Tired. So tired.
It felt like she had been walking for eternity—through a dark, desolate tunnel. Her legs dragged, her breath shallow, but she kept moving. Why?
A light.
A small speck of light far, far away.
Her throat burned—dry, raw, and desperate.
Water.
She needed water. Maybe… maybe at the end of this tunnel, she could drink. Just one sip.
So she walked.
And walked.
And walked.
She didn't know how long—days? Months? Maybe years. Or centuries.
She didn't care.
Water.
That thought alone kept her alive.
The light grew larger. Brighter. Almost there…
And then, she was bathed in it—pure, white light.
Finally.
Military Base – Infirmary
She opened her eyes, and soft, sterile light greeted her.
For a moment, she didn't move. Her lashes fluttered against the glare. Her limbs felt heavy, her mind clouded.
'Where… am I?'
The room looked clean, almost like a hotel—but she could tell this wasn't one. There was a slow, steady beep… beep… beep… to her left. She turned her head with effort—it felt like lifting a boulder.
Machines. Tubes. Monitors.
She was hooked up to them.
'Hospital…? I… survived?'
She blinked slowly. Her throat felt like it was made of sandpaper.
"W-wa…ter…"
The word barely made it out. It scraped against her throat, dry and broken. Her lips cracked further, and her voice disappeared into a whisper.
No one was there.
She waited. Eyes drooping. A battle just to stay awake.
Finally, the door opened. A nurse walked in, then gasped.
"You're awake!"
She rushed forward and pressed a button. Emergency alert. Her hands moved quickly to check Xu Xiyan's vitals.
"How do you feel?"
"Wa… ter…"
The nurse nodded. "Alright, child. Wait a moment."
The door opened again. This time, four people entered—one older man, followed by three younger ones. All in white lab coats.
Doctors.
"Hello," said the older man, approaching. "I'm Dr. Tang. Can you hear me? How are you feeling?"
The nurse glanced up. "She asked for water."
"Good sign. Let her sip through a straw if she can. If not, ice chips."
They worked efficiently, examining her condition as the nurse left.
She returned moments later with a paper cup and a straw.
Xu Xiyan tried, but her lips were too weak. Her mouth trembled. It took her three tries before she could sip. The moment water touched her tongue—
Relief.
Heavenly, cooling relief down her throat.
Her eyes stung. She blinked rapidly, unwilling to let tears fall over something as stupid as water.
But it felt like a miracle.
Dr. Tang knelt beside her.
"Do you know your name?"
Xu Xiyan opened her mouth. She was about to answer—but then, memory surged like a crashing wave.
Her family.
The screams.
The blood.
The fire.
Her heart rate spiked, machine beeping faster.
The doctors froze, glancing at each other.
She looked to her side and saw a few strands of her own black hair resting on the pillow. Something so mundane… yet it made everything feel more real.
Dr. Tang's voice was calm, reassuring. "It's alright. Try to breathe. Are you in pain?"
She didn't respond.
Dr. Tang exchanged a look with the nurse, who gave a quick nod and left the room.
When she returned, she was not alone.
Behind her walked a man dressed in a sharply pressed military uniform. He looked to be in his fifties, but there was strength in his posture. His presence filled the room.
General Yan.
His aura was stern—battle-hardened, commanding—but his eyes softened when they met Xu Xiyan's.
He saw it immediately.
This child had witnessed things no child ever should.
Dark, quiet eyes. Haunted.
The machine beeped faster.
"She's going into stress response," one of the doctors whispered.
But General Yan didn't speak. He simply watched. A soldier's gaze—measuring, but not unkind.
Xu Xiyan blinked up at him.
Then her eyes fluttered closed.
The beeping steadied, slowed.
She slipped back into the dark.