|Location: City Ruins, Ruined, Near Wasteland |
-ZERO-
Near the outskirts of the city, away from the crumbling buildings, I stood there as I watched my trail of destruction as it carved a path for the fierce wind. When the dust blew toward me, I immediately sneezed uncontrollably. Though it was my first time experiencing this, I certainly wouldn't call it pleasant.
I instinctively shake my head vigorously as if it would send my sneezing feat away.
[Notice: automatic dust filter activated.]
SAI initiated and just like that the sneezing stopped, I sighed and climbed to a higher spot as my sneezing eased.
As the buildings I 'damaged' fell away, making room for the setting sun to shine through, I watched in quiet awe. The sun's shadow, simple yet profound, stirred something deep inside me. It took me back to waking alone in a desert—no memories, no one else—where my life truly began.
Now, I'm determined to savor every moment. Still, an urge to seek something unknown pulls at me. I ask myself, "I wonder what is out there?"
I sat down, leaning my back against a nearby rock, and began fiddling with an interface inside SAI. That's when I noticed something I hadn't bothered to check before—a feature labeled "SIGHTSEER." Curious, I tapped on it and started exploring.
Images of unfamiliar places appeared—buildings lush with greenery and glowing with radiance. It was captivating, but then a phrase caught my attention: "SIGHTSEER: ABU DHABI." Suddenly, pictures of the place I had just left filled the screen, accompanied by a clear comparison between the current state and Abu Dhabi's past.
As I read through the information, moving my head slowly from side to side, it became clear—Abu Dhabi was the place I had been all along.
Suddenly, vivid memories flashed before my eyes. I was on a rooftop, watching the busy street below—a woman in business attire rushing past, an elderly couple on a bench, and a man walking calmly through the crowd.
My gaze locked on him. His dark hair and eyes mirrored my own exactly. Amid the noise, I heard him humming—a sound that pulled me in. Without thinking, I started moving toward him, slow and hypnotized, until I lost my balance and fell.
The fall felt real—terrifying and endless. I tried to scream but couldn't. My body wouldn't respond. Just as the ground pressed against my face, I snapped awake, a jolt running down my spine.
"What was that?" I gasped, heart racing. "For a moment... I swear our eyes met."
Confused, I tried to make sense of it. Then a whisper filled my mind: If I visit new places, will this happen again? Was it my memory or something else? Who was that man? And most unsettling—who am I?
Questions swirled relentlessly, with that last one echoing loudest.
I stared ahead, trying to piece together the memory I'd just witnessed, but my mind offered no clarity—only more questions. The harder I searched for answers, the more I realized that SAI might be the only entity that truly knows anything about me.
Driven by a mix of desperation and curiosity, I called out, "SAI!"
[Replying to the host: YES?]
I hesitated only briefly before asking, "SAI, what am I?"
The moment the words left my lips, an unsettling feeling washed over me—deep down, I knew this was a question I wasn't supposed to ask. The vivid memory of that man's eyes locking with mine flared in my mind, sharp and disorienting.
A cold weight settled in my chest. I had no real clue who—or what—I was. That uncertainty gnawed at me, relentless and unforgiving, refusing to let me escape the growing unease.
Suddenly, a sharp sting struck the back of my head, and I lost control of my body. A deafening ringing filled my ears, drowning out all sound, while my vision blurred into darkness. For a terrifying moment, I was both blind and deaf—trapped in a void where it felt like something was being violently forced from inside me. Panic surged as each breath grew shallow, my own body seeming to suffocate me from within.
Fear gripped me tightly. I trembled uncontrollably, biting my nail until it bled, desperate for some anchor. I tried to scream, but no sound came. All I could do was lie still, helpless, as the invisible force took hold.
Then, abruptly, everything stopped. My senses slowly returned—sight sharpening, sound clearing—and with that, a wave of relief washed over me. The sheer return of my vision calmed the storm inside.
On the screen before me, a red panel blinked to life, an eerie welcome. Questions flooded my mind, but my voice faltered.
[ERROR….. Unaa-aa-ble t-t-to procce-ee-es.]
"SAI, what's happening?" I finally managed to ask, voice trembling.
Yet even as the question left my lips, a shadow of fear held me back from digging deeper. How could I risk another wave like that? The memory of the suffocating darkness lingered, a silent warning I couldn't ignore. Something in me knew—if I pushed too far, this nightmare might return.
I decided to move on, focusing on small details—the gentle breeze against my skin, the moments that followed. Surprisingly, it helped calm my racing mind.
My anxiety eased just as the two people I had seen earlier came toward me. I could hear their uneven footsteps, heavy breaths, and the quick beat of their hearts.
I turned to face them.
They both looked at me and said warmly, "Thank you very much," bowing their heads with genuine gratitude.
At that moment, I realized I hadn't truly noticed how real and human they were until now.
Their jade green hair shimmered softly, their long pointed ears twitching slightly, and their fiery amber eyes held a strange intensity. I didn't realize I was staring until the woman's voice broke the silence. "Sorry, is something wrong?" she asked, her tone edged with nervousness. Both of them looked uneasy—eyes darting away from mine, sweat beading unnaturally on their skin despite the cool air. Their breathing was uneven, quick and shallow, as if anxiety clawed at their chests. Pale hues spread across their faces, betraying how deeply unsettled they were.
I forced a gentle smile, trying to ease the tension. "Sorry, it's just my first time seeing people like you. Don't get worked up." But the man's gaze kept flickering toward the ground and then behind me, his eyes sharp and searching—maybe for his sword? I started to say, "I'm sorry about the sword," but the woman shook her head with a faint, calming gesture.
"No, you saved us—that's what matters," she said, her voice soft but grateful.
Hope flickered inside me, a fragile thread of relief, until suddenly the woman collapsed. Her leg went limp beneath her, and she crumpled to the ground. Her breathing hitched—shallow, ragged, gasping for air that seemed just out of reach. Fear surged like a tidal wave, crashing through the tense stillness.
The man cried out, "Sis!" His voice shattered the quiet as he rushed to her side. His hands trembled violently, his fiery eyes wide and desperate, reflecting the terror and helplessness gripping him. In that moment, the raw weight of uncertainty and dread hung heavily in the air, pressing down on all of us. The fragile hope I'd felt moments before now twisted into a silent, aching plea that she would somehow pull through.
I watched them closely, unable to shake the thought—if she had something special inside her, why was she struggling so badly? Without thinking, my mouth moved. "Why don't you use it on yourself?"
For a moment, confusion flickered across their faces—like my words didn't quite register. "I mean... you used it to heal him," I added, voice low but urgent.
Suddenly, the man beside her jerked upright and drew a rough, earthen knife, lunging toward me with wild eyes. Panic flared in his movements, raw and desperate. The woman, still trembling but steadier, shot up and grabbed his arm, her voice sharp but strained. "Nuk, stop!"
He growled, "Sis, he knows. He might be one of them."
She shook her head fiercely, her eyes flickering with exhaustion and determination. "He saved us. Not like those humans. There's something different about him."
Turning to me, her amber eyes glimmered faintly, almost pleading. "You said this is your first time meeting people like us. Where do you come from?"
I swallowed, glancing back at her sister struggling on the ground—each breath a shallow, desperate gasp, her chest rising and falling unevenly. "I'm human," I said softly. "It's my first time seeing your kind. I've been alone since I left the desert. You're the first I've met."
She nodded slowly, pain and uncertainty clouding her features. "I see... that explains a lot," she whispered, voice heavy with worry. The fragile hope in her eyes fought to hold back the fear gnawing at her heart as she watched her sister's struggle, desperate for a way to save her.
"Wait, you believe him? What he said only makes me more suspicious. Who just wanders out of the desert empty-handed? He could be anything—dangerous," the man shouted, his voice booming with a mix of anger and distrust. His eyes were sharp, scanning me like I was a threat lurking in plain sight.
The woman didn't hesitate to cut him off, her tone firm but strained. "Nuk, trust me. You saw what he did—he could have ended us both the moment he wanted. There's something different about him."
She gave me a slow, serious nod, but just then her body betrayed her. She doubled over, violently coughing, and blood spatters flew onto the dusty ground. My heart jumped as I rushed forward, watching the man's face shift instantly. His suspicion vanished, replaced by raw fear and panic.
"Sis! What do I do?!" His voice cracked, trembling as tears welled and spilled down his cheeks, mixing with the dirt on his face. His hands shook uncontrollably as he reached for her, helpless in the face of her sudden collapse.
He turned toward me, desperation plain in his eyes. "I—I'm sorry about before, but please... save my sister." The earlier suspicion and hostility melted away, replaced by urgent plea. Even with everything that had happened, it didn't matter to me. This was a moment that demanded help.
She looked so fragile, her chest rising and falling unevenly, eyes fluttering weakly. There was a story behind this suffering—answers hidden in her pain.
I took a deep breath and spoke firmly, "Sai, scan her. We need to know what's going on." The weight of the situation pressed on all of us, tense and heavy, as time slipped away.
[Responding]
[Scanning]
[1% 40% 69% 90% 100%]
[Result: specimen SK381 released a neurotoxin gas and entered the lungs which caused it to deteriorate rapidly]
[remedy, ERROR, ERROR]
That moment caught me completely off guard. I never expected SAI to come up empty when I needed answers the most. A sudden wave of shame washed over me—I felt naive for trusting that 'thing.' All I could do was stand there, helpless, watching the woman slip away, her fragile body wrapped tightly in her brother's desperate embrace.
I swallowed hard, biting my lip to hold back the rising tide of guilt. Deep down, I knew it was my arrogance that had brought us here.
"Please, please save her," the brother begged, collapsing to his knees, tears streaming uncontrollably down his face. His cries echoed across the quiet space where we stood. I could only shake my head, powerless. His gaze dropped, empty and hollow as the reality settled in.
"Sis?" The woman's voice was weak, barely a whisper as she called for her brother. Her eyes glazed over, turning milky white, and strands of her jade hair fell loose around her face.
"Nuk? Where are you?" Her voice softened, calming the frantic cries of her brother.
"I'm here," he whispered back, tightening his hold. He held her closer as if his strength could keep her alive.
"Come closer, I have something to tell you," she murmured, her voice faint but urgent.
Her body was failing fast—she was no longer aware, no longer able to see or hear. Yet, despite everything, I could see the fierce fight still flickering inside her, a will to hold on just a little longer.
The longer I watched them, the more my guilt twisted into envy. The bond between them was raw and powerful, something I lacked. But before I could dwell on it, the moment passed, leaving me speechless.
With a heavy chest, I stepped back, giving them space for what would likely be their last conversation. I walked away silently, the weight of helplessness pressing down on me.
I went back to check on their other companion and was surprised to find her already awake. She tried to stand but wobbled dangerously, losing her balance. Instinctively, I reached out and caught her by the waist, steadying her. "Hello, I'm Zero," I said gently, trying to ease her tension.
"You can just lie down, you know," I added softly as I helped her back to the ground. Up close, she was noticeably smaller and more fragile than her friends. Her eyes flared with fierce intensity, and her fists clenched so tightly that her knuckles whitened—pain, anger, and frustration radiated from her every movement. "What did you do to them?" she demanded sharply, voice trembling with a mixture of fear and accusation.
She hadn't heard what had happened to her siblings yet. I tried to calm her, keeping my voice steady. "They're over there, talking things through."
I paused, biting my lip, haunted by the nagging thought that if I hadn't hesitated earlier—if I'd acted without second-guessing—things might have turned out differently. A heavy, suffocating urge to give up, to withdraw into myself, bubbled up. But I pushed it aside. I still owed her an explanation.
"So, how did you end up confronting that creature—specimen SK381?" I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral but curious.
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, confusion crossing her face. "SK what?" Her expression said plainly that she had no idea what I was talking about. I decided to simplify it. "The creature that attacked you."
She scoffed, a bitter edge to her voice, almost mocking me. "I don't care about your SK numbers. It was definitely an apostle who attacked us."
Her bluntness caught me off guard, and a chill ran down my spine. "What do you mean by 'apostle'?"
Her voice dropped, thick with disgust. "More like their grim reaper."
Her words only deepened my confusion. She caught my blank stare and tilted her head, eyes sharp and probing. "How do you not know? Where did you come from?"
"The desert. The middle of nowhere," I replied quietly.
She let out a dry, mocking laugh that wasn't cruel but carried a sharp edge. "Sounds like no one told you how messed up the world really is."
Despite the sarcasm, there was no hostility in her tone. Instead, it sparked something in me—a deep curiosity. The tension between us slowly eased as we began to talk, our conversation unfolding like a tapestry of stories, pain, and history that stretched back a thousand years. Her guarded anger softened, replaced by a rare openness, and I found myself drawn into a world I barely understood.
••••••••