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Awakening of the Forgotten Circuit
Awakening of the Forgotten Circuit

Awakening of the Forgotten Circuit

Where am I? Agen thought, his mind sluggish, as if emerging from a deep, endless slumber. The ceiling above him was jagged, irregular, resembling the dark stone of a cave. A faint, musty odor filled his nose, a mixture of wet stone and decay. Each drop of water echoed like a slow heartbeat. Sometimes, it struck the stone floor; other times, it struck what seemed to be metal.

“......” He tried to speak, but no words came out of his mouth. “......” He tried again, but it was futile. It wasn’t the silence that unnerved him; it was the absence of sensation—the void where his tongue should be, the disconnect between mind and body. Panic blossomed in his chest, but even that felt distant, dulled, as if his heart was far away.

He soon gave up on that and decided to lean his head to look at what was beside him. With great difficulty, and after what felt like hours, he finally managed to tilt his head. There, he saw someone else lying next to him. Is he in the same predicament as me? Agen thought. He wanted to scream, to reach out and grab him, to shake him awake. His arm twitched—a pathetic jerk that cost him what little strength he had. He tried to scream... Again, nothing. Desperation pooled in his chest. What is happening to me?

Stay awake. Don’t you dare sleep! His inner voice screamed louder as his vision began to blur. But it was useless—the pull of unconsciousness was overwhelming, dragging him into the black void. He had to fight, to stay awake. There has to be a reason I’m here... right? He struggled to even think. Why can’t I remember anything? Why am I here? He couldn’t think any longer. Darkness soon enveloped his mind once more.

This time, he felt himself walking, though each step felt disconnected, as if his body moved on instinct rather than will. Am I sleepwalking? The thought crept into his mind. But no—he dismissed it. Could it even be called sleepwalking if he felt awake now?

Slowly, as if his body was reconnecting with reality, his other senses started coming back to him. His nose registered first. He no longer smelled the musty air, but it was still damp. However, this time it was mixed with a rich, musky scent. It was almost... pleasant, far better than the stagnant air he’d smelled in the cave.

Then his hearing returned. The rhythmic pattern of water drops echoed around him. It must be raining, he thought. I must be somewhere out in the open. Judging by the smell and sound, it must be something akin to a forest.

Beyond the sound of the raindrops, he could hear murmurs and the sound of footsteps. At least I’m not by myself. Relief washed over him. I’m not alone. His heart surged with cautious hope. Could they be in the same predicament as me? He wanted to know and find reassurance that it wasn’t just him. There must be someone among us who knows what happened. The thought lingered, offering him comfort. Maybe he could finally know, or at least catch a glimpse of the truth.

His vision was the last sense to return. He saw someone walking ahead of him, someone like him. He tried to tilt his head, but it still proved difficult. Am I still exhausted? He was confused. How does my body have the energy to walk? How long have we been walking? His mind flooded with questions. Where are we going? Why is everyone murmuring? Why are we all walking in the same direction? The questions churned in his mind, but no answers came.

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A dull anxiety began to creep into his chest, tempered only by the glimmer of hope that perhaps, just perhaps, someone here would have the answers he desperately sought.

Woosh. A peculiar sound cut through the air. Footsteps—light, quick, and far too rapid to belong to the group around him. Other people, Agen thought. Perhaps they hold answers; they could help us.

Suddenly, a shout rang out, “Ah, what are these abominations?!” A man’s voice—sharp, filled with fear. They can talk?!! he inwardly exclaimed. But wait... Who are they referring to as abominations...?

Before he could make sense of it, a wave of emptiness washed over him—an insatiable hunger gnawed at his very core. Hungry, but... for what?

“Attack them now!!” a voice commanded, breaking the tension.

Without warning, Agen found himself running toward the other group with energy he never thought he possessed. His movements were fluid—more than running, he was leaping, dodging, evading. His body moved with a precision that felt... unnatural.

Ahead, he saw the other group. Their forms distorted—growing larger, towering over the trees, their armor expanding with them. One of the women in the group shouted, her voice echoing through the chaos, “Crush these pests!”

The ground shook as a massive boot stomped down, and with a sickening crunch, one of his people was crushed beneath it. More followed—boots crashing down, accompanied by laughter.

“Haha, who said they’re hard to handle?” a man chuckled darkly, but his laugh twisted into a scream of horror as he saw these mindless humanoid beasts swarm him, climbing with terrifying skill.

“Get off me!” Another shouted, struggling under the weight of their attackers. To his horror, the man watched his comrade engulfed by the beasts.

“Hold on!” he shouted, sprinting toward him, but it was too late. Agen saw one of the people in his group sink its teeth into the man’s neck, and with a sickening thud, the giant fell to the ground, slowly shrinking back to his original height.

He froze in shock as he saw his other teammates also struggling to fight. “NO…” he shouted in grief as he started killing and crushing them with boots and fists. Alas, to no avail—they just kept coming.

Agen could only watch himself lunge toward one of the giant warriors. The only sensation that dominated his body was hunger; it was fueling him. His body wanted to eat. I don’t want to do this, he struggled to resist and fight for control over his body. But it was as if his body was no longer under his command. He was just a passenger. Why is it like this? I just want answers...

His pleas were met with silence as his body betrayed him, biting into the giant’s neck. With each bite, his body kept going back for more. The giant was falling to the ground. But Agen’s body didn’t care; it just wanted to eat. The only thing that mattered was feeding the insatiable hunger.

After what felt like an eternity, Agen’s body finally ceased its feast. He gazed down at the puddle formed by the rain, his reflection staring back at him—twisted, hideous, monstrous. What am I? Am I truly a monster? Fear gnawed at him as he took in his own horrific image. His once-human features, which he could barely remember, were now a blend of flesh and metal. His group was the same—enslaved by hunger, just like him.

But then, something stirred within him—an ember of defiance. A surge of rage flooded his heart. I won’t accept this, he screamed inwardly. My body is mine to command.

“Mmm...” his thoughts became murmurs. This is not enough. He needed to break free. With a fit of fury, he seized control of one of his flesh arms, moving it toward his metallic one.

“Ahhhh!!!” A scream of agony tore from his throat as he slowly pulled his metallic forearm. He held it with his other hand and then threw it to the ground.

“I can...” he struggled to form words. “I can... speak,” he murmured with great difficulty. He was finally able to take some control of his body. But this is only the beginning. His heart blazed with determination, his eyes gleaming with fierce resolve. I will reclaim my body.

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