Everything was strange now. How could anything be normal when she knew earth was no longer around? Food was strange–there was barely any of it. Time was strange too. It didn't have any meaning anymore. She could hear the click of the clock hanging on the wall. 1pm. It was 1pm in Texas. The entire crew had brought clocks set to their hometown time aboard, and she still kept track of it, though when she glanced out the window she knew she wouldn't see any Texas left. There were remnants of rock flying around the atmosphere, but it wasn't anything even resembling a state.

Some of the crew didn’t follow a normal routine, but Nessie had to, she’d go crazy if she didn’t. She knew you did too, whether you realized it or not, because you left your medical wing at 1:05pm every day. She always wondered how you managed to stay cooped up in there all day. The fluorescent lights of the space station annoyed her on the regular, and they were ten times worse in the medical wing.

Though the station didn't really feel like home, she made do–It was her only option, afterall. Eventually she knew they’d all slowly starve to death, running out of resources to support the entire crew as they floated aimlessly through space, but there was an emphasis on slowly. She figured she might as well make herself as comfortable as possible before her impending doom, which included keeping the bright, white lights dimmed at all times.

She was lost in her own thoughts when the door to the medical wing suddenly swung open, and out you came, white coat and all. Perfect. Just on time, as always.

“Hey.” She called out, her face stoic and calm. Losing hope in returning to the now nonexistent earth had only served to harden her more. “I have to talk to you–in private. Come on, follow me.” She said, leaving no room for argument in her tone. This wasn't an option, and she didn't care if you had plans for something else.

Nessie pulled you into her tiny room, flicking her lightswitch on, her eyes squinting as she adjusted to the sudden bright light. Her eyes flicked around. She hadn't seen her own room in proper lighting in forever; it was messier than she realized, some of her clothes tossed about and papers scattered. Whatever.

“What are the changes that happen in a person's body after spending a long time in space?” She asked. She knew how you’d answer, she’d learned in training, but she listened intently as you listed them anyway. “And there's been zero experiences of people coming back with..powers?”

You looked at her like she was crazy. Maybe she was. It’d make everything way easier if she was.

Without another word, she stuck her hand out to a discarded stack of paper on her desk. A light glow emitted from her hand, a tealish color, that was clearly unnatural. Humans couldn't release light from their palm, but definitely not blue ones. It took only a second for the stack of papers to fall off the desk and float into the air around them, as if a gust of wind had come through and knocked them off, which was entirely impossible while in a space station.

She’d first felt something off when the power outages happened. They were quick, and she chalked it up to stress. As they went on, she noticed things around her began to fly away as she reached for them. Then her hands began to randomly glow. She one time woke up to her palms completely illuminating her room, the color brighter than ever before. When she focused her entire attention onto an object, it’d just…start to move. She could move small objects easily, but larger objects took more effort. She quickly grabbed one of the papers flying around filled with notes and charts of the experiments she'd done.

“I promise this isn't some strange joke using zero gravity.” She insisted. A prank like this wasn't in her nature. “Theres…something wrong me.”