Morning crept in through the curtains, painting the room in soft golden hues.


    I regained consciousness slowly, awareness returning before mobility. The paralysis was long gone, but exhaustion clung to my bones, and a gnawing hunger boiled in my stomach.


    Jade was still wrapped around me like a koala, though she’d shifted in her sleep. Her head now rested in the crook of my left arm, using it as a makeshift pillow. One arm was slung across my torso, her fingers tangled in the fabric of my borrowed sweatshirt. Her hair, dried into an untamed mess during the night, tickled my face. One of her legs was still firmly hooked over mine, pinning me in place—not that I wished otherwise anyway.


    I barely opened my eyes to glance at her, her peaceful expression was brighter than the sunlight pooling in the room, her soft breaths rhythmic and calming.


    A quiet snore escaped her lips, making me fight back a smile. Who knew the usually composed Jade could make such an undignified sound? Her shoulder had slipped free of the oversized tshirt she wore, the sunlight gilding her exposed skin in a way that made her seem otherworldly.


    I tried to carefully extract my numb arm from under her head, wincing as pins and needles danced along my fingers. Jade stirred, letting out a soft sound of protest, her brows knitting together as she shifted. For a brief moment, I froze, afraid I’d woken her, but her breathing evened out again. Taking the chance, I reached out with my free hand to gently brush away a few stray strands of hair obscuring her face. My fingertips lingered as I tucked them behind her ear. Without thinking, my palm cradled her cheek. Her skin was impossibly soft, like snow warmed by sunlight.


    Her eyelids fluttered at touch, her body tensing slightly. Perhaps, she realized exactly where—and on whom—she''d been sleeping.


    For a moment, the world stilled. We just stared at each other, unspoken words crowding the space between us.


    A redness crept across her cheeks, soft and rosy. She didn’t pull away, didn’t look down. Instead, she whispered, her voice rough with sleep, “Let’s just… stay like this for a little longer, okay?”


    I managed to rasp out, “Okay.” My heart pounded in my chest, louder than I’d like to admit. Would she be happy if I told her I wanted to stay like this even more than she did? Were we still just friends? Or were we crossing into something more? The lines between us felt blurry, undefined, and it was as terrifying as it was exciting. Why did some feelings need to be said out loud anyway? Weren’t actions louder than words? My eyes briefly flicked to her lips—dry from sleep, yet oddly captivating. A stray thought urged me to close the small space between us, but I clamped down on it, hard.


    Stay still, I told myself. Don’t ruin this.


    Minutes stretched into something closer to an hour as we remained locked together, neither of us willing to move first.


    Her arm remained slung over me, her leg hooked over mine as if she were anchoring herself in place. It felt like a game of unspoken rules, driven by stubbornness and something deeper we didn’t dare name. I guessed we were both equally obstinate, refusing to let go of each other, instead our gaze hardening as time dragged on. It wasn’t until we both realized we couldn’t breathe properly—our chests rising and falling in shallow gasps—that we finally relented, releasing the tension in unison.


    By the time afternoon rolled around, the sun had shifted from peeking into the room to wandering elsewhere, leaving us in a softer light.


    I sat cross-legged on the floor, phone in hand, staring at the ticket in my palm. With a deep breath, I typed the numbers into the lottery website and hit "submit."


    For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a soft hum, the phone emitted a beam of light, projecting a massive hologram into the air above me.


    The room was immediately filled with celebratory animations—bright, loud, and utterly over-the-top. Fireworks of neon reds, yellows, and blues exploded in three-dimensional arcs across the room. Giant, cartoonish coins rained down in shimmering holographic gold, clinking as they hit invisible surfaces. A spinning jackpot wheel rotated in midair, flashing the words: “FIRST PRIZE WINNER!" in obnoxiously large letters. Confetti cannons erupted in simulated bursts, showering the space with holographic streamers that swirled around like they had a life of their own.


    The sound wasn’t any subtler. Trumpets blared, drums rolled, and a synthetic voice boomed, “CONGRATULATIONS! YOU’VE WON THE GRAND PRIZE!”


    The colors and noise were overwhelming, almost suffocating, as they danced across every corner of the room.


    But instead of joy, I felt... nothing. Exhaustion, maybe. A hollow ache in the pit of my stomach dulled whatever excitement might have surfaced. Memories of yesterday’s misfortune—fists flying, shouted threats, and the endless scrambling—played back in my mind. The bruises on my ribs twinged as if to remind me of the cost. With a sigh, I waved my hand through the projection, silencing the fanfare and dissolving the holographic confetti mid-fall. The room dimmed as the visuals faded, leaving only the faint glow of the application interface floating in the air. I focused on uploading the required documents and linking a bank account, relieved to see that the process allowed anonymity. Small blessings, I supposed.


    The soft creak of the door pulled my attention. Jade entered, carrying two cups of coffee, the scent wafting ahead of her like a comforting balm.


    She froze mid-step when she noticed the lingering hologram text hovering in the air.


    “Wow,” she said, her voice full of awe as her gaze swept over the remnants of the display. “They really go all out, huh?”


    “Yeah,” I muttered, dismissing the last of the holograms with a swipe. “A bit much.”


    Jade walked over, handing me one of the steaming cups. “Well, it’s not every day someone wins the grand prize.” She settled beside me, her radiant mood almost tangible.


    Her joy was infectious; she practically hummed with happiness as she took a sip from her cup. She had her own reason to be on cloud nine, having redeemed her tickets earlier for a significant win.


    “What are you going to do with so much money?” she asked, her silver eyes glinting with curiosity.


    I shrugged, turning the coffee cup in my hands. “I don’t know yet,” I admitted. Then, with a small grin, I added, “Maybe we can finally get those professional hero suits we always talked about.”


    Her eyes lit up like she’d just been handed a ticket to her dream life. “Really?” she gasped, her voice leaping an octave as she sat forward, nearly spilling her coffee in her excitement.


    “Really,” I said, unable to suppress a smile.


    The pure delight radiating from her was infectious, washing away some of my earlier melancholy. Jade was so easy to please, I thought. Seeing her genuinely happy like this made the bruises and chaos of the past day feel almost worth it. Almost.


    The rest of our day passed by quietly.


    <hr>


    The next day, I headed out early to meet the new friends I’d recently made. The early start was essential; none of us wanted to risk getting stuck in traffic on the way to the SuperNot Convention. I’d asked Aunt Grace about her opinion on the event, and she’d spoken highly of it, fondly recounting how she used to attend every year during university. Apparently, she’d even set up her own show booth once, which she described as both exhilarating and exhausting.


    I wasn’t sure how much to believe her words, but I had to admit, her life sounded far more exciting than mine. So, I’d taken her advice to heart and dressed accordingly—casual yet sharp, ready for whatever the day brought.


    Henry pulled up in his SUV just five minutes after I stepped outside. Sliding into the back passenger seat, I greeted Vinico, who was already in the front seat. Despite his foul-mouthed and blunt nature, I’d come to see that he wasn’t bad at heart—otherwise, this group of friends wouldn’t tolerate him.


    “Morning,” I said, closing the door behind me.


    “Morning,” Vinico said, glancing up from his phone. His sharp eyes lingered on me for a moment before he leaned forward slightly, his tone laced with curiosity. “So, how’s the day gonna go? You’re the one with the magic gut feeling. What are we in for?”


    Henry perked up at the question, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah, what’s the verdict?”


    I shifted in my seat, pretending to adjust my bag. “It’ll be fine,” I said with a casual shrug. “Should be a good day for all of us.”


    Of course, I had lied. If I start living everyday based on what my Likeness showed me, perhaps I wouldn’t even be willing to exit the house to avoid trouble.


    Vinico narrowed his eyes. “You’re full of it. What’s the catch?”


    “There’s no catch,” I replied, keeping my voice even. “If there was, I’d say something. You know me better than that.”


    Henry grinned, waiting for me to close the door before pulling away from the curb. “That’s good enough for me. A good day is all I need to hear. What about you, Vinico? You satisfied, or are you gonna keep badgering him?”


    Vinico leaned back, crossing his arms with a mock pout. “I’m just saying, the guy can tell if we’re about to get stuck in traffic or struck by lightning. You’d think he’d give us a heads-up if something crazy was gonna happen.”


    “Maybe,” I said with a faint smile. “Or maybe I just want to see how you handle it.”


    Vinico shrugged, going back to scrolling through his phone.


    We still had to pick up Alex, Lore, Jade, and Gina before the traffic got bad. After forty minutes, the SUV was packed, buzzing with chatter and excitement as Henry steered us toward the convention. Vinico rode shotgun, playing amateur DJ while alternating between skipping songs and fielding groans of protest from the rest of us. In the second row, Alex sat in the middle, flanked by Lore on one side and me on the other. Much to Gina’s delight, she and Jade were sitting together in the back row.


    There was still an hour and a half left on the route, so we could only pass time by conversing and playing games.


    “My aunt mentioned that anyone can set up their own booth at the carnival. Is that true?” I asked curiously, turning my head slightly to address the group.


    “Do you want to set up a fortune-reading booth, North? Let everyone know if their day’s going to be ‘good’ or ‘bad’?”


    I shook my head. “Not really,” I replied, then paused thoughtfully. “But, if it’s fun, I could give it a try.”


    “You’d have to register ahead of time on their website,” Vinico chimed in, his usual bluntness tempered with actual helpfulness for once.


    That made sense. I realized I could’ve just searched for this information myself online but figured I’d become a bit lazier recently. Still, the conversation gave me a better idea of how things worked.


    From the corner of my eye, I glanced back at Jade. She was wearing a vibrant red cardigan with 3D flower-shaped accents, layered over a crisp white collared shirt and finished with a sleek black tie. Paired with her baggy dark blue jeans and a brown vintage handbag, her look was effortlessly chic, a perfect mix of grunge and romantic style. Our eyes kept meeting more frequently as the trip went on, and each time, I felt a pang of something unspoken. I wasn’t sure if the others noticed, but Gina definitely did.


    When our eyes met again, Gina caught it and gave me a sly, knowing smile. Her expression all but screamed, I see you.


    I felt a surge of frustration, my lips twitching despite my best efforts to appear unaffected. What does she want from me?


    Deep down, I wanted to yell that I wished I could sit next to Jade, that I’d give anything to swap places and share the ride with her. But, of course, I couldn’t say that out loud. Instead, I sighed inwardly, resigning myself to the situation. Gina wasn’t going to let this go, and I knew it, but I resolved to stay quiet.


    Still, I promised myself that I would make sure we sat together while returning, so we could hold hands.


    By nine o’clock, we finally arrived at the SuperNot Convention, an event with a reputation that preceded it.


    Among the wealthy and those with good meta natures, it was often referred to as the “Freak Show.” Honestly, the name fit.


    The sheer variety of people, powers, and personalities milling about made the nickname feel less like an insult and more like a statement of fact. The entrance was chaotic, packed with a dizzying array of attendees. A long line snaked its way toward the main event area, and even from outside, I could see glimpses of what awaited us: flashing lights, towering booths, and costumed figures posing for pictures.


    Judging by the crowd and the layout, the entire convention was spread over an impressively large area.


    “What a headache,” Vinico grumbled as we joined the line.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Even though we’d purchased tickets online, the queue to get in stretched on forever. Henry groaned audibly, Alex leaned heavily on Lore, and Gina was scrolling through her phone, her face scrunched in boredom.


    Yet, I couldn’t find it in me to complain. Jade stood just in front of me. She’d brought a Polaroid camera with her and was snapping pictures of people dressed in elaborate hero and anime costumes. The excitement in her eyes was palpable.


    “What’s with the camera?” Vinico asked, craning his neck to look at her. “Didn’t think you were into vintage stuff.”


    Jade paused and turned to him, “Polaroids are timeless. Besides, this convention is full of color and energy—perfect for instant photos. It’s about capturing the moment.”


    Vinico snorted. “Capturing the moment? You sound like a Hallmark card.”


    “It’s called having an appreciation for art,” Jade shot back, undeterred. “You should try it sometime.”


    Before Vinico could retort, Jade turned back toward the line and raised her camera again, searching for her next subject.


    Suddenly, Jade spun back to me without warning, her Polaroid camera raised. “Hold still!” she said, her voice brimming with mischief.


    “What—wait!” I started, but it was too late. The flash went off, catching me completely off-guard.


    The whir of the Polaroid filled the brief silence as the photo printed, and Jade pulled it free with a triumphant grin. She held it by the edges, waving it lightly to let it develop. Her gaze was fixed on the image, and a soft laugh escaped her lips.


    “Not bad,” she said, her tone playful but warm.


    I crossed my arms, still reeling from being caught so off-guard. “Let me see,” I demanded, leaning closer.


    She stepped back, clutching the photo to her chest like it was a priceless treasure. “No way. I’m keeping this one.”


    “Seriously?” I asked, half-exasperated but mostly amused. “You can’t just ambush me like that and then refuse to show me the evidence.”


    Jade tilted her head, pretending to consider. “Hmm, I don’t know. It’s a pretty great shot. Might just keep it for blackmail purposes.”


    I rolled my eyes. “Oh, come on. At least tell me how bad it is.”


    Her teasing smile softened slightly as she finally relented, holding the photo out toward me.


    The picture showed me mid-protest, my eyes wide and my mouth slightly open, caught in a moment of pure, unguarded awkwardness. I looked ridiculous—but not as ridiculous as I’d feared.


    Jade leaned in, her shoulder brushing against mine as she peered at the photo in my hand. “See? It’s not bad at all,” she said, her voice quieter now.


    She grabbed the photo like a ninja while I was left staring at her. She gave it a quick glance before slipping it into her handbag with practiced ease. Her actions were so casual, yet she looked almost mischievously adorable. The way she acted, like she’d just stolen something precious, left me feeling strangely flustered. Criminally cute, I thought, shaking my head with a small, helpless smile.


    “What?” Jade asked, catching the look on my face as she adjusted the strap of her Polaroid camera.


    “Nothing,” I said quickly, though I knew my attempt to play it cool.


    Her lips curved into a faint smirk, as if she could read my mind. “You’re terrible at lying.”


    “Am I?” I shot back, feigning nonchalance. “Maybe I just don’t think you need to know what I’m thinking.”


    Her laughter was soft, and she rolled her eyes, “Sure, keep your secrets, North.”


    I chuckled, looking away to hide the growing warmth in my face.


    Through my vision, the entire convention appeared like a living kaleidoscope. The Likeness of the place and its people swirled with vibrant hues. Costumed heroes posed for photos, trailing streaks of golden opportunity as their fans snapped pictures. Food vendors’ stalls radiated warm, inviting oranges, drawing crowds with promises of indulgence. The security checkpoints pulsed with sharp, alert blues. Everywhere I looked, the rainbow shimmer of countless meta abilities mixed and mingled, creating a dazzling, chaotic symphony of color.


    Satisfied that everything appeared fine—no immediate signs of danger or misfortune—I returned my focus to the present. For once, it seemed like there wouldn’t be any trouble.


    Jade paused a few feet ahead, lifting her camera and snapping a photo of a trio dressed in elaborate hero costumes. The flash caught their attention, and they turned, striking dramatic poses as Jade laughed and gestured her thanks.


    “Making friends already?” I teased as I caught up to her.


    “They make it easy,” she replied, still smiling as she checked the photo. “People come here to show off. It’s like… a visual feast.”


    “It’s definitely something,” I agreed, my gaze wandering over the crowd.


    Leaning closer, I lowered my voice. “Let me take one of you?”


    Jade paused, glancing at me with mild happiness before handing over the Polaroid camera without hesitation. “Sure.”


    Unlike others who might have struck a dramatic or playful pose, she simply stood still. Her hands rested at her sides, and her expression softened into a faint smile, one that carried a quiet intensity.


    Her silver eyes locked on mine, and for a moment, it felt like she was looking past the lens and into me.


    Without another word, I clicked the button.


    "Take one with me!" Gina suddenly burst in, wrapping her arms around Jade''s shoulders.


    Dammit - the intrusion annoyed me more than it should have. As if she’d just ruined my perfect little moment. Jade turned to look at me, her expression unreadable but calm. I hesitated, the camera still in my hands, silently asking her permission.


    With a small nod, she gave it. “Go ahead,” she said softly.


    Gina grinned, dragging Jade into a playful pose. “Come on, North. Get the angle right—we’re relying on your artistic genius here.”


    I bit back a sigh and raised the camera again. “Smile.”


    Before I knew it, everyone wanted their picture taken, one by one. “Ooh, take one of me and Alex!” Lore chimed in, pulling Alex into an exaggerated hero pose.


    “I call next!” Henry said, grabbing Vinico by the shoulder and attempting a candid, though Vinico rolled his eyes in mock protest.


    The quiet snapshot session spiraled into a full-blown photoshoot. For the next twenty minutes, I clicked away, taking single pictures, group photos, posed shots, and unexpected candids. Despite my initial reluctance, I didn’t really mind. Everyone was having fun, and the mood was infectious.


    When the group finally lost steam, we approached the security entrance.


    Nearby, a vendor had set up a stall overflowing with colorful hats, face masks, hero costume accessories, and other trinkets. The display was eye-catching, a burst of color and whimsy that seemed to pull us in like moths to a flame.


    “Okay, I need these,” Gina declared, grabbing a pair of rabbit ear headbands and plopping them onto her head. Lore quickly followed suit, donning a matching pair.


    “Cute,” Jade remarked, her voice light with amusement.


    “You say that now,” Lore said, pointing to the row of cat ears. “But I bet those would look amazing on you.”


    Jade raised an eyebrow but stepped closer to the display, her curiosity piqued.


    “You should try them,” I blurted out before I could stop myself.


    Jade turned to me, a glimmer of surprise in her eyes, but she didn’t protest. Instead, she picked up a pair of sleek black cat ears and slipped them on.


    “Wow,” Henry said, nudging my arm. “She pulls it off, huh?”


    “Perfect,” Gina chimed in, giving Jade an exaggerated thumbs-up. “North, you’re going to want to take another picture of that.”


    “Yeah,” I managed, keeping my voice steady. “They suit you.”


    I turned back to the stall, pretending to browse as my thoughts spiraled. The accessories were undeniably silly, but they suited everyone surprisingly well. I ended up picking a pair of cat ears for myself—partly because everyone else was grabbing something, but mostly because Jade was wearing hers. Henry and Vinico opted for dog ears, laughing as they tried to outdo each other with mock growls and barks.


    Click!


    The sound of a photo being taken snapped me out of my mind. Jade was still holding her Polaroid camera, a cheeky smile playing on her lips. She’d taken my picture—again.


    “Really?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.


    “What?” she replied innocently, slipping the photo into her bag with that same mischievous grin. “You looked like you were lost in thought. Couldn’t waste the opportunity.”


    Shouldn’t I be the one taking her photos? It struck me as charmingly backward - usually, it was boys taking candid photos of girls they liked, not the other way around. But then again, everything about Jade seemed to operate on its own unique rules. Not one to be outdone, I pulled out my phone, determined to turn the tables.


    “Two can play at this game,” I said, holding up my camera app.


    Her eyes widened slightly, but she quickly recovered, tilting her head and pretending to strike a dramatic pose. “Go ahead,” she challenged.


    I snapped the picture, catching her mid-laugh when she broke character.


    “You two are so weird,” Gina said, adjusting her rabbit ear headband. “Just exchange numbers already.”


    Jade stiffened slightly, her cheeks dusted with faint pink. She tried to play it off, brushing a strand of silver hair behind her ear, but the way she avoided Gina’s gaze was telling. I, on the other hand, pretended Gina didn’t exit in my world, focusing instead on capturing another candid shot of Jade. She was trying to act like nothing was amiss.


    Besides, weren’t we past all this? Phone numbers and casual flirtation seemed trivial now—after all, we’d already slept together and cuddled. Did I really need to spell it out?


    After about fifteen more minutes, we finally entered the convention. To my surprise, the first hall alone was enormous, with endless rows of stalls and shops. It was immediately clear that it would take hours just to explore this section. The number of people inside dwarfed the already large crowd we’d seen outside.


    The very first stall caught my attention. A young woman, probably in her early twenties, stood at the center of a small crowd, demonstrating her unique meta ability. I stopped to watch, curiosity pulling me closer. She was changing the appearance of a person in front of her—but not in the way I’d first assumed.


    “She’s not actually altering them,” I murmured, leaning slightly toward Jade. “It’s holographic.”


    Jade tilted her head, intrigued. “It looks so real.”


    The girl’s power was mesmerizing. Through my perception, I could see her constructing an incredibly detailed holographic shell around her volunteer. It didn’t just mimic their movements; it almost seemed alive, shifting seamlessly as the person moved. The result was convincing enough to make them look like a living cartoon character.


    “It’s more than just a projection,” I added, narrowing my focus. “There’s some kind of presence to it. Like a faint force field.”


    Jade glanced at me, her silver eyes sparkling with interest. “Think she’s boosting their confidence too? That guy looks like he’s having the time of his life.”


    She wasn’t wrong. The volunteer—a lanky man now encased in a superhero-style hologram—was grinning ear to ear as he struck exaggerated poses, drawing cheers from the small audience.


    “It’s clever,” I said, stepping back as more people gathered. “Imagine using that in a fight. You’d never know if you were targeting the person or just the shell.”


    Jade hummed in agreement, her gaze lingering on the demonstration. Then, after a moment, she turned her camera toward the girl and took a quick picture.


    We moved past the hologram stall as a group, our cat and dog ears already making us look enough like a wandering menagerie without adding cartoon transformations to the mix – we didn’t need to adopt any more identities.


    The SuperNot Convention was, at its heart, a celebration of people with minor meta natures. It aimed to showcase and encourage those whose powers weren’t earth-shattering but still had value in their uniqueness; it was about finding beauty and utility in the small things. It was also a hub for niche talents—a crossroads where meta individuals could network, get hired for their rare abilities, or simply share their craft with a curious audience.


    A cozy little tea shop setup caught our attention next. It was tucked between louder, flashier stalls but stood out precisely because of its simplicity. Behind the counter stood a man who looked to be in his late forties, his salt-and-pepper hair giving him a distinguished, almost sage-like air.


    His meta nature was deceptively simple but fascinating: he could create tea out of thin air.


    As we watched, he placed an empty cup on the counter, raised his hand with a practiced motion, and—pop!—a steaming cup of tea materialized instantly.


    A Brit’s dream come true, I thought, suppressing a chuckle.


    The tea cups were free, inviting passersby to experience the man’s talent firsthand. Each of us picked one up, the warmth of the cup spreading through our palms. As we were about to take a sip, the man spoke again, his voice rich with a quiet confidence. “Think of the best tea you’ve ever had in your life,” he said, his knowing smile suggesting he’d already seen what would happen next.


    Curious, I did as he instructed. I closed my eyes for a moment, recalling the rich, deep flavor of the best tea I’d ever tasted.


    To my shock and delight, the tea in my cup matched that memory perfectly. It tasted exactly like the best tea I’d ever had—warm, comforting, and nostalgic. I opened my eyes to see the others having similar reactions.


    Gina exclaimed loudly, “This is insane! How does it know?!”


    “It’s tied to memory,” the man explained, clearly used to the reactions. “Your mind does most of the work; my tea simply brings it to life.”


    Henry raised his cup in mock salute. “This is some next-level comfort food. Or drink, I guess.”


    Before we moved on, I made sure to take one of the man’s business cards. His cafe was somewhere in the city, and unlike most business cards I collected out of politeness, I actually intended to visit this one.


    The next stall drew us in with its delicate beauty. A man in his thirties was folding paper cranes, frogs, and flowers with his bare hands—but with a twist. His meta nature allowed the origami to come to life for a few moments before returning to its original form.


    We watched as he folded a small bird, then breathed over it gently. The paper crane fluttered its wings and hopped from his hand, circling the table like a real bird before settling back down and becoming paper again.


    “Can we try?” Jade asked, clearly fascinated.


    “Of course,” the man said, sliding a stack of colorful paper toward us.


    I fumbled through my attempt at folding a paper dog, only for it to look more like a crumpled blob. Still, when I breathed over it as instructed, it barked once before collapsing into a sad pile of paper.


    Jade, on the other hand, folded a butterfly. She seemed surprisingly good a folding origami. When the man activated it, the butterfly flitted gracefully around her head, its paper wings catching the light.


    “That’s adorable,” Gina said, clapping her hands. “I want to make one!”


    Her attempt was... abstract, but the resulting paper blob managed to roll awkwardly across the table like a tumbleweed.


    “Totally useless in a fight,” Vinico muttered. “But, I mean, it’s cute.”


    Further down the aisle, we came across a stall that was somehow both fascinating and utterly useless. An older woman sat in a rocking chair with a pair of knitting needles in her hands. At first glance, it didn’t seem like she was knitting anything at all, but the sign overhead read: “The Invisible Knitter: Warmth Without Weight!”


    Curious, we stopped to watch. “What exactly are you knitting?” Jade asked, tilting her head.


    “Invisible scarves, hats, and mittens,” the woman replied with a proud smile. “Completely weightless, but oh-so-cozy. Try one!”


    She handed Gina what appeared to be thin air. Gina hesitated before miming wrapping the “scarf” around her neck.


    “It actually feels warm,” Gina said, her voice tinged with disbelief.


    I reached out cautiously, and sure enough, the “fabric” felt soft and radiated gentle warmth. “How... does this even work?” I asked.


    The woman chuckled. “It’s my meta nature. I knit with threads of warmth. No actual material needed!”


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    We were all stunned and eager to buy something, but unfortunately, the old woman didn’t sell her creations, so nothing was for sale.


    The next stall had an office theme, complete with a desk and stacks of paper. The meta running it, a middle-aged man in a tie, claimed he could shred any piece of paper with a single touch.


    “Need to destroy sensitive documents? I’m your guy,” he said confidently.


    “Okay, but... why not just use an actual shredder?” Vinico asked, raising an eyebrow. It also sounded rude, given people had no control whatsoever over what meta nature they formed.


    “Shredders jam. I don’t.” The man reached out to a piece of paper and ran his finger down the middle. Instantly, it fell into perfectly even strips.


    Gina handed him a flyer she’d picked up earlier. “Can you shred this?”


    The man grinned, running his finger across the flyer. It shredded instantly, the strips fluttering to the ground.


    “Well, I guess that’s... something,” I said, struggling to find a compliment.