CHAPTER 53: MIRA’S SHADOW

[Mira’s POV:]

...

I never liked mirrors.

Even before the Rift and the apocalypse ravaged the world, when the world was still intact, I hated looking at my reflection.

Not because of how I looked, though I always thought my eyes were too plain, and my hair too limp, but because whenever I saw myself, I thought of her... my older sister.

She was the prodigy.

The one who could run faster, study harder, smile brighter.

At school, everyone whispered her name with awe. At home, our parents hung her awards on the wall and framed them like holy relics.

Mine? Mine sat in drawers, forgotten. All I got was participation ribbons and decent grades, nothing remarkable.

"Why can’t you be more like your sister, Mira?"

I heard it so often it became a drumbeat in my head.

Every achievement of mine was weighed against hers and found lacking. She was light, I was shadow. And shadows don’t shine.

The weight didn’t stop at home.

It bled into the world around me. Teachers praised her, neighbors adored her, and relatives compared me without even realizing how the words cut.

"She’s destined for greatness".

"Mira? She’s too quiet. She’s the responsible and supportive one".

Supportive... that was my role. To stand at the edge of the stage, clapping for someone else’s spotlight.

I guess I was just an extra in the grand scheme of things.

And I told myself I could live with that; that not everyone needed to shine, that maybe being invisible was safer.

But that illusion shattered the day I failed her.

It wasn’t the Rift yet, just a riot.

There were angry crowds in the city, shouting, pushing, a chaos I didn’t understand. We were out together, my sister and I.

She told me to stay close. I did.

Until the surge of bodies tore us apart.

I remember her hand slipping from mine, nails scratching desperately against my palm as she screamed my name. I could remember the panic vividly seeping in as my hand slowly lost hold of hers.

I fought to hold on. God, I fought, but the wave of people crushed in, and then she was gone.

When they pulled her out, her skull was cracked against the pavement, and she was barely breathing.

By the time the ambulance came, she wasn’t breathing at all.

And me? I stood there, trembling, useless, my hand still empty, hearing the voice in my head ring without stop. ’You weren’t strong enough. You couldn’t protect her’.

For weeks, months, I replayed it and it haunted me.

If only I’d held tighter, if only I’d been braver, if only I’d been faster, maybe she’d still be alive.

The weight of regret bore down on me like a burden.

The shadow grew heavier.

I tried to fight it. I tried to prove I wasn’t worthless. I threw myself into studies... Law school. It was something important, something noble.

But I cracked.

The exams blurred in front of me. My hands shook when it mattered, my mind went blank when people expected me to perform. And when I failed, it wasn’t just a test score, it was the last nail in the coffin of everyone’s expectations.

My parents didn’t yell at me, they didn’t need to. I could see it on their faces, and disappointment weighed more than anger.

"We expected this from you".

And I believed them.

Then the Rift came.

Fire tore through the sky, and the world broke. Monsters rose, cities fell, and those of us who survived, some of us Awakened.

I remember that moment clearly; the world screaming, the ground splitting open, people dying around me. It was just... surreal.

And then the System whispered, and I felt air stir at my fingertips.

Wind wrapped around me, light but sharp, carrying me away from a collapsing wall. That was how I survived, but...

Wind.

Not fire, not lightning, not strength or steel or anything spectacular. Just air, invisible and quiet, just like me.

When I saw others Awaken, Jonas with his brute force, Kara with her speed, and Reid with his deadly precision, I shrank deeper into myself.

Of course my ability was small, of course I was forgettable, what else did I expect? Even the Rift agreed; Mira was meant to be the shadow.

But then I met them.

Jonas, reckless but stubborn. Kara, arrogant but unbreakable. Reid, steady even when bleeding. Holt, precise and steady like a standard SI unit. Travis, awkward but kind. Then Ethan... unpredictable, insane, but brilliant.

And I... helped.

My wind shielded them from falling debris, my wind deflected fire just enough to save a life. I gave them breath when they were choking, I gave them cover when they were exposed.

Small things, quiet little things. Invisible things.

And yet, they never treated me as less. And that was when I realized... that was me. That was my shadow talking, not theirs.

And tonight, in the farmhouse cellar, as the others slept their exhaustion away, I finally saw it.

The shimmer in my vision, the System’s quiet whisper.

~----~

[System Notice: Rank Advancement Achieved]

[Congratulations! You have ascended to F Rank!]

~----~

There was no thunder, no blaze, no chaos like Travis blossoming under fire.

Just... me, sitting in the dark, air stirring faintly around my fingers, quiet as a breath.

And yet... it was enough.

For once, I didn’t feel envy. For once, I didn’t feel overshadowed. I didn’t feel like a failure who couldn’t protect anyone.

I felt steady.

’I’m not the strongest. I’ll never be the loudest, but I don’t have to be’.

’I just have to be enough’.

I leaned back against the cellar wall, watching the others sleep.

I watched Jonas muttering in his dreams, Reid’s rifle still across his knees, Travis’s hand twitching faintly from exhaustion. Ethan at the door, staring at the Hollow Plains with that storm in his eyes.

For the first time in years, I didn’t hate the reflection in my mind.

I am Mira.

The shadow, the wind, the quiet.

And maybe... finally... that’s enough.