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THE GIFT OF COLOURS

Author: Adeyiga Adejoke
last update Last Updated: 2025-12-17 21:50:05

YEAR THREE

By age three, Elara's enhancements had crystallized into identifiable pattern that still remained subtle enough to integrate with normal childhood development.

She had enhanced empathic perception, sensing emotional states with unusual accuracy.

"It's a beautiful manifestation," Dr. Torres said during our annual assessment. "Enhanced perception focused on emotional resonance rather than tactical capabilities."

"Is it manageable?" I asked.

"At her current level, it's enriching rather than overwhelming," Dr. Torres replied. "As she gets older, we'll teach conscious regulation, but for now it's integrated naturally."

We'd been preparing for conversations about her enhanced capabilities.

Dr. Torres provided framework emphasizing that everyone had different abilities, some people were naturally athletic or artistic, Elara was naturally good at understanding feelings.

"Start introducing the concept casually," Dr. Torres advised. "When she demonstrates empathic perception
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  • ECHOES OF THE PAST    PLEASE LET HIM SURVIVE

    "Close," Elara said, and the certainty in her voice was chilling. "Getting closer. Like it's looking for me specifically." I wanted to reassure her it was just nightmare, just imagination. But Elara's empathic abilities had proven accurate before. If she sensed consciousness network seeking her, it probably existed. "We're keeping you very safe," I said instead. "Daddy and the Guardians are making sure nothing bad happens." "I know," Elara replied. "But the network isn't bad. It's just... different. And very, very lonely." --- That evening, Elara woke screaming. I reached her room first, finding her tangled in sheets, small body shaking with fear and empathic overwhelm. "The network!" she sobbed. "It's so loud, Mommy. So many voices all wanting, wanting, wanting...." Damian arrived seconds later, his enhanced perception engaging immediately to assess what Elara was sensing. His expression went cold in the way that meant tactical threat assessment had identified serious danger

  • ECHOES OF THE PAST    SECRETS AND LIES

    The Guardian protection detail had transformed our home into a security fortress overnight. Cameras monitored every angle, consciousness sensors tracked supernatural activity within a three-block radius, and two enhanced operatives rotated shifts in an unmarked vehicle across the street. It should have made me feel safer. Instead, it felt like admission that ordinary life had been illusion all along. "Coffee?" I offered Damian the next morning, finding him once again at the kitchen table, laptop open, absorbed in something he minimized quickly when I approached. "Thanks," he said, accepting the mug without meeting my eyes. The evasiveness was back worse than yesterday. Whatever he was working on, he'd decided I didn't need to know about it. "Guardian briefing this morning?" I asked, keeping my tone neutral. "Among other things," he replied vaguely. "Veena wants updated threat assessment. Intelligence is still coming in about Project Reclamation." "Anything I should know?" "N

  • ECHOES OF THE PAST    THE GAME HAD SHIFTED

    I turned to find another parent—a woman about my age, professionally dressed, watching Elara with smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Thank you," I replied with polite caution that was probably just baseline human paranoia. "Does she go to Sunshine Preschool?" the woman asked. "I think I've seen her there." "Sometimes," I said vaguely, not wanting to confirm routine details to stranger. "My daughter goes there too. Mia, she's the one on the slide." The woman gestured to a child who was, indeed, at Sunshine Preschool with Elara. The detail should have been reassuring. Somehow it wasn't. "Elara has such interesting energy," the woman continued. "Very perceptive for her age. Does she have special training? Music classes, maybe? Art therapy?" The questions felt wrong, too specific, too interested in capabilities rather than child herself. But without enhanced perception, I couldn't tell if my unease was justified or just stress-induced paranoia. "Just regular preschool activit

  • ECHOES OF THE PAST    DIVIDED PRIORITIES

    I woke to find Damian's side of the bed cold, not recently vacated, but hours empty. The bedside clock read 6:47 AM, and judging by the state of the sheets, he'd never come to bed at all. Downstairs, I found him at the kitchen table, laptop open, surrounded by notes and photographs. He was so focused he didn't hear me approach, his enhanced perception entirely dedicated to whatever was on the screen. "Did you sleep at all?" I asked. He startled unusual for someone with supernatural awareness. "Few hours on the couch. Didn't want to wake you." "What are you working on?" His hand moved to close the laptop, then stopped halfway. The gesture was telling instinctive concealment followed by recognition that hiding things from his wife was problematic. "Guardian consultation," he said, which wasn't exactly a lie but felt like one anyway. "Following up on some intelligence from last night." "About the safehouse?" I prompted, pouring coffee. "Among other things." He closed the laptop f

  • ECHOES OF THE PAST    LOSING ELARA

    "Okay," Elara agreed with the easy compliance of four-year-old who didn't understand why adults were suddenly serious. I took a photo of the drawing and texted it to Damian with message: "Elara's been sensing surveillance for days. Drew this today. We need to talk." His response was immediate: "Coming home now." While waiting, I studied the drawing more carefully. The figure Elara had depicted was positioned exactly where professional surveillance would be, sight line to multiple rooms, concealment from direct observation, optimal viewing angle. Details a child shouldn't know intuitively but empathic perception wasn't limited to emotions. It sensed consciousness patterns, intentions, the shape of awareness itself. Elara had perceived not just the watcher's presence, but their strategic positioning. My daughter's abilities were more sophisticated than I'd realized and without enhancement of my own, I was fundamentally limited in understanding or protecting her from what she coul

  • ECHOES OF THE PAST    THE CONSILIENT SHADOW

    "Guardian security protocols include twenty-four-hour surveillance, rotating protection detail, and restricted movement for all family members," Veena explained through the video call, her professional demeanor barely masking concern. "Given the explicit threat to Elara, we're recommending immediate implementation." "No," I said before Damian could respond. "Absolutely not." Veena's expression shifted to surprise. "Aria, someone is actively threatening your daughter..." "I understand that," I interrupted. "But we can't live in fear forever. We can't turn our home into fortress every time someone makes threat. That's exactly what they want, to control us through fear." "They want to hurt our daughter," Damian said sharply. "Everything else is secondary to preventing that." "Is it?" I challenged. "Because living under constant Guardian surveillance, restricting Elara's movement, treating every shadow as potential threat—that hurts her too. Just differently." "Better frightened t

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