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THE WEDDING DAY
Last Updated:
2025-12-14 23:39:49
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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
ECHOES OF THE PAST THE END
Dear Reader,Thank you for reading all through the season one.I really appreciate your support and gifts during this season one.I hope and look forward to your support in the coming seasons. Thank you I love you Regards-----------THE END (SEASON One)TO BE CONTINUED (SEASON Two)-----------Excerpts from season TwoThere was something powerful about building space through mundane effort. No enhancement required. No special abilities. Just manual labor and aesthetic choices."Dr. Cole?" A voice interrupted my furniture assembly. A woman stood in the doorway, professional attire and nervous smile. "I'm Jennifer Morrison. I'm here for the receptionist interview?""I'm baseline human," she said directly. "Is that going to be problem? Will your clients want someone who understands enhancement firsthand?""I'm baseline human too now," I replied. "Lost my abilities two years ago. I think that might actually be advantage—clients can speak freely without worrying we're reading their con
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