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?”

existence around us. Just tiny pinpricks all around – stars opening their eyes, making

chest as I look around now, seeing the limitless cosmos around me. An infinity of space and time that was, perhaps, always there – but that has now made

perhaps it

the communication,

says. And like us, you are one.

begin to burn brighter

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

nothing against the knowledge, or what I see, as the light brightens, brightens, filling the space, until what were once pinpricks expand to touch

overwhelming, painful to see, and I gasp against it, raising my hand

it

it has left in its wake…I know.

my hand over Victor’s inert form next to me, watching the sparks rise where we touch. I allow my eyes to settle on that small little ember within him

forms merge, the edges of mine passing

it’s not words. Just…the message. I feel

feel him respond, his body drinking of it, the thirst in him slaking. He takes more and more, and I give

that low ember inside of him and takes it, blowing on it to bring it life, kindling it to be more. Then, when it has a steady flame, I break it in

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

each half-filled with light, with a burning ember at our hearts. And I know it is

that, from this,

my lips. My arms are still wrapped around Victor, my head still tucked under his chin. I haven’t moved at all,

me, his breath coming

I think, so happy, so at

not weak, precisely. But I am…weaker. My body doesn’t have the verve and the energy that it had

that this has happened because I gave him half of my

bit. Not an ounce. I’d do it again – give him all of me,

one, after