I woke up like broken code trying to recompile itself. The emergency lights above flickered weakly. Everything felt off-kilter, as if I were trying to reconnect in a foreign system. I 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 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. Let’s say I’m 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 peeked under the hood at your vital stats and good news: someone bypassed all your biological limiters.”
I stared at the ceiling like it owed me answers. “Meaning?”
“Well, you have elite-grade regeneration, which explains why you aren't currently a puddle of goo. That toxic fog outside? Might as well be a gentle breeze to your system. Basically, your body is cheating. Also, your DNA doesn't match a single file in my patched database. Maybe you're a totally undocumented custom build. Try not to immediately get yourself killed. You’re worth more than that.”
“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 manage your modules, leap system fences, tame droids... once I get fully functional. Neurolink repairs should be a priority.”
I smirked. “Great. So, while I was sleeping, 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 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 stink 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, 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 thick with a sickly green haze.
“Who... are you?” My mental voice barely echoed in the haze.
“Call me Arvie. Your better half,” she replied, her voice softening. “Focus on waking up, master, we’ve got a lot to sort through.”
Arvie. The name felt like a forgotten melody. It soothed me, even as the rest of the world was an enigma. The walls around me seemed to pulse with the rhythm of my own disjointed heartbeat, everything a puzzle with too many missing pieces.
And just like that, the past 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. Pretty neat, huh?”
“Doesn't help much,” I said. “The diary is empty from before I woke up. If it was recording my past, someone made sure to purge those entries.”
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. Not one bit. But there wasn’t much I could do about it, so I pushed the thought aside. I got off the cot and found a body that suddenly seemed interested in cooperating. Every motion came smooth and easy, like freshly serviced machinery. It felt as though everything had been recalibrated overnight.
With a final stretch, I moved through the dim corridor until I found the others in the mess chamber, assembling something that might qualify as food if you squinted.
“Ah, look at you,” Jaraek grunted, sounding impressed.
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. The contrast was stark.
“Guess we won’t be passing as family,” I smirked, 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. After the meal, the conversation drifted, filling in the gaps of a broken world.
Jaraek ran a thumb along the scored casing of my plasma rifle, his touch surprisingly gentle for a man with such calloused hands, his voice taking on the low, steady cadence of a storyteller.
“We are Ezollaid,” he said. “Most of our kin sleep beneath the ancient domes, sheltering from the plague out there. But the Kaelen... they weave their lives into the high branches of the Mberthorne trees. They build far above the Nether, where the poison cannot reach.”
Reya didn't look up from her work. She was methodically scraping the toxic grime from a salvaged power cell, her movements precise. “And the Faen,” she added, her tone strung with a quiet weariness. “They carve their strongholds from the highland rock. Broad-shouldered folk with darker skin. They wander the wastes, but they belong to the stone.” She paused, the edge of her knife catching in the dim light. “As for the ghouls...”
“The ghouls,” I nodded. “Not exactly the neighborly type.”
Reya set the power cell down and finally looked at me, her eyes reflecting the dim bunker light. “But you,” she said softly. “You are something we’ve never seen before. Perhaps you come from a place beyond our knowing.”
Arvie’s voice cut in, teasing. “Maybe you’re just a gorgeous glitch, or even a custom prototype that fell off the assembly line.”507Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnb5zbDSWyo
I chuckled, feeling a fraction of the weight lift off my shoulders. “Maybe I’m a new build altogether. Who knows? We’ll figure it out.”
Jaraek set the rifle aside 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.”
Refinery? I raised an eyebrow. Sounded like somewhere you'd send scrap for meltdown, not somewhere to rinse your hair. “Refinery, huh? Sounds like just what I need.”
He 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, he 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, old 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 a booth. 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 unknown 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. Dark gray with silver trim. The fabric was light but firm, 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 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 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 salute and headed for the exit. The plan was simple: survive, come back, and try not to disappoint anyone too badly.
Pausing by the door, I caught my reflection in a cracked wall panel and gave the stranger in the glass a nod of approval. With that wicked rifle in hand, he looked like he knew what he was doing. The dead zone out there would be the judge of that.
ns216.73.217.23da2
and then Add to home screen.