The dim light gradually faded, and a silent moan filled the room after the explosion.
Everyone stood in shock, their eyes fixed on Nariman, still standing at the center of the destruction, her white hair fluttering gently, a strange gleam passing through her eyes.
She didn't move for a moment, then… a broad smile spread across her lips — not an ordinary smile, but one carrying a hint of strange pleasure, or dark exhilaration.
She spoke in a calm, measured voice, unsettling in its composure:
"I will fix the house."
Silence fell, everyone staring at her in astonishment.
Even her father, Adam, felt a shiver run through his body; this was not her usual tone, nor her gaze, nor even her posture.
Suddenly, he realized what she intended to do and shouted in a trembling voice:
"Nariman!! Don't do that!"
But his voice came too late.
Nariman lifted her hand lightly, and fragments of wood and stone flew into the air, swirling in a vortex of pure energy. In moments, the destroyed house began to reconstruct itself — walls fused, glass returned to its frame, and the floor evened out as if untouched.
Adam froze in place, staring at the scene with wide eyes, unable to believe what he was seeing.
He whispered to himself, voice choked:
"This… is impossible…"
Then he screamed with all the fear and astonishment he could muster:
"Nariman!!!"
The girl suddenly jolted, as if waking from a heavy dream. The gleam in her eyes faded, her hair settled quietly on her shoulders, and she looked around in confusion.
"Dad… what?"
Adam sat on the edge of the bed, then slowly collapsed onto it, burying his face in his hands. His breaths were heavy, his chest rising and falling slowly. He seemed utterly exhausted — not just physically, but internally, from something deep gnawing at his mind.
He remained silent, lost, trying to comprehend what had just happened.
Nariman stood a few steps away, her gaze shifting between worry and guilt.
She took a small step, whispering to herself barely audibly:
"What have I done…? Was it wrong to use my power?"
Her memory returned to the chaotic moment… they had all been in danger, and all she wanted was to help.
"But they were in trouble… they won't be angry, right?"
She lifted her eyes hesitantly toward them.
Everyone was silent.
Their gazes were different from before — fear was evident on their faces, even the little ones. No one dared approach her.
Her features tightened with sorrow, her hand resting on her chest, feeling a growing, painful pressure, as if the very air around her was tightening.
She lowered her head, staring at the floor to avoid their eyes, then…
She noticed something by her father's feet.
A small, carefully folded piece of paper — the paper she thought she had hidden well.
Her eyes widened in panic, freezing in place.
Nariman muttered in a trembling voice, her face paling further:
"Oh God… no… please… don't let him see…"
Barwin noticed the quiver in her gaze and slowly turned, following her line of sight.
Then Adam slowly raised his head, his eyes wandering until they settled on the paper lying by his foot.
Nariman froze in place, her face as pale as if life had left it.
Barwin stepped toward Adam with steady steps, saying nothing, his expression unchanged.
He stood before him, then stepped on the paper with his foot without looking, and in a fleeting moment, the paper dissolved completely, as if it had never been there.
Adam slowly lifted his gaze to him, his eyebrows furrowing, a faint suspicion creeping into his eyes.
He said nothing, yet his silence was heavy as a sword.
Between them, a long… tense, uneasy moment passed.
Then Barwin calmly turned his face aside as if nothing had happened, leaving Adam immersed in confusion and doubt.
Adam stood quickly, his sharp breaths filling the space, then pushed Barwin back forcefully, eager to see what he was hiding.
Barwin stopped, his gaze calm and unwavering, but Adam found nothing beneath his feet. He scanned the area with his eyes, then gave Barwin one last sharp, cold warning look, as if to say, "Don't try to deceive me."
A short silence, then he shouted firmly:
"Everyone pack your things! We're leaving this house… it's no longer safe!"
He looked at Nariman with tense eyes, his voice less harsh but full of mixed worry and anger:
"How many times must we move?"
He didn't wait for her reply and slowly turned toward the room, lost in thought, leaving behind the tension and worry of the children and Barwin's silent expression.
Everyone began leaving the room one by one, each carrying their belongings, their appearances tense.
Nariman moved slowly toward the door, extending her hand gently to grasp her little sister Lilia. But she recoiled, clinging to her mother.
Nariman paused for a moment, a feeling of sorrow gripping her heart, whispering to herself:
"Even you, Lilia…?"
She approached her father, her gaze hesitant, and asked softly:
"Do we have to leave the house, Dad?"
Her father turned on the TV, and the news discussed the unknown energy spreading in the countries neighboring Yemen."
He remained silent, Nariman lowering her head, staring at the floor, lost in thought.
Moments later, the family left the house, boarding a ship heading to China, moving toward an uncertain future, each carrying the awe of what had happened and what was yet to come.
After a few days at sea, Nora approached Nariman quietly, whispering in a low, trembling voice:
"Nariman… someone is watching me."
Nariman raised an eyebrow slowly, staring at her:
"Who?"
Nora pointed with her gaze to a girl standing at a distance, wearing simple jeans, her wavy blonde hair shining in the sunlight.
Nariman stared at the girl for a moment, trying to understand her intentions. What was wrong with her? Why was she looking at her like that? What did she want?
The next day, Nariman could not find Nora nearby. It seemed strange, yet she felt Nora's aura close by, assuming she hadn't moved far, not paying much attention.
After four hours, everyone began noticing her absence, and anxiety gradually crept onto their faces.
"The mother, Niolver, called from afar to Nariman:
'Nariman! Go and call her… why is she so late?'"
Nariman hesitated for a moment, then ran swiftly, tracking Nora's energy. Every second heightened her tension until she reached the lower deck of the ship.
The place was dark and damp, the air thin, scarce in oxygen, making every breath difficult. Nariman felt worry seep into her heart, wondering why Nora was there alone, and what had driven her to this dangerous spot.
As Nariman groped her way through the damp corridor beneath the ship, she spotted a faint light seeping from a corner…
Then a trembling, hoarse voice echoed fearfully through the space:
"Save me… please!"
Nariman gasped, her heart clenching violently.
That voice… it was Nora's.
She ran swiftly toward the source of the call, her breaths quickening with each step.
When she arrived, she froze — Nora was trapped inside a strange iron box, faintly glowing with energy markings on its surface.
Nariman shouted as she approached:
"Hold on! I'll get you out!"
She reached out to touch the box — but at that moment, a strong current of energy pierced her, making her scream and recoil.
A burning sensation surged through her body, a bright flash filling the space for a fleeting moment.
Nariman panted, clutching her trembling hand from the shock, and said in a broken voice:
"Nora… calm down, stop your power now!"
A tense silence settled, broken only by the sound of dripping water from the ceiling.
Then — soft footsteps came from behind her.
Nariman turned slowly, coldness sweeping down her back.
The blonde-haired girl stood there, lightly waving her hand, a chain of water spinning around her arm as if alive.
Her gaze was sharp, cold, slicing through the silence like a sword as she spoke in a calm yet charged voice:
"Are you from the first category… or the second?"
Nariman froze, Nora hiding behind her in fear, while the moisture-heavy air tightened even more.
The girl remained still, only a mysterious smile playing on her lips — a smile carrying a promise… or a threat.
To be continued…