Record #1: The Phenomenon
Damien breathes, letting out wisps of his breath as he hides his chin behind the collar of his coat. He clings onto it tightly, keeping himself warm and away from the freezing winter air. Sunset having far passed near this time of day, he was relying on the lights of lampposts, buildings, and passing cars around him to see clearly. Briefly, he had clung onto the phone in his pocket, seemingly waiting for a phone call or text message of some kind, but never once did he feel the chime and rumble that indicated such. So, releasing his grip on his phone, Damien let it be, wondering how he'd get over the oppressive feeling of losing the final game his highschool volleyball team would ever get to play.
Slowly pacing towards the end of the street, Damien sighs as he thinks back to when he'd initially joined his highschool's team in the first place. The memory isn't all that special: a sophomore on the team had been tasked with recruiting any freshman students and Damien so happened to be one of the few the sophomore spoke to. To this day, Damien still doesn't quite understand why he'd accepted the invitation - it wasn't as if he'd been physically active in his youngest years, nor did he have some intrinsic interest in sports. If anything, he'd joined the school's volleyball club out of convenience. It was something he could add in his college resume (not that it would really matter much unless his school's team advanced statewide) or could do to waste away time. There's a possibility it could've helped Damien connect with others when he attended college, but none of these were substantial enough for him to say it was the reason he'd joined.
Damien supposes the reason doesn't really matter though, just that he'd joined in the first place. Where there once was constant flickering of his thoughts was now an idleness he didn't know what to do with. Before, despite not having been in the starting lineup (which admittedly, wasn't a surprise considering his lack of experience beforehand), Damien had come to appreciate volleyball for the sport that it was. The minute and fast-paced movements, the tiring struggle of repetitive drills, the almost naïve platitude of those annually chosen as captain; through the lenses of his black glasses, Damien found being on the team comforting. Yet, while sitting on the sidelines through his highschool years, he'd also realized another thing: his teammates lived for the sport. It was the cause of their insistent spirit where a game was never truly over until it was. Every point meant the match would continue, another round where they felt truly alive.
Contrastingly, Damien never felt that fire his teammates had welling up within them. His eyes had shone with interest, sure, and he'd believed the remark from their coach about the 'individuality of each player' to the team, but he had never felt any different when playing substitute for one role to the next. Perhaps that's why Damien continues to feel the dragging dullness in his chest since that last volleyball game. It's as if he'd only ever been feeding off of the fires of his teammates rather than having his own. The loss only broke the delusion of that burning thrill of want. What remains now is just a visage of what once was. Volleyball practice may still continue, but the large flames towards winning the tournament had been promptly put out.
Damien takes a brief pause in his step as he glances toward his shadow before continuing his pace. He reflects back on his year so far since that final game. The team had silently split apart as the rest of his seniors focused on exams, college applications, and enjoying what's left in their final highschool year. Damien is simply what's left behind, still staring at the ashes from the fire he's yet to understand. When time came around for his college application process, Damien would think back to elementary school and every time he was asked what he'd wanted to be in the future. Back then, teachers would say he had plenty of time to decide. Now? Damien could only think there was never enough. He never cared much about what he wanted to be as he drifted through school, and now, college finally smothered what he thought was his ambition at his feet.
He hadn't been ready to face the vast scale of the entire process: choosing the colleges you want to attend, writing the essay, filling out the applications, the waiting that comes thereafter, all of it. Damien hadn't known where to even begin. He had far too cloudy an idea for what college to pick to begin with, and the applications were another issue entirely. Damien wasn't so worried over his scores yet he couldn't help but have a nagging feeling that it wouldn't be enough or that he'd filled his application wrong in some way.
But the worst of it all was knowing he had to wait until he got a response. In the few months after his brain was jolted towards the reality of the college process, it had become a distraction from the void of the borrowed flame of his teammates. When the whole process was over, there wasn't anything else but to face the suspension of disbelief – the idleness he's having now. Perhaps he may not be alone in his anxiousness, but Damien could tell it wasn't the same. The worries of his seniors' were over their possible acceptance into a college. Damien's worries were over the point of what he's actually going to do when he is there.
When his parents had once asked about what college he'd applied to, it only furthered his worries.
"The local university, you know the one. Undecided. I probably should've chosen something by now huh?"
"Well that's still great, hun! You'll still have time; take a gap year, even. You know we'll support you, right?"
"... Yeah, I know."
That may have been what he'd said but he'd be lying if he then went on to say it to be fully true. He could tell by the unsure expression on his mother's face. They would support him all the way, he was sure of that. They didn't want Damien to end up like how they'd started - stuck in an endless struggle until they finally found the jobs that worked for their passions and needs. But there was only so long they could help pay for his tuition. With all that Damien heard around him at school, he couldn't help but feel utterly… behind.
It was like being stuck at the end of a race, seeing everyone else pass the finish line and trying to catch up. He can hear the conversations asking about what major everyone is applying to: Computer Science, Engineering, Communications, Political Science, Anthropology. The assurance within their voices brought on by the fire within them was awkward in the least in comparison to Damien's dead silence, especially when others asked for his. Still, in those moments, Damien lets it be. He can wait until his mind eventually comes to a decision; he always has. It may be thoughtless to believe in something like fate, but Damien thinks it'll end up fine in the end. It's kept their graces on him - living - for all his life after all. What's a few more to do?
So, Damien simply follows as life guides him; which, as of currently, is to be getting home four hours before midnight and alone under the lights of the city streets in the cold chill of February. Only just returning from volleyball practice, Damien moves the strap of his duffel bag further up his shoulder as he lets out a white puff of his breath in the frosty air. Looking up at the traffic light ahead of him, Damien crosses the street when the symbol of the white man flashes on it. He counts the white lines on the concrete as he walks by, trying to keep himself from any lingering thoughts before he pauses as he reaches to the other side of the crosswalk. A sudden, intense wave of wind blows through his hair and his glasses would've been blown away had Damien not kept a gloved hand tightly held onto it, the other having been held just as tightly on his bag strap.
Looking up while thinking he would get an answer as for the impromptu gust of wind on his face, he didn't see the glimmering of the nearly full moon as he'd expected. Rather, it was something Damien could only closely relate to the aurora borealis, something shining so brightly and out of place in the middle of the night.
'But they only appear near the arctic circle don't they?'
He squints at the sight with confusion, trying to reason with the occurrence of the phenomenon he's seeing with his own eyes. Damien had seen the northern lights once on a family trip to Minnesota and though bright, it was nothing near alike. The sight before him was vaguely circular rather than bending, and it almost seemed as if it was bursting forth in the sky with spikes of electricity. Damien barely made out what seemed to be like lines of a grid, connected with rings of light colored in purples and blues. If the spiking from the central light was truly electricity, Damien couldn't hear it over the sound he could only describe as sucking, like a vacuum or a vortex of wind. Perhaps there was a faint sound of sparking when he listened closely but Damien let himself look around him instead to rest his eyes away from the light.
What he found was desolate: no people or cars actively driving by. The lights of the street lamps in the area flickers, an eerie feeling settling within Damien as he tries to calm himself. He adjusts his glasses, his other hand still holding on tight to the strap of his bag.
'Should I be taking a video of this?'
Despite seeing something that no doubt rang alarm bells in his head, Damien only wonders if he was the first (or perhaps would be the last) to see the sight. He was too entranced in the moment to think about anything other than the sight before him - though in the back of his mind, he doubts running or calling for help would do much. He never planned to major in astrophysics but Damien still thought back to what he'd learned of it in his short lifespan so far.
Was the phenomenon in his sights something akin to a black hole? A white hole? Or perhaps it was a wormhole? It felt like it had to do with something about the bending of spacetime. That quick moment of thought brought Damien to another possibility:
"An Ultra Wormhole?"
Damien almost laughed to himself at the statement knowing full well it was about a fictitious concept in the first place. At least it brought some mirth out of an otherwise solemn day. He didn't get much time to think further, though, as he felt the still-freezing air pick up around him far worse than before, leaving Damien to feel as if he'd barely be able to breathe. He clung onto his glasses and bag tighter than before, and when the feeling of being swept on his feet ran through him, Damien almost screamed. His arms wrapped around the pole the traffic sign was set onto as his fingers pressed onto the metal. That being said, Damien also didn't hold on for long. While volleyball did help his muscles, it was never used for holding onto something for a long duration of time as he was now.
Rapidly, his arms were forced away from the pole, causing him to shriek. Being tossed around like a ragdoll in the wind, Damien could only curl in on himself, keeping his glasses on his face and his bag between his legs for it had flown off his shoulder. Barely opening his eyes to see what's occurring around him, Damien saw himself flying further and further away from the ground, facing a sight similar to being in the middle of a hurricane. Trees were blown askew, parked cars were steering towards a certain side of the road, and street lamps were beginning to shatter. Yet the street was still empty of any other person aside from Damien himself. While wind continues pushing Damien backward, he tilts his head back as he approaches the large tear in space before him. He shudders a breath past the constricting gales the further from the ground he got.
Damien's fear response had always been to freeze and while he'd improved his lack of action under distress through volleyball, he was floating in the air and being carried by the wind. Freezing was all he could do. Finding himself beginning to be enveloped in the purple and blue lights of the entrance of the portal, Damien's eyes began to tire as the heavy breeze that carried him subsided and the gravity around him became weightless. He narrowly witnessed a sight of a small creature fluttering around him, looking much like a fairy. With clear wings, large blue eyes, a green bulbous body, and antennae, it gave a bothered expression.
"Cele… Celebi!"
The creature closed its eyes as it spread its small arms outward. Blue light pulsed around Damien as the entrance closed around him. His eyes finally shut.
A/N:
First chapter of a new fic on FFN since forever! Feels nice actually compared to posting this on Ao3. (It's there under the same name if you prefer that platform!)
This was a story I'd been planning for a while and it's great to finally get some of my ideas out there. I don't like to go by a schedule as I feel it sets some sort of expectation I'll never meet but I hope I can get a chapter out biweekly? (No promises here… especially to any fans that know of my old DR fic.) I did get some pre-written chapters over Winter Break though, so expect a chapter next week!
Oh, and feel free to write constructive criticism in the comments if you feel like something needs to be pointed out I suppose? Lastly, many thanks to my beta readers avardiris, ShiroHatzuki, & raindrops! (That is, if they're all reading this anyway.)
11/7/23 Update: This chapter in particular has gone through some more major changes! If you didn't re-read it upon seeing the latest chapter, I recommend you do so now. I mostly tried to make Damien have a larger emotional impact in the reader and added some logistical changes from feedback but I'm not sure if it worked really. I hope the short 'prologue' chapter was still good nonetheless. (If you're new, feel free to ignore my first comment, but any positive feedback is still nice if you got any!)