New Dawn
Not to be impolite, but could you please elaborate on what you're doing?
The scientist – Doctor – didn't look up from his clipboard. The scratch of his pen was the only answer.
My draft for justice… burned like trash. No trial. No consideration. My voice cracked. They called me 'The Crazy Journalist'! For what? Speaking truth? I leaned forward, chains clanking. Which is crazier, Doctor? Speaking truth… or living a thousand lies?
The fluorescent lights hummed, and the stainless steel gleamed under their glow.
"You..." The cold scientist-doctor said.
He still didn't look at me. His eyes scanned notes – my life was reduced to clinical observations. Why did I keep talking? To ghosts? To the sterile walls?
He stood up, while my hands were still tied to a chair, he came back with a syringe in his hand, with a blueish substance inside.
He sighed.
"It's fascinating that you're this special. So idealistic, even though a lot of people dropped their thoughts after entering this place." He tapped the syringe.
As he injected the syringe into my biceps, it hurt, but I couldn't scream.
My jaw locked. Muscles seized in agonizing contortions – a marionette yanked by a mad puppeteer. My teeth ground, enamel screaming. Sweat, cold as the slab beneath me, sheeted down my face. Vision fractured.
"Is this… torture…" the Doctor mused aloud, observing my convulsions like a botanist studying a rare, writhing plant, "…the path to super-soldiers? Are they…" He paused, a flicker of something almost human – doubt? "…insane?"
Oh, they are… The thought was a shard of clarity in the storm.
"Wh… what did you do?" I forced the words through petrified lips, my body a battlefield of spasms.
"Congratulations, KGB-12." His smile was clinical, devoid of warmth. "Phase One: Neural Catalyst 'Veritas-7'. You facilitate… understanding."
This feels strange, it is as if I was around a plain of green, watching the sun's rays into my eyes. I sat to enjoy the calm nature, the breeze of a gentle wind played with my hair.
And yes, I sat there...with my brother and my sister.
Wake up! A voice with a maniacal laughter inside my head yelled.
I open my eyes, finding myself tied to the chair in the middle of the room. The fluorescent lights hummed, the stainless steel gleamed under their-Wait...have I been through this before?
"Have you given up?" The voice came from behind, and I could see shadows creeping throughout. It's the scientist.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
He picked up a syringe, with a blueish substance inside...no, I'm not wrong. This happened exactly a few minutes ago.
My mind has been traveling everywhere, I should head home...I think Ivan and Alisa are waiting for me...
"Hello Senior!" A familiar voice calls for me, my presence or my name?
I look around to see the same shadows, the one that repeatedly enters my nightmare...What is going on?
"Interesting... you've experienced this before, right?"
You've experienced this before... the voices seem to agree. How many times Mediator?
What do you mean?... Have I forgotten?
Another flash of a million lives, tied to the same place, different action, different reaction... same end. I feel my throat and voice crack, my true self stuck somewhere...
I feel the needle stab my biceps, once... twice... a hundred.
The scientist tapped the table, this is strange... he put down the syringe, not stabbing me and injecting those fluids. A different ending...
"what date is today?"
I don't know...
"do you know this place?"
No.
"Have you forgotten what you did in the past?"
No.
"It seems as if the side effects are applied too much... Has he already experienced this? How many times?"
I shook my head. I said I don't know!
Mediator, have you forgotten? The voices come again, now sounding as if mocking me for a sad reason. Then he laughs. The truth is...You're dead.
"Bury The Carcass!" Ivan yelled, cold smoke covered his face.
Oh, That's right. I'm dead, aren't I?
...
Dawn reached the roof of my house, near the mountain it took a little longer to be shined by the light of day. I underestimated how much longer it would be until I grew up. I realize how long it would take to be sixteen or seventeen years old. I've survived a week in this baby phase. Being a baby with a big head, it's hard to just stand up.
Sixteen to seventeen years, how many sunrises could I see...roughly around 6000 days, and the things that I can do are...
Motor Functions: Pathetic. My head—a boulder of baby fat and unfinished bone—lolled like a broken pendulum. Lifting it felt like bench-pressing a mountain.
Communication: Limited to gurgles, whimpers, and the occasional volcanic spit-up. (My greatest rhetorical achievement so far: soaking Elara's apron during her sermon on burping technique.)
Threat Assessment: Ara, age 5. Her "affection" involved squeezing my cheeks like stress balls and declaring me "squishier than frog guts!"
Luckily, I could still crawl, even though it used more energy than I originally thought. But still, I could actually move around.
My tiny hands grabbed into a chair, trying to get up. I see Father has put a book, anything to entertain me is key...And besides, books are awesome. But this soft but somewhat hard-to-control appearance could stand for a couple of seconds...
As I thought I could climb the chair, it moved away from me. I accidentally moved it, at the time of my falling what should I do to-
Braak! The back of my head thumped against the floor.
The voices, whom I call now The Cynic, began to laugh. Good to be him, at least he has some fun looking at me.
Pathetic! He exclaimed. You survive beatings, Overdose by drugs, Veritas seven, and the delusional new drug they tested. And somehow you were defeated by Gravity?!
Shut the hell up.
I close my eyes, Not against the voice—against the memory.
The weight of an assault rifle pressed to my temple. Ivan's trembling breath frosts the air. That final, merciful cold…
"My oh my..." My mother, Rose, found me lying on the floor. "How did you get here?"
Outside, my father just finished cutting up some logs as fuel. One hour passed, and I stayed in my mother's cradle for that long...static, I couldn't do anything about it.
"Darling!" My father shouted from outside, "Isn't it the time?"
"You're right!"
Huh? What?
My mother brings me and Ara into the city, the place is about a kilometer from home. I still don't know why we're going to the city, because if my mother went shopping why did she bring me and Ara to come with her? Is it for treats? I hope so.
After a while, the city gates closed in. About ten minutes or so this journey takes. After so long, I could finally go out.
This is rather a fantastic sight after having the last year living in those cold, frozen prison cells. The loud noise of horse and carriage scattering around, and people talking and yelling...
"Look Noir! This City is Huge!" Ara yelled with big eyes as big as coins, she's moving here and there.
"Bootes Farmstead. how is it? isn't this beautiful?" my mother guide Ara into a church of some kind.
My mother talked to the sisters there, talking about some kind of ritual...Ah, great, the church... it always has something behind the back door.
What you hate religion? The voice came just to mock me again. Not cool man, Not cool.
There are two locations that I couldn't trust, one is explainable, like the government building. The rotting corruptors there just enjoying cigars. In my past life, they always did that. And for this reason, I hate going to churches as well as those pesky... Honestly, I don't know.
The potential of using magic can be seen from when the baby was born. Ara was a lucky few to have a powerful magic capacity.
Those smile...If Ara were to use that magic to fight, then...
My mom and I waited outside as Ara performed the ritual inside the church; luckily, it only took a few minutes.
Ara came out looking so exhausted; she seemed so pale. her usual smile is instead changed by a face full of despair. I wonder what they do in there? WHAT DID THEY DO TO MY SISTER ARA?!
Calm down... What's gotten into you?
"A...ra?" my throat vibrate, making my sound, my first word
But isn't this too early? Why can I do this? is it because of my past life? Because I can speak, maybe the skill has transferred? Even though this tiny baby Cord has only been developed for seven days.
Rose looked at me straight in my eyes, with a weird look on her face. Does she know? Did my mother hear it?
After my mother ignored it, thinking it was only her imagination, we went home. What a beautiful city. After that 'tour', I also realized that even though I could understand what my mother was saying, the written words, the language. I can't read them.
I should learn to read first then, as fast as possible...
...
I was born at the end of the winter season, and you know what's crazy...If my calculations were right...I was born exactly on February 29th. But lucky or unlucky it entirely depends on your perspective.
Boring days passed by, only repeating the cycle of waking up, crawling around the house, and doing literally anything to pass the time.
Usually, before I go to bed, my mother always tells a story. It wasn't entirely interesting known by the fact that I always fall asleep easily. But it has some pros if I remember correctly. By reading the book exactly like my mother does, I could decipher words into the alphabet and learn.
It is complicated, though, because of the difference between the actual writing and the pronunciation.
I don't know if I always have this, but being a baby somewhat makes memorizing things easier. But I still forget all my agendas throughout the day. Who remembers mundane repeating days anyway?
Days turned to weeks, and weeks turned into months...
Until I realized that a whole year had passed, the memorable thing that happened was the first time I was able to balance my body at 6 months old, also the time when Ara had her sixth birthday.
After that, because my family didn't hear what I said when entering the city, at one and a half in the middle of June, my family had bets on what I would say to be my first word.
"It's Mama, right?"
"No, it's probably papa"
My mother stares at me silently for a whole two minutes... I gulped.
"Ma...ma."
I could have talked a while back, but I kept it a secret. I'm so relaxed that I can finally say things now.
"It's not fair!" My father exclaimed. "Ara's first word is also mama, why can't Papa be the first?"
My mother smiled, Ara looked at me like I was a talking doll or something, something filled those eyes.
And to answer those questions, Father...The "m" sound (bilabial nasal consonant) is very easy to produce: babies simply close their lips and make the sound through their nose when feeding or crying. The vowel /a/ is also the most natural sound.
"Ma-ma" is often the first sound combination uttered spontaneously.
You don't have to flex that...there's only me.
And short enough, I learned how to write at one and a half, when my hand could grab stuff. No need for reading, that skill was fully learned at the dawn of my first birthday anniversary. While mostly I read about some fairytales that guide Ara to sleep. But I learned other crazy facts about this world...
It's a fact that almost 65% of the world's population is illiterate.
My mother thought I was gifted, and Ara also couldn't read. My mother said she learned how to read at the age of fifteen. The same goes for her writing.
That is why I have a new routine, teaching Ara to read. This is what a degree in language makes you, firstly get captured by the government because of your idea, and then teaching a six year old to read.
THe news of me teaching how to read spread across the village, this is kinda not what I expected for.
"If The next generation could read, they can go to university and make this villagemuch better." The head of the village insisted.
But, the word starting to grow fast...
I love seeing th children leaarn, even though one thought stays in the back of my mind. Why did my mother just teach Ara? Because she can read, Why must me? But i don't care much of it.
And this skill comes with the payoff of some unwanting visitor
It was when i reached the age of four.
"Greetings, My name is Alkauros Bootes. the Baron of this area." The old man smiled, I don't have a good feeling about this...