Starlight Cove High School,
Principality of Pāla | May 2047

I used to always be afraid of looking up at the Stars. So much so, that I would deliberately tilt my Head down at Night, just to get some Almond Milk from out of the Garage. 'Astrophobia', as the Psychiatric Inquisition liked to call it.

There's something about being at the Mercy of an all-encompassing, ultra-massive super-Organism that just terrifies the absolute living Lights out of me. A Force that is capable of squashing you like a little Bug with the Fist of an Asteroid Collision, or vaporizing you at the Whims of a Gamma Ray Burst, shooting through the Edges of the Milky Way Galaxy... headed straight towards Earth.

Some like to call it the Universe. Others would refer to it as Allah – the Prometheans, and the Muslims. (Refer to [Him], rather.)

"Allah is the Mightiest!" my Classmates would chant, and repeat after the Teacher. And I would be inclined to agree, personally.

Unlike the Muslims, the Prometheans do not consider the Prophet Mohammed (peace be upon him) to be the last of all the Prophets. This is because the Prophet Mohammed is a [Human] Prophet, and virtually none of the Followers of the Promethean Faith could be considered Human in the usual sense of the Word.

We are [Kiranites], not Terrans (the politically correct Term for the Human Race). Kiranites are descended from the Heavens, and it's certainly [not] because we're somehow above everybody else. Quite the contrary – we were cast into this Dirt-Hole... into this Meat-Grinder, this Hell Realm, as a result of our collective Rebellion, and Defiance of the Gods.

We were also cursed with the Human Form – this smelly, stinky Meat-suit full of Warts, and Wrinkles. One that requires the occasional beheading of a Fish, or the cracking of the Shell of a Quail Fetus in order to obtain our daily Dose of Vitamin B12, and non-negotiable Omega 3 Fatty Acids. Unlike our 'Breatharian' Ancestors who seemed to do just fine with Oxygen, Blue Light and Ultra-violet Radiation from their central Star (the YZ Ceti Solar System, located in the Cetus Constellation; orbited by Planet Kīran, and two others).

...But with that out of the way – neither the Kiranites, nor the Promethean Zealots would consider me to be much great of a Role Model. I am a Transwoman. I slept through nearly all of my Exams, and Homework Assignments. I had Sex with a Guy inside of the Gym Locker Room, while dressed up as Lady Gaga... and after being told to use the Men's Bathroom by a bunch of Schoolyard Bullies. (On my 16th Birthday, luckily...)

To my surprise, I didn't actually like it. I liked the [idea] of it, and the build up to the moment... but not how I felt afterward. I'm as outwardly feminine as a Transwoman can get – but I tend to be a lot more Romantically involved with other Girls, than anyone else. In addition to being somewhat of a Tomboy, and wearing long sleeves in the middle of Summer.

I also listen to Terran Rock'n Roll, and American Pop Music, as you may have already figured out – which is actually banned and heavily filtered by the Great Firewall of Pāla.

...

Does this mean that I was somehow traumatized by my early Youth? Not at all. Kiranites rarely experience long-lasting Trauma. If anything – we actively seek it out, within the bounds of Reason, and... *cough, cough* Decency.

Back in the Human World – people were all about Trauma, and playing the Victim. Someone would do something bad to somebody else. That person would grow up to resent the World... walking around with some kind of Inferiority Complex, and then go on to do bad things to others. Whether it's School Shooters, wannabe crypto-Nazis, or Netanyahu's Zionist Henchmen. And the Cycle would just repeat... on, and on, and on.

...6 years later – I now work part-time as a Teacher, here at Starlight Cove High School – the same School I was originally expelled from, for my unruly behavior. An iPad Kid from Generation Alpha, teaching the Monochrome e-Paper Kids from Generation Beta.

"Hey, I know you!" one of the Boys raised his Hand, with a Rubber Band wrapped around his Fingers, and a thick Piece of folded Paper wedged in-between, on the first Day of our Analytics Class. "...How the Hell did [you] manage to earn back your Reputation?"

He stretched the loaded Projectile, and fired his improvised Slingshot right at my Face – though he soon found out that the Laws of Physics weren't all they were cracked up to be – for it all froze up mid-air, and burned upon entry to my personal Space. With bits of Ashes snowing down onto the Notebooks of the Kids sat along the Front Row.

"Bro, did you see that?" ...yet another Palestinian Boy muttered from the opposite side of the Room, where shelves adorned with Vintage Computers stood on Display. "She just did Telekinesis!"

"Are you gonna teach us how to do it?" the Dutch Girl at the Front Row had inquired, as she dusted off her Shoulders with her little red Scarf.

"If you manage to sit still for three-quarters of an Hour, and complete today's Assignments – I probably will." I replied to them.

...

"Back where I was born – People used to [hate] Teachers." I went off on a Monologue, while handing out my Exercise Sheets with an assorted Range of Maths, Geometry and Coding Problems for the Class to solve.

"The Neoliberal Capitalists destroyed every single Trace of our Public Education system, leaving Nothing but isolated Pockets of Homeschooled, 'Amish', Luddite Communities, who couldn't even agree on the Basics as it pertains to our Objective, Material Reality."

"...and then guess what happened to the Society as a whole?" I paused, and laid the last Exercise Sheet on top of the Dutch Girl's Book-Stack.

"It collapsed! It descended into Chaos, and Anarchy. It would be cliche for me to call it the Fall of Ancient Rome two-point-oh, but that's exactly how it played out. And to be fair – I'm kind of glad that it did. Because it [had] to happen. It was a no-good 'Society' where nobody got along, and nobody spoke Face-to-Face anymore."

"We as Kiranites have to be [a lot more] Cunning, Conscientious, Ambitious and Industrious than our Terran Counterparts on the other Side of the World. Otherwise – we will all get chewed up, and spit out. This is [not] to say that we should be viewing ourselves as Victims, or sitting Ducks. We are a Warrior Race above all – we expect the absolute Worse that could ever happen to us, and then we Welcome it. So that absolutely [nothing] can hurt us, or take us by Surprise... unless you really want to be taken by Surprise, of course!"

...

Martial Arts Tournament Hall,
Principality of Pāla | June 2047

It was Fighting Season on the Island, once again. Young Men and Women from ages 18... 20... all the way to 25 were gathered in Circles, performing the Pālave⃑an Haka – our very own unique Spin of the World-renowned Māori War-Dance, brought to us by the late Princess Khan – the founding Mother of our South Pacific Island Nation, who died by Sleep Strike in Ofer Prison, Israeli-Occupied West Bank (20 years ago, 2027). It was our turn as College Students to shine on the Spotlight, and mop the Floor with our Opponents.

"Guys, look who it is again!" two of the Boys who I'd known in High School taunted me from the Balcony, on the second Floor of the Building.

"It's that Slut from back in our Gym Class!" ...they continued to whisper among themselves. It was a Tiny Island Nation, after all.

"Why pick on Lisa? Why is Bullying so prevalent on this Island?" a 21-year-old Brunette had commented, blowing the Steam off her Bowl of Noodles – watching the whole thing unfold from afar, through the Window of the Cafeteria – all dressed up in her Karate Robe, ready to fight. Her name was Alzira Khan; one of the 8 Descendants of Princess Khan.

"Because Life is War." said Ahmad, a young Palestinian Man, roughly the same age as her. Sitting opposite to her on the round Table.

"...Life is War. Life is Combat. Life is Bloodshed, and ceaseless Struggle. The strongest Organisms thrive, and the Weak perish – and there's nothing you can do about it... but [fight]."

"I thought this was supposed to be some kind of enlightened, civil Society though?" Alzira rolled her Eyes, and shook her Head ever so slightly – as the Announcers rang the Bell, and called out the Names of the two, through the giant Loudspeakers on the Corners of the Hall.

"It's just a Game, sis." he scratched his Chin, and then grabbed a hold of his Backpack. "It's our turn to fight. Let's go!"

...

The Game was on. Ahmad and Alzira locked Eyes against each other, and raised their Fists. Time began to slow down significantly. There were more than half a million duplicates, and parallel versions of Ahmad surrounding Alzira. Every Phantom, and every Spectre would try out a different move, until the overwhelming majority of them would come to an agreement as to which move would yield the greatest chance at defeating Alzira, with the least amount of Effort.

Alzira, on the other hand, was playing a more defensive Strategy – one based around Prediction, more so than Manifestation. Even though the two can often become intertwined as a result of Retro-Causality; A rather strange Phenomenon for the Layman to have to wrap their Head around.

"That's how Telekinesis, and Teleportation, actually works." I explained to the Analytics Class, back in Starlight High. "You're essentially only Predicting where the Object will be traveling next, and then positioning yourself in a manner that allows you to catch it, and even alter its Trajectory with greater Ease..."

"...And what about Teleportation?" the Dutch Girl rubbed her forehead, somewhat baffled, and skeptical.

"Same principle. Just with your whole Body." I elaborated, and made my way over to the digitized, e-Ink Chalkboard.

"You do not simply 'vanish' from New York, in order to appear in Paris. Rather – your Brain will travel through the Quantum Realm in order to figure out the myriad of ways that it can get from New York, to Paris, before it chooses the path of least Action. And because you were so busy over-clocking your brain in order to arrive at your next move – you don't even remember how you got there in the first place! But other observers generally will..."

"So that means... we don't actually get to impress anybody, because nobody will believe us?" she frowned.

"Exactly." I said to her. "If you wanna impress People – go be a Singer, a Dancer, or a Circus Clown. If you wish to actively re-shape your Reality, and get stuff done as fast and as efficiently as possible, you make use of Psionics. If you wanna enjoy your Life... then you slow down, and smell the Roses instead. It's that simple!"

"But how come... we just saw you doing Telekinesis!" the Palestinian Boys at the back of the Room protested.

"Because I reacted to your moves a lot faster than your Eyes could see." I explained to them. "I already knew you were going to sling a paper Bullet at me with your rubber band thingy, even before I entered the Classroom. So I tricked you into picking the paper bullet that had a fire cracker hidden inside of it – the same one you were going to use in order to prank the rest of the Class."

"I already know - you - better - than - you - know - yourself..." I quietly sang under my breath, pacing along the edge of the Balcony, watching Ahmed and Alzira continue to fight, and blink from one place to another – like Crickets, and Shooting Stars.

"Psionics, to that effect, is nothing more than [above-average Intellectual Capability]... But regardless. I didn't come here in order to live vicariously through my Students, and Classmates..."

"...I came here in order to greet the Archons – who are due to arrive on the Island, at any given moment."

"We really have no business being here right now."