ahead, her olive trench coat sweeping around her legs as she exited the hospital doors. Sera followed, slower, wrapped tightly in the unfamiliar denim jacket like it might shield her from the world. The fabric still felt alien, a reminder of a life she couldn't grasp.

At the curb, she faltered. Her voice came softly and barely more than a whisper. “Why… why did you want me to come with you?” She shifted awkwardly, eyes lowered. “Wouldn’t I be safer with CPS? They’re… they’re supposed to help kids like me, right?” The question hung between them, unsure and hesitant, a mixture of fear and fragile doubt.

Brenda turned, her eyes locking onto Sera's. In the dim light, her green gaze, sharp and direct behind the transparent lenses of her stylish glasses, felt unsettlingly focused.

“Safer?” she repeated, voice tinged with a dry scoff. Then, more serious: “Not for someone like you. You’re a Muser.”

Sera blinked, the word strange and foreign on her tongue. It resonated with the bizarre surge of power she’d felt, yet remained utterly incomprehensible. “A… Muser?” she echoed.

“Mental user,” Brenda clarified, her voice matter-of-fact. “Someone who can project a part of their mind into the real world. We call it an Image.” She glanced down the street, briefly scanning the shadows, then looked back at Sera. Her tone lowered, growing cautious.

“We don’t advertise what we are. People wouldn’t understand. They’d fear you—maybe even destroy you. Governments would try to control you. Scientists would dissect your mind just to find out what makes you different. And the public?” She exhaled. “They’d either worship you… or hate you.” A subtle tightening around Brenda's jaw suggested these weren't just theories, but hard-won truths.

Her voice took on a sharper edge. “And that’s just the surface. There are others like us—powerful, territorial Musers. Some might see you as an opportunity. Others as a threat. You’re untrained, vulnerable, and far too visible right now. If word gets out about what you did at the hospital…”

Sera’s throat tightened. Her arms curled in tighter around herself, her gaze dropping to the sidewalk. Her mind reeled, grappling with the impossible truth. Not crazy, then. Something else. Something dangerous. She didn’t reply. She didn’t know how.

Then, a thought, sharp and unbidden, cut through her fear. Her eyes lifted, fixing on Brenda. "But... if Musers live in secrecy," Sera began, her voice a hesitant whisper, "how did you move like that? Through the glass? In a hospital full of cameras? Wouldn't they see you?" The question hung in the cool evening air, an unexpected challenge.

Brenda paused, a flicker of surprise in her sharp green eyes before a faint, approving smile touched her lips. "That's a very good question, Sera," she conceded, the first hint of genuine warmth in her tone. "And no, they didn't. My Image, Looking Glass, can manipulate reflection. That means I can manipulate light itself, enough to blind CCTV cameras for a brief moment, or simply make what they see unreadable. It's how we operate under the radar."

Brenda then turned and unlocked the black sedan parked nearby. The soft click echoed louder than expected.

Sera hesitated before stepping forward, her steps tentative. The leather seat inside the car felt cold against her legs. The air smelled clean, faintly metallic.

Brenda slid into the driver’s seat beside her. The engine came to life with a quiet purr. They drove in silence for several blocks. The city's vibrant neon slowly faded behind them, replaced by the hushed glow of older, less-trafficked streets. The hum of traffic gave way to a quieter, more distant thrum, as if they were leaving the known world behind. Sera felt a strange mix of apprehension and a nascent sense of security, driven by Brenda's calm, deliberate movements.

“Where are we going?” Sera finally ventured, her voice barely a whisper against the quiet purr of the engine. She hadn’t realized how tense she’d been until the words finally escaped.

Brenda’s eyes stayed on the road, her voice calm and measured. “You’ll be staying at my office. It’s quiet, off-grid—no one’s going to bother you there.” She paused. “We’ll figure out who you are and uncover your past. But until then…” Her voice softened slightly. “…you’re with me.”

“So… what exactly is… an Image?” Sera asked again, her voice quieter than before.

Brenda’s eyes stayed on the road, her voice calm and measured. “An Image is a mental projection. Not magic. Not spirit. It’s the manifestation of your mental state—your memories, thoughts, emotions, even subconsciousness. It takes form outside of you… but it’s still you.” A brief pause. “Mine is Looking Glass. Yours is… Little by Little, correct?”

Sera nodded faintly. She wasn’t sure why that name had come to her but only thought that it had felt right. She remembered the shimmer, the way Brenda's ethereal entity had slipped through glass. Looking Glass. It was a name that resonated with the impossibility she’d witnessed, a power that bent reality. And LbL... her own shimmering phantom. It was more than a hallucination; it was a part of her, a part she hadn't known existed. “But… it’s not real?” she asked, more to herself than Brenda.

Brenda glanced her way. “It’s real,” she said gently. “Just not in a way the world is used to. It’s you… reflected back.”

Sera turned toward the window, watching the streetlights streak by in golden lines. Her reflection shimmered faintly in the glass. For a fleeting moment, it looked… off. Like static. Like a glitch. She blinked, and it was gone. Was it just her exhaustion, or had her own Image, LbL, been trying to show itself even then?

Sera said nothing, only nodded. She still didn’t know what she was. Or why she had no past. But for now, this stranger, Brenda, was the only person who saw her as something more than lost. For the first time since waking, a faint, fragile thread of hope unspooled within her, tethering her to this uncertain future.

The car rolled deeper into the city. She glanced at the window again, unsure whether to trust what she’d seen. Her reflection stared back, pale and still. Unmoving.