Aria Wlitt woke up to the taste of dust and something sharp digging into her back.
She groaned, rolling onto her side. Every inch of her body ached, like she'd been tossed off a building. Sunlight burned against her closed eyelids, forcing her to squint as she slowly pushed herself up.
Where… am I?
Memories came in flashes—fire, destruction, running for her life—then nothing.
Her breath hitched as she took in the world around her. The city was gone. The people were gone.
She wasn't on Earth anymore.
Wind howled over the cracked wasteland, whipping her white coat around her legs. Below, ruins stretched endlessly—a graveyard of a once-thriving world. Cracked earth. Shattered cities. Skeletal trees stripped of life.
She exhaled, her shoulders sinking under the weight of exhaustion.
"I shouldn't have tried that ridiculous experiment… Now I'm one month pregnant—great timing, right?"
Her fingers brushed against her flat stomach. The irony gnawed at her. Bringing life into a dying world—what kind of future could she possibly hope for?
Aria inhaled sharply, pressing a hand against her chest. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, but her body seemed intact—no broken bones, just bruises and aching muscles. Her coat was covered in dust, the once-white fabric stained with dirt and dried blood.
She had nothing. No supplies. No weapons. No idea where to go.
Her gaze swept the horizon. No signs of life. No structures that looked remotely safe. Just endless wasteland.
A dry laugh escaped her lips. "Fantastic. Pregnant, stranded in an unknown world, and I don't even have a damn water bottle."
As if the universe wanted to mock her, a gust of wind kicked up dust, making her cough. She tugged her coat tighter around her frame, shielding herself from the grit.
First things first—find shelter. Find water. Figure out what the hell just happened.
But just as she took a step forward, the ground trembled.
A low, guttural growl rumbled from somewhere behind her.
Aria froze.
She wasn't alone.
The growl deepened, reverberating through the cracked earth. Aria's breath hitched. Slowly, she turned.
The creature stood a few meters away, crouched low to the ground. It was grotesque—once humanoid, but now twisted beyond recognition. Its limbs were unnaturally elongated, its skin stretched tight and cracked like dried leather. Clawed fingers dug into the dirt. Eyes, too many of them, blinked in unnatural patterns across its face.
A Feral.
She'd seen plenty back on Earth before everything went dark. But this one was different—faster, more refined in its mutation.
The Feral inhaled sharply, nostrils flaring. It could smell her.
Adrenaline surged through her. Running wasn't an option—her body was still weak, her legs barely steady. If it pounced, she was dead.
But she wasn't just a survivor. She was an alchemist.
Her hands flew to the pockets of her white coat, fingers searching desperately. Something, anything.
Yes!
Her fingers wrapped around a small glass vial, one of the few things she always kept on her. It was a simple concoction—volatile salt mixed with dried phosphor-lichen. Nothing deadly, but good enough for a distraction.
The Feral lurched forward.
Aria didn't hesitate. She hurled the vial at the ground, shattering the glass.
The moment it hit the dirt, the reaction ignited—a burst of thick, shimmering smoke exploded outward, tinted green and yellow. It wasn't just smoke; it had a faint hallucinogenic property, making the air feel like it was rippling.
The Feral screeched, its many eyes dilating—some fluttering shut, others twitching erratically. It staggered backward, claws raking the dirt as it struggled to stay upright.
Aria turned and ran. Her boots pounded against the cracked ground, lungs burning with every step. The land sloped downward, leading her toward a formation of jagged rocks.
A snarl cut through the haze behind her. Aria risked a glance over her shoulder—and her stomach dropped.
The Feral still swayed, but it was recovering faster than it should. Too fast. Its body twitched unnaturally, muscles jerking as if fighting off the hallucination through sheer force of will. A second later, its many eyes snapped open, locking onto her with renewed focus.
Shit. Does this mean one's stronger than the others I've faced on earth?
Aria's lungs burned. She pushed forward—just a little farther.
Aria's boots skidded against the cracked ground as she sprinted forward. The wasteland stretched endlessly, but something in her gut screamed at her to go this way. She wasn't sure why.
The land sloped downward, revealing jagged rock formations ahead. A hiding spot? Thank goodness.
Then—a sharp pressure stabbed at her skull. Not pain, exactly. More like… recognition.
She gasped, stumbling mid-step. The moment passed as quickly as it came, leaving only an odd ringing in her ears.
Focus. I have to survive. Not just for me. She shook her head and kept moving.
Then—her foot caught on something metal.
She stumbled, barely catching herself, and looked down. The edge of a large, circular stone door was half-buried in the dirt. Ancient symbols covered its surface, glowing faintly at her touch. 'Alchemical glyphs?' She thought with a raised eyebrow.
She didn't have time to think. The Feral screeched, closing in.
Aria slammed both hands onto the glyphs and suddenly a raw alchemical intent she never knew she had poured into them, Aria's eyes widened as she mumbled, " No...way."
A deep, grinding noise echoed as the door lurched open.
Without hesitation, she threw herself inside.
The door sealed shut just as the Feral's claws slashed at the air where she'd been.
Silence.
Panting, Aria slumped against the cool stone, her heart pounding.
Then—a flickering light appeared in the darkness.
Aria's ragged breaths echoed in the vast silence. The air inside was cold, a stark contrast to the scorched wasteland outside. She pressed a hand against the stone wall behind her, its surface uneven with age, carved with intricate, swirling symbols that pulsed faintly.
The only light came from the faintly glowing glyphs on the door and the soft bioluminescence of moss clinging to the crevices of the walls. As her eyes adjusted, she realized she was standing at the entrance of a massive underground chamber.
The space stretched far beyond what she expected, its architecture alien yet deliberate—pillars of smooth, obsidian-like stone, arching overhead like the ribcage of some forgotten beast. Dust hung in the air, disturbed by her sudden entrance, carrying the scent of aged parchment, dried herbs, and something faintly metallic.
She exhaled, her eyes wide open as steadied herself. Where was she?
Cautiously, she took a step forward as she mumbled, "This is so cool. I have never seen anything like this before."
The floor beneath her was etched with golden circles, sprawling like veins across the stone, leading deeper into the ruins. Shelves lined the walls—not wooden, but carved directly into the rock, filled with ancient vials, crumbling scrolls, and metallic tools long abandoned. Some beakers still held crystallized remnants of forgotten experiments.
Her fingers brushed a weathered mortar and pestle sitting atop a stone table. Whoever had worked here had left in a hurry… or never left at all.
A thought crept into her mind—Was this place truly abandoned?
She wandered further, boots quiet against the dusty stone. Strange mechanisms jutted from the walls—alchemy-fueled contraptions with gears long rusted in place. The deeper she went, the thicker the air became, charged with something unseen. Not magic… but close.
Then—a faint sound.
A hum.
Aria froze. The noise wasn't mechanical. It was… alive.
She turned a corner and stopped.
At the center of the chamber stood a grand apparatus—a massive, spherical device of glass and metal, its surface covered in glowing symbols. Tubes and coiled wires connected it to the walls, as if it had once drawn power from the very foundations of the ruin.
And inside the sphere… something pulsed with light.
A small, flickering wisp of pale gold and blue.
It wasn't fire. It wasn't pure energy. It was something in between. The hum intensified as Aria stepped closer, her breath catching in her throat.
The wisp stirred, its glow pulsing in time with her heartbeat. Then, as if sensing her presence—it moved.
Not randomly. Deliberately.
It drifted toward her, passing through the glass as though it wasn't there.
Aria's fingers twitched, instinct urging her to pull away. But something in her gut held her still.
The wisp circled her slowly, tendrils of light tracing along her coat, her fingers, her skin. It wasn't just looking at her. It was… recognizing her.
Then, without warning, it darted forward—straight into her chest.
A sharp inhale—not pain, but something else entirely.
Memories not her own flashed behind her eyes—a lone alchemist in these very halls, toiling over formulas, crafting something beyond human understanding. A purpose left unfinished.
And then—a voice, neither male nor female, soft as a whisper yet ancient as the ruins around her.
"You… are the one I have been waiting for."
Aria's knees nearly buckled. She pressed a hand to her chest, where a faint glow still lingered beneath her skin.
Did this mean the wisp had chosen her?