Time passed.
One unit, then another, then five, then ten, then more.

Forty two units have passed since we arrived on Kenglowe.

Many things have happened whilst nothing has happened.
I have felt six more people die.
There are several who fear death to the point that I believe they will likely be gone before we can reach them.
I have barely left the rooftop.
I have trained.
Not only my pseudo-abilities, but my knowledge of languages and my body’s ability to protect itself.
One unit after the local lockdown was lifted, regular activities resumed.
As Bernard was forced to encounter me in the dojo, we adopted a system of minimalistic speaking that would reduce to grunts or huffed air when either of us were in a less that hospitable mood.
Since I had felt the first deaths, the amount of fear, pain and emotional discomfort had barely diminished at all.  I could not hide this fact from the others; even if it made them worry more, even if it gave them another excuse for them to hate me.
The thought that his partner and their unborn child were potentially unsafe and scared, drove into Bernard hard.  The due date was almost upon us and there was still no word of the investigation’s progression.
He had taken a position training and working with the local area security division, yet during his free time he would always go to the dojo to train.
Back when the lessons were still in place, I had requested to join in, much to his protestations.
“Laura, please don’t.”
“People are unsafe and hurting, I need to be able to protect them when we reach them.”
“So train with weapons.”
“No.  I won’t rely on anything that can be dropped.”
“I just…”
“I know, I’ll stay behind you as much as I can.  I’ll even wear a mask if it helps, just, please don’t try to stop me.”
“…fine, just, promise me that you’re not gonna use it for revenge.”
“I don’t have the heart for that, even now.  I swear on every life still out there, I will not chance revenge.”
It was entirely unfounded that whatever had happened, was the fault of someone with intent, however we were all doing our best to prepare for the eventuality that they had been targeted specifically.
My ability training had branched into the defensive and offensive.  Ishni has continued to train me long after the other lessons had concluded as he had been brought in by Orthus, not the administration.
I hold a deep amount of respect for him and think of him as a friend.  He has claimed the same of me, telling me that, as long as he is able, he will continue to help me find my path.
“After all,” he admitted to me one day, “who wouldn’t want to be the one to take credit for their part in forging such an incredibly talented creature of unimaginable power.”
I had raised my eyebrows and told him to be serious, yet he was adamant that I was going to be a force to recon with.  I would be the protector of humanity.
I somehow managed to hold my tears in.
“I’ve done such a grand job so far,” sarcasm was beginning to become the only verbal defense that I was capable of.
He patted me on the head, at times I cannot help but wonder if he thinks of me a some sort of pet, “before you met me, you were untrained and unrefined, even if you had been there, I doubt that you could have done much that would have been effective.  You most likely would’ve died yourself.  Instead, you have become so dedicated to becoming precisely what you weren’t, that there’s not a soul in the galaxy who could defeat you now.”
He gave me quick hug, the soft warmth of his plumage comforting me in an instant.
I even began to believe him.
I had learnt to use my energy with such precision that I could create impenetrable barriers and pierce sold metal using different levels of pressure.  I had lifted the Piti over a metre off of the ground.  That is a three story ship and whilst it is constructed of lightweight alloys and polymers, apparently it weighs the same as three double decker busses, passengers and all.  I have also learnt to use my perception of other’s emotions to physically locate them from within a few miles.  The closer I get to a person the more refined their emotions become, like squashing candy-floss; the same amount is still there but there is a more solid form.
I am concerned that I am feeling too confident in myself, “pride cometh before a fall” I believe the saying goes, and, if I fall, it will be hard.
All I can do is train.

Finally.
We have had news that those responsible for the attack and their collaborators have all been apprehended.  All that remains is for the final procedures to be completed and we will be released.
Two units from now, we will board the Piti and head straight for Virrion.
Communication will be reconnected at that time to, therefore we are all going to be bombarded with messages from both before and since the incident.  It will take a lot of sorting through, I expect that we will likely have reached Virrion before we have a chance to read them all.
I am looking forward to those messages whilst being filled with unshakable dread.
I cannot stop shaking.
After Virrion, Orthus has offered a trip to Rapture for those who wish to go.
If I were to have one selfish wish for myself, it would be to go straight there.
I want to see Phillip so badly that I cannot stop thinking about it, to the point where I feel shame for thinking of my own desire above everything else.  I never even imagined that I would ever desire the mere sight of someone so much.  My strong, single past-self would be ashamed of how much of a stake I have tethered upon him, yet my present self is too emotionally drained to care.
When Orthus asked where would be best to head to first, I had to force myself to reply with, “Virrion.”
I will not be self-serving, I will put everybody else ahead of myself.  As much I have sworn to myself.

Tomorrow will be our last full day on Kenglowe.
It is such an amazing place, I wish we had been here under happier circumstances.
It is a true testament to the pursuit of education and cross-species collaboration.
I have learnt so much more than I could have even imagined and I know that the others, despite their desire to leave, have made many new friends and memories here.
My interactions with the others have been stunted.  The only people who speak to me at all are Julie, Phoebe, Laura B, Bernard and Tim, who I suspect does so because, not only does he have a kind heart, but Jennifer would want him to.
The others more or less give me the silent treatment.  They will not meet my eyes and simply move around me as though they are pretending that I do not exist.
I cannot blame them for it nor do I hold it against them.  They are in pain and experiencing a longing for the people that they love.
It is possible that some of them have lost those people.
Whenever I attempt to think of who it might be, my mind becomes blank.  My anxiety kicks in and I force myself to focus on my training.  I do not know what I would have done had I not had that to sink myself into.
It has become a coping mechanism, I fear.  I may never go another unit without spending an auxe or two honing my thoughts and senses through the energy whilst putting my body through its stances.
The future is a complete unknown.
In all honesty, for me it always had been.  I existed one day at a time, no aspirations and very little effort spent in making the following day any different.
My new future will be no different after we leave Kenglowe.  I will discover what happened to whom, I will grieve, I will help whoever needs help, I will put my everything into keeping humanity safe.
Beyond that, I know that it will become the same as before; one unit at a time, my only aspiration will be to help others, my only selfish wish for myself will be Phillip.
I know that he is alive and safe.  I believe it to my very bones.  I have to.
How he feels about me is another kettle of fish (I always found that saying a bit odd) altogether.
He may see me the same way everyone else does; with distrust and fear.
Everyone associated with me has lost so much, if not everything and now they are loosing more, it is getting increasingly difficult to believe that he will welcome me with open arms.  In my heart, I am choosing to believe that nothing will have changed between us.  My head however, is preparing me for the likely eventuality that I have lost him to.
In less than two units I will finally find out the truth.
For better or worse.
One way or another.
I have been trying to prepare my heart, yet the pesky thing rarely reacts the way that I want it to.
If it does turn out that I will have to find my path without him, I know that I will manage.  It will be like bread without butter, a roof over head but no blanket, survival without the comfort.
If there is anyone left in this galaxy that will not look at me with that pain or judgement in their eyes, it will be him.
Julie is someone that I have known for more than fifteen years, we have fallen out on occasion, yet there was never anything that could push us apart.  Now she will not meet my eyes.
Phoebe and I met through Julie, we hit it off so well that we started meeting up independently.  Over the years we have only had one real fight and we were both big enough to move past it, with no resentment on either part.  She does not avoid my eye, however I can see the pain and the thought that she will never speak; that if she had not known me, none of this would be happening to her or her family.
The love that binds us together is the very thing that has brought us to this point.
I know that I need to be understanding and I know that I cannot blame a single one of them for feeling the way they do. 
I cannot be selfish and wish for everyone to forgive me and forget my association to their suffering.
I will be strong and face my responsibilities head on.
I will not seek redemption or retribution, not a single one of my actions will be driven by the desire to have people treat me the way that they used to.  It was the person that I used to be that actively avoided others and did not bother to make more friends or meet their families out of fear.
And yet…
I know that I cannot change.
I will continue to keep to myself.
I will not get to know people or beings that I do not have to.
It makes no difference any more.
Perhaps the fewer people I know, the fewer people I can cause suffering for.
There are precious few people that I actively want to get back to, even now.
There are only a few faces and voices that I crave.
However, now I fear meeting them for that look in their eyes.
The look in their eyes that tells me that their love for me is causing them pain when their mouths cannot speak the truth.
I will feel their fear that something bad will happen to them if they stay close to me.
My one wish is that he, by some miracle, will not have that look.
My selfish, undeserved wish.
I cannot see my future, yet I know that I am not deserving of any breath beyond the next, however I choose hope.
Hope that love alone is enough.
Hope that one day in the distant future I will experience just one day, or one moment even, where I feel free.  Free of my guilt, of this burden.  Free to live any life I choose with people who love me without fear or painful association.
I wonder if such a time will ever come.
There may be away to find out.
Tomorrow I shall visit Desmosa Upgail.
Desmosa is an alive who is studying to use her Sight.
Both alive and living are capable of predicting the future.
They take into account every fact available and calculate what will happen using unimaginable computations; factoring in history, current events, personal characteristics, outside influences and every other thing that could possibly be affect the outcome.
When they tell you your future, they also give a percentage that represents the accuracy of the prediction.  There has never been a forecast future of one hundred percent, the closest there has been was ninety-nine point seven two percent.  It is incredibly rare to have a prediction that is higher than eighty-five percent, however anything less than fifty percent is not considered a prediction at all.  In which case, the being making the prediction will usually inform their client of other possibilities that they may have calculated.
Desmosa has been studying for almost a full local cycle, she is apparently fairly average in terms of the rest of her class.
She contacted me a little while back as her classmates had attempted to give predictions to a few of my companions (if they can still be referred to as such) at a local gathering.  With all information concerning the explosion’s investigation kept completely under lock and key, no one had been able to accurately predict when the lock down would be lifted.  It did not stop anyone from trying though.  At that particular gathering, a few alive had attempted to predict the fate of the humans.  There were no predictions above fifteen percent between them.  Desmosa had not been at that gathering, however she had been studying the results.  Her previous area of study had been anthropology, specializing in pre-sentient species, so she was one of the few beings in the galaxy with an actual knowledge on human beings.
She contacted me a few units ago asking if she could do a prediction for me.  Since no other alive were able to generate any accurate futures for the others, she wanted to see if her extended knowledge might provide a better foresight.  She asked me specifically because, of all of the humans currently in existence, I am the most famous.  Perhaps infamous is more appropriate.
Just before the planet lost communication, a large number of news reports came in, on both the locanet and galanet, about the destruction of the pre-sentient world of Earth, the handful of humans that had somehow escaped and their common factor; Laura MacPhaid, a human with powerful telekinetic abilities.  Umpteen media students proceeded an assault of interview requests upon everyone in this building, most of which were targeted at me.  None of the others knew the truth behind the nature of the neural link and how it was established therefore, during that first unit, they did a few interviews.  Other than joining in a group interview, which had to constantly be steered away from myself, I did no interviews for fear of what I might unwittingly let slip.  After I experienced whatever happened, everyone stopped answering the requests.
I am incredibly grateful for the lack of paparazzi photographers and intrepid journalists, there appears to be a genuine respect for privacy, from what I have seen so far.
I think that I am of more interest to Desmosa because of the link.  She mentioned that being connected to so many people may theoretically increase the accuracy of her prediction.
I have a prediction that it might not be the wisest thing to do, however if there is any chance that I can get even the slightest glimpses into the future, my future, our future, it is a chance that I have to take.