Two days have passed since Haya got a new body. I've been able to move freely now, regaining my strength and all that. It's early morning, they've been hard at work trying to find my memories.
It's early morning right now and Haya's still asleep. I walked over to the stove, checking the cupboards for any coffee to find.
"If you're looking for something to drink, I only have water and wine." Twain said.
I sighed and just sat down behind him, looking over the sleeping Haya in front of me. "Can you at least tell the 'gang' you spoke of to give us supplies?"
"Yeah, they'll give us supplies from the outside." He kept me at ease, I'm trying to remember things as best as I could. I spent the past few days telling him what I remember.
Most of the time he said that it's true, other times, that it's false. And there's significantly more false than truth.
"You know…" I started,
"Hm?" Twain momentarily took notice of me. Going back to his work shortly afterwards, typing away.
"These false memories make me think that I'm not Marcus Pollus. Maybe I'm just some random person picked up and manipulated, no?"
"I know you're Marcus Pollus."
"How so? I can't be sure so how can you?"
"Cause I made your body last month, Marcus. You died last month. I don't know what happened after that."
"Cecil.. She messed with my memories, why would she even do that?"
"The commander… your previous relations with the commander should be known by you only. We don't want to be the one to tell you all you should need to know."
"I see… I'm just troubled."
"Of course you are, almost everything you thought up to now has been a lie. I would be surprised if you weren't."
"It's not that, it makes me think what else has been a lie. That since I can never live in the present, that everything in the past might be a lie. How can you be the truth?"
"How can I be… what are you talking about? I know I'm real because I'm here. I am in this moment, with you. I can feel, I can taste, I can smell."
"But how would we know that what we smell, what we feel, what we can taste is the truth? How can we be sure that they're not fabrications, a shadow of the truth?"
With that, I'm not so sure. How can one truly exist if their past seems fabricated. If their memories aren't real, how safe can they be that they themselves are?
"Or perhaps," I continued, "Perhaps everything was made last thursday." I laughed, he scoffed.
"By then we can't be sure, you know?"
"Haha… maybe it's all a fake. Everything's a simulation, only I exist."
"You're going really off all the possible concepts huh? Doing that won't fix your reality, just makes your delusion much worse."
I saw a pretty huge van steadily come from the forest in front. It had a tinge of brown and green on its bottom and upper half respectively. "You know who that is?"
Twain took notice of the van coming our way and silently said, "Yeah. Wake her up." The car pulled up beside the cottage as the three of us went out to meet whoever's inside.
The van was almost as tall as I. The windows are tinted, and checking the license plate, there is a lack thereof. I heaved a sigh, "Not surprised." I said to myself.
The door at the side of the van slid open. We took a step back as a foggy smoke poured out of it. "Hey hey!" A woman stepped out of the van excitedly. Her hair flowed just below her shoulders along the wind. Sporting a suit and sunglasses, she felt like a galactic agent wannabe, "Daphne Laurel, back on track!"
We just waved towards her as she kept up her strong smile. Slowly, the smoke reveals another person inside the van, slouched on a set of computers, whose monitors are covering the entire van's insides.
She was sitting on the floor as she turned her head towards us, "Hey there." She wore thick lensed glasses, her hair was the color of the setting sun, though tied in a ponytail, it slowed all across the van's floor, "Sorry for the smoke, Daphne hotboxed the entire van." She explained.
Daphne turned around and leaned over to the woman, "Cassieeeee, Cassandra!" I felt the gritting of her teeth from behind as Cassandra glared right at Daphne's eyes. "I told you it's for a good entrance, alright? Besides, your body doesn't process lung defects anyway." A visible eyeroll can be seen from her.
The driver seat's window then rolled down, and out came a guy. He had golden hair, a scuffed, but ultimately good looking face, and a deep blue shade of eyes, he coughed a few times, "I couldn't fucking breathe." He forced the door open and fell to the ground.
Daphne then turned back around, cigarette in mouth, she loudly announced, "The gang's all here!"
"Eh… yeah, thanks for coming here as soon as you can, guys." Haya said, clapping into a smile, "Come in, we'll explain the situation to you."