I woke up like broken code trying to recompile itself.
The dreamscape peeled away in layers. The emergency lights above flickered weakly. Everything felt off-kilter, as if I were trying to reconnect in a foreign system, my mind struggling to sync with the reality around me.
It started with the blankets, a sensory anchor in the disorienting drift. Then the cot, felt soft, like someone meant for me to survive this. That’s when the hairs on my neck prickled. I’d been patched.
No aches. No damage. Just this eerie precision, like I’d been factory-reset in a back-alley clinic run by someone who knew their craft too well. Limbs moved like silk over chrome. Breathing came too easy.
“Morning, sunshine,” Arvie’s voice was playful, almost irreverent. “While you were snoozing, I’ve been doing a little spring cleaning. Cleared some corrupted data banks, categorized some old data... Think of me as the world’s sassiest defrag utility.”
“Spring cleaning?” I echoed, fingers massaging my temples as I tried to push through the residual haze.
“Yep, data is good as new! Well... mostly. Might still have a few quirks. Think of me as running on a beta build, usable but unpredictable. And, oh, I found something interesting.”
Her tone had a new edge, something almost... proud. That caught my attention. “What’s that?”
“I dug into your vital stats, your enhancement data, and guess what? You’re special. Like, one-of-a-kind special.”
I stared at the ceiling like it owed me answers. “Special how?”
“Enhanced physiology. Elite-grade regeneration. Adapting to hostile environments like that toxic fog outside. Won’t bother you much. Heightened senses, night vision, advanced hearing, the works. Oh, and your race, well, it doesn’t match anything in my patched database, but you’re... special.”
“And you?” I asked, already knowing her answer.
“I’m your upgrade,” she replied, smugness rolling off every syllable. “As far as I can tell, no one else has anything like me. I’m your very own unique, smart-ass AI companion. I can manage your modules, hack interfaces, command nearby droids, override systems... once I get fully functional. Neurolink repairs should be a priority.”
I smirked, still massaging my temples. “Great. So, while I was dreaming, you were busy making me sound like some rare collectible.”
“Pretty much. Wait, there’s more. You’ve got a diary.”
“A what?”
“Automated diary. It’s been recording everything since you woke up, logging every sensory input, every stray thought. It’s pretty sophisticated, but, like us, it’s blank before you woke up.I think I made it before we lost our memories. Feels like something I’d do.”
I blinked at the ceiling, the idea of a journal playing back my life both fascinating and unsettling. “Can I access it?”
“Say the word,” Arvie chirped. “It’s a full sensory replay. You won’t just see your memories, you’ll live them. Might help jog something loose.”
Curiosity won. “Do it.”
The world around me shimmered, colors blended together, and suddenly I was back in the moment I first woke up. The cold bite of metal, the hum of unseen machinery, and the acrid air filled my senses again, sharper this time. My body felt heavy, limbs twitching as they fought against the lingering numbness.
A voice cut through the darkness, not external, but a pulse within my own mind, urgent, impatient. “Come on, wake up already. I can’t keep this going forever.”
Her tone cut through the disorientation. I forced my eyes open, peeling back the layers of confusion one blink at a time, colors bleeding into each other as my vision settled on the chaotic, fractured chamber around me. Twisted metal, flickering panels, and circuitry spilling out like entrails. The air was thick with a sickly green haze.
“Who... are you?” My mental voice barely echoed in the haze.
“I’m your companion. Call me Arvie,” she replied, her voice softening. “Focus on waking up, master; we’ve got a lot to sort through.”
Arvie. The name was familiar yet distant, like a forgotten melody. Her presence was comforting, even as the rest of the world remained an unsolved enigma. The walls around me seemed to pulse with the rhythm of my own disjointed heartbeat, everything a jigsaw puzzle with too many missing pieces.
And just like that, the memory snapped back into the present. I blinked, disoriented from the sudden shift. “That was... intense. It felt so real. Like I was living it all over again.”
“That’s the beauty of it,” Arvie said, her tone back to light and irreverent. “Full sensory playback. You get to live it all over again. Pretty neat, huh?”
“But here’s the thing,” I said , frustrated. “The diary has nothing from before I woke up. If it was recording, those entries were deleted.”
Arvie hesitated for a moment. “That’s... disturbing. If someone erased our past, it means there’s something there they didn’t want us to remember.”
I didn’t like that. I liked mystery even less when I was the one lost in it.
Time to join my hosts.
I pushed myself up from the cot. My body responded effortlessly, every motion smooth, like freshly oiled machinery. The feeling that everything had been recalibrated overnight.
With a final stretch, I moved through the dim corridor until I found them in the mess chamber, assembling something that might qualify as food if you squinted.
“Ah, look at you,” Jaraek grunted, sounding impressed. “Like you’ve been rebuilt overnight.”
Reya nodded, her eyes lingering on me. “You seem... different. Mended, somehow, but there’s more to it. Still, you might want to find yourself a bath. And some garments that are not falling apart wouldn’t go amiss.”
“Thanks for the critique,” I replied with a smirk. “But I wouldn’t mind seeing what you’re seeing. Got a mirror?”
They exchanged a glance, then Reya led me to a small closet where a full-length mirror hung. I stepped in front of it and blinked, taken aback by the reflection staring back at me.
Tall, lean, my frame was built for speed, not brute force. Silver-blue hair caught the dim light, glowing faintly, like something otherworldly. Darker eyebrows, slanting upward, sharpened the edges of my gaze, bright green, alive with intelligence. My face, it held a strange aura that gave me pause.
Behind me, Jaraek and Reya were shorter, their reflections solid, grounded. Bushy dark hair streaked with red highlights, eyes shadowed, skin rougher. They were cut from a different cloth, the contrast was stark.
“Guess we won’t be passing as family,” I quipped with a smirk, turning to face them.
Jaraek shrugged, with a ghost of a smile. “You’re certainly not like the rest of us.”
I nodded, following them back to the table.
As we ate, the conversation drifted to origins, filling in gaps, establishing baselines. Jaraek leaned back, more relaxed now that the immediate crisis had passed.
“We are Ezollaid,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “Most of us dwell beneath the domes, ancient relics of the past. The Kaelen live higher, in the Mberthorne trees, high above the Nether, away from the poison and the twisted wilds below.”26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡX3K8W6RBPF
Reya took over, her voice carrying a mix of drive and weariness. “Then there are the Faen, they keep to the highland strongholds, and wandering bands. They’re bulkier, with darker skin. As for the ghouls...”
“The ghouls,” I nodded. “Not exactly friendly neighbors.”
Reya nodded. “But you... you’re something else, something we’ve never seen before. Perhaps you come from a place beyond our knowing.”
Arvie’s voice cut in, teasing. “Or maybe you’re just a really fancy Kaelen with a makeover gone wrong.”
I chuckled, feeling more light hearted for the first time since waking up. “Maybe I’m a new species altogether. Who knows? But we’ll figure it out.”
After the meal, Jaraek stretched and gave me a look. “You’ll be needing a proper wash, I’d say. There’s an old cleansing unit down the hall, still working, last I checked. We call it the Refinery. It’ll get you cleaned up.”
The Refinery? I raised an eyebrow. Sounded like somewhere you'd send scrap for meltdown, not somewhere to rinse your hair. “The Refinery, huh? Sounds like just what I need.”
Jaraek grunted something like a laugh and motioned for me to follow. Everything had that vaguely metallic smell of overheating machinery. When we reached a reinforced door, Jaraek keyed in a mental code, and it slid open with a low hiss, revealing a spacious chamber lined with a row of cleansing booths.
The place had a utilitarian vibe, barebones tech that had seen better days, but still functional. The kind of setup where you half-expected to be scrubbed down by a droid with a grudge.
“Privacy in the booths,” Jaraek said, pointing them out. “Full-body sprays, temperature controls... It’s not luxury, but it serves its purpose.”
“Luxury’s overrated anyway,” I muttered, thinking of my journey here. The bar was low.
I thanked him and stepped into one of the booths. The door sealed shut behind me with a soft hiss. The system engaged, a gentle spray of water kicked in, perfectly calibrated to my body temp. I closed my eyes, letting it wash over me, cleansing away the grime and the ghosts of the past.
It wasn’t just about getting clean. It was about rebooting. Starting fresh. Prepping for whatever was next, because something told me whatever lay ahead wasn’t going to be gentle.
When I emerged, there was a uniform folded on a bench. Charcoal gray with silver trim. The fabric was light but durable, with a cut that spoke more to functionality than fashion. Still, it wasn’t bad, considering it was probably scavenged from whatever remnants of civilization this place had left.
The insignia caught my eye: a stylized gear encircling a flame. There was history there, of what, I had no idea. I dressed quickly. The fit was a little off in places, but it would do. Better than running around in half-shredded rags.
When I got back to the main chamber, Reya and Jaraek were hunched over the table, sorting through supplies. Reya glanced up, giving me a quick once-over. “Looks right on you. We found it tucked away in storage, management’s attire. It’s the closest match we could find for your size.”
I tugged at the collar, trying to make it feel more like mine and less like a hand-me-down. “It’ll do,” I said, nodding, appreciating their effort.
Jaraek’s eyes flicked over me, like he was mentally checking off a list. Finally, he nodded. “Good. You look ready.”
He reached behind him and tossed me a small pack, a few ration bars and water. “You’ll want these,” he said. “Try not to die.”
“No promises,” I caught the pack and stashed it in my satchel.
Time to move out. I slung the satchel over my shoulder, the weight of the plasma rifle settling against my back like an old friend you’d rather not need but are glad is there.
I gave Reya and Jaraek a farewell nod, hoping that I’d come back in one piece, though, given recent history, that last part was wishful thinking.
The path ahead was still murky, like walking through fog with only the vaguest sense of direction, but it felt clearer now, like I was finally starting to cut through the fog, revealing pieces of a much larger, intricate puzzle.
There was a new sense of purpose simmering beneath the surface, and this was just the start, the first step on a long, winding path to clarity.
ns3.133.158.178da2
