CHAPTER 2: A GLIMPSE BACK
"Phew, damn," my brain futilely tried to process the mind-bending images of the Abyss and the Interrealm not meant for the human consciousness. Instead, my disgruntled organ "rewarded" its owner with a pounding headache and a swirling nightmare reminiscent of an abstract artist's creation. Just one look at it made my head spin, and my stomach threatened to rebel.
"Rebirth, then," I muttered when my condition returned to a relative normalcy, and memories of the immaterial realms dimmed and retreated into the depths of my consciousness, taking with them the recollections of hatred, fear, hopelessness, and encroaching madness. Or did I say that?
An unexpected issue with gender self-identification briefly diverted my attention from unpleasant memories, throwing me off course.
"Hmm, that's another twist," an irritated thought slipped in. Technically, with a female body, it should be appropriate to speak and think of myself in the feminine form. But why did these thoughts trigger a sense of wrongness within me? "After all, I am a girl, and I've always been one."
"No," Victor's memory disagreed. "I've always been a guy! And even though I might not have the physical attributes now, spiritually, I'm all man. Heh-heh."
"Yeah, I don't know about the physical attributes, but my earthly sense of humor somehow managed to survive even after death," a faint smile crept onto my lips against my will. "He and Kay Lee would have easily found common ground."
Alright, maybe I should approach this from a different angle. My imagination conjured up an image of a partially undressed beauty approaching with rather explicit intentions. For some reason, the dark-haired and red-eyed girl suspiciously resembled my sister.
The image that materialized before my eyes triggered a wave of approval within.
Moving on: in place of the beauty there was a muscular guy and with a sinister grin and held out his hand to me. Hands stretched out where they shouldn't have instantly caused a desire to chop them off, preferably along with the owner's head.
So, there's the answer. Which, in principle, wasn't surprising: as an Earthling, I had enough experience in dealing with girls, thanks to the medical school not far from my alma mater that greatly contributed to it. Kurome, on the other hand, had limited experience, marked by vague dreams of a 'handsome prince' gleaned from books.
"Heh, in that case, I choose... you, pink color!"
...But thinking of myself in the male form? That's something...
On the other hand, why not? Confusing gender forms wouldn't be much of a problem. In this regard, the Imperial language resembled English from my previous life more than my native Russian. Besides, I wanted to retain something from my previous existence, even in this strange way. After all, what remained of Victor? No family, no friends, no body, no life. Only a memory with a name, and even that... Who could guarantee it wouldn't gradually fade away? "Ah... forget it! I want to think of myself as a man, and that's that! It's only relevant in Russian anyway," I placed... rested my elbows on the table and leaned my forehead on my palm. "Besides, that's the least of my problems."
So, what am I now? Victor in a new body? Or Kurome, with new memories? Something in between? On one hand, I represented a single entity with two sets of memories. On the other, our life experiences were too different.
No, we shared common traits as well. For instance, both of my personalities loved books, music, and sweets. Or, haha, the fact that in games, Victor preferred the necromancer class. Dreams do come true!
But there were still many conflicting differences. For instance, even though Victor's character had deteriorated significantly after the accident, he probably couldn't have cold-bloodedly killed the rich kid responsible for it. On the other hand, Kurome had no moral qualms about the murderer of her loved ones, even if he was an involuntary one. Yeah... if I were on Earth, I would have thoroughly tortured him first. Then, turning him into a lifeless puppet, I would have sent the bastard to eliminate his own family.
Upbringing and profession leave their mark.
So, what should I do now? As it seemed to me, this duality would not bring anything good. If my hand falters, then instead of killing the enemy, I myself will receive a sword strike in the stomach.
Or someone from the group will get it.
"No! I won't let them die, not because of me! I don't want to lose anyone else! There are too few of us left," I thought, clenching my teeth with determination. The faces of my fallen comrades appeared before my eyes.
"Guys..." my lips barely whispered. "I hope your next life will be happier than this one. May you be spared from the Abyss."
"Darn it! Why did the memories return now? Why not earlier? Maybe then, I could have figured something out, saved someone! Or persuaded my sister not to betray the Empire and stay with me."
"Akame, why did you leave me?" A figure with crimson eyes, long black hair, and a katana at her side emerged from my memory. "We were doing just fine together. Traitor!"
"What? Why do I think my sister isn't a traitor? Why is there anger rising from the depths of my soul? And why is it directed not at my sister, not at the rebels she ran away with, who killed so many of my friends, but at our command and the Imperial authority?"
Something clicked in my mind, settling into place with a satisfying crunch. Memories of this life began to flash before my inner eye, passing through the prism of my new, unified personality.
* * *
I was born in one of the Imperial villages. We lived quite comfortably, almost prosperously. Even with our increased appetites, my older sister and I never went hungry. Meat on the table wasn't exactly rare either. Things took a turn for the worse when I was five. First, the village men stumbled upon a dangerous beast while hunting. It had killed my father's brother and seriously wounded him, leading to considerable expenses for his treatment. Then, an excessively dry summer devastated most of our crops, and the tax collector announced that he would now be collecting half as much again. The men decided to go hunting again, but since most hunters had perished the last time, nothing good came of it. Hunger descended upon the village.
* * *
"Girls, you are strong; you'll survive for sure!" my mother said through tears. "Akame, watch over your younger sister and keep her from doing anything foolish. And you, Kurome, listen to her and stay close. Do everything they tell you to," the dark-gray eyes of the prematurely aged woman, who in another world would have been considered quite young, gleamed with feverish determination. "Everything will be alright; you'll see!"
"She's just a little over twenty," I thought dispassionately through my memories.
Father didn't say a word; he simply watched my sister and me, as well as two boys brought here with us, with eyes filled with powerless sorrow and anger. He abruptly turned and, limping, walked away.
* * *
The place they brought us to was a compound enclosed by log walls, with barracks, a courtyard in front of them, and an obstacle course running along the wall. Initially, they let the newcomers rest for a couple of days, and we only slept and ate. We were fed with a meaty broth that seemed like the food of the gods to us. The best part was that you could have as much as you wanted.
After everyone had rested and eaten a bit, we joined the other children. From morning till night, with short breaks for rest and meals, we ran through the obstacle course. Those who fell behind, complained, or, according to the soldiers, were too lazy, received prods and stick blows.
"If you want to pass the exam, you must train with all your might," their leader said with a malicious grin. Or, as he insisted on being called, Sergeant Samvel. After a couple of weeks, when all the barracks were full, they had us line up instead of the usual training.
Sergeant Samvel announced that the exam was approaching, and all we had to do was run through the nearby forest and get to the designated place.
On the day of the test, when we reached the starting point of the route, each of us was given a combat knife. "You will need to fight off the forest creatures," explained Sergeant Samvel, "and, well, you can also use this beautiful knife to commit suicide, heh-heh-heh! Anyone who reaches the top of that hill over there"-Samvel waved his hand towards a distant hillock about a kilometer away from us-"will be considered past. I repeat, anyone who manages to reach the meeting place will be met there. But the first few lucky ones will get a special reward!"
"Mr. Sergeant Samvel," a child's voice shouted from the crowd, "What will happen to those who don't make it?"
"Didn't I say?" the sergeant grinned. "The Empire has no use for the weak and failures, so they'll die! Now get moving! Time's ticking!!!" With that, the children surged forward.
As it turned out, the forest was teeming with predatory monsters, which pounced on our group as soon as we ventured a bit deeper. Now I understood that there weren't any truly dangerous creatures, and there weren't so many monsters gathered, but at that moment, everything looked completely different. Some children panicked and ran back, some froze in shock, and others were knocked down and trampled by their fellow. Several people were torn apart by the beasts, but most managed to run away and continue their journey.
Soon, from the edge of the forest, where Sergeant Samvel and the soldiers remained, gunshots rang out along with pitiful cries from the children, indicating that nothing awaited the cowards but death. Around me, there was weeping, cries of pain, fear, and the predatory growling of the beasts that had reached the living flesh.
"Faster!" Akame exclaimed and grabbed my hand. "We're running until the monsters are distracted!" And so, trying not to pay attention to the blood and cries, we sprinted forward.
"S-sister, I can't run anymore," I said, stopping and bracing my hands on my knees.
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"We're almost there, Kurome! We can do it!" After a few minutes of catching our breath, we continued on our way. Just a bit further, we stumbled upon a horrifying sight: a gigantic cross between a vine and a Venus flytrap was devouring the bodies of the group of children who had passed us.
"We can't go that way!" Akame shouted. "Let's go, we'll find another path!"
"They... they were eaten..." I blurted out, watching in a sort of trance as one of the traps twitched with the foot of a child still stuck inside.
My sister, grabbing me by the hand and looking into my eyes with her blood-red ones, tried to reassure me, "It's okay," she said firmly. "Big sister will always be with you."
"Alright," I replied, regaining my composure.
When we resumed running, a large dog suddenly leaped out from behind a tree, grabbing my cloak with its teeth and knocking me onto my back.
"Ahhhh!" I screamed in fear and surprise.
"Kurome!" my sister exclaimed and was suddenly at my side. With a swift motion, she stabbed the dog's neck near its spine with her knife, then threw the beast off me. In a few seconds, as Akame tried to pull the knife out of the dog's neck, I sat up. And saw a second dog, already in mid-leap, heading straight for my sister's back.
Time seemed to stand still. Through the thickening air, I lunged toward the creature slowly soaring through the air. In that moment, like many of the surviving children, I awakened my abilities for the first time. "Don't you dare touch my sister!"
The blade effortlessly pierced its flesh, and I yanked it aside, almost severing the beast's neck. Then, a moment later, I found myself thrown to the ground with the lifeless body of the dog beside me. Fortunately, during the strike, I had stood a bit to the side, so the creature couldn't bite me or pin me underneath it.
"Sorry, sister, but I can't run any further," I gasped, my entire body aching from the bruises and weakness, my heart pounding heavily in my temples, and darkness encroaching on my vision.
"I'll carry you! We're almost there; climb on!" Akame said, and, bending down, she helped me onto her back. When we finally reached the finish line, two figures greeted us. One was older, bald, clean-shaven, wearing a long gray coat with a high collar and a monocle in his eye.
The other figure, a blond man in his thirties with a short beard and hair just below his shoulders, dressed in a white shirt and dark trousers with a long scarf wrapped around his neck, and a katana at his waist.
"You did well. The exam is passed. Now you need to tend to your wounds," said the bald man.
"We made it, Kurome!" Akame exclaimed.
"Yeah! Thanks, sister!" I replied, emotions of joy and disbelief swirling inside me that it was finally over. With me on her back, Akame made her way towards the tents adorned with a cross at the entrance.
After some time, when our wounds were treated and bandaged, the blond man with the katana entered the room.
"The exam results: Kurome, you receive rank number 8, Akame, number 7. It's a miracle that you got that rank, considering you also protected your sister, Akame. You will be trained separately from each other. Akame, you'll come with me. Kurome, the Empire will take you."
"No! Kurome stays with me!" Akame hugged me tightly.
"Sister," I said, gripping her with all my strength, my voice hoarse. Tears welled up in my eyes.
The blond man snapped his fingers, and two soldiers burst into the tent, easily breaking our embrace. One forcefully pushed Akame onto the bed, and the other dragged me outside.
"Don't worry; it's just a temporary measure," the katana-wielding man continued as if nothing had happened. "If you behave yourselves, you might see each other again someday, I promise."
"Sister! Kurome!!!" Akame's cries echoed in my ears.
"Don't be sad, Akame. I'm your new family. You can call me Father," came from the retreating tent.
"Dirty piece of garbage! It's a pity Akame has already killed you, otherwise you wouldn't have died so easily." It broke through the memories. Although even now I wasn't sure I could kill him. He was too strong and experienced. But if it worked out, I could make a beautiful puppet out of him even without his Teigu.
After walking about ten meters, the soldier put me down on the ground.
"Move, hurry up! Did you think I'd carry you all the way, brat?" he grumbled, pushing me toward the children lined up in front of the bald man.
"I'm Commander Bill. You all survived and passed the test, but you didn't make it into the top seven," he said, folding his hands behind his back and addressing us as he continued speaking. "And now you'll be under my command. Each of you has been assigned a number in the ranking. Your number can change based on your performance during training. Those who occupy the top positions in the Ranking will be rewarded, while the bottom will face punishment."
Our new commander continued talking, but I wasn't listening anymore. Tears streamed down my face as I desperately tried to suppress the sobs. Sergeant Samvel and his henchmen had drilled into us that crying and screaming would get us nowhere.
After the exam, training began, and it was surprisingly easy for me. What used to be difficult now came naturally. The reason was that I had become stronger, and so had the others to varying degrees. That was the purpose of this inhumane but, in some strange sense, rational test: to identify the most talented among the hundreds of unique children gathered from across the country and eliminate the rest.
Even when we began combat training, I learned new moves and techniques faster than anyone else. Despite being the youngest and smallest in our group, I won the majority of sparring matches. The head instructor said I had the makings of a great warrior.
The instructors treated us differently from Sergeant Samvel and his crew. They punished only for valid reasons, not out of a twisted love for discipline. For those at the top of the ranking, there were numerous privileges, including special meals and more free time, not to mention the favorable treatment. But even without all that, I wouldn't have stopped trying.
To enter the Elite Seven and be with Akame again, I had to become the best! Besides combat skills, we were also taught other subjects, though their impact on our ranking was minimal. Counting, writing, biology with a focus on the study of useful and dangerous plants and animals, map reading, first aid, and more. It was all relevant and logical for future assassins in the Empire's service.
The inclusion of Literature, Calligraphy, and Fine Arts in our curriculum remained a mystery to me. Perhaps it was for the same reason they ignored the basics of tactics, setting up ambushes, and traps – things that even a novice like me, Victor, would have thought of when preparing a special forces unit. Though I would admit that in the future, these seemingly "useless" disciplines came in handy for writing mission reports and interacting with civilians. History of the Empire (or, more accurately, propaganda with a touch of history) was one of the few theoretical subjects that actually had an impact on our ranking. However, it was not so much about historical knowledge as it was about understanding the "party's politics" and the "current moment." Later, I learned that our training plan was developed with the personal involvement of our commander, whom we saw very little of in the years following the exam. As it turned out, it would have been better if he never showed up.
Seven and a half years of education left a bright mark in my memory. No one had managed to displace me from the eighth position on the list (the top seven positions were securely held by the Elite Seven). We all became friends and tried to support each other. For the other kids, I became something like a role model to imitate and, at the same time, a little sister. The latter sometimes annoyed me, but it was hard to stay mad at them for long. The future seemed bright, and my imagination painted pictures of the Defenders of the Empire, with Akame and me at the helm, defeating armies of vile foreign barbarians, rebellious nobles, insurgents, and traitors.
Trouble came when no one expected it. First, our bald commander, who held the rank of a general in the intelligence service, appeared. Then, for some reason, he quarreled with the head instructor of the Base. After Instructor John and his assistants left, Commander Bill declared that he would personally take charge of our training. The new instructors who replaced Master John yelled more than they taught and generally treated us with caution, as if we were dangerous animals. We had to rely more on self-preparation, which our "instructors" didn't object to, taking on the role of supervisors maintaining order.
A month later, the general announced that we would be enhanced with a special drug. Over the course of a week, we were injected with some kind of substance that made us nauseous and confused our thoughts. Afterward, the doctor who appeared with the commander explained that we now had to take special pills every day, or else we'd feel unwell. Those same pills, if the dosage was increased, were the "enhancing drug." After taking the stimulant, the abilities and skill growth of most of the students in our Underground Base increased significantly, especially those who were falling behind. Those who had already been in the lead didn't experience such a significant boost. However, the euphoric feeling of false strength and invincibility that followed the drug made it challenging to focus on combat. We had to learn how to control ourselves in that state.
We also had to go through certain "procedures." We were made to sit in a chair with strange speakers on either side, and a needle from an IV was inserted into our veins. Then strange noises mixed with voices would play from the speakers, and our memories would fade. Afterward, as I now understood, after being subjected to hypnotherapy, our heads were filled with confusion and noise, and the propaganda we had learned by heart began to seem like undeniable truth.
Soon, the commander decided that we had had enough regular training, and now we had to learn how to kill.
For this, our commander had made an arrangement with the authorities of a nearby prison. We were split into groups, and under his personal supervision, we carried out the work of executioners each week, practicing our strikes on the condemned prisoners lined up before us. At first, it was terrifying and repulsive to cut down bound individuals who were screaming in fear. However, eventually, like everyone else, I got used to it and began to treat it as routine. Ignoring the cries and pleas of the condemned, I focused more on ensuring that I killed my target with a single blow and didn't get bloodied. Those who couldn't finish the job in one blow had to clean up the execution area. Unfortunately, we were collectively responsible for each other's actions, so thanks to Remus, the blonde of the group, we often found ourselves cleaning up the mess. Maybe that task is what ultimately desensitized us to the sight of mutilated corpses, but no one in the group was eager to express gratitude to Remus.
If you wanted to kill quickly, you aimed for the head or pierced the heart. Remus, on the other hand, always seemed to want to hit somewhere less vital, like the stomach, or even spoil the air by opening the abdomen. Not to say she was a terrible fighter. She wasn't the best, but she also wasn't at the bottom of the list. Had I not known her better, I might have thought she was intentionally making her victims suffer. Fortunately, no one else in the group had issues with this.
There were some positive aspects to the new training as well. After we started training on the condemned prisoners, they monitored us less and allowed us to roam the Capital in our free time (which we now had more of). They even started paying us, so we could buy new clothes and spend money as we pleased. In general, things weren't going too bad. That was until the much-anticipated missions began, which in all their glory showed who we really were for the command.
Our first mission was to eliminate spies who had been smoked out of the villages near the Capital using a simulated epidemic. We, as "Team A," were assigned the largest squad.
"Attention. Let's go over the operation plan one more time," said Natal, a blue-eyed fifteen-year-old blonde armed with a glaive.
"Roger that! Fortune favors the prepared, doesn't it?" supported him Wu Ming, a constantly serious-looking brunette with chin-length hair.
"Our target is the spies who took refuge in the villages near the Capital," Natal continued, trying to demonstrate confidence. "Another group has lured them into our area. Our mission is to kill anyone who shows up here."
"D... don't worry, we'll do it!" nervously replied Remus.
"We could do it with our eyes closed! Piece of cake!" boasted Gin, the owner of a magnificent bust, light blondish tail-like hair, and a two-handed cleaver.
"Gin, your hands are shaking," teased Natal.
"Hmph! They're shaking from anticipation, idiot!" retorted Gin.
"Everything is fine," I said calmly. "We just need to act as we usually do. After all, all our training has been for this moment."
"Exactly! Just as Kurume said," Wu Ming supported me. "I heard that the mortality rate on the first missions is very high, but... guys, don't die!"
"Of course, we won't die," Natal smiled. "We'll survive!"
A foolish frontal attack on thirty armed fighters was bound to encounter difficulties. This was where our almost non-existent experience in group battles became evident. Instead of staying close together and covering each other, we separated. The stimulant we had taken, cursed be it, also contributed to our difficulties, making it challenging to think clearly and assess the situation.
It all began when Remus, momentarily distracted from the battle, was ambushed and severely wounded, with a spear piercing her abdomen and kidney. Then Wu Ming encountered an opponent who exceeded her in strength and combat skills, and despite her attempts to block, he split her from head to groin with his axe. As for Gin and Natal, us being among the best warriors in our training center, we managed to dispatch our adversaries with relatively little trouble. I personally beheaded the killer of our friend, but it didn't make things any easier.
When we returned with the wounded Remus and the remains of Wu Ming on a wagon captured from the rebels, the commander was far from satisfied. As it turned out, our group was the only one unfortunate enough to encounter such a formidable enemy and suffer losses. As punishment, we were thrown into the brig and deprived of our "medicine" doses, allowing us to experience withdrawal until morning. "That bald bastard! As if it's our fault that we fought the way we were taught!" I thought.
In the morning, we were released from the brig and ordered to assemble in the auditorium, where the Commander decided to make a speech. When everyone had gathered, he announced that Remus, having sustained a severe injury, had become unable to fight and was disposed of as she was deemed useless to the Empire. Clearly relishing the effect of his words, the Commander went on about our duty to the country, the necessity of being strong, and how the Empire wasn't wealthy enough to feed weaklings and idiots.
But I, like the other kids, didn't hear him, as I was stunned by the news. The picture of a bright future had shattered into countless pieces and fallen into the abyss of darkness.
Subsequent memories did not bring anything new. I already remembered well the missions that my group, consisting of Gin, Natal, one other girl, and a boy, continued to carry out. Some of the assignments seemed worthy of fascist executioners. I also remembered our encounter with Akame's group, which had rescued the three of us from captivity, and our subsequent joining of the Elite Seven instead of those who died.
... Gin's death, literally devoured from the inside by bugs of that damn insect user... other deaths...
The reunion with my sister was perhaps the only genuinely bright moment after completing our training. However, reviewing my memories with fresh eyes, I could see how, as she carried out assignments and lost her comrades, Akame grew increasingly disillusioned with the Empire and what we were doing. It was no surprise that at some point, she decided to leave.
When my sister offered to run away with her, it was a real shock for me. The most expensive person offered the unthinkable — to betray the Empire! Shock, misunderstanding, burning resentment… Which of these feelings were my true feelings, and which were inspired by hypnosis? I still had no idea. Even now, my sister's act seemed like a betrayal to those who died and to those who remained alive. If I had gone with her then, I would have had to fight against my former comrades in the future.
The thing was, they never drugged or implanted triggers in the Elite Seven. Akame's strong sense of justice, combined with her exposure to the Empire's dark side and the nature of our commanders and officials, likely left her with no other choice. She didn't seem to take any pleasure in the killings we carried out, especially against innocent civilians.
After Akame's escape, the new commander, Marcus, who replaced Bill after my sister killed him, issued us new drugs, claiming they would make me even stronger and replace the traitor. Inside, I felt only coldness and emptiness.
Only Natal and his support helped me hold on to my sanity. If he had abandoned me, I might have gone completely mad. When my friend, who had become like a brother to me, was shot on the western border during a mission in the village of Tekido, I teetered on the edge. Fortunately, his wound turned out to be not so severe, and within a couple of weeks, Natal was back on his feet. Sadly, we were waiting for us then, and the battle between two groups against hundreds of rebels did not go without casualties. The insurgents had gathered not the worst fighters, but they couldn't defeat us, paying a high price for underestimating us.
The remnants of the two battered groups were disbanded, and a new one was formed – Group A. Now we became the Elite Squad.