A single touch is all it takes. You feel the energy surge into your body, buzzing and sparking in your gut and the tips of your fingers, making you light headed. A rush of elation fills your head. You can achieve anything. Anything at all. All you have to do is wish it.
A massive thud like a bomb going off brings you lurching back to reality. Lumps of the ceiling crash down around you and dust fills the air. The building is shaken violently as something impacts against the outside again and again. It sounds like the place is being shelled.
The clay-faced man grabs the Broker by the arm. "We go now!" He resists, pushing the other man away, drawing the pistol from within his jacket.
An alien language booms through the air. "What's happening? What the hell is that!" you scream.
"Those things are the Monitors of reality," the Broker bellows back. "They're like multiverse police. They seek out and destroy threats to reality." He levels the gun at your head. "People like you."
"What! But I'm not - " Realization dawns. "You bastard! Whatever you gave me, take it back!"
The ceiling is ripped away and you stare up at a sky filled with vast, inhuman entities.
"Run far enough and you might lose them. Good luck," the Broker yells, squeezing the trigger.
-------
The noise ceases immediately. With your eyes squeezed tight shut, it is a long time before you realise you're not actually dead. Slowly you open one eye.
You're standing in the Broker's office. It is peaceful, serene, quiet except for the sound of a car passing outside. The ceiling is intact. The stacks of fried computers and torched paperwork are gone. The paintings on the walls aren't even crooked.
Time travel? you wonder. Then again, he had mentioned something about your powers being reality-based. Perhaps you've jumped to a reality where the Monitors couldn't find you.
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