A moment of silence followed…
Then, not long after, a faint hiss of static crept in—like the last breath of a world that had just gone dark.
kzzzt… ssttt… kzzzt… ssttt…
"...Hello?—Chief? Can you hear me? Respond, please respond, the signal's still a mess… damn it, this is seriously annoying."
The voice broke apart beneath layers of electromagnetic noise, yet it was clear enough to pierce the cold, empty space.
Slowly, from within the darkness, the sound of dripping water emerged—
plok… plok… plok…
Repeating softly, in rhythm with the distant hum of vibrating electric currents.
The camera rose at a gradual pace. A thin shaft of light slipped through cracks in the ceiling, cutting through the drifting dust and revealing a vast corridor of metal and stone. Its walls were fractured, some sections swallowed by roots of old cables that still pulsed with a faint violet glow.
Puddles on the floor reflected that light like dull mirrors—echoes of a city long since dead.
Splish… splish… splish…
Slow footsteps rang out. One after another, drawing closer, marking someone wading through ankle-deep water.
krrkzt—
"So they really moved the chip underground, huh? What a pain. But of course—who else but Crytek, always hiding things in toxic ruins like this… seriously, even from here I can still feel the stench of their death. Four hundred and fifty-three years ago… why does it always have to be damp places like this, Chief?"
krrt—
"Hey. You're still there, right?"
The camera slid sideways. Through drifting dust and slanting beams of light, the silhouette of a woman emerged—walking with quiet composure, shoulders firm, her steps nearly soundless.
Her silver hair swayed low, catching a faint golden glimmer from the opening above. On her left ear, a rectangular, gold-layered earring engraved with a pen-and-lotus motif swung lightly, reflecting the light with each step she took.
On her right ear, a small ear-comm glowed dimly, blinking in sync with the operator's continuous muttering.
"Chief, listen up. Thermal scan shows four contacts in the corridor ahead—likely light Crytek drones. But seriously… what I can't figure out—"
"…why you decided to do this alone. Where did you send that red panda?"
Far off to the other side, between stacks of metal containers and the remains of old modular ruins, something moved slowly. Not something—someone. Or rather, a small creature with orange-red fur, its fluffy tail swaying in the air while half its body disappeared behind a pile of scrap metal. Only the tip of its tail stuck out, wagging left and right, occasionally freezing whenever the sound of falling metal rang out from within the heap.
That red panda was clearly searching for something—maybe a broken data core fragment, or perhaps just following the scent of burnt oil. A creature far too lively for a silence like this, but nonetheless, it was her partner.
The operator in the comm cleared their throat, their voice returning.
"You usually do recon like this together with it, don't you?"
Silence answered.
"Chief…?"
She didn't reply. Not even a glance. Her golden-orange eyes remained fixed straight ahead, sharp in shape, rising slightly at the outer corners—carrying an air of dominance and resolve.
"Ah, right. I forgot. You prefer silence over answers, as always. Guess I'll have to figure out what to do before waiting for a response from you."
Her gaze shifted past her shoulder. The long corridor stretched onward—filled with standing water, cables dangling from the ceiling, sparks of electricity flaring in the air whenever a short circuit occurred.
Damp vapor slowly rose from the ground, forming a thin veil of mist around her legs. Each step sent gentle ripples across the water's surface; above them, reflections of electric light danced along her silhouette.
On the inside of her left wrist, a thin, dark-gold glow flickered into existence for a fleeting moment—her Abyssal Seal. It vanished just as quickly as she lifted her hand, brushing aside a cable that blocked her way.
"Alright, Chief. Listen carefully."
"Our target is in the Tyrak G12 facility's storage chamber—the Harmonic Observation Kernel. An old-model data chip, Tyrak–V1A series. If this leak is true, it contains a fragment of pre-collapse Aether. You understand what that means, right?"
That facility—G12-HOK—was once part of Tyrak Corporation's clandestine research network, back in an era when humanity still sought to rewrite the laws of energy with their own logic. The Harmonic Observation Kernel was no ordinary laboratory; it was built to observe 'Aether resonance,' invisible waves born from shifts in space and consciousness.
Tyrak's researchers believed that beneath every machine system lay a fundamental frequency of reality—something that would later be known as Aetherial Logic. What they didn't realize at the time was that their experiments were opening the door to ruin.
The Tyrak–V1A data chip was a relic from that age—a storage unit with a biological structure capable of holding information as living resonance. It wasn't just a chip; it was a fragment of memory from the old world. And if it truly contained a piece of pre-collapse Aether, then it held energy in its pure form—untainted by the Abyssal Code.
'Pre-collapse Aether' itself was an old term for the pristine energy source that existed before the breakdown of the Aetherial system. Such a substance was almost impossible to find now, as all modern forms of Aether had been contaminated by Abyssal Code, their structures irrevocably altered.
In simple terms, what they were after wasn't mere data—it was the last trace of a world before it shattered.
And whoever possessed it…
could rewrite history.
"If that thing activates, every system in the city could come back online—even without a stabilizer!"
"So… please, don't do anything crazy before I—"
The voice was suddenly swallowed by a surge of static.
kzzzzt… skkkrrrhh…
Silence, once again.
The gaze lingered on her back—the figure stood still, staring straight ahead without a single word. Light spilling through the broken ceiling brushed part of her face, revealing soft, pale skin and a pair of orange-golden eyes reflecting distant sparks of electricity along the walls. That gaze did not tremble, did not waver; it was calm—like the eyes of someone who had already moved beyond fear.
For an instant, an electric arc lashed across the side wall—
CRAAKSS!
Light burst from the adjacent surface.
By reflex, she tilted her head slightly to the right, evading it by a fraction of a second before the bolt split the air. The flash danced through her silver hair—glimmering like threads of light woven into twilight dust—then cast a gentle shadow onto the dusty wall opposite her.
Below, the pooled water shivered faintly. Within its reflection, lines of golden light flowed along with her steps—as if luminous ink were writing spells in the air every time she moved.
She continued forward in silence. Only small ripples remained in her wake. As though the corridor itself swallowed her presence, leaving behind nothing but a faint trail of light slowly fading from the air, as if even the world hesitated to believe someone had truly passed through.
—4 minutes, 128 seconds elapsed.
From afar, the footsteps stopped.
The corridor widened; through a vast opening above, the light of the setting sun poured through shattered metal and fell upon a small clearing below. Dust spun through the air like grains of light, glittering between sparks of electricity leaping from broken pillars.
Across the clearing, directly before a massive metal door marked Grid 12, stood a formation of figures clad in black armor streaked with crimson glints.
Their heavy steps echoed, metal boots striking the wet floor in a steady rhythm. One of them stepped forward; his helmet faced straight ahead, reflecting the orange sky hanging far above the ruins.
"Stop right there," his voice was flat, distorted by the helmet's modulator. "This area is restricted. Identify yourself—who are you?"
The woman did not answer. She stood at the boundary of light; her silver hair swayed gently in the wind flowing down from above, catching the dusk like shards of silver that refused to fade.
A long, deep-red coat with glowing hexagonal patterns split down the back fluttered lightly with each passing gust. Beneath it, layered tactical wear of black and dark brown synthetic leather clung neatly to her form, outlining a slim build and near-perfect military discipline.
Two holster belts wrapped around her thighs—one securing a compact weapon on her right, the other carrying a thin energy module glowing faint blue.
On her right shoulder, a piece of red fabric was neatly stitched as an accent to her uniform—not the emblem of any faction, but a distinctive element of a tactical design long abandoned by the modern world. Its crimson hue stood in sharp contrast against the surrounding dark browns, as though it were the only thing still refusing to fade amid the dull colors of the ruins.
Fine details along its surface reflected the dusk light, as if they still held onto a fragment of identity unwilling to disappear. Her golden eyes stared forward without fear, mirroring the sunset like embers on the verge of dying—yet still burning deep within her gaze.
Light from above fell squarely upon her body, as though the sky itself were pointing out the lone figure still standing in a fallen world.
Whispers rippled through the soldiers' comm channels. The clicks of heavy weapons followed in turn, forming a cold harmony that made the air tremble.
"Hey! Are you deaf!?" one of them shouted. "State who you are, before we—"
"—Do you want to be introduced to me?" her voice cut in calmly, light as a whisper that needed no repetition.
The tone alone was enough to freeze every sound in the clearing. Several soldiers exchanged glances behind their red visors—there was something in that voice, something that made the air between them tighten.
Then they asked again, repeating the phrase with mocking voices, aware now of a strange unease that told them this woman was no ordinary intruder.
"Be introduced to you?" one of them scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous! An infiltrator like you deserves to be eliminated on the spot!"
And with that sentence, he raised his assault rifle and fired five shots without hesitation.
DAR! DAR! DAR! DAR! DAR!
The gunfire thundered loudly—but something felt wrong. The muzzle flashes streaked through the air—then vanished, disappearing before they could strike anything.
The figure before them did not move. No wound. No sign of impact. As if the space between them had rejected the very existence of the bullets.
Then the woman looked straight at them.
"The bullets you fired never existed," she said softly. "You only dreamed of firing them. Time… reduced them to nothing more than echoes of an event that never happened."
The soldier froze, then hurriedly checked his weapon with trembling hands. The indicator lights still showed the same number—forty-five rounds, not a single one missing.
"…How is that possible…" he whispered, breath caught in his throat. "What did you do…?"
The figure answered in a flat voice, almost devoid of emotion.
"Nothing."
Clearly, that single word was deadlier than a thousand threats.
"Damn it!" the soldier cursed, his voice ringing through the internal channel. "All units! Take her down!"
At once, the formation moved. Weapons were raised in unison; two mage-soldiers traced Aetherial patterns through the air, luminous crystals spinning in tight orbits around them. At the same time, a massive soldier leapt high with an energy axe, the swing tearing a pressure wave through the air.
But before any of it could reach its target—the figure lifted her right hand. Slowly.
And with a single snap of her fingers…
TICK!
The world slowed.
"Stubborn fools… I told you, I only wanted to be friends," she said in a low voice. "Yet you chose the wrong path."
Instantly, the space choked on an unnatural deceleration. Time—stretched thin—slackened for everyone except her. The wind ceased teasing her hair; the sparks dancing along the walls flickered into lethargy; droplets of water that had been falling now hung suspended, frozen midair like halted crystals.
She stepped forward, calm, unforced.
SPLAK — SPLAK — SPLAK.
Bullets fired from the soldiers' rifles crawled through the air, like ripples pulled loose from the surface of time itself. She brushed each streak with the tip of her finger, nudging their paths aside as if combing invisible threads.
The bullets veered off, slicing through empty air before dropping far from their original course. The shooters, the attackers—still shouting and moving—looked like puppets tugged by tangled strings, their motions heavy, unsynced, delayed.
"I don't have time for this," she whispered as she passed between them, her voice cold and low. "But I'll leave you a gift for your rudeness—as a lesson."
As she walked, she pressed something onto several bodies: small, gold-plated objects without timers—rings that never realized they were bombs. The soldiers felt nothing beyond the weight of metal and a dull confusion.
She crossed the line with unhurried authority. Graceful. Unlabored. No heavy breathing. The moment her figure slipped past the threshold of the metal door, the air hummed strangely—sounds like digital glitches and cracking glass echoing briefly.
ZRRRTTZZZZ—
The world snapped back.
Time, light, sound—everything collapsed into a single breath. The soldiers who had been aiming found themselves returned to their original positions, as if they had never moved at all.
Confusion spread.
"My body… feels strange. What were we just doing?" one asked, his voice trembling.
"What do you mean?" another replied, staring blankly ahead. The clearing was empty. Only puddles of water rippled softly, leading toward the open door in the distance.
"It feels like… I fell, but never hit the ground," a soldier murmured, his tone unmoored.
"Why am I standing here—wasn't I just—" voices struggled to piece reality together, but their gazes remained hollow. And then—
DUARRRR!
The gift detonated.
The explosion tore through space itself—fire and light rolling outward, erasing the points that had been marked as attackers.
And even after the air began to pulse again, the world had not fully recovered. The layers of reality trembled—like thin glass rubbed from opposite sides.
This wasn't mere slowdown; the entire chain of cause and effect within that area had been rearranged. Bullets, movements, even the intent to fire were rejected by the timeline, erased, then rewritten in a new order.
In a single breath, the world accepted a different version of its history… and forgot the first.
Inside—
The echo of the blast thundered down the descending corridor, sending panel indicators into wild flickers. Thin mist swirled through the air, lifted by waves of heat. In the distance, ancient machines hissed—long breaths from a past that refused to die.
The woman continued deeper, then spoke again, her tone low, almost extinguishing.
"Did you know? I like a lot of brave men…" The faint smile appeared, almost like an old habit. "They always seem perfect—handsome, cool, strong, reliable."
She walked slowly. "And they always fail… when they still want to be compassionate."
She paused. "Because that's the point… where they stop existing."
Unbeknownst to her targets, a small hidden CCTV had been watching all along—from a narrow angle, well concealed.
A mechanical voice from the security system echoed:
"Identifying target...."
"Threat level—not detected in Crytek database."
"Probability: independent infiltrator."
Then, with a slow tilt of her head, she looked straight at the camera—as if she had known it was there from the beginning.
"Calculation failed."
"Foreign subject cannot be parsed."
"Danger, danger!"
"Activate security protocol!"
"Activate security protocol!"
Mechanical alarms rang out in repetition—rhythmic, tearing through the silence like the heartbeat of a panicking machine. Panic spread across the network, carried by metallic echoes and trembling digital signals.
In the control room, CCTV screens across the facility flared to life all at once. Every monitor showed the same figure—her face staring directly out from countless angles, as though her existence was no longer bound by space.
Her gaze was sharp, reflected across dozens of glowing screens. A gentle smile rested on her lips, sweet… yet behind it lurked something far more lethal than silence itself.
"And you…" her voice came through clearly, calmly, yet felt on every screen. "…will be my next pawn."
Not merely a physical threat, but something far deeper—a game of time and mind. A quiet warning from a being whose very existence had surpassed the limits of reality, leaving the world with only one question to ask… why was she there at all?
***