|Author's Note| This was the result of some weird idea that's been popping in my head recently. I don't think there are other fics of this kind...so yeah. You can expect that it'll be the odd man out in the fandom. Also, this is very short, and though it exceeds 100 words, you may count it as a drabble haha.
Dedicated to Ridley Silverlake for being the most competitive person there is. xD
Clandestine
buttercupbella
These days have been peculiar - very peculiar, indeed.
For as long as I can remember, I was born ages ago. My conception wasn't something that the world warmly welcomed. In fact, I came to existence in secret - although I was as marvelous as any other being in Tokyo, nobody paid attention to me.
I heard children laughing and running around with their inhuman capabilities. I've seen them read minds, talk with such great charm, hurl fireballs at whatever direction they could turn towards. I've seen them grow up in those black and red uniforms. I've witnessed their farewells and departure into the real world.
Some of them have become the forerunners of the greatest breakthroughs of the millennium. Most of them have devoted themselves to public service, using their Alices - the magic ingrained in themselves - for the common good. However, there are still a few of them who have strayed from the path and ended up destroying themselves.
And me, for that matter.
I was born to be great, but also to die. These days are clearly inevitable for me - my long arms burning with hate, my defenses crashing down into a pile of debris and ashes. No longer do I see the children running around with their playmates, as if they are normal themselves.
Instead, they are running with shallow breaths - running away from the perils that have penetrated my vicinity.
I watch as the children cry. The blood of strangers is smeared across my insides. I would never want the children to leave, but if I will be given the chance to speak, I will tell them to do so. I can no longer support them, and I do not have the capability to stop all of these from happening.
When they find their form of escape, I will remain to be clandestine, burning and breaking down, away from the eyes of the world. The children will remember me, that is certainly true. I will stay alive in their memories, and when people who do not know their history ask them about their places of extreme grief and happiness, they will only have one answer. In a deathlike trance, they will whisper my name.
"Alice Academy."
Constructive criticism is very much welcome!