[https://i.imgur.com/OXE6t3B.png]The sun’s rays peeked through the curtain of grey clouds that dimmed the intensity of its lights with its cries. Their tears contained a sheen that reflected the colours of dawn, creating an illusion of paint falling from the sky.
“Hi! Good afternoon!” the rays of light pierced through the blanket of rain and into the mist-coated windows of a bus, illuminating the face of a middle-aged woman whose eyes lit up at the sight of a familiar face.
“Oh my god, what a coincidence! How have you been?” nude-coloured lips arched into a smile in response.
The automated voice spoke out, “The doors are closing—” with five consecutive beeps ringing, “I’ve been good, just now...” drowned out by the conversations of the people seated within the bus.
As the doors shut tightly, an elderly woman seated not far away from the pair shook her miniature umbrella as she held her phone to her ear with a gummy smile. “I’m almost there dear, wait for a while longer...” the corners of her wrinkled eyes were soft, and her calloused hands held the phone dear to her.
“How nice…” a girl muttered to herself. She was donned in a simple school uniform and sat at the backseats of the bus, observing the people in front of her.
Just a few seats across from her sat a young man holding an exquisitely wrapped box with a red ribbon on its center. His knee bounced up and down in place, fingers tapping rhythmically on the box with a barely suppressed lopsided smile on his dimpled cheeks.
The seats across from beside him held two young girls huddled together. They, too, were adorned in school uniforms. They huddled together shoulder-to-shoulder as they spoke in hushed whispers with one girl pointing at the screen of her phone to get the other’s attention.
“Hey, have you heard…?” the girl at the back could barely make out their conversation, but her attention on them didn’t last long due to the sensation of her phone vibrating in her skirt pocket.
She pulled it out and when she saw the contact’s name, a wry smile formed on her face as she hesitantly tapped on the red decline button. She scrolled through her notifications before releasing a heavy sigh from her cracked lips.
Five missed calls from ‘Dad<3’.
‘I’ll deal with this later...’ she thought, leaning her head on the window pane as she watched the rain trickle down its misty surface.
“Maybe if you would just listen to me for once—!” “I ALWAYS listen to you! You don’t understand anything,” she closed her eyes when an unpleasant memory from last night resurfaced into her mind.
She set her phone to ‘Silent Mode’ before leaving it buried once again inside her pocket.
She rubbed her stomach as it growled in complaints of the lack of food. ‘Perhaps I left the house too early, I should have grabbed something to eat before I boarded the bus.’
She zipped open the bag laying on her lap, rummaging through its contents to grab her bottle of water to at least placate some of her hunger. Her ears perked at a conversation as she screwed the cap off, “It’s getting worse...” another hushed voice spoke up, “Do you think we’re safe?”
Her eyes wandered off to the pair of school girls a few seats in front of her. As she placed the rim of the bottle on her lips, she tilted her head slightly backwards and cool liquid began to surge down her throat, clearing her mind of thoughts. But as she slowly digested the conversation between the girls, a memory of the news she saw on television came to mind.
“...Eight were reported dead and the rest of the five people are still in critical condition, their future state is uncertain…The victims were identified to be regular residents of the neighborhood with no connection to any of the people related to the cause this terrorist group is protesting against...”
Her grip on the bottle tightened, the sound of plastic crunching under her fingers caught the attention of a few people.
“...It is no coincidence that other roads were also completely sealed off from both the inside and outside during this incident, preventing any external help as the victim count as well as death toll slowly increased…”
Her line of sight shifted to the abundance of men and women stationed outside the road tunnel the bus was entering. They all possessed pistols lodged into their belts alongside walkie talkies; they were suited in dark blue uniforms and tall black boots that failed to lose their shine even as they were drenched under the pouring rain. They each held a rifle in their hands.
“For what reason is this group going to such extreme lengths of protest?”
Darkness engulfed the bus as soon as it entered, some occasional orange lights passing by; the vehicle was barely illuminated by the dim underground lights and the darkness seemed to swallow them whole. Despite that, she could still make out the dark blue silhouettes of the policemen stationed at various positions in the tunnel.
“Does this not go against their own cause that they are desperately fighting for?”
BOOM!
A deafening explosion alongside a loud crash a few metres in front of the bus resounded within the tunnel. The screams released by the people within the bus were suppressed as the land quaked while everyone desperately held onto something tightly; her fingers had completely crushed the body of plastic within its grip, spilling water all over her uniform as she held onto the grab pole beside her. The driver had stepped on the brakes at the same time, bringing the bus to a screeching halt.
She could see tiny debris falling from the tunnel ceiling despite her shaky vision, and not long after, she could hear ear-piercing gunshots echoing from the distance.
“W-what? What was that!?”
“What’s happening!?”
“Is it the terrorists!?”
Amidst the panicking people who rushed towards the doors of the bus, she could make out the appearance of a large tanker truck blocking the path of the bus. It had toppled over and was releasing a large amount of black liquid from the obvious crack in its oil tank.
A young man, after trying to pry open the doors in futile, shouted, “The-the doors are locked! Driver—!?”
BANG!
Everyone was silenced as each and every pair of eyes darted to the source of the sound. There stood the driver of the bus with a gun in his hand. A bullet hole could be seen on the ceiling and slowly, he pointed the gun at the people who weren’t seated and ordered them with a calm voice, “Go back to your seats.”
They stood there, dumbfounded by the sudden turn in events. The driver peered, his lips forming a small frown as his body shook, “I said…”
“GET BACK TO YOUR SEATS!” he shouted as he took a step forward and shoved the gun closer to their direction. The sight of his finger being dangerously close to the trigger caused the people to scramble to their seats.
She watched as the young man clutched the gift tighter in his embrace, sweat glistening on his forehead as he lowered his head.
She watched as the middle-aged woman ushered the elderly woman who was holding the fabric on her chest with a tight grip, her wrinkled hands trembled as she took in erratic breaths. Another woman also held her arm, her lower lids were red and held tears ready to spill out.
She watched as the two school girls hugged each other tightly, shakily whispering comforting words to each other as they sobbed and choked on their voices.
She watched as the others prayed, some of them softly begging for mercy.
She felt her throat tighten as she held her bag closer to herself, lips pursing. She slowly reached for her pocket…
“If I see any suspicious movements,” Her shoulders jumped at the driver’s voice.
BANG!
“AHHH!!!” the two school girls shrieked as the seat in front of them erupted with wool from the bullet’s impact. A woman hiccuped as a man cried out with a soft voice, “Oh gods please… Please...”
“This will happen.” He said.
Her movements had already paused but she felt the driver’s gaze linger on her for a while. She stiffly gripped her skirt at the location where her phone was located and she could feel tears slipping from the corners of her eyes and sliding down her cheeks. Those tears felt like boiling water, burning her already distorted face as her eyebrows tightly furrowed at the sensation.
They burned with her regrets.
When she found out that the driver was no longer looking at her, she bit her lower lip as she contemplated; weighing the pros and cons.
She wanted to send her father a last message.
As time passed excruciatingly slowly, she felt that the battlefield that had been raging in the distance would not stop any time soon and decided to make a heavy decision. As discreetly as possible, she slid her hand in her pocket at a snail’s pace. Her eyes constantly darted between the driver and her actions.
Her heart wildly thumped against her chest, and her heartbeat filled the space in her ears with the sound of beating drums as she felt herself holding her breath. She was so close, she had already gotten a hold of it, now if only she could pull it out—
Their eyes met.
BANG!
Thud!
“Oh my god!” the middle-aged woman said with panic interlaced in her tone.
The elderly woman beside her had dropped her cane which had collided with the metal grab pole next to her seat, causing a loud noise to echo and divert the driver’s attention. Her body had collapsed to the floor and the woman hurriedly supported her.
“She’s hyperventilating!” at those words, another woman quickly went through her bag’s contents to take out a paper bag.
When she saw the driver look away, she hurriedly took her phone out and hid it behind the figure of the seat in front of her. Guilt flooded her entire being as she released a shaky breath.
‘I’m sorry, but thank you…’ she thought.
As the two middle-aged women assisted the elderly woman, she lowered her head and had her shoulders shake in an attempt to imitate the action of crying before tapping on the messenger application on her phone. Her forefinger landed on a contact named: ‘Dad<3’
She typed in a short phrase and sent it.
She pursed her lips with glistening eyes, cheeks puffing as she typed in —
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“FOR FREEDOM!” the driver’s voice resonated within everyone’s ears, causing her head to bolt up and look at him.
He was saluting.
His posture and sudden words confused her, pushing her into a daze. But when she finally realized what was happening when she looked through the front window of the bus, it was already too late.
The flood of oil from the tanker truck had ignited into flames and then—
BOOM!
The bus was forcefully flipped upwards from the explosive impact and she felt her head violently throw itself against her seat as her body was blown away together with the bus. The tunnel shook alongside the events and more debris came crashing down upon the flying, flaming vehicle; its metal surfaces burnt thoroughly. The flames from the ignition had already seeped into the bus, embracing every one of its passengers in a coat of fire. Fragments of sharp glass flew from the broken window panes, smoke and embers embraced the bus-shaped graveyard and the occupants within.
The flames penetrated her skin’s defense, burning the flesh within. The impact was so strong she felt something in her left arm snap as it was forced into an impossible angle, losing all sense of touch within it; only a dull, numbing pain was left behind. She couldn’t even scream in agony as the smoke she inhaled from gasping searingly clogged her throat and windpipe. Her body sustained wounds from the glass shards—with some of them being deeply embedded into her limbs. The embers imprinted itself upon her, cutting off her visual and olfactory senses as they nestled into her eyes and entered from her nose to her lungs.
In that one instance, the world fell in slow motion for the girl. The life within her eyes flickered as she thought, ‘I didn’t get to say goodbye...’
CRASH!
The bus and the bodies within landed back on land and flipped, twisted, turned—as if it was performing a show of deadly gymnastics—and slid harshly against the concrete road like ragdolls before coming to a stop.
The gunshots in the distance had long been gone since the explosion, instead, the wails of sirens occupied the ruined tunnel as it steadily approached the aftermath. The scene was illuminated by flashing red lights alternating with blue, and the silence mocked. It mocked the soldiers who were once in the battlefield, it mocked their heroic cause.
Because they failed to save the people they were supposed to protect.
A phone laid dormant near the scene, its heavily cracked screen facing upwards. The screen occasionally glitched while being on the verge of blacking out, showing the contents of an untyped message:
“HISS—” A sharp inhale froze the tension within the small room.
A bead of water slid down a thin strand of white hair before inevitably plunging down onto a white porcelain surface with a Plink!
The story of a girl had finished playing, from the moment she was born to the moment of her death when she was caught up in a terrorist’s plan. From the events of her childhood to the conflict with her father. From the leisure ride to school, to the airborne bus that had been covered in flames and soot.
Her life played like a movie; like scenes showcased in a theatre.
A pair of aquamarine irises held dilated pupils whose stare bore through the glass surface of the mirror in front of them, reflecting the odd state of the pair of eyes that seemed focused yet unfocused—as evident by the pupils that constantly alternated between dilating and shrinking.
As if hit by a sudden revelation, the pupils had fully shrunk; the eyes had widened. Its owner lifted a hand with skin so pale it nearly appeared to be glowing beneath the ceiling light. Long, slender fingers that were equally as pale—with soft pink hues on the knuckles—trembled as they traced the jawline.
Somewhere, a thread snapped.
Bang!
A hand slammed its palm against the surface of the mirror, thumb desperately swiping at the reflection’s face as if it were dust that could simply be wiped off. The mirror showed an unsightly expression belonging to the face of a young girl whose long, damp hair cascaded past her thin shoulders into soft curls; it looked reminiscent of the freshly fallen snow atop a mountain’s peak. The girl’s eyebrows and long eyelashes were of a similar white.
A hoarse voice spoke, “W-what…?”
“Who—” Due to the girl’s haste, phlegm was accidentally caught up in her throat, inciting her to cough.
She immediately brought her free hand to cover her pink lips as her aquamarine eyes never brought its gaze away from the mirror’s reflection.
“That’s...Not me…!” she exclaimed between coughs.
A pang of pain began to ache in her left shoulder as her chest heaved and her body violently shook, causing her to huddle her limbs closer to herself. Her coughs worsened to the point she gagged. The more her body reacted, the more she felt a numbing pain all across her body; parts of her felt like they were cut, but when she looked at the source, all she was met with was the sight of clear pale skin. She felt like something was suffocating her lungs, but that too turned out to be an illusion when she became conscious of it.
‘Painful!’ her fingers clutching the porcelain sink tightened.
Assimilation Process has begun.
She stiffened at the sudden Beep! resounding in her ears. A small, two-dimensional black box engraved with crimson letters appeared at the center of her vision.
A calming sedative has been injected into the host to dispel the illusions of pain in consideration of this being the host's first experience.
When she read the last word of the sentence, her mind was plunged with an eerie sense of tranquility as the sensations across her body suddenly vanished like magic.
She lifted her hand from her gaping lips, the wheels in her head that were originally stuck began to turn and she registered the meaning of the words engraved on the surreal box that never left her peripherals no matter where she looked. But before she could utter a word, her head was assaulted with a myriad of images, imitating a projector that played scenes before her eyes like an old film. The sheer amount caused her to feel feverish as each scene dissipated as soon as it appeared, yet strangely, they carved themselves into her head creating memories she never had.
Because those memories belonged to someone that wasn’t herself.
Assimilation Process completed.
The sentence on the black box transitioned to different words with a motion that made it appear as if it was written by someone when the last ‘memory’ dissipated. The white-haired girl whispered to herself. “I am… Lily—”
“NO!” she shouted as she gained clarity from her predicament, head cooling down.
“That—This isn’t me!” the light reflected in her eyes shined a bit brighter, like a gleam of hope—desperation even.
Albeit still delirious, she possessed more awareness than her previous states—she was sure of it. She isn’t Lily, she never was.
Her lips quivered at the thought.
‘This body isn’t mine...’ she held the sides of her arms as she inspected herself, finally realizing her nude state. Her breaths quickened, ‘I’m not who I used to be!’
‘I SHOULD HAVE DIED—!’
The host is currently possessing the body of 17 year old 'Lily'.
The black box beeped to catch the girl’s attention. The meaning of its words brought her to abruptly stop breathing for a second, and with a dark face, she shakily asked. “What the fuck are you?”
She had a vague idea of its identity. But contrary to her past belief of being pleasantly surprised and possibly excited about it, she found herself unable to think of an idea; a plan for her next course of actions and how she would feel about it, her thoughts jumbled. The uncertainty for the future—for everything—brought her to feel as if she was forcefully shoved into a void of abysmal darkness; a place where every step was uncertain as she didn’t know what to look for or where to go, with nothing to rely on. She was exposed to everything, while she herself could not see what was beyond the darkness. The only thing that accompanied her was the fear creeping up from the depths and grabbing her heart with a vice-like grip.
I am a [System] assigned to the host to assist in completing missions.
“Hah...” she scoffed, looking like she just heard a terrible joke.
‘Shit.’ With her speculation confirmed, the uncertainty only began to grow. On a positive note, at least she had something she could utilize.
She bit her lower lip, “You said I was possessing ‘Lily’...”
To clarify, the host's soul is occupying the body named 'Lily' with the System's help after the host's original body had perished.
She knew. She already knew it. But having something, if not someone else, tell her the truth of the matter struck her into a state of perpetual guilt.
Her eyes glistened, her lower eyelids were red and heavy, “Why me…?”
Both the host and ‘Lily’ are girls, both are 17 years old, both perished at the same time, and the host’s soul is the nearest out of the other 97,568,430 souls nearby.
The system has thus evaluated the host to be the most compatible.
Her teeth nashed against each other, “So you forced—!”
The host has needless concerns. 'Lily' is not dead and what the host believes to be theft, is false.
Her eyes widened, “What?” and the blood that was originally surging to her head in a frantic manner halted. Her fingers had stopped trying to dig itself into the porcelain sink.
Without the proper conditions needed to hold another consciousness, two souls cannot co-exist within a single vessel. The souls of both the host and ‘Lily’ have therefore merged to occupy the host’s current body.
‘So… I didn’t kill Lily?’ discreetly, a tiny drop of water dripped from the corner of her eye.
‘I didn’t… Forcefully assume her identity?’ her nose soured.
‘I didn’t… Forcefully take everything she had?’ the face reflected on the mirror distorted.
When she recalled how the system had told her that she and Lily had perished at the same time, she immediately took a closer look at Lily’s body. She remained oblivious to the disappearance of the black box.
On the girl’s neck lay two large hand prints that looked fresh, dyeing the pale skin on her neck with a contrasting dark purple. Her fingers traced the prints.
“Lily...” she muttered.
‘So she and I are the same.’
‘I am Lily, and Lily is me.’ she thought, closing her eyes. An invisible weight was pushed off her shoulders as they felt lighter.
“Still… It would’ve been better if I had remained dead.” Her selfish thoughts spilled, to which she shook her head.
“It’s a bit difficult to fully accept that Lily and I have merged.”
‘Wait...’ her eyes snapped open. ‘Why…?’ she ran her hands through her hair, pulling at her roots.
‘Why can’t I remember!?’
Beep!
The black box reappeared.
Answering the host, memories are stored into four parts of the human brain. Experiences are heavily carved into the soul but memories cannot be retained as upon death, only the soul crosses and not the body.
This also explains why you inherited Lily’s memories. However, if the host wishes to, the system can retrieve the memories from the host’s original body despite its irreparable state.
“Please do… I can’t afford to lose those memories, not now or any time soon.” She rubbed her temples.
‘I may be a fool for being attached to my previous life, but you can’t just easily forget about everything that’s made you who you are.’ She sighed.
‘For now, I’ll be Lily. But forever, I’ll be… Elaine Fortesque.’ She whispered to herself as she felt a dump of information overload her brain, causing another feverish state.
Sensing the host's adapted state. [Time] will now resume.
Host must take note that [Time] will no longer be frozen upon the moment of Crossing unless the situation is dire. This will be the only instance in consideration of the host’s first experience and mental state.
The host need not speak your thoughts out loud, the system is tailored for the host’s needs and desires and will naturally know what the host expects.
She didn’t notice it until it was said by the system, but it turned out that she had already adapted to the bizarre situation she was thrust into after her death. She had also realized that previously, she had subconsciously wished to not see the system in order to inspect Lily’s—no, her body, causing the black box to turn invisible. It was only when she willed it to, did it appear once again.
‘Yeah, I figured.’ She gave the system a wry smile when she thought of how it had answered all her unspoken questions.
The uncertainty hadn't been dispelled, but for now, she was calm.
Because she wasn’t alone.
She didn’t have the thought to do so before, but now that she scanned the room she stood fully bare in, she discovered that despite the modern essence in the mirror and the porcelain sink, the ambience of the room gave off a fantastical and slightly medieval feel. The walls and flooring were made of marble, the mirror’s frame had a coat of glimmering gold—possessing intricate details consisting of flower petals and stems branching off into different directions.
Nearby was a makeshift tub hollowed into the ground filled to the brim with clear water, its surface gently held the heads of floating lilies. The miniscule amount of mist and steam that occupied the room indicated that the large bath had gone cold.
Splat.
When she took a step forward, she felt something slimy stuck to the heel of her foot—a sensation that brought the hairs on her body to stand. Before she could look down at the culprit, “You.” A voice encased in ice spoke from a distance behind her.
Turning around, her gaze met with a pair of deep brown eyes that held a dark glint. Her inky hair was tied into an elegant bun held together by a hairstick. A small beauty mark was evident on the left side of her lower lip. She wore a fur-collared cloak that draped around her shoulders in a lazy yet charming manner, its dark red fabric was embroidered with white plum blossoms. In her hand was a tobacco pipe that she swirled around as if she was holding a glass of wine.
“You’re alive?” a thin, sharp eyebrow perked at Lily as she spoke in a drawl.
Welcome host, to the [Novel World]: “The War Goddess”
[https://i.imgur.com/m5gjOeN.png]
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