aeyawright

She doesn’t know who she is. But the world knows what she’s worth.

A woman with no memories awakens in the heart of a war-torn city, with only a name—Liora—and a relentless government force hunting her down. When a rogue faction known as the Clan rescues her, she is thrust into a conflict she doesn’t understand, surrounded by people who see her as either a threat, a tool, or a mystery waiting to be solved.

But as Liora begins piecing together fragments of her past, one thing becomes clear: the government wants her back at any cost. And the more she uncovers, the more she realizes that some truths are more dangerous than being left in the dark.

Because in this war, identity is a weapon. And she may be the deadliest one of all.

Codename: Blue Rose

A dull ache pounded at the base of Myst's skull as she stirred, the cold, sterile air biting against her skin. Rough hands dragged her forward, her boots scuffing against the sleek floor. The faint hum of machinery buzzed in her ears, distant voices echoing down the metallic corridors.

Her head dropped slightly, and through the haze clouding her vision, she caught glimpses of the facility—dim overhead lights casting sharp shadows, sleek containment chambers lining the walls, flickering data screens displaying incoherent lines of code.

A familiar presence moved beside her. Nyx.

Her breath came in shallow bursts as she forced herself to focus. His grip on her arm was firm, but not brutal. He led her through the corridor, his posture rigid, his face unreadable.

"You gonna throw me in a cage?" she rasped, her voice hoarse but sharp. "Or am I just another experiment now?"

Nyx didn't answer. He kept walking, his jaw tight and his eyes forward. The indifference in his silence burned more than any answer he could've given her.

Myst let out a short, bitter laugh. "No clever remarks? No 'should've seen this coming, Myst'? C'mon, Nyx, don't leave me hanging."

Still, nothing. Only the sound of their footsteps against the polished floor.

Her gaze flickered around them, noting the other figures in the corridor. The Ascended. They moved with chilling precision, their cybernetic enhancements gleaming under the harsh lighting.

One passed by, pausing just long enough to glance at her with cool detachment before continuing on. Myst suppressed a shudder.

"They're gonna tear me apart, aren't they?" she said, more to herself than him. "Pick apart whatever makes me different. Whatever makes me... me."

Nyx's fingers twitched at her arm—so slight she almost missed it. But he didn't stop walking.

Myst clenched her teeth. "You don't have to do this."

He finally spoke, with voice low and distant. "As I said, it's already done."

A door slid open ahead of them. Nyx guided her inside, leading her to a chair in the center of the dimly lit room. He hesitated—only for a second—before securing the restraints around her wrists. His hands weren't as steady as they should have been.

Myst leaned in slightly, voice dropping to something almost teasing, almost cruel. "You can't even look at me, can you?"

Nyx's gaze flickered to hers for just a moment, something unreadable flashing across his face, then it was gone. He stepped back, his mask of indifference slipping back into place.

The door hissed shut behind him, leaving Myst alone in the sterile glow of the chamber.

Her chest rose and fell in steady breaths, but beneath it, her mind raced. She had to figure out what came next. Because whatever they had planned for her, she sure as hell wouldn't let it happen without a fight.

Her jaw clenched as her heart pounded. She needed to know more. Why had they taken her? What did they plan to do? And most of all—was there a way out?

She shifted in her restraints, testing the limits. Before she could do more, another figure stepped into the room.

Taller. Broader. Their movements precise, calculated. One of the Ascended. Their suit gleamed under the artificial light, and the faint glow of cybernetic enhancements traced their arms and jawline. Their presence sent a chill down Myst's spine.

"She's awake," the Ascended operative noted, their voice metallic, distorted by a vocal modulator. "Good. We'll begin soon."

The Ascended operative tilted their head slightly, observing Myst with unsettling patience. "Don't bother trying to escape," they said smoothly. "You're exactly where you're meant to be, Blue Rose."

Myst swallowed hard, but her glare didn't waver. She wasn't going to let them see her fear. Even if, for the first time in a long while, she felt it creeping in.

Whatever was coming next—she wasn't ready.

DISASTER