The metallic creature clanked lightly as it climbed onto Hana's shoulder, its tiny metal claws tapping against her skin with surprising delicacy. It perched there proudly, tail‑like wires swaying.
"I'll call you…" Hana murmured, tapping her chin.
She paused, letting her mind drift. Past the chaos, past the pain, past the radioactive storms inside her, to a memory she rarely allowed herself to go back to.
A soft purr.
Warm fur.
A pair of bright, trusting eyes.
"Miyu," she whispered.
The creature chirped, an excited high‑pitched sound, and bounced happily on her shoulder, its little body vibrating with joy.
"…You vaguely remind me of a best friend of mine," Hana said softly.
Her chest tightened. She didn't say the rest aloud. She didn't need to. The memory of her black cat, her companion, her comfort, and her accidental victim, hung in the air like a ghost.
She turned toward Haazi.
He was still unconscious, slumped awkwardly on the floor.
Hana frowned.
With a gentle wave of her hand, she manipulated the atoms beneath him, rearranging them into a cushioned chair that rose from the ground like a blooming flower. She lifted him carefully with a swirl of radioactivity and set him onto it.
She looked at her hands.
Hands that could destroy.
That could reshape matter.
That could rip apart steel or cradle a friend.
She laughed, short and disbelieving.
"Ha!"
The sound echoed through the room.
The recent events were finally settling into place in her mind. The power she had unleashed. The control she had gained. The way she had walked on atoms like stepping stones.
She was practically invincible.
"I wonder…" she said aloud.
Miyu tilted its head, chirping inquisitively.
"Am I able to reform the structure of cells?" Hana mused. "If I can change the structure of atoms, maybe I can reconstruct them too."
She lifted her wrist.
There was a small bruise marking her skin, likely from when she had struggled against the restraints earlier. It stung faintly, a reminder of her vulnerability.
She focused.
Redirected the flow of radioactivity inward.
Tapped into the cells beneath her skin.
Closed her eyes.
Breathed.
A tiny sting.
A warmth.
A shift.
She opened her eyes.
The graze was gone.
Her wrist was flawless. Smooth, perfectly fine, as if she had never been hurt at all.
Hana exhaled slowly, awe flickering across her face.
"Well then, Miyu," she said, voice soft but steady. "I hate to say it, but I think I have memory loss."
Miyu chirped sympathetically, nudging her cheek with its metallic head.
"I had some sort of traumatic flashback," Hana continued. "And it looked… really similar to this place."
She glanced around the room. The melted tube, the flickering lights, the cold metal walls. A shiver ran down her spine.
"I think…" she whispered, "if I want answers, I have to contact the Director himself." Her eyes glowed faintly. Her power hummed beneath her skin.
She wasn't going to run from the truth.
She was going to confront it.