[ENG] Family Family

Prologue

[Mario's P.O.V.]

2028

The wind gently blew through the windows; the curtains swayed and cast a trembling veneer of shadow over the painting hanged on the adjacent wall, encased by a golden baroque frame.
The engraved label on it read: "The Red Puddle, Oil On Canvas, by V. Crowfield, 2012", in equally luxurious letters.
Everytime I catched a glimpse of that masterpiece of emotions, for a split second everything went black, my light grey eyes watered, my legs trembled. Every single time, my mind traveled back to that fateful day, the first of a long, despairing serie.

March 15, 2012

The wind gusts were driving me crazy that day, increasing the friction and the distance between me and our destination.
- Honey, where are you? -
I looked at my left, where Veronica, the voice's source, was laboriously climbing the steepest hill we had ever been on.
- 3 o'clock, right beside you. -
- What's the point of you being invisible and right next to me? It's totally useless, tactically-wise. -
- I prefer staying at your side. -
- What are we even doing here, Mario? -
- Enlighten me. It was your idea, don't lie. -
We stopped for a while as the woman was heavily panting.
- The orphanage guy reportedly heard cries while walking here. A woman's voice. Or a girl's. -
- A girl's, more likely. Many children are abandoned in the proximities of orphanages. -
- But why not directly give them up, huh? - Veronica inquired.
The trees were covered in musk and lichens, as well as the slippery rocks that rudimentarily paved our way. I placed my hand and pressed on my knees to help myself with every slow step I took. Finally, the way started to straighten up.
The whole forest guided my gaze towards the vanishing point where all the trunks seemed to converge.
But something was off.
- Veronica... the ground. -
She immediately tilted her head downwards and stayed still for a few seconds, her red eyes traveling left and right until she finally saw it. Tiny red droplets were strewn across the gravelly dirt.
- Looks like a trail of blood. It comes from East, deviates and continues right in front of us. -
- So, where do we go? East or North? -
- Where the distance between each drop is larger, of course, is where it ends. We've worked so hard to get up here, so... -
We didn't hesitate before resuming walking straight forward, along the scarlet path.
It was a particularly cold night, and the gale was only making it worse. My steps' pace was gradually decreasing with my stamina, while Veronica's remained steady. She followed both the trail of droplets and the moving pebbles, the only visible sign of my presence as my ability extends to rendering clothes invisible: there's obviously a maximum dimension for the objects it applies to (usually 40 kilograms), as well as a maximum of layers that can interpose between my body and the target to be made invisible. I kept talking during the trip, to reassure her.
The droplets were getting more and more difficult to find the more we progressed: this likely meant we were getting close to our target, whether it was a person or a wounded animal, but it also meant we had to find it on our own.
- I go North-northwest and you go North-northeast. -
And she disappeared.

One of invisibility's biggest perks is being able to get really close to nature without bothering it, and it's better than any documentary or TV show.
I observed the birds fly from tree to tree, and watched as a deer peacefully ate from a few greenbrier bushes, and I wondered how those berries would taste if made into some delicious jam, but then I pictured the blood from earlier and almost threw up.
Satiated, the animal looked around, then bent its knees and sat down to rest.
Then, a golden wolf came. I was petrified stiff, fearing it would smell me, although I carried a gun and a switchblade with me, as usual.
The hunter wasn't invisible, but it wished it was. It observed the deer intently, ready to strike, but... something stopped it and it no longer seemed to care about the prey: he rather focused on a feeble, far scream that almost sounded like a whisper. The birds subsequently left their nests, and as the wolf hurriedly ran away back where it came from, the deer followed shortly after, unaware.
The voice was obviously Veronica's, and was calling my name, and thus, like the wolf, I retraced my steps until I found the last drop of blood on the ground, where we had started going in separate directions.

- Looks like it wasn't a carcass, Mario... -
The little girl, approximately 5 years old, had long uncombed blonde hair mixed with twigs, leaves and other dirt from spending time in the forest.
She was curled up on the ground in pain, holding her arm above a small puddle of blood; something had cut into it in an attempt to sever the computer-like organ that she had there since she was born. A sort of long, rectangular display was located in her left forearm, along with a keyboard of French layout.
I tried to touch her, but something held me back. Some kind of energy field, shielding the area in close proximity to the child, was preventing me from getting any closer. After seeing that all of our guns had been dismantled in our holsters and my switchblade had been twisted and rendered useless by an invisible force, I came up with a theory.
- It's either her or some sort of security protocol that activated itself after the attempted removal of that thing in her arm. -
- RAAC: MIND CONTROL ACTIVATED - the recorded voice of a young girl rang out.
I immediately looked at Veronica, but she seemed perfectly fine.
- Mind control... activated? -
I turned back around and realized what had actually happened. The keyboard had retreated inside of her flesh and she stood up, her arm as good as new. She wasn't mind-controlling any of us, but that strange device.
She looked straight at me, her blue eyes glistening in Veronica's flashlight's beam.
But I was invisible, or at least I thought I was.
I looked down and, surprised enough, I could see my body.
- There's no need to hide, Mario Fitzgerald Family. I can't really read your mind, but I sense you have good intentions. I can say the same about your wife, Veronica Crowfield. Yes, it was a security protocol initiated by the RAAC's artificial intelligence, but I know better than a stupid software. -
She gestured downwards with her left hand and then offered the other one for a handshake.
- I dispelled the forcefield. I'm Stella. -
I shook her cold hand, then she turned around for Veronica to do the same.
- As you can see, my family rejected me for deep, intrinsic distrust towards me because of my ability. Yesterday was my 5th birthday. -
She closed her eyes for a while and sighed and the keyboard was once again ready for use; heading in the direction of the orphanage, I noticed the trail was nowhere to be found. Stella tried to reassure me.
- Forget about it, I dealt with it - the girl sounded cold but also rather nervous while discussing that particular topic.
As Stella walked by our side, I could sense a childish innocence and an intellect like no others under a façade of vainglory which originated from a one-of-a-kind power.