Chapter 1:
Hanabi of the Steel Curtain
“Startup Sequence Initiated…”
The stillness of oblivion faded and gave way to rhythmic sounds of rain overhead landing upon something solid.
“Legion Link… established
“User Configurations… set”
“Operating Systems… online”
She was moving, she was sure of that. Rising from an unknown place. She couldn’t open her eyes yet, something wasn’t finished.
“Motor systems… functioning”
“Combat protocols… standby”
“StarTech Compatibility Functions… standby”
“Final Check… completed”
“Unknown errors detected”
“Beginning operation.”
She stirred from the faint sounds of motors and gears, a shock through her body surged for a brief moment. Her eyes slowly opened to the blinding light of the world.
Only, instead of a more appropriate venue, she found herself in a small, bright room devoid of distinguishable features. Just a blank, gray, windowless room. There was a slight depression in the floor along the edges. It’s a platform, of course. A hidden elevator, that was most likely where she came from.
Having enough of this space, she walked to the door and turned the handle.
Click
Suddenly, a green light from the top frame of the door scanned her body. A brief ping sounded off, and she heard another click. The door’s internal lock released.
“Sensory Recognition Functions… activated.”
And she was immediately hit by the musty odor that wafted past her. She pinched her nose shut as she stepped out into the large, open room.
A bar counter stood alone on one side of the room, empty pitchers and shards of glass splayed out on the countertop. On the other side of the room, rows of tables and several booths, they were devoid of occupants yet the state they were in suggested several possible stories. But all of them likely concluded with the same ending, evident by the shattered windows lining the walls; the occupants had left in a hurry.
She passed by the rows of framed posters on the wall, quickly scanning their messages as she passed. While each poster depicted something different in terms of imagery, and ranged from uplifting to fearmongering, the general message was shared among them: “Support the war.”
‘What war?’ She thought, she didn’t remember any particular war being fought.
. . . . . .
Actually she didn’t remember much at all.
Not where she came from, what she was doing, how she wound up here, not even a name. It wasn’t like the memories didn’t exist, the closest equivalent she could come up with was like waking up from a long, drawn-out, dream; where you feel like you can see a picture, but it’s out of focus. You know it’s there, you have some idea of what it might be, but the image just gets blurrier as time passes.
Something else felt odd as well; namely the fact that these gaps in her memories seemed to not bother her too much. It was like she knew that she was supposed to feel something; dread, confusion, sadness. Yet, she seemed to react to these knowledge gaps in a manner akin to dealing with a minor inconvenience.
She locked eyes with her reflection in the mirror across the bar counter. An odd fixture, for sure. However, while her memories seemed vague to her, she thought that maybe seeing her features up close would spark a memory or two.
She leaned forward to get a better look at herself in the cleanest part of the mirror. She stared into her red, piercing eyes giving her a rather unfriendly resting face, her raven-colored long hair tied up in a low-hanging ponytail with a contrasting white bow, her porcelain skin devoid of blemishes yet feeling oddly alien, her stony expression failing to display a discernible emotion.
All of it lead to one conclusion:
“I have no idea who this is.”
Unfortunately, seeing herself didn’t shed a single light on who she was. To make matters worse, she couldn’t even confidently assume she was human. Sure, in the mirror, she could clearly see a young human girl staring back. But, call it her intuition, she felt that label didn’t quite fit.
“HK-91-3800.” She blinked as the code left her lips. She had just been trying to remember if she had a name, but for reasons beyond her comprehension, that was what her memory concluded.
‘What does it mean?’ And once again, her intuition told her that this was the closest equivalent to a name she could come up with. She frowned and her reflection mimicked her. For some reason, she wasn’t fond of the idea of a serial-number being her name.
The sound of a brief musical note caught her attention, she swiftly turned around, but all she found was just the same empty space.
She couldn’t help but notice her hand reaching for something that should’ve been at her waist, but all she grabbed was empty air. ‘Why did I react like that? Was I expecting a fight?’ She couldn’t remember ever being in a fight or why someone would even want to kill her, but here she was. Looking like she was ready for bullets to start flying any moment.
Fortunately, it wasn’t bullets whizzing past her skull, but a sequence of letters in her field of vision, preceded by the short melody again. She read the words aloud; “Objective: Rendezvous with SO-75-1400.”
She repeated the last sequence again. “Who is… SO-75-1400?”
A circle appeared in the middle of the floor, it pulsed and faded like a heartbeat, then a line marked a path out of the establishment and into the outside world. She followed without hesitation and rather than gaze upon a thriving city, she saw bombed out ruins blurred by a veil of rain.
She stepped outside, the roof of the establishment shielding her from the rain as she scanned the surroundings; collapsed buildings, long-rusted war machines in heaps of scrap, an oppressive gray sky as far as the eye could see.
“Conditions Met… Track-01 Playing.”
In her ears, a slow, melancholic song played. It was soft, and soothing, a sad song to accompany the atmosphere around her. It caught her off-guard for a moment.
Before her, between the ruins and the old diner, lay a long stretch of road. To one side, was a massive structure far off on the horizon, its gargantuan wall stretched on for miles, possibly encircling the whole region.
Far off to the other side were an array of buildings, sparkling lights of various colors and intensities hung overhead, with massive towers further ahead, stretching up to touch the sky with metal fingers, dwarfing the surrounding buildings.
And throughout all this, a stillness hung in the air.
Emotions should’ve been forming in her in relation to scene before her, but something didn’t feel right. It was sort of like understanding the concept of an emotion but being unable to comprehend the mechanics of it.
Compulsion driving her actions, she cautiously held her hand out, letting the droplets of rain stream over her arm.
‘Cold.’
She took another step forward, then another, and another, she kept walking until she stood in the open rain. Looking up at the gray clouds, the rain falling down along her cheeks and causing her clothes to cling to her body.
In a weird way, she felt… cleansed? Like something that had been an albatross around her neck had been washed away. If only she could remember what that might’ve been.
The song stopped, but the rain continued. She scratched the back of her ear, turned, and caught sight of a hooded pair in tattered cloaks walking down the lonely road. They stumbled but pressed on towards the city in the distance.
One figure stopped while the other kept going, turning instead to stare at her. She reflexively tensed up as she gazed into those hollow, unfathomable eyes. Something felt off. This person stared at her — no, not at her, more like through her.
In a way, it felt like watching a ghost passing through; yet, there was something strangely familiar about this figure, something scratching at the back of her mind.
However, this mystery would have to wait. An indicator in her field of vision blinked, something was approaching to her right.
Please log in to leave a comment.