Innate ability.
It's a capacity one possesses from birth, requiring no learning or practice. It's congenitally encoded in the user's body, specifically in the right prefrontal cortex of the brain.
Most Ascendants are born with an innate ability that manifests after undergoing the awakening.
That was the only reason I could think of for there being an artifact in this orphanage that nullified teleportation, making it absolutely impossible for anyone to escape. Such a specific device could only exist if the captors had previously faced someone with that power.
I realized it a long time ago. The question that always tormented me: How would I spend the rest of my life here?
When I discovered the terrible truth, I was about to turn five. At most, I had nine or ten years left in this place before becoming food for those monsters. Ten years of false security before the inevitable end.
Since then, I had been preparing meticulously. I understood perfectly that the number of lives I could save would be limited. That was the harsh reality of this world, a world that didn't forgive weakness or reward compassion.
"We won't leave anyone behind."
It was an ideal dream, beautiful but empty words in this nightmare hell.
The reason I had given up until recently. But precisely because of that… I wanted to believe in Cassie. In her unshakable optimism, in her contagious hope.
I wanted to believe it was possible to take all the children, even though I had initially refused outright, fearing that all the work I had put into developing this plan over five years would be wasted. Pragmatism had always been my refuge, my shield against despair.
I watched as my words had the effect I expected. Cassie lifted her head and looked at me with her bright crimson eyes, visibly paling as she realized I wasn't joking. The color drained from her face like blood from a fresh wound.
For his part, Reinhardt clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white. The only outward sign of the storm surely raging within him.
—How do you know? —Cassie asked, her face darkened, her voice barely a whisper, as if she feared the walls could hear us.
—I read it in a diary —I replied calmly. It was true; I had known since I found and deciphered that diary hidden in the cracks of this hell.
That was enough to make Reinhardt stop his thoughts entirely. He sat on the bed to my left, next to mine, frowning as he looked at me with evident skepticism.
—You're telling me such critical information comes from a simple diary, and you expect me to believe it? —His voice dripped with distrust, something I couldn't blame him for. In this place, trust was a luxury we could rarely afford.
Cassie narrowed her eyes dangerously, as if my attitude frustrated her. Her cheeks puffed out, and her lower lip protruded in a slight pout. Despite everything she had been through, she sometimes still showed those childish gestures that reminded me that, after all, we were still children. Children trapped in a terrible game of monstrous adults.
I understood that she didn't find it funny that I was playing with them at that moment; after all, the mass teleportation scroll was truly our only hope. The last ray of light in this endless darkness.
I shrugged indifferently. Seeing my calm attitude, Cassie began to relax little by little. I cleared my throat before continuing:
—Don't misunderstand me, guys. The diary I read—which, by the way, was written in a coded language—explained on one of its pages that, before us, there was a group of children who discovered the truth about the orphanage.
Cassie collapsed onto my bed, bringing her hand to her forehead, lost in her thoughts. The magnitude of the revelation seemed to have hit her like a gigantic wave, sweeping away her hopes.
It was logical to assume there had been others before us; this orphanage seemed to be decades or even centuries old. Its walls had witnessed countless tragedies, broken dreams, and crushed hopes.
Predecessor children who tried to escape but ultimately couldn't overcome this terrible reality. It made sense that they had left vital information encoded for future generations, hoping someone could escape. A final act of rebellion against their captors.
—So, what did the diary say? —Reinhardt asked, crossing his arms, his calm voice contrasting with the visible tension in his shoulders.
I raised my right hand as I explained:
—When they tried to escape, they discovered that the orphanage had a hidden room and that in that room there was an artifact capable of nullifying teleportation spells.
Reinhardt's face hardened instantly upon hearing my statement. His eyes narrowed, quickly calculating the implications of this new information.
—There's a secret room… In this house? But… how is it possible that children managed to cast a teleportation spell?
Cassie blinked and looked at me open-mouthed, as if doing mental calculations. Her question was valid and logical. In this world where they kept us ignorant, such abilities seemed impossible.
—Cassie, it's no coincidence that you found the medallion —I told her, noticing how her hands trembled slightly on the sheets—. Though the book didn't mention it, which is why I didn't recognize it when I saw it, it said one of the children had the ability to teleport. Your medallion must have been discovered first by one of them.
I watched her closely, surprised by her reaction. She seemed focused on something else. I expected her to react dramatically, as she usually did, but instead, she threw her head back and, staring at the bedroom ceiling, let out a long sigh.
—And besides the artifact, what exactly was in that room? —she asked, suddenly sitting up and flashing a small smile without looking directly at me.
It was obvious there had to be a reason why our predecessors failed even after having a magic scroll in their hands. A smart question that revealed her ability to see beyond the obvious.
—What was there was a monster —I replied in a neutral tone, though I felt a chill run down my spine as I recalled the diary's description.
—A monster? —My indifferent response made Cassie bite her lips, turning pale as she curled up and clutched her head.
—Aaagghhh! You're scaring me —she groaned, hugging herself as if trying to protect herself from an invisible threat.
I sighed at her reaction. Though her personality had matured a bit after discovering the truth, she was still a fearful child. A child forced to grow up too fast in this nightmare world.
—What kind of monster? —Reinhardt asked, making me look at him intently. His voice was firm, determined to know the whole truth, no matter how terrible.
—A monster with the ability to alter memory —I replied, feeling the weight of the words on my tongue.
Upon hearing this, Reinhardt took a deep breath. The magnitude of what we were facing finally became clear to him.
—So… The reason our predecessors couldn't escape was because… —he began, connecting the dots with that quick thinking I had always admired in him.
—Yes —I interrupted—, it's most likely that the monster altered their memories while they were trying to locate the artifact.
—This changes everything… —Cassie murmured, her head bowed, defeat evident in every line of her body—. Why didn't you tell us before?
—Because it wasn't relevant until now —I replied indifferently, letting out another sigh—. I didn't want to worry you more until it was absolutely necessary. Besides, I know where the hidden room is.
Reinhardt suddenly stood from the bed next to mine, his face lighting up with a spark of hope.
—I assume you know from the diary, right?
—That's right —I nodded to confirm.
—Then… What we should be worrying about now is… —Reinhardt couldn't finish the sentence, as if he feared giving voice to what we were all thinking.
—Disabling the artifact —Cassie's cheerful voice interrupted, hope shining again in her eyes, defying all logic and reason—. You know what you have to do, right?