Verdant grass, green and yellow - shorter than the grass in her construct - carpeted the soft dirt beneath her form as her body was enveloped in a gentle wind. The wins seemed to come alive, forming something that looked similar to a dust-devil, centered around her. For a few seconds, it grew in size until it flattened the grass beneath it, though right when the wind was growing so strong it might lift dirt into the air, the bottom of the miniature tornado centered on the woman’s mouth, filling the still lady’s lungs with fresh air.

When new oxygen entered her body, the woman’s body jerked to life as she gasped and her limbs convulsed at the sudden burst of energy. Raising herself from the ground with a jolt, she opened her eyes and looked around. Tears formed in her eyes, rolling down her cheeks as she confusedly took in the surrounding area. Her body automatically blinked the water from her eyes away, sending another jolt of surprise through her body.

“Huh? What?”

She raised her hands to her face, and upon feeling the skin on her face, wet from tears, her brows furrowed. Tears? She hadn’t cried in a millenia - so why was she crying? Was she sad? She didn’t think so, though her emotional cortex hadn’t been completely functional for at least half the time.

‘Wait-’

Reaching out her right hand, she was about to close her hand into a fist when she noticed the bruises.

Blue, yellow and purple dotted her arms. She looked down, and saw the same was the case with her legs. She also realized she was wearing a white sleeping gown that would have been beautiful if not tattered at the hems, and browned in places from the dirt. The woman’s brows furrowed, but she quickly put the matter to the side. She was alive, and in no immediate danger. She focused back on the air before her.

Fist closed except for a raised index finger, she tried tracing her finger down in a straight line. Nothing happened - The veil didn’t drop.

She tried snapping her fingers - again, nothing happened. She tried to make signs, wave her hands around, any and every command she knew. No menus popped up, none of the surrounding area was manipulated, and she didn’t start hovering from the ground. As she was fiddling around with her hands in the air, slowly, the tears on her face dried and the tremor in her arms slowly stilled.

“Strange… There hasn’t been this bad of a glitch since the seventh year- *cough*” Her hand shot to her chest as her eyes watered once again. Her heart was beating frantically and somewhat unevenly, and with a feeling of panic she could only faintly remember having felt before, her thoughts raced for a solution. A few seconds went by, and her vision started blurring. Then, a thought struck her.

‘If I can cry, then…’

She opened her mouth, and breathed. This spurred a coughing fit, her lungs seemed to be mad at her for not realizing sooner. But she continued, and in the end, she was breathing steadily, though manually, and her vision cleared and heart settled.

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As she breathed, her mind became focused on the sensation. The smell of fresh, green grass and the earth from which it grew. Her chest rising and falling in a steady, measured rhythm. Air - actual, real air, flowing though her windpipe. Her human windpipe. Spreading her arms, she plopped back down on the ground, remembering that she could experience pain again only when her head landed on a small stone deceptively hidden under the layer of grass. It sent a jolt through her, and she started thinking there might be issues with her circuitry -

‘Oh, right. Humans don’t have circuits...’

She sighed, looking up at the blue sky that was dotted with columbus clouds.

“Haah. I guess I should have a name. Every human deserves a name,a” she mumbled. ‘And, even if this is a dream, if I’m even still capable of having those, I… I’d like to try it, once.’

The thought of having a name felt utterly unfamiliar to her. She, of course, remembered having had a name, but when her Father recreated her into what he always referred to as ‘The World-Order Construct’, he hadn’t given her one. It didn’t feel ‘natural’ to give a humaroid a name, he’d said. In the end, she had to agree with him. An undying construct shouldn’t have something so human. It wasn’t their right to have something that not even all humans were given. It would make her Masters - well, her former Masters - uncomfortable, she was certain. Anyhow, she liked the idea of having one. With the air in her lungs, she wanted to speak it.

Unknowingly, her eyes grew slightly wider, and with her gaze fixed on the free sky became fiercer, and she smiled.

“Blaire. I’m Blaire.”

Blaire’s voice was raspy and harsh, her throat clearly having been damaged too, but it sounded so uniquely human, so much more full of life than the monotone and robotic voice that had been grafted onto her previously, that she couldn’t help but smile even wider.

“Ha! If the Raised Ones could see me now,” she chuckled.

Raising herself from the lush meadow with some effort, she brushed some dirt off the white nightgown and looked around once again.

To her left and behind her were grasslands that seemed to go on infinitely, and to her left was a small river that moved from far away and into the pine forest located in front of her. Looking around herself, a thought popped into her head.

‘What does water feel like?’

Letting her curiosity lead her towards the river. The few stoned on the ground hurt her feet, raw from seemingly having run for a while, but she didn’t mind. At least it was a sensation. The pain was calming, in a way.

When Blaire reached the creek, she crouched down and without hesitating, lowered her hand into the water.

“Surprisingly warm…” she smiled.

Looking up, she decided to follow the creek, absentmindedly humming here and there, trying out her new voice until it became less harsh and sounded more natural. It still sounded somewhat monotone and robotic, but at least she believed she could somewhat pass as a human. She continued until she saw something in a clearing in the forest that made her already curious mind even more confused.

A mansion.