Chapter 3: The world that shouldn't be
I slowly brought my hand down, staring at it as if it could give me answers. The skin was pale under the smears of red, but the streaks across my knuckles were unmistakable.
Blood.
Not dirt, not paint. Not anything I could pretend it was, The sticky texture, the sharp metallic tang that clung to my nose and mouth it left no doubt.
My ears still rang, like someone had pressed a high pitched scream right against my skull and never stopped. The sound bent and twisted, fading for half a second before roaring back even louder, making my head throb.
The world around me flickered in and out, like a broken television screen that can't decide if it's alive or dead, Shapes sharpened, then blurred, Colors shifted between too bright and too dull. It was dizzying like I was stuck halfway between two different realities, unable to plant my feet in either.
I turned my head to the left, just to ground myself.
And froze.
Across the room, a piece of cracked glass leaned against the wall. My reflection stared back at me but it wasn't me.
It wasn't the proud, unshakable figure of the 7th Squad captain.
It wasn't the black haired little girl I used to be before everything turned to ash.
It wasn't the warrior who had bled and fought and survived.
It wasn't even the weakling who had cowered in the shadows, praying for mercy.
It was something else entirely.
Something wrong.
This wasn't regression.
This wasn't reincarnation.
It was a rewrite.
The edges of the glass caught the faint light from outside, and my eyes flicked past my reflection to the city beyond. Even through the haze clouding my vision, I could still read the billboards in the distance glowing with bright ads for fashion brands I had thought were long gone, holo movie premieres splashing neon across the night.
The skyline was clean. Intact. No rubble, no smoke. Just towering glass buildings and blinking signs.
It looked normal too normal.
Like the world before everything went to hell.
No monsters stalking the streets.
No smoke curling from craters in the ground.
No gunfire.
No screaming in the distance.
Just… peace.
My mind couldn't process it. My muscles tensed, like my body was ready for an attack that wasn't coming. It felt wrong to breathe in air that wasn't heavy with dust and ash. It felt wrong to stand in a city that wasn't carved into fortresses and trenches.
And then
SLAP.
The sound cracked through the air like a whip.
I snapped my head back to the present. Standing before me was a girl with platinum blonde hair, her hazel eyes wide but unflinching. There was something raw in them pain, fresh and open like a wound that hadn't been bandaged. Her cheek was flushed red. My hand was still raised, fingers curled slightly, frozen midair.
Had I just hit her?
No. Wait. My cheek stung faintly.
Had she hit me?
The thought tangled in my head, messy and unclear. I stared blankly at her trembling figure. Her hands shook. Her lips pressed into a thin, uneven line. She looked at me like I was someone else entirely. Someone she both feared and hated.
Why was she shaking like that?
Why did she look like I had just betrayed her?
Her right hand was still raised, trembling in the space between us as if she wasn't done yet like she was ready to strike again, to land a second blow.
Slowly, unsteadily, I pushed myself upright. My legs wobbled, muscles heavy and sore, each movement sending a pulse of pain up my spine. My head throbbed, my ears still hissing with that awful static.
I braced for the second hit.
It never came.
Instead, I moved before I even realized it. My fingers closed around her wrist mid-swing, catching her with a grip that was neither gentle nor cruel. I didn't think. My body just reacted.
But before I could say anything, before I could push her away or ask her what she thought she was doing.another hand closed around mine.
Firm. Cold. Strong.
The pressure was enough to stop me instantly. I turned, startled, and met the eyes of someone else entirely.
A boy no, a young man stood beside me. Black hair fell in slightly messy strands over his forehead, framing a face carved with sharp angles and colder expressions. But it was his eyes that caught me piercing blue, the kind that didn't just look at you, but through you.
He looked at me like I wasn't worth his time. Like I was a problem he had been forced to deal with against his will.
For some reason… that stung.
A strange ache flared in my chest, unfamiliar but sharp. It wasn't anger, It wasn't fear. It was something heavier, something that made my ribs feel too tight.
Then I saw it my reflection in his eyes.
No. Not me.
Someone else.
In the reflection, I wasn't the person I remembered being. I wasn't even the pale, broken figure from the cracked glass. I was someone else entirely… and yet, the same.
I looked almost identical to the blonde girl standing in front of me. Same shape of the face. Same body. The only difference was the mark a red lotus, burning like a fresh brand against the side of my neck.
And my eyes.
They weren't just one color, they shimmered, flickering between warm hazel and a deep, stormy blue.
I blinked, stunned, my breath catching.
This body… it had already awakened. I could feel it in the faint hum beneath my skin, in the strange pressure that pulsed in my veins.
But the timing was wrong.
Before the apocalypse. Before the fall. Before the blood and the monsters.
This wasn't reincarnation.
This wasn't regression.
This was something else.
Something far more dangerous.
Something I didn't understand yet… but I would.
To be continued…