Skylar

Sitting down, I notice the silver shimmer in my eyes reflected in a small puddle—a stark reminder of who, of what, I am. It's not just my powers changing; it's me. Every day brings a new weight, a new struggle. This fatigue isn't normal weariness; it's a sign of something deeper. An unease settles in my stomach, mixing with frustration at my body's betrayal.

Yet, beneath it all is a thread of determination. I can't afford to crumble, not when so much relies on my ...