Days blurred together, melting into a single, endless march through desolate cities and barren plains. My every step was accompanied by the faint hum of my mechanical core—a soft, rhythmic vibration that never ceased, a constant reminder of what I was. Or rather… what I wasn't.
The sun loomed high above, its light pale and sickly, casting long shadows that did little to chase away the gloom. The world felt… broken. Like something vital had been stripped away, leaving behind only hollow ruins and a silence so deep it swallowed even my thoughts.
I sighed, the sound barely audible in the still air. "It's like the world's given up," I murmured, my voice hoarse from disuse.
The words drifted through the empty street before fading into nothing. I half-expected an echo, but even the ruins refused to acknowledge me. Just another ghost wandering through a graveyard of forgotten memories.
I stopped walking, scanning my surroundings. The buildings around me sagged like exhausted corpses, their structures cracked and crumbling. Some had collapsed entirely, reduced to jagged piles of rubble that jutted out like broken bones. The wind whistled through shattered windows, carrying the faint scent of rust and decay.
"No day, no night…" I muttered, kicking a loose piece of debris. It skittered away into the distance, swallowed by the void. "Just this endless… nothing."
Time had lost all meaning. Each day stretched on endlessly, yet they passed in an instant, slipping away before I could grasp them. And when night came, it brought only a suffocating blackness—no stars, no moon. Just an abyss that pressed against me, watching, waiting.
I placed a hand on my chest, feeling the faint vibration of my core beneath the synthetic skin. It was strange. My body no longer felt exhaustion the way humans did. I didn't hunger, didn't thirst, didn't need sleep. Yet, there was an emptiness in me, gnawing at the edges of my thoughts like a wound that refused to heal.
What did I lose?
The question echoed in my mind, a whisper that never left me. My fingers brushed against the cavity in my chest—an absence both physical and… something deeper. Something I couldn't explain.
"What am I missing?" I asked the silence.
As expected, it had no answer.
But the world wasn't entirely dead.
I wished it was.
I had seen them before—the creatures lurking in the ruins, twisted and wrong, remnants of something that should never have been.
The first time I encountered them, it had been during one of those endless twilight hours, the sickly sun hanging low in the sky. I had been moving through an abandoned district when I heard it.
A growl.
Low, guttural, vibrating through the air like a predator testing the waters before a kill.
I turned.
They stood there—shadowy figures with elongated limbs that didn't bend the way they should. Their eyes burned red, flickering like dying embers. Their forms twisted unnaturally, their bodies jerking and blurring as if caught between moments in time.
My grip tightened around the steel pipe in my hands—a rusted piece of debris I had scavenged for protection.
"Stay back," I warned, though my voice barely carried.
They circled me, moving in that sickening, unnatural way. Their glowing eyes never wavered, locking onto me with a hunger I didn't understand.
Then, one lunged.
Too fast.
I barely had time to react, but my body moved on instinct. I sidestepped, swinging the pipe with all my strength. The impact reverberated through my arms, sending the creature skidding across the rubble before it dissolved into nothing.
The others hesitated. Then, one by one, they retreated into the darkness.
I stood there, chest rising and falling in mechanical, calculated breaths. The hum of my core quickened, a vibration thrumming through my frame like a heartbeat that wasn't my own.
My hands trembled.
My voice came out hoarse, barely a whisper. "What are you?"
But I wasn't just asking them.
I was asking myself.
By the time twilight faded into evening, I had walked farther than I intended. My legs didn't tire, but something in me—something deeper—felt heavy. Weary.
That was when I saw it.
A library.
It stood defiantly against the ruin surrounding it, though time had not been kind. Its roof had caved in, its once-proud walls cracked and leaning. The rusted sign barely clung to the entrance, the word Library faint beneath years of corrosion.
I exhaled, running a hand through my dust-covered hair. "Still standing, huh?" My voice carried a tinge of bitterness. "Guess that makes two of us."
I pushed the door open. It groaned in protest, dust swirling in the stale air.
Inside, the remains of knowledge lay in ruins. Shelves had toppled like dominoes, books lay scattered across the floor, their pages torn and yellowed with age. The silence here was different. Heavy. Like the ghosts of the past were watching.
I knelt, picking up a book. Its spine had snapped, its cover brittle beneath my fingers.
"People used to come here for answers," I murmured. "To learn… to dream."
Now, it was nothing but another graveyard.
I sifted through the wreckage, not entirely sure what I was looking for. Maybe nothing. Maybe everything.
Then, I saw it.
Half-buried beneath a collapsed beam was a journal. Its leather cover was cracked, its edges singed as if it had barely escaped a fire. Carefully, I pulled it free, brushing away the dust.
The weight of it felt… significant.
I flipped through the fragile pages. Ink smudged, words faded, but I could still make them out.
"The disappearances are accelerating. We don't know why or how, but entire towns are vanishing overnight. The council insists on finding a solution. Time is running out…"
My breath caught.
"We placed our hopes in Project Rebirth. If the worst happens, it will be our last chance."
My fingers trembled.
"Project Rebirth…" I whispered.
The name felt… familiar. Like a forgotten dream just out of reach. The hum in my chest grew louder, as if responding to the words.
The writer of this journal—they had known. They had seen the collapse of the world and tried to stop it.
And somehow… I was connected.
"This has to mean something," I muttered, gripping the journal tightly. My mind churned with half-formed thoughts, fragments of a past I couldn't remember.
Then, from the distance, I heard it.
A howl.
Low. Guttural.
My body tensed. Outside, the shadows shifted. The night had swallowed the world whole, bringing with it the monsters that lurked in the dark.
I shoved the journal into my satchel, securing the strap over my shoulder. The weight of it pressed against me, solid and real.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow, I would find answers.
Tomorrow, I would start searching for the truth.
The wind howled again, carrying with it the distant groans of a dying world.
I closed my eyes, leaning against the wall. The hum of my core thrummed softly beneath my skin, steady.
And in the silence, one thought refused to leave me.
Project Rebirth.
Their last chance.
And maybe… just maybe, mine too.