AN: Thank you for your for your feedback on the previous chapter. For some reason, we got a new deadline for the work I was so stressed out about which is awesome and I can sleep now and drink less coffee. I hope you enjoy this. Leave your thoughts and theories if you got any in a review. Let's see if anyone figures it out eventually.

She was on a cliff looking down at the waves as they hit the rocks. It was thrilling and scary. As she backed away a horde of crows flew up. She watched them as they made their way to the sky then frowned seeing that one of the crows stayed behind and was relatively close. She found herself following it after a while. She could see what seemed like an old house from a distance. As she got closer she realized that it was in bricks and was actually a dome. The crow set on the roof and continued to cow. She looked at the entrance and wasn't curious enough to get inside because it was dark and spooked her a little.

She looked up at the crow when it kept cowing. The cowing felt directed to her. And, if she didn't know better she'd say that the brainless animal was actually looking at her.

She held her arms up in defense to cover her face when the crow flew directly at her and closed her eyes shut.

When she opened her eyes she was in her shared bedroom with Amy.

Amy wasn't in bed and she wasn't surprised that her roommate wasn't home yet—she wouldn't be surprised if she wouldn't come home at all that night.

Beca sat up and closed the book she fell asleep reading before she climbed out of bed and headed downstairs to the kitchen.

It was late in the night and she fell asleep before she got around to eat dinner. She found some chicken salad in the fridge so she grabbed it planning to make herself a sandwich. Setting the bowl on the kitchen she turned on her heels to get the bread and a knife which she also put on the kitchen island. Remembering the mayonnaise she pulled it from the fridge.

Beca reached for the knife while she grabbed the bread and arched an eyebrow when couldn't find it. Tilting her head she saw that it was a few inches away from her reach, a few inches away from where she had set it. She reached for it again and watched the way it moved further away then fall from the kitchen island.

"What the fuck," she mumbled walking around the kitchen island. She put her foot on the knife then bent and grabbed it before she straightened up.

She set it on the kitchen island and watched it for a few seconds then reached for it again.

"What the actual fuck?" she said seeing that it moved again. She didn't know what to think. The knife couldn't possibly have a mind of its own. It was a fucking knife. She decided to use a spoon to spray the mayo on the bread, before she put the chicken salad, instead.

As she munched on the sandwich she kept eyeing the knife. She was taking a sip of water when she got an idea and decided to go for it because what the hell.

It was stupid but she wanted to see if she could make the knife move just by commanding it to move—Jesse did tell her she wasn't entirely human and as hard as that was to believe, she was curious and wanted to give it a try. Her almost two centuries old friend had provided her with more proof to back his story up feeling her uncertainty which she appreciated greatly.

Beca took a deep breath then held her hand vertically and thought to herself because it would be extra lame and stupid if she said it out loud, 'All right, move to the left.' and simultaneously moved her hand to the left.

"Oh my fucking God!" she exclaimed when the knife did move slightly to the right. She went on to move her hand to the other way while thinking of moving the knife to the right and it fucking did.

Feeling bold, she decided to move upwards from the kitchen island.

She exhaled through the nostrils when it barely moved. She wanted to fucking levitate.

She didn't know if she should be glad and freaked out when it did do as she wanted and levitated mere centimeters away from the kitchen island.

She moved her hand slowly higher and the knife moved upwards a little more.

"Okay," she nodded. "This interesting and not crazy at all," she said watching the knife. "I'm not crazy," she added swallowing before she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

The knife was still in the air, a few centimeters away from the kitchen island, where she had left it, once she opened her eyes.

She tried to move it higher but the knife kept trembling and wouldn't do what she wanted it to do and she figured she'd have to practice.

Sighing, she let it down by thinking about it then thought about pulling it towards her. She picked it up when it did slide her way then brought the sandwich to her mouth and took a bite.

Beca tilted her head hearing the front door then watched Amy step into the kitchen.

"Flatbutt," she greeted in surprise.

"Hey, Amy," Beca said in response as she put the knife down while considering to show Amy what she had just done then decided it would be best to keep it away from her friends until she understood what was happening first.

"What's keeping you up this late? You usually pass out around ten," Amy was saying as she walked to where her friend stood.

"I got up to snack," she informed to which Amy nodded and said, "I could use a snack."

"Knock yourself out." Beca moved out of the way and sat on a stool.

"Do we have Barbie sauce?" Amy asked.

"Yeah," Beca nodded.

When Amy went to get the barbecue sauce from the fridge, Beca decided to check if she was really going crazy and what had happened with the knife was a figment of her imagination. She held her hand upwards and thought about moving the knife until it fell off the kitchen island and watched as it fell. She then followed Amy with her eyes and watched her look around the kitchen island.

"I thought I saw a butter knife," she said. "Oh, there it is," she added spotting it on the floor. She quickly washed it and used it to cut the bread.

Beca breathed a sigh of relief as she swallowed the last bite of her sandwich.

"What?" Beca asked when Amy kept looking at her.

"Are you wearing contact lenses?" she frowned leaning forward.

"Why I would I do that? My sight is fine."

"Not that kind of contact lenses," Amy shook her head. "I meant cosmetic contact lenses. Your eyes are dark."

"My pupils are naturally large, you know that," Beca said and got on her feet.

"Shark eyes, right," Amy nodded bringing the sandwich to her mouth.

"I'm going to bed," Beca announced after stifling a yawn.

She made a stop at the bathroom to brush her teeth and frowned leaning closer to the mirror: her eyes were dark. Her navy blue iris were dark. Amy was right.

If the knife situation didn't freak her out this did. She paced to her bedroom and grabbed her phone to take pictures. If she thought her mind was playing tricks on her and Amy wasn't in her right mind either, the camera couldn't lie.

Her eyes were dark. Disturbingly dark. Unnaturally dark. Inhumanly dark.

She was well aware that the darkest human eyes could get was a dark shade of brown but currently, her eyes were black.

She took a seat on her twin bed and tried to control her breathing and reason with herself. 'I did just move a fucking knife around with my mind.'

She tapped on her messaging app icon and tapped on Jesse's name deciding to tell him what had happened.

Beca 1:10 am: 'Are you up?'

She anxiously waited for a while for him to answer. When he didn't reply, she tossed her phone on the bed and walked back to the bathroom to eye her eyes some more. Still black.

"Hey, Beca, in what language is this?" Amy was asking as Beca stepped back into the room.

"Old Irish," Beca answered her glancing at her friend who was sitting on her bed flipping through the book she had fallen asleep reading—she could see why Jesse found this sort of books interesting: the content of the book intrigued her.

"You know Old Irish?" Amy frowned.

"Yeah, more than I thought I did," Beca nodded reaching to grab her phone when it chimed with a text.

Jesse 1:21 am: 'Yes. Is everything okay?'

She didn't know how to answer him. She didn't know if she should sum up what happened or if she should give him a detailed version.

Beca 1:23 am: 'I don't know. I'm hoping you could tell me. Can I see you?'

Jesse 1:23 am: 'I'm on my way.'

Beca 1:24 am: 'No. Don't come to the Bellas' house. I'll come over to your place.'

The girls constantly teased her about her friendship with Jesse because of how they met. She didn't want to explain to Amy why he'd come over in the middle of the cold night nor did she want to put up with the teasing she was going to receive once the rest were informed.

Jesse 1:24 am: 'Okay.'

Beca put her phone down and quickly grabbed a beanie along with a sweatshirt to wear over her t-shirt.

"Going out?" Amy asked watching her pace around the room.

"Yeah." Beca slipped on her slippers.

"Is everything okay?" Amy asked watching Beca wear a sweatshirt.

"Yeah, yeah." She picked her phone and walked out the room, grabbing Chloe's car keys and heading out of the house.

Jesse sat across from her on the coffee table in the living room while she sat on the couch.

"How dark?" he asked after Beca finished filling him in while he carefully listened.

"Here see for yourself," she said and reached into her pocket and pulled her phone, quickly tapping to get to her gallery.

"Did you feel the change?" he asked while zooming in on the picture she took that clearly backed what she had told him.

"No," she shook her head then took off her beanie realizing she was still wearing it despite being behind closed doors in a very warm house. "I didn't notice when they turned blue either." She rubbed her face.

"You said it followed your hand movement when you thought about it."

She nodded.

"And this is the first time you ever used Telekinesis."

"Yes."

"You think you could do it again?" he asked.

"I could try." She shrugged then watched him run to the kitchen and back in a speed that she had yet to get used to.

He set a butter knife on the coffee table and stepped back.

Beca took a deep breath then gave it a try. "It's not working." She gave up after a couple of tries.

"Tell me what you were doing before you did the thing with the knife."

"I was asleep, I told you."

"Before that."

"I was up in my bedroom working on a mix. When I got bored I grabbed the book you gave me to read and fell asleep reading it."

"Nothing else?" he checked.

"I had this weird dream."

"What dream?" he asked intrigued and sat back on the coffee table facing her.

"I dreamed that I was near this cliff then a bunch of crows flew up and went away except for one that only moved when I followed it. Took me to this weird creepy dome then kept cowing at me. Felt like it was telling me to get in. I didn't. I flew right at me. I woke up."

"You remember the whole dream," he noted.

"Yeah," she shrugged.

"That doesn't usually happen. One usually forgets parts of the dream but you remembered." He paused. "Was it vivid?"

"It woke me up."

"Do you know the place in your dream. It could be a subconscious thing."

Beca shook her head. "I had dreams about crows before. I'd dreamed about 'em since I was a kid. From a psychological perspective, it could be a sign of stress or unsolved conflicts." She paused to sigh.

"Which one is it?" he asked.

"I don't have any unsolved issues," she firmly said.

"Don't you have classes tomorrow?" he asked changing the subject because she needed to relax and they wouldn't get anywhere when she was clearly too stressed out.

"Not going."

He frowned.

"The professor doesn't count attendance."

"Right, that means you don't have to go to their course." She was bouncing her leg up and down as he spoke.

"I'm gonna make you some tea," he decided. "It'll help you relax."

"Were you doing something important when I texted you?" Beca asked when Jesse was handing her a mug of tea.

"No," he answered. "I was working on a piece," he informed her.

"Can I hear it?" she asked.

"Sure," he shrugged and walked away. Beca guessed he went to get the music sheet.

When he came back he was holding a folder and a guitar.

"The guys are asleep: the piano is too loud," he said as he took a seat. He tossed the folder on the coffee table after grabbing a sheet.

"What is it for?" she asked.

"For me," he shrugged before he began to play her the two-minutes-long piece.

Beca watched how swiftly his fingers moved as he strummed the instrument as he eyed the tablature he had written.

"Do you like it?" Jesse asked when Beca didn't give him her feedback and instead continued to stare at his hands.

"It's amazing," she said looking up. "What inspired it?" she wondered.

"An elderly couple I saw at the hospital last week," he told her as he set the guitar aside.

"Well, I think it's very heartfelt," she added realizing her previous answer was a bit generic and shallow.

"Thanks," he smiled at her and watched her take a sip from the tea then tilted his head to look out of the window hearing thunder.

"So, the book put you to sleep, huh?" he asked tilting his head back to look at Beca.

"I wasn't bored with it, just tired," she told him. "Where did you find a book in Old Irish?" she wondered.

"I got it on a trip to Ireland a few decades ago. I lent it to a friend who needed it for their thesis research and only got it back recently." He leaned against the couch. "To research what's going on. It's a dead end. None of the tales hint at anything similar to what you do to me."

"Hold on, are you saying the stories in that book are real?" she asked.

"No one really knows what's true and what isn't," he sighed. "Most myths have some truth to them. Some are close to reality while others are completely wrong. I try to read about all mythologies I could find and connect the dots." He shrugged.

"That sounds like a lot of work."

"I have all the time in the world," he told her.

"Why, though?" she frowned. "Why do you research myths? What are you looking for, Jesse?" she asked.

He took some time before he answered, "I want to know if there's a way to undo the spell my body is under."

"You're looking for a way to become human?"

He nodded. "No one has all the answers. No one really knows how my kind was initially created." He paused. "I decided to look for answers myself. Ideally, I'd find a way but even if I don't, it's fine. I'm learning a lot anyway."

"Jesse, you want to give up immortality? Why would you want that?" She frowned.

"I didn't wish for immortality. And as amazing it sounds, being like myself becomes boring after a while," he answered her with a smile on his lips that didn't reach his eyes.

Beca nodded understanding where he was coming from.

"I should get going," Beca decided glancing out of the window hearing thunder strike again.

"It's gonna start raining. You could spend what's left of the night in one of the spare rooms. I'll wake you up early enough you could go back to your place to get ready and go get your college education." Beca rolled her eyes at the last bit. "I don't condone slacking school," he shrugged.

"Okay, grandpa," she nodded. "I keep forgetting how old you really are."

"When do you want me to wake you up?" he snorted.

"Seven am is good," she told him. She didn't want to overstay her welcome nor was she very comfortable spending the night at his place or anyone's. She liked sleeping in her bed. But it was cold and she was tired and the house seemed huge so she wouldn't really be bothering him or his housemates.

"Hey, don't tell Donald what happened with the knife. He will report once he gets a whiff of supernatural activity and I think it's best if SIAA stays out of it until we know a bit more."

"Okay," Beca nodded.

"Don't tell Benji either he unable of keeping anything a secret."

Beca had just gotten home and was climbing up the stairs when she saw Chloe exit the bathroom a towel wrapped her.

"Hey, you," Chloe greeted.

"Morning," Beca said.

"Did you spend the night out?" the redhead asked noting her friend's appearance.

"Uh-huh," Beca answered.

"Where were you?" Chloe arched an eyebrow then grinned when Beca avoided eye contact. "Better yet who were you with?"

She should have come up with a story in case she ran into any of the Bellas but she didn't expect any of them to be up early.

"You spent the night at Jesse's didn't you?" Chloe guessed.

Beca stayed quiet as she thought of a story then rolled her eyes hearing Chloe squeal. "Oh, Becs, FINALLY!"

"Hang on, it's not what you think," she said. "There's nothing going on between Jesse and me."

"I don't get why you keep insisting there's nothing going on between you and him. I'm glad you found someone. And I don't really care that you want to keep it low key. I'm just really happy for you."

"Chloe, I'm serious. There is nothing going on. He's a friend."

"You look like you barely had any sleep. What were you up doing with him? Practicing Irish?"

"This is pointless," Beca realized before she walked away.

She ended up going to the damn course.

Taking notes instead of borrowing for a change was nice.

Beca was gathering her stuff and planning to go grab a bite when her cell phone chimed with a text.

Jesse 11:55 am: 'Are you free?' She read as she made her way out of the room.

Beca 11:55 am: 'For a couple of hours.'

Jesse 11:56 am: 'Meet you at your place?'

Beca 11:56 am: 'Okay.' She shoved her phone in her pocket figuring she would buy lunch on her way home.

"Hey, is everything okay?" Beca asked spotting Jesse standing on the sidewalk near the Bellas' house.

He nodded. "Could you grab that book you borrowed?" he requested.

"Yeah, sure. It's in my room." She reached inside her bag for her keys. "C'mon in," she added when he didn't follow her.

"Here's your book. What's up?" Beca asked as she handed him the book.

"I thought back at how you know Old Irish without realizing it and the bedtime stories your grandma used to tell you about The Morrígan." He took the book from her. "Your dreams have crows in them and the Morrígan turns into a crow in some stories."

"Yeah?" she nodded.

"What if that has to do with your abilities? I can't believe I hadn't thought of this connection until now." He cracked the book open. "To spare you the details and get straight to the point: I once came across a poem in Old Irish that recounts how an army of inhumanly strong men were made which I like to think is how the first of my kind were made according to the Irish mythology: It was with magic, really strong magic, and the blood of a God named Bres whose mother is one of the Tuatha Dé Danann, who were worship by people in Ireland a long time ago, while his father is one of the Fomorians, who are basically the rivals of the Tuatha Dé Danann and are total assholes." He was flipping through the pages as he spoke. "This is the Tuatha Dé Danann's family tree," Jesse tapped his finger on the page. Beca leaned in to get a better look and saw The Morrígan at the very bottom of the tree.

"The Morrígan is a Goddess and isn't just a fairy tale?" Beca looked from the page.

"You never really know what's true and what isn't," he reminded her of what he had said the night before. "These stories are ancient, Bec. And there are so many versions of The Morrígan so we don't know what's credible and what isn't and if she existed at all."

"How do we know she's real and has something to do with me?" She watched him close the book.

"She's a Goddess… And I think I know how to check if you have the blood of an ancient God in your veins."

"What do I have to do?" she asked.

"I need some of your blood to make a serum out of." He unzipped the back bag he was holding.

"You're gonna draw it right now?" she asked in surprise.

"Why, would it be a problem?" he frowned.

"No," she shook her head.

He could sense her nervousness. "Hey, it's fine if you don't like needles. I know how to do it and not hurt you," he assured her.

"I'm fine with needles," she told him and rolled her sleeve up. "It's just that you act fast," she shrugged.

"Gotta take a leap of faith and hope for the best. If this doesn't work at least we roll something out," he said in response.

"I wish I was as optimist as you," she sighed.

"Can we go up to my room?" she wondered. "I don't want to explain why you're drawing blood if one of the girls shows up," she went on to say.

"Sure," he nodded then followed her up the stairs. "I need to wash my hands first," he told her.

"Bathroom is over there." She gestured at the bathroom. He handed her the black bag where he put the supplies he needed to perform a blood draw then went to the bathroom.

"Amy is your roommate?" he asked after a quick glance around the room and seeing the Australia flag on one side of the room.

"Yep," she nodded and took a seat on her bed. He wore a pair of disposable gloves for sanitary reasons then sat down next to her.

He gently disinfected the area he was going to draw blood from then held her arm and felt nothing. "Well, look at that, latex is an insulator."

Beca nodded when he met her gaze then looked down at her arm. She winced at the feel of the needle and watched him draw a fair amount her blood then chuckled when he placed a Hello Kitty Band-Aid once he was done.

"Does the poem say anything specific that made you think it's about your kind?" she asked watching him store the blood in a tube.

"Not really. It just mentions their strengths and that they were once human." He shrugged. "The Irish Mythology is one of the least documented mythologies out there." He put the used supplies in a plastic bag and put it in his back bag.

"What are you going to do with the serum once you extract it from my blood?"

"Try it on a mortal and see if they temporarily gain inhuman strength," he informed her.

"You don't want Donald to know anything yet so I'm guessing you're gonna test it on Benji?"

"If he agrees," he nodded.

"I wanna be there when it happens." She rolled her sleeve down.

"I was going to ask you if you'd like to be around." He got on his feet. "Someone is home," he told her hearing the front door get unlocked.

"What's wrong?" he asked when Beca blew a breath.

"Nothing." She watched him wear his back bag while praying it wasn't Chloe that got home.