"A tent?" I murmured as I gradually awakened, my head pounding and the rhythmic beeping of an old heart monitor filled the air, accompanied by wind buffeting the tarpaulin around me. I surveyed my surroundings inside an old military tent, cluttered with foldable beds and shelves strewn with bottles tipped onto their sides. As I attempted to shift my body to sit up for a clearer view, unease washed over me.
Scanning the tent for any hint of what had happened, I spotted a mirror beside the window. Raising my right arm to shield my eyes from the light, I anticipated seeing my reflection, but instead felt a sharp sting. My eyes fell on my arms, which were swathed in bloody bandages.
"What the hell?!?" I cursed, realizing the raspy voice spilling from my lips was not my own.
I struggled to steady my breath, the heartbeat monitor's beeping cutting through my thoughts, while the pain surged beneath my level gaze in the mirror. The reflection showed a young girl, seemingly between fifteen and seventeen, with shoulder-length hair in a chaotic blend of black and blonde. Her upper body was nearly entirely wrapped in bandages, and she wore worn sweatpants.
"Either I'm dreaming vividly or I've transmigrated," I muttered, forcing my legs to cooperate. As I attempted to stand, a sharp pain radiated from my left arm, where I glimpsed the needle from the IV drip. Gently removing it and pressing on the insertion point, I rose unsteadily to my feet, taking a hesitant step before almost toppling back onto the bed. However, I pressed on toward the sealed entrance of the tent.
"What is out there?" I wondered, drawing the zipper down before stepping outside. Before me sprawled a disordered village of military tents, car trailers, and semi-trailers, ringed by a makeshift fence amid the arid expanse. The only figures in sight were clad in weathered biker jackets and frayed jeans, wielding heavy weaponry. Some tents and trailers bore a menacing flock of black ravens, their wings spread and eyes a vivid crimson, encircling a small globe.
"Why does this remind me of the Aldecaldos camp from Cyberpunk but only on a bigger scale?" I murmured just as I caught a flicker of movement from the tent to the right of the hospital tent I had just left.
Emerging was a yawning, middle-aged brunette woman, her neck adorned with visible cybernetic implants peeking from beneath her tank top. Clad in jeans and combat boots, with a gleaming chrome arm, she rushed towards me and enveloped me in a warm embrace. "Are you okay? Do you feel any pain?" she asked, her words flowing in English—somehow clearer to me than ever before.
"Forgive me, ma'am, but who are you, and where exactly am I?" I replied, confusion lacing my voice as I gently eased the woman aside.
Her eyes reflected confusion and fleeting sadness before she steadied herself to reply. "You are in the Ravens camp, and I am your grandmother. You have a mother, an elder sister, and two younger sisters—everyone in the clan is your family. But first, you must return to the tent; you need to rest."
Quietly absorbing her words, I followed her back to the tent and toward the bed. "I'm sorry, but I can't recall a single person."
Her eyes shimmered with a blue light as she settled into the chair beside me. "What is your name, and what is mine?" I inquired, hoping my question wouldn't be received poorly.
"My name is Cathrin Black, though most folks prefer to call me Granny. Yours is Kassandra Knight," she responded faintly, her voice tinged with sorrow.
Before I could ask another question, two girls, likely twins in matching one-piece dresses, burst through the entrance and dashed to the bed. They leaped onto the mattress, embracing me tightly as tears streamed down their faces. A wave of guilt washed over me, and after a brief moment of hesitation, I had to wrap my arms around them in return.
"I'm sorry, but I'm not your sister." No sooner had the words escaped my lips than the twins ceased their cries, gazing at me with tear-streaked, sorrowful eyes.
"Kassy has partial amnesia, which means she can't recall anything from before her accident, yet she still remembers how to speak. It'd be best if you both introduced yourselves to her," Cathrin explained to the twins.
With an air of melancholy, they regarded me; the one with golden locks spoke first. "I am Lyra Knight," she said, gesturing to her sister with dark hair, "and this is my sister, Lyenne."
The silence grew increasingly uncomfortable until a young woman with fiery red hair—strikingly reminiscent of Cathrin and the twins—entered the tent. Clad in a blue shirt, dark pants, and sneakers, she rushed to the bed, enveloping me and the twins in a warm embrace. "I'm so glad you're awake and okay. I'm Jessica, your mother. I regret to inform you that your older sister isn't here; she's on a mission in San Francisco and won't return for some time. Granny has already informed me of your amnesia. It doesn't matter that you can't remember anything right now—what's important is that we can create new memories together. Regardless, you are family."
Her words rendered me speechless, bringing warmth blooming within me, tinged with guilt. Finally, I managed to ask, "I apologize for prying, but what kind of accident did I have?"
Jessica shook her head, her gaze sorrowful as her eyes lingered on the twins. Silence settled again in the tent. "It's getting late. Kassandra needs to rest. Jessica, please put the twins in their tent," Cathrin ordered, her tone leaving no room for arguments.
As they exited and I was left alone with Cathrin, she spoke: "Two weeks ago, you were attacked by a group of mercenaries on your way back to the camp. They left you half dead on the roadside, a bullet lodged in your eye, and took everything you had, including your bike. Michael found you and brought you back; he's one of our supply runners."
"Why would mercs target me for a robbery?" I asked, bewildered, before the realization hit me. "How do you know they were mercs?"
"When they left, Michael saw them but couldn't discern anything beyond that they were mercs. We remain in the dark regarding their reasons for the attack. We'll discover the truth, but first, let me examine your wounds to ensure they don't reopen." Cathrin got up and retrieved scissors, a bottle of medicine gel, and a roll of fresh bandage from the shelf. Returning to my side, she grasped my arm and began to cut.
As she tended to my bandage, I inquired, "How much longer must I remain in bed?"
After finishing, she replied, "You should be able to move without pain by tomorrow morning. Now rest, and we'll talk again then." With that, she exited the tent, gently closing the entrance behind her. A wave of drowsiness washed over me, and I soon drifted off into sleep.
(Dream Start)
I walked drunkenly down the road to my home, hearing a man's angry screams on the wind. "How many times do I have to clean up your mess!?" Not wanting to get involved, I quickened my pace.
Turning left at a crossroad, I saw a skeleton in a dark robe with a scythe on its back struggling to push a damaged mid-sized truck that stood in the street. "Why do you always drive over the people on your list while they're at home? Now you can't even move your mortal body anymore," the skeleton complained.
The legendary Truck-Kun honked defiantly at Death, as if to say, "What can I do? It's in my nature." "Did I really drink this much?" I wondered as Death seemed to notice my presence.
"You have two choices: die by my hand and be damned for eternity because you saw us, or help and have a chance at heaven," Death said.
"Y-Y-Yes, I will help you. How can I help?" I stammered. "Pretty simple: put the towing cable on him and pull while I push," Death ordered, producing a towing cable out of nowhere.
Quickly complying, I ran to the front, attaching the cable and pulling with all my strength until Truck-Kun began to move. As speed increased, I heard the grinding of gears as Truck-Kun's motor roared to life. Suddenly, I felt no weight on the cable, and turning around, I came face to face with the truck's front before everything went dark.
(Dream End)
The next day, I awoke from that strange dream, propping myself up and glancing around. My gaze fell on a pile of clothes draped over a chair. As I sat up, I realized the pain in my arms had vanished. Rising from the bed, I dressed myself in worn dark jeans, dark socks, scuffed gray combat boots, and my black biker jacket adorned with the clan emblem on the back.
Just as I finished changing, the entrance swung open, and Cathrin stepped in. "Good morning, Kassy. Could you please come with me for one last checkup?" she asked, extending her hand toward me. I paused briefly before taking her hand, allowing her to guide me outside. Shielding my eyes from the sunlight, I noticed a greater number of people than the day before. We walked along the designated path winding between the tents, heading towards one of the semi-trailers topped with two shipping containers, greeted by nearly everyone we passed.
Cathrin pressed a button, and the door emitted a sound reminiscent of air being extracted. She must have seen my startled expression, as she smiled and remarked, "Yes, it's an airlock. We need to keep sand out of wounds and medical equipment."
Inside the clinic, to my right gleamed chrome shelves, and between them stood an operation chair with something resembling claws on the underside.
"Go on. It doesn't bite," Cathrin joked, her laughter easing my nerves. I quickly shed my jacket and settled into the surprisingly comfortable chair.
From my vantage point, I watched her detach her chrome hand and don a ripper arm, slipping a glove onto her other hand. The chair began to scan my body, a red beam of light sweeping over me.
"Let's get this over with," Cathrin said as she approached the chair, adjusted its height slightly, and peeled away the remaining bandages. Her eyes shimmered for a moment. "You shouldn't feel any pain now, but if something still aches, just let me know, sweetie," she instructed, turning away to tend to her arm.
"Do I have some kind of cyberware that I should be aware of?" I asked, shrugging into my jacket once more.
"Aside from a personal link, an internal phone, one eye implant, and a cyberdeck? Nothing much. Do you know how to customize your HUD? If not, I can send you the guide," she offered as she stepped closer.
"No, I don't," I said, shaking my head. "Come with me; I'll show you your camper. I'll send the guide to your laptop. Afterwards, the twins will likely take you on a tour of the camp," she said, leading me back outside.
Stepping outside, she turned left as we strolled toward the camp's periphery and paused before a light gray camper. "This was… is your camper. It's open, so you might want to get acquainted with it," Cathrin said somberly before walking away.
Opening the door, I was immediately greeted by laundry falling outside. Rushing inside amidst laughter from the watchmen, I noticed the interior was minimalistic yet surprisingly tidy, save for the floor. Most original furniture had been stripped away for a larger bed, shower, toilet, sink, and a small table with a laptop and a bottle of water.
I resolved to postpone cleaning the floor indefinitely. Settling into the corner near the table, I lifted the drink to my lips. Thankfully, there was no password needed—either I hadn't done anything with it or someone had removed it.
As I checked the inbox, I found only a barrage of spam alongside the guide nestled within. I opened it, beginning the painstaking process of configuring my HUD, realizing it took longer than I expected.
"March 2068… 2068 why does the year gnaw at me so?" I muttered before exclaiming, "The Unification War… didn't it kick off in 2069? Shit, just ten months until all hell breaks loose. Shit!! …Breathe. Worrying won't change a damn thing, so why not take a stroll around the camp?"
Stepping away from the camper, I glanced back at the clinic before making my way to the camp's center, where a radio tower proudly stood. Along the path, clan members greeted me with laughter and conversation, some engrossed in tasks of repairing cars, crafting weapons, and setting up tents.
"How does it appear from up there?" I wondered as I continued my walk.
Reaching the radio tower was swift. Gazing up, I noticed its reinforced ladders, showing signs of recent activity. Unable to suppress my curiosity, I approached the first ladder and began my ascent. Notifications pinged on my HUD as I climbed.
Before I could examine the notifications, I received a call from someone labeled Thomas. "Hey Kassy, it's Tom. Glad to see you back on your feet! Since you're up by the radio tower, could you check the distributor boxes on your way up? The wind might have dislodged some cables, so if you could reconnect them and secure the boxes, that would be great. Thanks!"
As soon as the call ended, another notification pinged, distinctly different from the previous ones. No matter how extensively I searched, I couldn't pinpoint the app responsible for these alerts. Undeterred, I pressed on and checked the first two boxes along my ascent. Both were closed, and the cables were arranged identically in each case. After capturing a photo of the second box, I climbed higher. At the top of the ladder, I discovered a platform encircling the peak; the final box awaited on the opposite side. Approaching, I noticed it ajar, with loose and untethered cables inside.
After fixing the cables and securing the box, I leaped aside as the metal screeched beneath me. Rising back up, I glanced down to discover the floor beneath the box had tumbled down the tower. "Well, that could have gone a bit smoother," I murmured, gazing down to the camp.
Shaking my head, I leaned against the railing, observing the scene below: the chaotic nomad camp sprawled beneath me, the seemingly endless desert dunes, the distant mountains, the ruins of forsaken towns, barely discernible roads linking it all, and the evening sun hanging low on the horizon.
"This is what it means to be a nomad: free, with a family that will always be there for you, even when you sometimes don't want it or don't know you need it," came Cathrin's voice from behind me.
"How did you make it up here!?" I shouted, leaping in fright. "You gazed out at the landscape for nearly ten minutes after almost tumbling down the tower; naturally, someone had to check on you. Your mother couldn't make it, as she was busy restraining the twins from dashing up," she chuckled at my fright.
"Let's descend before the twins manage to slip past your mother and come to harm," she urged softly, and we made our way down the tower in silence.
Barely touching down was a middle-aged man with short white hair and wearing old overalls, most likely Thomas. "Thanks for your help; at last, we have a signal again," he said, drawing cheers from a large group of children gathered on the ground before a white canvas affixed to a cargo container, a projector aimed at it, ready to bring their imaginations to life.
"Now, who among you wants to watch the latest episode of the red-haired ninja prankster? Raise your hands!" he announced, and the children—especially the twins, who seemed to have forgotten about me—immediately lifted their hands in eager excitement.
Hopefully not that cake prankster.
Cathrin guided me away from the children, leading me toward what appeared to be an old school bus converted into a food truck. Before it sprawled three rows of tables and benches, occupied by small clusters of people.
"Please go speak with your mother while I fetch us some food," she said before turning toward the counter.
As I approached Jessica and took a seat across from her, she asked, "So, what do you think of the camp and its people?"
"Honestly? I find the people friendly, and the camp—how shall I describe it? Free. Yes, free captures the essence of the feeling here," I replied, earning an amused glance from her.
"Freedom is our ultimate aim, regardless of how bleak the world may seem. It doesn't matter what turmoil rages on the other side of the globe, as long as we stand united as family and friends. At least, that's how I see it," Jessica said, her smile radiating as if she had articulated a universal truth.
"But does it ever really go your way? I mean, with all the corporations trying to micromanage every detail, doesn't that wear you down?" I inquired, curiosity lacing my voice.
"Of course it doesn't, but take a look around—right now is what truly matters, far more than tomorrow or the day after. I am not alone; we share the same goal. We may not always possess everything we desire, but if something is essential and we can't acquire it, we simply 'take it,'" she replied, a chilling smile crossing her lips, reminiscent of a predator eyeing unsuspicious prey.
"Here's the food," Cathrin announced, breaking the awkward silence as she set a tray laden with burgers and five bottles of water on the table. I grabbed one and took a bite, pleasantly surprised at its edibility, especially after watching the others take their bites.
Better than expected. I thought all decent food was gone in this world.
I pondered this as I devoured the first, second, and then the third burger, pausing only for a sip of my drink. Judging by their expressions, it seemed unusual for me to indulge so freely.
"Well, you didn't really eat anything for two weeks except porridge," Cathrin remarked, prompting Jessica to relax a little. "Aren't there perhaps a few too few people present for the number of tents?" I asked aloud.
"Most are still sleeping for the night shift, so right now around one hundred fifty adults and seventy kids are awake. A scout team of a hundred people is also absent, and your sister has three hundred people with her. So, of the eight hundred clan members, you can only see about two hundred here awake at a time. We don't want anyone falling asleep on watch," Jessica explained.
While we were chatting, the twins bounded in, snatching up two burgers and bottles of water before dashing back to the film.
"Do you have any plans for tomorrow?" Cathrin inquired. "If you're uncertain, perhaps you could lend a hand around the camp until you decide. Wade could use assistance with the cars, Hans needs extra hands for the defenses, Yuriko is looking for help connecting the sensors, and Erik requires support with weapons maintenance. Who knows? You might discover something you enjoy in the process."
"Yawn. Why not? I reckon it's time to take my leave. Good night," I said, stifling another yawn. I rose to my feet and made my way to the camper. Once inside, I turned to the laptop and delved into the guide once more.
"Why does every guide always have a hidden second page?" I muttered under my breath as I reached for the folder filled with applications on my HUD. Grabbing the app with the most notifications, my vision abruptly swam as I shifted it within the display.
"Ding… System initializing."
"50 Athletics experience gained. Skill unlocked."
"50 Athletics experience gained."
"Task 'Help Thomas' accepted."
"50 Athletics experience gained."
"50 Dodge experience gained. Skill unlocked."
"50 Engineering experience gained. Skill unlocked."
"Task 'Help Thomas (1 Star)' completed. Reward: 1 Skill Point."
"Completed the first Task. Reward: Skill menu unlocked."
"Task 'Help Wade, Hans, Yuriko, and Erik' accepted."
"Cyberware: Militech Paraline
Basic Kiroshi Optics (left eye)
"Skills: Athletics lvl 0 exp 150/250
Engineering lvl 0 exp 50/250
Dodge lvl 0 exp 50/250"
"Stats: locked Unlock condition:3 skills at level 10."
"Perks: locked Unlock condition:1 skill at level 5."
"Points:1 Skill Point."
"Tasks: 'Help Wade, Hans, Yuriko, and Erik.'"
"Traits: locked Unlock condition: survive months."
"Yes!! Eat that Smasher! …Well, having one is better than nothing, but what kind of system is this? Hopefully, the exp scaling isn't too harsh." I jumped in joy as I read the messages.
"Rome wasn't built in a day. I suppose I'll see what tomorrow brings," I murmured to myself before shedding my jacket and closing the laptop.
With a sigh, I stretched out on the bed and surrendered to sleep.
(Dream Start)
I stood on a small hill, gazing down at the ruins of an ancient castle overgrown with creeping vegetation. Below me, hundreds of warriors from three warring factions clashed violently, all vying for control of a small spring of water. Amidst the chaos, the leaders fought their way through the throng, momentarily frozen in silence as they absorbed the sight of one another, their fallen comrades, and the spring that had ignited their century-old conflict.
The female knight, clad in gleaming armor, held her sword at her side, her expression inscrutable behind the visor of her helmet. The Viking, gripping his two-handed axe tightly with calloused hands, remained still, a frown etched across the bloodied half of his face, fueled by primal rage. The samurai stood poised, his blade sheathed at his waist, one hand lightly resting on the hilt, revealing nothing of his thoughts.
For a fleeting moment, it seemed the carnage might cease, and they could seek a path toward peace. In that breath of hesitation, I drew my bow, nocked an arrow, and let it fly toward the one with the weakest reasoning of the three. The arrow struck the Viking in the chest, embedding itself but hardly penetrating deeply; yet that was enough to ignite his fury. With a roar, he surged toward the others, and the battle raged on.