I heard a strange voice, feminine and distant, almost echoing in the dark.
"[Detected Host. AI System Functional. Binding Data. Examining Qualifications. Downloading…]"
My chest tightened as confusion hit me.
"Who? Hello?"
The voice felt like it came from everywhere, surrounding me, suffocating me.
"Milady? Hello? Can you hear me?"
It was so dark. I couldn't see anything, not even my own hands. The silence in the air felt wrong, as if I was caught in some void.
"[Downloading… 2%]"
"[Downloading… 18%]"
"[Downloading… 29%]"
"[Downloading… 32%]"
"[Downloading… 55%]"
What did that mean?
The numbers crawled higher as the voice continued.
"[Downloading… 83%]"
A heavy realization crept over me.
"Am I dead?"
My voice croaked from my throat, raspy and dry like I hadn't used it in days. That sound—it couldn't be mine, could it?
"[Downloading… 95%]"
Memories flashed before me—flames devouring my village, the sound of steel clashing, blood staining the dirt. The bandits came in waves, their laughter mixing with the screams of the dying.
The deaths...
I clenched my fists.
"[Downloading… 100%]"
Suddenly, my eyes snapped open, and I was hit with an overwhelming rush of soreness and pain. Every inch of me ached, as if I'd been torn apart and hastily stitched back together.
I saw crows, dark silhouettes against a muted sky. They circled above, cawing, as if they had claimed this desolate place for themselves.
Why? Why am I alive?
"[Parameters detected. Period: Year 1127. Detected several trauma, lacerations, and infections. Taking countermeasures—]"
The voice droned on, but I barely registered it. A cool sensation pervaded my body, easing the burn of my wounds, numbing the agony that clawed at my insides. I shivered, the chill wrapping around me like a blanket, as I crawled across the uneven ground.
Each movement sent sharp jabs of pain through my limbs, but I pushed through. My fingers scraped against the rough earth, searching for something, anything to anchor myself to this reality. My heart raced with a mix of fear and confusion.
The crows grew louder, their cries morphing into something sinister. I glanced back, expecting to see them ready to descend upon me. Instead, they maintained their distance, as if watching, waiting for a sign of weakness.
I pressed forward, the dirt shifting beneath my palms. Shadows loomed around me, twisting and turning like memories I couldn't grasp. I thought of my village, the faces of my friends and family, now lost to the chaos.
"Why did this happen?" I rasped, my voice barely a whisper. The emptiness echoed my despair, but no answer came.
"[Detected Host. Healing Process Initiated. Estimated Recovery: 72% complete.]"
Healing? The word sparked a flicker of hope, but it was short-lived. What would I return to?
I stumbled to a sitting position, panting heavily. My clothes, now tattered and stained, clung to me like remnants of a past life. I looked around, trying to piece together my surroundings. Sparse trees stood guard in the distance, their branches skeletal against the overcast sky.
The voice chimed in again, now more insistent. "[Warning: Environmental Threats Detected. Bandit activity confirmed nearby. Evacuate immediately.]"
Bandits. My heart sank. Memories of the attack surged back—the flames, the cries, and the blood. They were still out there, and I had to escape.
I stood up unsteadily, the ground swaying beneath me like a ship caught in a storm. It was nighttime, and the world was bathed in an eerie glow from the flames consuming my village. The air was thick with smoke, and the acrid smell of burning wood mixed with something far worse—the stench of death.
I could see piles of corpses scattered across the charred earth, their faces twisted in silent screams, eyes frozen in terror. Tears streamed from my eyes, blurring my vision as the horror of it all washed over me. I felt a surge of rage and desperation. I couldn't just stand there and do nothing.
I ran—not away from the chaos, but towards it, towards the first person I saw, who was busily pillaging from the dead. He didn't even look up as I approached, focused solely on the spoils of his gruesome work. Anger boiled in my chest, fueling my every step.
As a sixteen-year-old who had never skipped farm work, I was built for labor. I had strength from years of hauling hay and tilling fields. It should have been enough. But as I lunged at him, adrenaline clouding my judgment, what followed was a pathetic attempt at wrestling. I grasped for his arms, trying to pull him away from the lifeless body he was ransacking, but he was bigger and stronger.
He spun around, surprise flashing across his face as he shoved me back, sending me sprawling onto the ground. I hit the dirt hard, the impact knocking the breath from my lungs. Pain shot through my body, but I forced myself to rise again, fueled by the fire of rage and desperation.
"Stop!" I yelled, my voice cracking. "Leave them alone!"
He laughed, a cruel sound that echoed through the night. "You think you can stop me? Sorry, kid! This is survival of the fittest."
I felt my fists clench at my sides, the heat of fury rising within me. I charged again, this time more determined. I threw myself at him, but he sidestepped, and I stumbled forward, nearly losing my footing.
Another bandit chimed in as he mounted his horse, "Oi, stop playing with the kid, we're going home!" His voice was rough, impatient, and the other bandits were already far away, fading into the smoke and darkness.
The one in front of me lingered, lanky with yellowish teeth that gleamed as he laughed. "Let's take this kid! He might make a good bandit!" He cackled, louder this time, as he drew his sword.
I heard the voice in my head.
"[Hostility detected.]"
"Bandit? Me? Never!" I spat, the thought alone disgusting me. Memories of my younger self flashed in my mind, the dreams I once had of becoming a powerful knight, a hero who would protect the weak.
"[Does the host wish to eliminate the threat?]"
The voice was calm amd cold. It didn't belong here, yet it echoed in my mind as if it had always been a part of me.
"I will kill you!" I shouted, more out of desperation than confidence. But the bandit just laughed again, mocking me.
"[Permission has been granted.]"
His sword swung toward me, and time seemed to slow. Some kind of arrow appeared before me, like a mirage, pointing in a precise direction. I didn't think—I just followed it. A palm strike with one hand, aimed just below a certain angle. My hand connected with the hilt of his sword, and I gripped it as quickly as my palm landed.
A series of mirage-like instructions flashed before my eyes.
Twist.
Push.
Disarm.
Take.
Wield.
Swing.
It all happened in one sleek motion, faster than I thought possible. Before I could even process what was happening, I held the bandit's sword in my hand, my body moving as if guided by an unseen force.
And then—his head was gone. The bandit stood there, lifeless for a heartbeat, before his body collapsed to the ground, leaving me standing in stunned silence, his blood staining the earth.