Hollonent: The Gathering

Chapter 2

On second thought, why did I offer help to repair such a big, sluggish old computer? My back is aching from its weight and I don't even live close to school.

Walking home, the encounter with Gina flashes through my mind. That was the first time in almost ten years we talked about...our origin. I can't even remember her Geno-arm, the power we were giving upon leaving our true home.

When I arrive home, dad is sitting at his wooden, yet damaged desk in the living room. His laptop is on and several screenshots of continents and technical devices are flickering on the screen. I guess they're from Firox, the city, or Hollonent, we came from. Like Gina, dad isn't eager to go back either. Yet, he's doing all this research. He once explained it as "knowing your enemy" or whatever he meant with that. Dad doesn't notice me, being consumed by his current occupation. I silently hike to my room on the second floor with this burdensome, good for nothing computer.

My room is a messy garbage dump. Games, books, and other interests of mine, which are mostly electrical components, are spread across the room. I carefully navigate my way through it. I don't want to fall with this computer in my hands. Not fearing that it would break, but that it would break me. Our school should really invest in newer, smaller computers.

I put the computer on my desk with a loud thud, shaking everything on it. I look at it, remembering Gina and I'm reminded by her indifference about Firox. When we were younger, she would always have tantrums about it. That's the only thing I remember about her. I know she doesn't want to go back. Can't blame her. We were sent away during a war. The great war between all Hollonents. The war that would end existence as we know it. Only one Hollonent could rise from the ashes. And what was the clever idea of Firox to achieve victory?. The idea they spend probably millions, even billions on?

Five children injected with Geno-arms. That's it. We're their last hope.

Thinking about it now, it sounds so silly. Almost as we're protagonists in a poorly-written book series. Besides, even if I want to return and help Firox in the war, I would have to drag dad and Gina's stubborn asses with me. I rather don't do that. I always thought it was strange that dad detests Firox so much. Mom still lives there too. She stayed in Firox while my dad went to the surface with me. My dad said that the Kraza of Firox decided who could come along with us and that he ordered my dad to go alone. The Kraza is basically a king. I don't know or even care, about the specifics of his powers. All I know is that the other kids were sent with both parents, while I was not. I wonder almost every day if mom is still alive and why she wasn't allowed to come with us. If I had a sole reason to go back, it would be for mom. Even though I never met her, I still somehow miss her. It's weird to admit, but I sometimes really need another parent. My dad isn't the best person to count on for emotional support. Not even support in general. When I was nine years old, my Geno-arm activated for the first time. I was scared and didn't know what to do, but dad didn't do much to help me. He was rather sad that it activated, and his mood only grew worse ever since. He hoped that it never would have activated. My Geno-arm activating is just a step closer to returning to Firox. That is a step closer to mom.  Dad doesn't seem to care about her. Sometimes, I wonder if he ever really loved her.

After that intern monologue, I finally open Mr. Nelson's computer. I see the part I hit with my electrical shock. It's burned and a prideful grin crawls on my lips. Glad that I know my own power. With my Geno-arm, I can send electrical shock and manipulate electricity. Well, I'm still working on that last one.

I inspect the computer and start repairing it, which takes about half an hour. I close it up again, boot it up to see if everything works, and put it aside, ready to again carry it like a mule tomorrow. I sigh as I realize how much of my energy is drained. I glance over my shoulder to all my small "inventions" I made over the years. None of them work. I mentally wave them off, as they don't seem interesting now.