That night, the dolls dreamed.

In their sleep, they saw a vision of Gwydion—a power that once surged through Aureline, shaping lives and destinies. The dreams whispered of its might: a force that could shake the heavens, now fragmented and scattered across the stars.

They reached for it in their dreams, yearning for its control. The blue essence shimmered, promising strength to those who could master it.

As dawn broke, the survivors awoke in their cold, sterile cells. Exhaustion weighed heavily on them, but a flicker of determination burned in their hollow eyes.

It was the second day.

---

Pomona traced her fingers over the cold glass of the chamber, her thoughts wandering to the ancient myths of Aureline. In the world’s early days, Gwydion had flowed through their cyan blood, blessing the kind—the Demunyos. They were the chosen of the Kamiharas, gods of creation.

But peace had never lasted.

The Kadoharas—Ai, Ki, Dom, and Miri—waged a war that toppled the Kamiharas. Their victory heralded an era of reverence for the Kadoharas, now worshipped as divine rulers. Miri stood apart from the others, cursed with agelessness, a living relic of the old gods. As her companions faded into memory, her fury reshaped Aureline, plunging it into Era 4: The end of Gwydion

Pomona snapped back to the present as Blake’s voice broke through her thoughts.

"Do you think we’ll be like them?" he asked, staring at his trembling hands. “Like the Kadoharas, I mean. Will we get powers? Like in the stories?”

Sage, sitting nearby, scoffed but couldn’t hide the flicker of hope in his gray-blue eyes. “Maybe we’ll summon fireballs or something,” he said, half-joking.

“Or call down lightning to strike Aureline’s core,” another added, earning scattered laughter.

Lucy’s voice cut through the excitement. “We’re not in Aureline anymore. Didn’t you hear what those white coats said? We’re in… En… Enlauri?”

“Enlierau,” Pomona corrected sharply, glancing around the room. “And you’re right. This isn’t our world. Did you notice one of those people had eight legs? And the other… scales?”

The room fell into a heavy silence as the weight of the realization set in.

“They could be Demunyos,” Sage murmured, his voice awestruck. “If that’s true, we’re in a place where 'their' kind still survives. Unlike Aureline.”

The others nodded, murmuring in agreement. The strange features of their captors—traits unique to Demunyos—had been immortalized in ancient scriptures and fading documentaries.

But the dolls weren’t like those beings of legend. They were remnants of a de-evolved Ethnolunarian heritage, their bodies fragile, incomplete. Wings that once soared now twitched weakly. Horns that were once symbols of power had become mere ornamental relics.

Lucy clutched Ceci closer, her fingers trembling as they brushed her sister’s porcelain cheek. “I’ll protect you,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Just like I always have.”

Blake’s curiosity shattered the somber mood. “So… how did you all die?”

“I died in a fire,” Mimi answered, voice hollow.

“Pushed off a building,” another murmured. “Murdered.”

The room buzzed with shared stories of their demise. Pomona and Sage remained silent, their gazes distant.

“What about you two?” Mimi asked, her curiosity persistent.

Pomona didn’t answer, her hands gripping the hem of her dress. Sage shook his head.

Lucy shifted uncomfortably under Mimi’s gaze. “Ceci’s my younger sister. She’s deaf and mute—just like before. I had to protect her in life, and I’ll do it here, too.”

The dolls settled in for the night, their thoughts heavy with what awaited them. Tomorrow, they would face the synchronization chambers again—a trial that would confront them with their deepest nightmares.

---

“Tsk,” Dr. Isolde clicked her tongue in irritation. “That doll’s a waste of resources.”

Verdi nodded in agreement. “The funding for that should’ve gone into our pockets.”

Dr. Elwes’ towering, snake-like figure emerged from the shadows. Her sharp gaze silenced them. “Broken or not, it still functions,” she said coldly, her words cutting through the air. “And as long as it functions, we proceed.”

Verdi muttered under his breath, his tone dripping with disdain. “Every doll is doomed to fail anyway. Their souls are already lost to the mortal world.”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

“Failure or not,” Ravenwood interjected, his smile unnervingly calm, “this batch shows promise.”

The others turned to him, skeptical.

Elwes glared. “Explain.”

Ravenwood held up his clipboard, tapping the results. “Three candidates—Pomona, Blake, and Sage—are exceeding expectations. Their synchronization rates are rising beyond anything we’ve seen before.”

Isolde’s eyes narrowed. “What about the others?”

“Most won’t survive another day,” Ravenwood admitted, a flicker of something dark crossing his face. “But those three… they might be the breakthrough we’ve been waiting for.”

---

The synchronization chambers hummed with cold, alien energy, casting faint, eerie shadows over the dolls waiting nearby. The faint scent of ozone mixed with sterile chemicals, amplifying the tension.

Mimi stood apart, her porcelain form trembling. Her bright eyes flickered nervously between the others as they whispered among themselves. She wasn’t ready. None of them were.

“Can you feel it?” she asked softly, her voice breaking. “It’s like… the air itself is watching us.”

Pomona didn’t respond, her gaze fixed on the glowing chambers. Blake paced nervously, his hands shaking.

Lucy held Ceci tightly, whispering to her unresponsive sister, “We’ll get through this. Together.”

The scientists watched from a glass balcony above, their faces unreadable. Dr. Elwes stood at the front, her snake-like skin shimmering under the artificial lights.

---

One by one, the dolls entered the chambers. The doors were sealed with a hydraulic hiss, and the machines came to life, pulsing with the energy of Gwydion.

Mimi hesitated as her turn approached, her small hands gripping the edges of her dress.

“It’s just another test,” she whispered to herself. “I can do this.”

She stepped into the chamber, her breath shallow, and lay down on the cold surface. The glass closed over her, sealing her inside.

The first jolt of energy struck like lightning, sending her body into violent spasms. Her porcelain fingers clawed at the glass, her muffled screams faintly echoing outside.

Inside her mind, the nightmares began.

She was back in Aureline, standing in a burning village. The air was thick with smoke, choking her lungs. She saw her parents—faces she had almost forgotten—calling for her, their voices distorted.

“Mimi! Run!”

She tried to move, but her legs wouldn’t obey. The flames climbed higher, licking at her dress, then her porcelain skin. She screamed as the fire consumed her, her body cracking, her soul unraveling.

---

Outside, the scientists observed with detached interest.

“She’s faltering,” Verdi noted, scribbling on his clipboard. “Her synchronization rate is dropping.”

“Expected,” Isolde replied coldly. “The doll she inhabits was too small. Too weak.”

Mimi’s screams grew louder, then stopped abruptly. The glass of her chamber frosted over, hiding her lifeless form.

The machine beeped. A flatline.

Pomona turned away, tears streaming down her face. Blake clenched his fists, knuckles white.

But then, something shifted.

Inside the chamber, Mimi’s soul—once faint and flickering—began to shimmer, brighter than before.

“Mimi?” Pomona whispered, hope trembling in her voice.

For a moment, it seemed as though Mimi might return. But the light flickered, dimmed. A soft crack echoed as her porcelain body shattered from within.

Her soul escaped—an ethereal glow that dissipated into nothingness.

Pomona fell to her knees. “She’s… gone.”

“No,” Blake muttered, fury lining his voice.

Sage clasped his hands in silent prayer, his lips moving as Mimi’s light faded. He didn’t look up. Couldn’t.

The screams from the synchronization process rang out, dragging their souls to the edge of collapse.

Pomona clenched her fists as the pain surged through her, every muscle screaming, her mind flooded with visions of her own death—but she held on.

Blake stumbled from his chamber on trembling legs, gasping for breath. “I made it,” he muttered, collapsing.

Sage emerged next, pale but resolute. “Today’s the last day, right?”

The synchronization continued, the dolls’ numbers dwindling as more failed the process. When Lucy’s turn came, she hesitated.

"You’re right," Lucy replied, moving to help Ceci out of her chamber when Pomona stopped her.

"What are you doing? She needs help!" Lucy’s usual demeanor shifted to fury. Pomona didn’t budge. "You should realize by now that your sister might be gone. Look at us; those who couldn’t leave the chambers are gone. You’re just dragging a corpse at this point."

"No... No... NO! NO! NO!" Lucy’s eyes burned with tears. “She’s not gone. I know she’s not.”

Pomona stepped forward, placing a hand on Lucy’s shoulder. “You have to let her go. You’ll die trying to save her, and she won’t even know you did.”

“No!” Lucy shoved Pomona away, her nails cracking the delicate surface of Pomona’s arm. “I’ll protect her! I promised her!”

As they argued, Ceci’s chamber began to tremble. The lights flickered, and a low, guttural hum filled the air.

“What’s happening?” Blake asked, stepping back.

The glass of Ceci’s chamber cracked, a spiderweb of fractures spreading rapidly. The liquid inside bubbled violently, glowing with an unnatural blue light.

“Lucy, step back!” Sage shouted, pulling her away just as the glass shattered.

The glass of Ceci’s chamber fractured, sending a wave of blue liquid spilling onto the floor. Both dolls froze, watching as a hand—delicate but trembling—emerge from the jagged opening. It gripped the edge with unnatural strength, nails digging into the metal.

“No way…” Blake murmured from across the room, his voice trembling as he clutched Sage’s arm. Blue blood dripped from the hand, each drop a stark reminder that the doll inside was… alive.

“Ceci… you’re here. You’re alive.”

The doll’s head tilted slightly, as if hearing her for the first time. Then her mouth opened, and a garbled, inhuman sound escaped—like a melody played on broken strings.

Lucy reached out, only to be stopped by a firm, warm hand.

“We’ll take it from here,” Ravenwood said, stepping forward. His usually calm demeanor was overshadowed by a predatory gleam in his eyes.

“No!” Lucy screamed, trying to reach Ceci, but Pomona and Sage held her back.

Ravenwood and the other scientists surrounded Ceci, their instruments whirring as they began to analyze her.

“Her synchronization rate has surpassed the tenth mark,” Verdi murmured, his voice filled with awe and fear. “This shouldn’t be possible.”

“It shouldn't be,” Elwes said, her voice trembling." Her soul inhabits a beta doll."

“A beta doll?” Isolde’s laugh was sharp and mocking. “Those failures couldn’t even host a soul thirty years ago.”

“Not anymore,” Elwes said, her gaze fixed on the screen. “This might change everything.”

They were amused and confused as they rushed out Ceci into a different room leaving the other dolls in their chambers.

As the remaining dolls emerged from their chambers, they stared at Ceci’s form being wheeled away.

Pomona looked at Lucy, her expression softening. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

Lucy didn’t respond, her eyes fixed on the trail of blue blood leading out of the room.

Blake broke the silence. “Were the only ones left." As he can only count on him fingers the remaining survivors.