My eyes snap open. No, it'd be safe to say they were always in such a position, at least from the perspective of this world. They lock onto the girl in front of me.
Anna, her eyes are soft—
Nausea quickly surfaces from the recesses of my body, barreling up my throat. My fingers curl, and a shiver runs across my body. My neck feels immense pressure, the urge to scratch it banging against my brain.
I throw my hands against my mouth, covering it.
"Huh? Axel?"
She asks.
I inch away. The urge to vomit is overpowering. It isn't like I just vomit for dramatic flair. I literally cannot adjust to the trauma. No matter how many times I die, I experience the same pain upon waking up.
Yet, my body is perfectly fine.
I barrel toward the window, nearly tripping in the process. Anna watches, her face a combination of confusion and surprise.
I quickly lift the glass upwards and hurl. The liquid practically spurts out of my mouth as I plummet to the world below. My throat burns with bile.
A hand presses against my back.
"Axel, what happened?!" She asks.
I glance in her direction. My body still maintains the same pose, albeit my eyes twist in the other direction. I feel pressure from every direction. My thoughts race faster than any sports car, zooming into my brain.
I grab at my head, calming the ideas in my brain to run away screaming.
"They came…the thoughts came back…"
"About what?" Anna asks, concerned.
"The attack… The one that caused me to lose my memories…"
"Lose your memories-?!"
I 'gag' once again, and practically throw myself over the window.
"Please…" I say. "Let me alone… I need time to process the situation."
"Oh… all right."
The sound of footsteps follows her words. After a few moments, the door shuts closed, wrapping up the sequence of events. I sigh.
Glancing around for something to wipe my mouth, my eyes set on a blue box of tissues. I lift myself off the windowsill and walk over to it. My hands practically sway at my sides, a sense of exhaustion present in my body.
No, my body is perfectly fine. It's my mind that's being affected.
If I could describe returning to life, it'd be akin to riding a rollercoaster full of boiling hot stones. At some point, the roller coaster would crash, nausea and the stones scattering everywhere. I can feel everything as I soar in the air: The stones pressing against my skin, the metal shrapnel scratching against my body.
And as I soar, I land in the 'next' timeline. But it isn't instantaneous by any means whatsoever. I'm still reeling, rolling across the ground, waiting for gravity to allow me to set in place. That 'rolling' or 'recoil' is what I'm currently experiencing.
The vomiting, nausea, and terror.
Damn it, I forgot this feeling. Whenever I'm sent to Aza's dimension, these things don't happen, so now that I'm in the waking world, I've started to suffer the consequences of dying.
As I wipe my mouth with a tissue, I go over what I had just done. My intense, labored breaths slowly stall to a normal state.
Despite being in a state of shock, I've managed to continue the narrative of my 'memory loss'. DD sent me back to the checkpoint it set, evident by the glowing skull on the floor. Said checkpoint was set right before I lied about memory loss.
I've still achieved that result, albeit a bit sloppy. Though I think me literally throwing up convinced her more than any verbal lies. She'll probably come in later or something, so I should be prepared.
I need to hold whatever relationships I have here with utmost care.
I glance at the helmet on the table next to me. This is the standard issue for all Forctyr officers. It's imposing, while still managing to retain that regal aspect that Asgard possesses.
My memories travel back to my death as I sit down on the bed.
So, I was killed by Scout. Judging by the blurry images of him reeling his arm back and the bow in his hand, it's safe to say I received an arrow to the….
I scratch at my throat.
I received an arrow straight to the jugular. But that's not the issue. While I bear some resentment towards him, I can't ultimately blame him. Though the question of why he immediately resorted to ending my life instead of capturing me reverberates in my head.
Anyway, It's what led to my death that's got me interested.
Litwich grabbed Scout's attention when I was with the elf, heading down to the cafeteria. Prior to that, I told Anna that I lost my memory. Of course, that meant that Anna had told Litwich about my memory loss. Litwich clearly has animosity toward me, and because of that, he's more prone to suspecting me over others.
I know why he hates me.
I've got to make a mental note pertaining to this suspicion.
I put my finger in my mouth, chewing at its fingernails.
Next, onto Scout. Scout was never suspicious of me. However, once Litwich convinced him to do whatever it was that he did to me, Scout's demeanor switched instantly.
I recall something brushing over my head before the incident. Scout had something invisible in his hand whenever he conducted his…spell. Also, when he was reeling back his bow to fire at me, I recall seeing nothing in place of where an arrow should be…
This might be a gross estimation on my part, but I have reason to believe that the invisible object was an arrow of some kind. After all, two invisible anomalies would lead to the conclusion that they must either be the same thing or something incredibly similar to one another.
Now, the elephant in the room: Scout's calling of my real name and identity.
Of course, anyone would conclude that he got into my head. After all, how would he manage to figure out something so personal? What's got me thinking is how he managed to read my mind. More specifically, what condition did he have to fulfill to cast the spell?
Judging by his demeanor when he was initially doing the task, Scout seemed disinterested, only doing it because Litwich would not stop bothering him. This means that the cast wasn't that particularly hard or taxing.
Actually. I think I know what condition Scout needs to fulfill. Or what he already gave up.
Also, I can potentially use his disinterest to my advantage.
Well, if the events play out the same.
I glance out the window.
It's still daytime, and I've yet to engage in conversation with Anna, which would have taken about an hour. After that, I'd take a nap, and the events would take place.
A knock on the door soon follows after my thoughts, prompting me to glance in the direction. It's slow, methodical, as if the person on the other side of the door is aware of the situation within the room.
"You can come in," I say, still sitting down.
The door slowly opens, revealing the same girl as before, Anna. Her ginger hair is tied in a long braid that drapes over her shoulder. Her bright green eyes reflect her state of mind at the moment.
"I don't mean to intrude, but I just wanted to check up on you, Axel."
For a moment, I turn behind me and face the sun.
It's nearly halfway done, just a bit lower than when I had this conversation with Anna in the previous loop. I need to keep this conversation shorter while still letting time pass its natural course. Time is sensitive.
I won't defy fate. I'll play into its games.
"I'm good now," I say, leaning back in the seat.
"...Is it true?" She begins, her voice no louder than a whisper. It's clear her eyes are searching for something within my own, but cannot find it.
"My memory loss?"
She nods.
"Yes, it is. To be honest, I can't remember a single thing about you. No matter how closely I analyze the contours of your face."
Anna glances downwards, clenching her fist and biting her lip. As always, she's visibly alarmed by the revelation. She wants to deny it—I can tell-–but she knows that I, no, Axel, was attacked outside of Asgard.
I play up my cards and place my hand in my chest.
"But somehow, it's as if… a part of me recognizes that we were once friends," I say, smiling.
Anna's eyes light up.
"We were. We were the closest of friends." She paces around the room, her mood a bit uplifted at the lie I just told.
Really, it's amazing how much you can control someone's demeanor with a mere set of false words. Perhaps that's why lies are so detested.
Morally, they are reprehensible. Logically, they oppose logic.
A crude, chaotic amalgamation of speech that treads on both 'peripherals.'
Lies. Lies.
"It's funny, really. When you helped me out, I spent most of my life wondering about how I'd repay you if we ever crossed paths once again. But now…"
She shakes her head, the negative thoughts shedding off. "Even then. Even if you won't remember. I'll repay them, I promise."
"I'm sure if the previous Axel were here, he'd thank you. So in his place, thank you very much." I smile.
"Hey! Don't speak like you're dead or something! You're right in front–"
"Gh!"
"?!"
I suddenly grip my head and stagger forwards, as if in immense pain.
The sun is in the same position as the previous Worldline, when I took a nap. If I don't initiate that event as close as I can to the original, all my planning and deducing will be for naught. The events of this world will change.
"Axel?!"
I place my hand in front of Anna, not allowing her to get any closer.
"I'm all right. I just need to sleep. I feel exhausted."
Anna hesitantly steps backward. Her hand is clearly outstretched towards me, but ultimately drops to her side.
"All right. Just let me know if you need anything, Axel. If you feel hungry, dinner will be served at the cafeteria in about two hours."
Boom. She said the line. I'm right on time.
As Anna walks out of the room, I fight the urge to smile right then and there. But I can't yet; the hardest part isn't even close to starting. Only after that can I smile.
My body leans backward as I collapse onto the bed. Despite already taking a nap in the previous Worldline, the tiredness is still palpable in my bones.
I like this.
I like this reality.
I'm free of others' constraints, free to operate on my own terms. I can freely do whatever I wish to do, whenever I want to do. Of course, I've got rules over me, but I'm more or less on my own.
I've only got Aza, and that's what matters.
____________________________________________________________________________
The collective of footsteps and chatter filled the hallway of the Forctyr living quarters. It was about dinner time, evident by the lack of light outside the window. Today, meat was almost exclusively given out. Such items were dense in protein, which contributed to a large number of Forctyr enjoying meat.
On usual days, stew, soup, or vegetables were given. But today was different, given that it was the end of the week. As a result, the menu was changed.
Scout walked down the hallway, his form moving against the sea of other Forctyr that headed in the opposite direction, where the Cafeteria lay. At this moment, Scout found it prudent to notify Axel Freud, the transfer, to join the rest of them for dinner,
In all honesty, he felt bad for the boy. He seemed around his age and had lost his memory and his friends. Well, according to Anna. Scout was not sure why there was no prior statement pertaining to Axel's memory loss hours ago, but judging by Anna's strange demeanor, he felt obligated to believe her.
Scout turned the corner, his gaze focusing in front of him.
Actually, there was no gaze. Scout was actually blind. He possessed depth perception, but could not see colors or details along structures or people. A better way to describe it was that he could only view the world as a collection of lines.
This, in fact, affected his ability to gaze as a Severer.
"Hey, Scout!" A voice called out.
Scout inched his head in the direction of the voice. Being a member of the Aos race, he possessed larger, more jagged ears. This, in turn, allowed him to hear much better.
The familiar form of a man with spiked hair and a large sword on his back registered in Scout's mind.
"What is it, Litwich?"
"Where ya heading?"
"To Axel Freud's room. He might not be aware that it is currently dinner at the moment, given that his room's Jotnar-chime is not functional at the moment."
Litwich crosses his arms.
"Have ya heard?"
"About what?"
"His so-called memory loss."
"Litwich, why are you saying it like that? Do you believe he's fabricated it?"
"... Scout. Don't ya think it's weird that 'ta old man didn't tell us 'bout that before he arrived?"
"Well, he was also unaware that all of Axel's squad mates were killed in an attack prior."
Litwich shakes his head.
"Look, the anticipation is really 'killin me. Can ya just use Auge to read his mind? Yer the best person to ask."
Scout sighs.
"I do not suspect him, but you have helped me in the past, so I suppose I am indebted to you, Litwich."
Litwich smirks.
For a moment, Scout lingers in the same position, observing the boy.
"Why do you dislike him so, Litwich?"
"There's no reason. He's just suspicious."
"I see."
__________________________________________________________________
"Forctyr officers have been mysteriously vanishing lately. Such events usually occur in the left wing of the city, but it is still a risk. Our specific branch has been tasked with investigating it, but recently a member of ours had disappeared. I believe we will return to the standard issue of business by tomorrow, however."
Scout said as he and Axel walked. Something was a bit strange, however. It was nothing something Scout could say out loud, but it definitely chewed on him slightly.
Was Axel's hair always this short? Or was he bald? Scout could not recall.
As the two conversed, Litwich came into view, leaning against the wall and having his arms crossed.
"Litwich? Shouldn't you be heading to the cafeteria?" Scout asks. He did recall Litwich asking him to use Auger on Axel, but did not expect him to linger around.
"Scout. C'mere for a second." Litwich waves over.
______________________________________________________________________
I smile.
________________________________________________________________________
"What is it?" Axel asks, walking over to Scout. The search would be quick and efficient. After all, while Litwich suspected him, Scout did not as much. If Auger failed or Scout grew tired, he would give up fast.
Scout simply believed Anna too strongly to grow the seeds of suspicion in his heart against Axel.
"Do not worry, Litwich will not stop bothering me to do this to you. I am not hurting you at all." Scout sighs.
An 'existence' manifests in Scout's left hand. An invisible existence known as an Arrow Of Auger, Scout's Severant. Just as Scout could not perceive the world, none could perceive the arrow.
He lifted his hand, and placed it onto Axel's head.
Scout focused.
Steel. Metal. Iron. Hardness. Rust. Strength. Strength. Those words rung repeatedly in Scout's mind as his Auger 'downloaded' his target's mind. Strange.
Wait.
"Axel," Litwich says, his voice dripping with venom.
"?"
"Take your helmet off."
"?!" Scout reels.
Auger possessed the ability to 'read' both animate and inanimate objects. Because of this 'reading' of the metal within the helmet Axel wore, Scout's output dropped to 65 percent.
Axel removed his helmet, revealing a hair tuft with slightly spiked hair. However, Scout could not fully read Axel's 'form'. Still, he chose to continue 'reading'.
Scout noted that Axel did not particularly fear, nor question anything that was occurring at this moment. This further incentivized Scout's distaste for Litwich's suspicion.
Once again, Scout placed the invisible arrow on Axel's head, which brushed past the individual hairs on the white-haired boy's scalp. Still, at no point did Axel show any indicator of discomfort.
Scout focused.
….
….
Orthrus. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. Fangs.
Those were the words that ostentatiously repeated in Scout's mind. Such violent mind reads were commonplace to the man; as a working field agent, he often served as a 'truth reader' of sorts when interrogating criminals.
However, the sheer lack of detail in the mind he was reading led Scout to come to a conclusion:
Axel had truly lost his memories.
Holding back the sadness welling up, Scout placed his hand on Axel's shoulder. The boy in question held slight confusion on his face, wondering why Scout seemed empathetic.
"I am sorry, Axel. I never meant to pry."
"Hah? It's fine, but I'm not sure what just happened." He said, scratching the back of his head as he chuckled.
"I read your mind. But surely you can understand, correct? You are someone from the outside, joining Asgard's defensive force in the midst of a multitude of attempted assaults on the city."
Quickly stopping himself from justifying his wrongful actions, Scout shook his head.
"But I see now. You are truly someone who lost their memory." He placed his hand on his chest. "And Litwich and I have cleared our suspicions of you."
"Right, Litwich?"
Scout turns, attempting to meet the same resolution as his partner.
Litwich scoffs before walking off.
The long-haired man sighs before turning to Axel, who remained in the same position from the start.
"I apologize on his behalf. Litwich may come off as rude and belligerent, but he is truly a good person. I merely assume he sees you as a threat to those he cares about."
Axel nods.
"It's completely fine. I can understand where he's coming from."
"I am glad. I will speak with Litwich, and perhaps we may be able to mend this rift between you two."
Axel nods.
__________________________________________________________________________
I won.
First off, I knew that Scout is blind. His eyes are completely white, and they have this strange stillness to them. Someone that isn't blind would constantly be observing their surroundings. I suspect that he may have given up his sight for his Function.
I walk down the hallway, following behind Scout, whose steps are methodical.
Secondly, the helmet. By wearing a helmet, I blocked off a majority of Scout's 'mind reading'. It was more or less a hypothesis on my half, but it worked. He clearly did not want to expend any energy reading my mind, and was only doing it because of Litwich's incessant grumbling. By spending half of the energy—that he already didn't want to use in the first place—his output would drop significantly, which would seriously affect the next part of my plan.
Thirdly, Scout doesn't 'read memories'. He reads whatever your mind is thinking at the moment. The reason why he found out about my identity in the previous Worldline was that I had the thought of being caught repeating in my head. Being caught pertains to my true identity being exposed. So because of that, Scout found me out.
Because of that, using the combination of his energy being spent, as well as my invisibility to him — given that he didn't know me that well—I forced myself to recall the memories of being killed by the Orthrus. No, not killed, but attacked.
I forced my brain to think in short bursts, the feeling of death tainting my mind as he read my mind.
It was hard, but I managed to convince him that I truly was attacked by an Orthrus and lost my memories. I could not add anything about other Forctyr casualties, but I'm sure he'll chalk it up to me just not remembering my teammates.
As I walk, a small grin forms on my face.
I can't hold it.
I must smile.
Whether it's because of this feeling of controlling my 'identity' or the feeling of triumph, I cannot tell.
All I can say is…
Boom.