When she finally opened her eyes, it felt like waking from a dream. A soft, almost heavenly warmth covered her entire body. It was so alien compared to the biting cold she remembered from Russia's cold temperatures.
She was in shock when she realized the bed she was lying in was massive, covered in sheets that seemed far too expensive for her to even touch. The fabric was smooth and cool, yet warm where her skin pressed against it. A soft pillow cradled her head. Outside the enormous glass walls, snow fell. For a few moments, she just lay there, breathing slowly. Then, like an avalanche, fragments of memory hit her.
She shot up from the bed, her heart racing.
"Where… where am I?"
The chamber was enormous, lined with furniture that blended medieval design with futuristic sleekness.
"Ah. You're awake. Finally."
It didn't echo from the walls or any direction. It was everywhere.
"Who—who's there?!"
"No need to panic. I am the soul of this place. You're safe. You're in the Chronological Palace."
"Chronological… Palace? Is this some kind of dream?"
"No. Very real, I assure you."
"Then who are you?"
"My name is Observa."
"Observer?"
"Observa," the voice corrected gently. "With an 'a.' Heavens, people and their assumptions."
She hesitated, sitting on the edge of the bed. Her bare feet sank into the soft carpet like it was snow.
"So you're… what, some kind of AI?"
"Artificial? No. I predate your concept of AIs by several centuries. Let's say I'm a spirit bound to this palace to watch, guide, and sometimes nag the living inhabitants."
She blinked, then snorted softly despite herself.
"That last part sounded a little too specific."
"You noticed. You've been unconscious for ten days, young one. I was starting to think you enjoyed sleeping that much."
"Ten days?! Wait what happened? I was with… that masked man Nihris and we—"
"Yes, yes. The destruction of that rather unpleasant research facility. I witnessed it through the Palace's records. Quite the dramatic display, by the way. Fire, chaos, human screams, it's been ages since I saw such passionate destruction."
She stared at nothing, speechless for a moment. "I don't remember anything after that."
"You collapsed. Apparently, receiving an Archeon without proper preparation tends to do that. It forced your body into comatose preservation mode."
"Receiving a what?"
"An Archeon. A relic only the chosen can wield."
"I don't… understand."
"Then look at your hands."
She glanced down. And froze.
Her breath caught in her throat. Both her arms from her hands up to her elbows were pitch black. Blue spirals pulsed rhythmically on her arms. She began frantically rubbing at her arms, but the marks didn't budge.
"What—what is this?! It won't come off. What did you do to me?!"
"Nothing harmful. Relax. It's not poison or infection. It's simply the Archeon's mark. It is the symbol of your bond with the Ophaniels."
"The Opha… what?"
"The group your rescuer Nihris leads. You are now a part of them. Or, as he prefers to phrase it, his little rebellion against boredom."
She blinked in disbelief. "He what?"
"You'll understand soon enough. For now, focus on regaining your strength. He said he couldn't exactly change your clothes—out of respect, I assume—so he left you a few options in the wardrobe. I made the suggestions, of course."
She turned her head slowly toward the left, where an open walk-in wardrobe was. Inside, she saw neatly folded outfits that were perfectly tailored.
"Did he... how did he take my measurements while I was unconscious?!"
Observa said quickly, sounding almost scandalized.
"Not manually, good heavens. I scanned your physical structure when he brought you here. Accuracy is my specialty."
She sighed, rubbing her temple.
"That's… still weird."
"Well, if it's any comfort, I've seen enough mortals undressed over the centuries to no longer be impressed. You all look like moving anatomy charts to me."
That made her snort out a laugh despite herself.
"You're really bad at comforting people, you know that?"
"I am aware. Staying with the Master kind of gets to you."
She shook her head, smiling faintly as she stood. Her body felt strangely light. Even her scars had disappeared. She stretched experimentally, then walked toward the adjoining bathroom.
"Observa. Do you watch people when they shower too?"
"Absolutely not. I might be a palace spirit, but I have boundaries. Mostly."
"Mostly?"
"Well, if someone starts setting fire to the curtains, I make exceptions."
She laughed softly, the sound echoing in the marble chamber. For the first time in what felt like years, she felt safe.
As warm steam filled the air and the sound of running water mingled with the faint hum of the snowstorm outside, she caught her reflection in the mirror. Her dark-marked arms gleamed faintly in the light.
"Observa, so… what happens now?"
"Now, you begin anew. You've been given power, freedom, and a home. The past can sleep in the snow."
She exhaled slowly, watching her reflection blur in the mist.
"Then I guess… I'll see what kind of world I woke up in."
"And when you're done in there please, for the love of the stars, don't use all the hot water. You humans do that a lot. Even though Master managed to get me instructions to create a heating system, I do wish you would not waste too much."
"Understood."
°°°°°°°
After her shower, she found a simple outfit Observa had chosen for her. It was a simple airy sleeveless dress. It was soft enough to make her feel like she was wearing a cloud. On her feet were fluffy white slippers that made no sound against the floor. She caught herself laughing when she realized how absurdly accurate the underwear fit too, but she wasn't about to start that conversation with an ancient talking spirit.
"Alright," Observa's voice chimed cheerfully. "Let's begin your tour, shall we? You've already seen your room. Of it doesn't suit your standards, feel free to redecorate however you like. Now, shall we go?"
The hallway opened into a breathtaking expanse of glass and crystal. Sunlight—or whatever counted as sunlight here—poured through high windows, scattering across fixtures. Paintings hung between the pillars, each one depicting scenes that seemed to move faintly, like living memories trapped in oil and color. She took her time walking, eyes wide in wonder. Her hand brushed against one of the rails. It was cold at first, then warm, like it was alive.
"The Palace responds to emotion," Observa explained. "It's semi-sentient, you could say. Not as charming as I am, of course."
"Of course," she said dryly, smiling.
They passed the Grand Library, where it was empty right now. Then came the a winter meadow enclosed in glass, which seems to be incomplete for now. Either way, the place would be considered a palace by normal standards.
"This place is… beautiful."
Finally, they reached a wide archway leading into what looked like a kitchen, though "kitchen" didn't feel like the right word. The space was massive.
Without warning, a circle of light opened in the middle of the air. A swirling void portal burst alive.
The girl froze.
From the portal stepped a tall man, carrying what looked like dozens of boxes that floated behind him in a line, held effortlessly by hands made entirely of void.
"Welcome back, Master Nihris," Observa greeted cheerfully.
The man waved lazily. His tone was casual.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm home. I got most of the supplies you listed, Observa. Make sure you log them properly this time. Last time you put the canned coffee under 'miscellaneous artifacts.'"
"Canned coffee is an artifact to me," Observa argued. "It tastes like melted sadness."
"You don't have a body. How do you know how coffee tastes like?"
The man ignored him, moving through the kitchen, arranging boxes on the counter. The girl stood near the doorway, frozen. He wasn't wearing the mask this time.
Nihris was… stunning.
Long crimson hair fell down his back in a single braid. Loose bangs were brushing against his tanned forehead. His skin carried the golden warmth of someone who had spent most of his life under the sun. His silver eyes glanced over the stacks of boxes. He wore a plain white shirt and black pants, yet somehow made them look like they belonged in a designer catalog. He looked nothing like the faceless monster who had slaughtered an entire facility for her.
For a long moment, she simply stood there, staring. Her heartbeat stumbled.
"Master Nihris, your guest is present."
Nihris turned and the world seemed to pause. When his silver eyes met hers, he smiled faintly, the corner of his mouth curling up.
"Well, look at that. Sleeping Beauty finally wakes up."
Her mouth parted slightly, but no words came out. He tilted his head, amusement glimmering in his gaze.
"You've been out for ten days, but don't worry. It's only been about ten hours in the real world."
She blinked in confusion. "Ten… hours?"
"Chronological distortion. The Palace runs on a different temporal flow. A day here is an hour in the world. You'll get used to it."
Her eyes were still fixed on him, dazed, and he noticed. He gave her a lazy grin.
"I know I'm handsome but staring's rude, you know?"
Her face flushed instantly.
"I—I wasn't—!"
"Sure you weren't."
He motioned toward the boxes stacked near the counter.
"Since you're up, how about you help me move these into the storage room? It's just through that door."
"Uh—y-yeah, of course..."
"Master," Observa said dryly, "I told you this would happen if you didn't wear the mask."
"Relax, Observa. Let the poor girl breathe. Besides, what's the point of hiding a face if I'm going to live with her? She might as well get used to me."
"You're insufferably confident."
"I prefer efficiently self-aware," Nihris said, grabbing another box.
The girl picked one up too. It was heavier than she expected. She followed him toward the storage door. The smell of frost and fresh bread lingered faintly in the air. He moved slowly, humming a low tune as void tendrils gently lifted the heavier crates off the ground.
"You're… surprisingly normal," she said quietly as they walked.
"Disappointed?"
She bit her lip. "No, just… surprised."
"Good. I like keeping people guessing. If you thought I am a maniac, too bad."
They set the boxes down, and for a brief moment, their hands brushed. She pulled hers back quickly, trying not to meet his eyes. He, of course, noticed, and grinned wider.
"Now then, do you want breakfast? I know how to cook. It's nightfall in Rome so it's dinner, I guess?"