Chapter 10: Are you truly gone?
Nemneseia sang a song that echoed through the air, its melancholic notes pleading to be heard by her kin. Each strum of her voice carried a profound sadness, piercing through her body—onto Yusciel’s soul. Her hair stood on ends as waves of chill washed over her body, and her ears filled with the familiar language of a lament sung by her people to ensure their plight would never be forgotten—a defiant reminder of their sufferings and a plea for remembrance to eternal oblivion.
Yusciel held her breath, clutching her chest as tears fell down her cheeks, blurring her vision. The melody’s sorrow resonated within her, a shared burden tugging at her instincts, begging for deliverance that could not ignore.
Yusciel wondered, ‘This… I… I never imagined our last cries would be so painful.’ She took a deep breath, biting her lips, fighting back tears. ‘Why does it feel different now? Have I only begun to acknowledge these feelings we never fully understand?’
Grimacing, she resolved, ‘I need to leave.’ Wiping away tears with the cuffs of her black hoodie, she muttered, “I can’t bear to listen to something I’ve already had.”
Yusciel quickly rose from the bedside with Nemneseia’s voice still haunting the room. She spared a sidelong glance to the sight of Nemneseia’s outstretched hand, subtly urging Yusciel to take it, causing her to clench her teeth in response. “You followed me,” Yusciel soured, her confusion growing on her face. “I agreed to accelerate the seed. So why, are you here? There’s no explanation for you sudden appearance, even singing a Final Lament.”
Nemneseia remained silent, arms hanging limp, as the melody persisted. Yusciel shut her eyes, feeling the weight on her shoulders grow, and wearily opened her eyes gain. “Why now, on my ship? This… This is unlike you.”
Yusciel hesitantly extended her hand, drawn in by Nemmeseia’s song. As their fingers intertwined, a warmth seeped into her skin, and Nemneseia began caressing, sending tingles racing through her body. Goosebumps pricked Yusciel’s flesh, her lips purse, her eyes struggling to face on Nemneseia’s figure. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t tear her gaze away, sensing the world around them warping and trembling into a blurred, dreamlike reality.
With a trembling voice, she mustered the strength to whisper, “Release me—”
“I SAID! RELEASE ME!” she shouted, exerting all her strength to break free from Nemneseia’s hold. The sudden release sent Yusciel stumbling backward, colliding with the cabinet with a loud thud. A muffled groan of anguish escaped her lips as she crumpled to the floor, cradling her throbbing head.
Unconsciously, she wrapped her fingers around the back of her skull, wincing at the aching pain that pushed like a beating drum. With her mouth agape, she struggled to catch her breath, her unfocused eyes fixed on the distorted, constantly changing patterns of the carpet beneath her. Repeatedly, she whispered to herself, “Yuel, breath… Yuel, breath.”
Raising her gaze, she locked eyes with Nemneseia, still seated across the room, motionless and watchful, her silent presence palpable. Yusciel fixed her position against the cabinet, attempting to soothe her frayed nerves as she held Nemneseia’s gaze, the moment seemed to extend into eternity. Gradually, her vision and steadying her breath, she became keenly aware of sweat beads tickling down her back, her body tingling with discomfort and numbness.
‘I should have never touched you,’ Yusciel thought, summoning her strength and pinching her thighs, the sharp pain offering a fleeting relief from the numbing sensations. With fist clenched, she beat against her legs and arms in search of relief.
A gentle voice broke the silence, “A supernova can hasten the Seed’s process, you know…”
Yusciel jolted, her senses suddenly alert as her eyes locked onto Nemneseia’s figure, the background seeming to dim, with the structures warping and colors clashing, leaving her disoriented. A sickening churn twisted her stomach, but she held it back in with a forceful, measured breath.
“Yuel, are you listening?” Nemneseia’s soft words echoed across the room as she rested her chin on the backrest.
Yusciel glared sharply, straightening her body. “Are you foolish?”
Nemneseia’s eyes widened in surprise, “W-what?”
“That… That idea won’t work…” Yusciel grimaced, her eyes falling as her throat tightened uncomfortably. Her voice grew hoarse as she continued, “The Seed needs to harvest souls when a body dies—I need to harvest them before the Souls disappear into nonexistence.”
“But that’s not going to happen, right?” Nemneseia replied, now smiling. “This world has a place that gathers souls—unlike ours, where souls simply disappear.”
Yusciel's eyes lowered as her clenched her arms tightly. “First and foremost, you have no authority in this. I am not open to hearing any of your suggestions. This is not your project; it belongs to my team. You have no right to tell me what to do.”
Yusciel squeezed her eyes shut, apprehensive of what would happen next. It was her time at confronting Nemneseia’s words. With a sigh that reached her ears, Nemneseia made a nonchalant remark, “You’re right, definitely, I really can’t… But I just can’t wait—I really just can't wait for the seed to grow so big that it pierces through the heavens, tethered into the depths of the world, absorbing every nutrient like a black hole.”
‘Huh?’ Yusciel’s mind raced as she slowly opened her eyes and realized everything appeared normal. ‘Why… is it different?’
As she looked around the room, once a chaotic space assaulting her senses, now calm—the room had returned to normal as if nothing had happened. Yet, Nemneseia was still there, sitting across the room, staring at Yusciel with her black eyes. The only lingering discomfort was the cold sweat and the uncontrollable shaking of her fingers.
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‘How odd…’ She remarked in her head. Summoning her strength, she pulled herself up by the bedside, ‘Why is my anxiety gone? That’s weird… I didn’t take any medicine—I don’t understand this…’
She clicked her tongue, redirecting her gaze towards Nemneseia. “Why don’t you focus on your, whatever—projects you considered the most ideal, efficient, and the best among the rest?”
Nemneseia pursed her lips, pointing her finger at Yusciel, and made incomprehensible gestures. “It’s a race! My idea is better than yours! We should be fighting, resisting, not running away like you guys!”
A sharp pang ached in her chest as drew her legs close for a hug. Her eyes heavy were heavy with memories flashing before her, her head bowed as she whispered, “But that failed… In the end, we were defeated. I am the only one who survived, the one who must carry on.”
“That’s because it was incomplete!” Nemneseia’s voice rose. “The avatar I was making was much more powerful, one that could bypass realities and laws that bind us in our realm!”
Yusciel sighed, stealing a glance at Nemneseia through her sleeves. “Let’s refrain from discussing this further, Nemneseia. The past… The memories are too painful—I’d rather not talk about them.”
“But you have to?” Nemneseia tilted her head, confusion lacing her voice, “Isn’t that what keeps you alive? You, the last surviving person of our kind—our shared past, our projects, our struggles…”
Yusciel turned away, her hands trembling. “You’re not entirely wrong but it's another thing altogether… It’s complicated…”
“Complicated? How so?” Nemneseia pressed on.
Yusciel moved towards the wall, rising from the bed before approaching the window. Parting the white curtains, the sunlight flooded the room, causing Yusciel to briefly squint. Gradually adjusting, she beheld the view of the sky adorned with white clouds, framing a colossal ship resembling a small island—Wanderland—coming into view. A rare smile appeared on Yusciel’s face as she turned back to Nemneseia. “Because, Nemneseia, I have Wanderland.
“Huh? Those pesky mortals of flesh bound to become decomposed by nature? Fuel for the Seed?” Nemneseia mocked.
Yusciel couldn’t help but glare at those words, simply replying with a trembling voice, “That may be true, but thanks to them, I have discovered what was missing within me.”
“Missing?”
“Our kind never had entertainment, we lacked passion for the arts. Yet, since reincarnating into this world, I have never felt more complete. My work has never been as vibrant, as flavorful as it is here compared to our previous world,” Yusciel explained, a cryptic smile crossing her face. “I feel satisfied here. As someone born a Prime Scribe, this world completes me.”
“Passion for the arts, huh?” Nemneseia mumbled, resting her chin in her hands as she leaned back with a thoughtful expression.
“You won’t understand this—you have no passion for what you do. Not just you, but all of us. Perhaps it’s because of our situation, the circumstance that made survival our sole focus,” Yusciel remarked, her eyes fell to the ground. “Yes, that could certainly be the case.”
“Maybe—but to be honest, I don’t get it. Why did our conversation come to this?”
“I… It’s hard to explain… I don’t know either… But all I can say, coming into this world has changed me for the better—and I look forward to waking up every day. Everything in this world is what makes me alive.”
“Right…” Nemneseia replied, “Quite… yes, you might say that, but it is the Seed that truly makes you alive.”
Yusciel turned and sat back on the bed, rubbing her stomach. “Not in a literal sense,” she said, as she took off her black hoodie and Wanderland White shirt to inspect the black symbol etched on her stomach—a circular shape with a line crossing at the center, numerous familiar letters etched along the sides of the symbols.
Closing her eyes and holding her breath, she tentatively placed her fingers on her stomach, applying pressure until they slowly entered her body. Her mouth fell open uncontrollably before she clenched her jaw in discomfort. Moving her hands further inside, she felt the wet warmth wrapped around her fingers within her stomach. Continuing until she touched an object, she firmly grasped onto it and pulled it out slowly.
“Wait, why are you taking the seed out?” Words reached Yusciel’s ears, but she didn’t respond, her focus unwavering.
Her stomach throbbed in pain as the large object was extracted with a pluck. Opening her eyes, she caught her breath, the wet, thick substance dripping off her fingers as she held the Seed—an object that appeared to be made out of metallic circular with familiar letters and cryptic patterns etched on its surface.
Without wiping her fingers, Yusciel examined the Seed for abnormalities yet found nothing discernible.
“Color me impressed,” Nemneseia smiled. “Your body hasn’t matured into an adult, yet you already have developed pocket storage in your body” She hummed, surprised. “But it doesn’t look like you have fully developed continuity to space transition, deformation, and formation. Did you undergo a new evolution? Or some kind of variation?”
“There isn’t a place I can hide the Seed…” Yusciel replied, softly smiling. “So, we made a new variant to our Architect race to help me hide the Seed once I reincarnated into this world.”
“Ahh, that makes sense. It makes sense.” Nemneseia nodded. “You could have asked me for help, you know? I would most likely give you a hand.”
Yusciel finally cast her eyes away from the Seed as she sent a glare to Nemneseia. “You… The bodies you make are too inconspicuous when I’m on—”
“But I can also make stealthier types,” Nemneseia interrupted, making Yusciel’s glare sharpen. “I’m not a genius for nothing, after all. Oh, but I have to ask, how long does it take for your body to reach full maturity as an adult Architect?”
“50 years old… About 13 more years… No, wait,” Yusciel paused, “I mean, 17 more years. Time moves differently compared to our Universal time.”
Nemneseia nodded, a smile dancing on her lips. After completing her inspections, Yusciel pressed the Seed into her stomach, feeling it resist, but with her slow and persistent strength, she managed to swallow it.
Returning her attention back to Nemneseia, Yusciel took a deep breath before speaking, “Are you truly just a figment of my imagination? Or… Are you truly Nemneseia I once knew?”
“But I perished, did I not? Have you forgotten that you were the first to end a fellow kin?” Nemneseia’s cryptic smile made it challenging to discern whether she was expressing joy or sorrow.
Yusciel averted her gaze, her voice trembling, “Y-you were the one who suggested it… You were the one who proposed that I harvest you—you were the first volunteer to test the Seed’s efficacy, and—” Yusciel paused her words.
Agape mouth as she continued in thought, ‘I hated you.’
“I suppose so,” Nemneseia nonchalantly replied, smiling. “Why don’t you build the Tegrin device to inspect me if I am truly an illusion or a soul projected from the seed? You're an Architect, building is as easy as snapping.”
Yusciel grimaced, standing up from the bed and walking over to the window, unable to face Nemneseia. “You know, I currently don't have enough materials to construct something like that… and what’s more… The Gods of this realm would become suspicious of my activities. I can’t allow that to happen.”
She peered through the curtains and observed the ship entering the large hanger that opened from below, slowly descending. “Please, do not appear anymore. I know what I am doing.”