As she gradually regained consciousness, after the sensation of a long slumber, she could hear a ringing in her ears, she could feel her slow breath, and the rising sensation of her chest as she breathed. She opened her eyes slowly to see the sight of vast blue sky. The scents of the blossoms filled the air, unfamiliar yet strangely comforting. The warmth of the sun flashed against her face, fully waking her into wakefulness. She blinked against the sunlight while her body sank into the grass, and her mind was blank for a while. Then she raised her body.She simply sat there. She didn't know where she was. She didn't know who she was. Her thoughts were empty like a void. Then, slowly, fragmented memories of her final moment began to surface.
Blood. Fire. Gunshots. Her entire life flashed in her mind in an instant.
"Nemi" was the only thing in her fragmented memories at the moment.Her body tensed. Her hands instinctively clutched at herself, searching for wounds that no longer existed. Her breathing came fast and shallow as the last memory hit her like a shockwave. she had died. She was certain of it. The cold, the agony, the helplessness of her final moments. And yet... she was here. Alive. It was impossible. There was no way she could be alive. She could feel her heart start racing as she remembered her death.
She immediately took a deep breath and slowly controlled her breathing to calm herself down. As her heart settled, she looked at her surroundings. There were no towering buildings, no ruins, no remnants of the world she once knew. Only the endless field stretching far and wide, and beyond it, a dense forest, its towering trees whispering with the wind. Somewhere in the distance, she heard the faint murmur of running water and the chirping of the birds.
This was not the world she knew.
Her fingers curled into the soil beneath her, grounding herself in reality. It felt real. It was real. And her body—this body—felt different. The warmth of the sun was soothing. The cool breeze was calming compared to the hellish blizzards she had endured before.
"Where am I? What happened?"
Confusion clouded her thoughts as she searched for answers. The unease in her chest deepened. As she strained to remember, a fragmented image surfaced, a figure holding her hand, blurred and distant."Mama..." she murmured.She couldn't recall her face, her voice, or even the warmth of her affection. And yet, the presence of that figure was somehow the only thing that appeared in her head for that moment.Shaking the thoughts away, she looked around once more before standing up.
"What is your name?" she asked herself."Nemi," came the automatic response."What is your purpose?""Follow orders.""What is your current mission?"Silence...
She stood still, the question lingering in her mind: "What is my mission? I don't have one."For the first time, she found herself without direction. Without orders. Without purpose.A strange sensation crept into her chest, something unfamiliar. something unsettling.Pushing it aside, she refocused, scanning her surroundings for any clues. Nothing. Just endless wilderness.
Her eyes then landed on a sturdy wooden stick lying a few feet away. She approached and picked it up. It was crude, nothing like the weapons she once wielded. But even so, her grip was firm and steady. Her body still remembered. The years of brutal fights and training, the instinct to survive, it was still there, flowing in her bloodstream.She was once built for doomsday. And even in this unfamiliar world, it hadn't changed.
She then stared at her hand and clenched it repeatedly. "This feels... weak."
She put the stick on the ground to test her grip, checking if her arm was functioning properly. As her fingers pressed into her skin, soft. Too soft.
"Eh?" Her eyes narrowed."Was I modified again? When?"
She tried to unravel the mystery, but her mind stuttered and then it hit her.
White. Blinding white. She was paralyzed. Half her body screamed in pain. She opened her mouth, but no sound came. People in lab coats. Goggles—steampunk-like, cold. Tools.
They drilled into her. Screws. Again, Again, and Again.
Nemi remained frozen, staring at her palm.
She picked up the stick again, automatically. Her voice slipped out, like muscle memory. "Rael," she said out of habit. "Can you take a look at my arm? It feels off."
She turned—only a tree. An open field.
"…Rael?"
A memory flickered.
Someone grinning through blood, arm outstretched for a fist bump. "You better run like hell, girl." But the face, it was scribbled out. Like someone took a pencil and scrawled over it in rage.
A sharp pain stabbed through her skull. "Ugh!" She clutched her head, eyes squeezed shut. "Who was that…?"
She dug deeper, forcing herself to remember. Only fragments came.
A blizzard. Three figures ahead of her, dressed in black. A massive hole in the ice. A spiral staircase of rusty metal led downward.
Then—Skip. Blood. Her abdomen. She collapsed, unable to move.
A cloak covered her. Someone knelt beside her, wearing a full mask with a red visor—A single straight line of light.
He was breathing. He was bleeding.
If he moved, they'd both die. A horde of monsters was actively hunting them.
His visor pulsed faintly… then dimmed. Darkness crept in. Her eyes closed.
She tried her best to picture the face behind the mask, but she could only remember certain scenarios, and every face was scribbled out. And every time she tried to picture the scribbled face, a sharp pain hit her head.
"Who…? Who are you?""Oris?", "Rael?", "Leona?"
Her knees buckled. The names echoed in her head, useless and hollow.
...
"…Mama?"
...
"Where are you?"