Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

#Chapter 200 – Miracle

I feel, suddenly, as if I am inside a dream.

It’s a waking one, though, in which I am fully conscious, which is very new for me. And very unnerving.

I feel myself in a separate space – a world with its own rules, its own gravity and physics. But there’s nothing here. There is just darkness, blackness. Even as I look down at myself – to where I should be – I see…nothing. No form, just darkness.

“This is not right,” I murmur, and then I’m shocked when the world responds.

Not with words, or any sort of communication, but it just…rights itself.

As I watch, a body comes into being beneath me. My body – almost. It’s mine, because when I look down at it, it is where my own body should be. And when I move, lifting my hands to look at them, the hands move.

But it’s also not my body – or at least not as I’ve seen it before. Instead, this body is…transparent? I don’t know how to describe it, but I can see through it, almost, to the stuff within. And instead of being filled with muscles and organs and sinew it’s…

Well, it’s glowing.

Inside of this body is what looks like a well of sunlight, glowing and sparkling and shining out from within. A bright, happy, rich well of life and joy.

Could that be me? I wonder, marveling at it. But then, remembering my life, my reality, I look up and out into the rest of this world.

There’s another figure there, now, laying in the space not far from me. I move towards it and it comes closer, though I cannot see myself passing through space or time.

This one is…it is sick. Transparent as well, it is collapsed down, the light within it barely a tiny ember. Half of the body is black – the head, the extremities, empty of light. Instead, just this little piece of light brightens the body’s core. And it is nearly out.

“Victor,” I whisper, knowing that it is him. Knowing also, somehow, that this space that we find ourselves in – it is what is between us. A physical manifestation of it that we’ve somehow accessed, perhaps by sheer will and desperation.

I kneel down next to him, putting my hands out, touching him. I can feel this new form beneath me, feel its dark reality. When I run my hands over his body, sparks fly where they touch. But they add no light – they merely fade out into the darkness.

“Please,” I say, turning my face towards the darkness. “I don’t…I don’t understand. How can I help him?”

around us. Just tiny pinpricks all around – stars opening their eyes, making their presence known. Planets. Galaxies. All

limitless cosmos around me. An infinity of space and time that was, perhaps, always there

And this too was perhaps it was always

quite words, the communication, but…I hear it

like us, you are one. Sometimes many.

to

eyes against the brightness of them – but – do I even have

brightens, filling the space, until what were once pinpricks expand to

I gasp against it, raising my

then it

its wake…I know. It has given me

next to me, watching the sparks rise where we touch. I allow my eyes to settle on that small little ember within him – all that is left. “Sometimes we are

merge, the edges of mine passing seamlessly through the edges of his. Not all the way,

it’s not words. Just…the message. I feel him respond, hearing me. “Take it,” I say again.

to fill his form as well. I feel him respond, his body drinking of it, the

on it to bring it life, kindling it to

this. Or at least, I think it’s hours. I honestly don’t know – time works…differently in this half-state. Hours, minutes, months, years.

when we are finished, we are each half-filled with light, with a burning ember at our

that, from this,

on my lips. My arms are still wrapped around Victor, my head still tucked under his

feel him next to me, his breath coming steadily now, his pulse a warm throb in his

I think, so happy, so at

difference, though, in me as well as him. I can feel it in my own body. I am not weak, precisely. But I am…weaker. My body doesn’t have the verve and the energy that it had yesterday, the life that felt like it came in in limitless supply.

half of my strength, took half of

not one bit. Not an ounce. I’d do it again – give

are one, after