The night in Camp Ash was not quiet. Somewhere in the darkness, monsters stirred, making scraping and rustling sounds, as if the earth itself was trying to sleep, but was plagued by nightmares.
Annalise lay on her cot in the barracks, staring up at the ceiling, where the remnants of glowing lichen covered the rusted metal beams.
Their pale green glow gave her a sense of something alive and unsettling.
The events of the past day whirled around in her head: the system's voice, the monster, the white wax that obeyed her like a part of her body... or like something more.
[Status: Stable. Regeneration active.]
[Internal reserve: 13%]
[Passive effect activation: "Droplet Crystallization" — allows you to create solid wax fragments with blood loss.]
She raised her hand. White wax slowly emerged from the pores, gathering into thin veins on her skin. He was cold... but at the same time, he was a friend. He did not obey completely. It was like he was having a dialogue. Sometimes he froze, as if "thinking."
"Who are you, Annalise?"
She shuddered.
No, it wasn't the voice of the system. It was an internal echo, muffled, as if it had been heard through the walls of a reservoir.
Annalise sat up and slowly, carefully ran her hand over her collarbone. Where the skin used to be, there is now a barely noticeable crack, like a brand. The white wax filled it, leaving a thin line like a scar.
She didn't remember her past. She didn't remember her face or her name before that. All she remembered was waking up and the light.
But there was a sense of familiarity in every movement of the wax, in every movement of her body, as if she had already lived through battles. But not in this body. Not in this flesh.
—Are you awake? — A voice asked from the door.
It was Kal, a young hunter with short dark hair and a homemade headlamp. He was holding a metal box with a blue crystal flashing on it.
— Lyra said you did a good job yesterday. I thought you might be interested in looking at this. — He said, placing the box on the edge of her bed: — It's an echo recording. An old drone fragment. The system captures data fragments on them, and sometimes you can find something useful. Or... forgotten.
Annalise touched the sensor. There was a wheezing sound inside the box, followed by a distorted female voice:
"…model B-09… control is unstable… phase reintegration complete… object 'Anne…'… failure… protocol closure."
She froze.
The name. It was her name.
Kal frowned.
—What? What did you hear?
—My name. There... it was. Someone knew it before I woke up.
Kal sat down next to her.
—So you're not just a 'newcomer.' Perhaps... you're one of them. Those who went through the Merge.
—The Merge?
—It's an old program. They say that at the end of the Old Age, they tried to 'inject' human consciousness into substances. To make soldiers immortal. But almost everyone burned up. Or they lost their minds. If you survived...— He paused: —You might be the key to understanding how to stop the Chimera.
Annalise felt a chill run down her back. The wax on her fingers hardened, as if reacting to her emotions.
—I don't even know who I am. Do you want me to be someone's key?
— No.I want you to understand who you can become. Until someone else decides it for you.
Soon he left, leaving an echo recording.
Annalise lay back down, clutching the box to her chest. There was a restrained fear burning inside her—and a faint spark of desire. Find the answers. Understand your power.
And if it was really created…
She must know why.
***
The morning in the Camp of Ashes began not with the sun—its rays rarely pierced the dense dust in the sky—but with the ringing of metal, the hums of system commands, and the roar of engines.
Annalise stood by the training ground. Her shoulder still ached from yesterday's battle, but there was something in her body that was keeping her up at night: the silence before the storm. It was as if something inside her was waiting. Adjusting.
In the gravel arena stood Instructor Slane, a tall, gray-haired man with one mechanized arm and a scanning grid embedded in his eye.
— A beginner. — He said: — Show me what you've got. Only this time, don't be afraid of the pain.
A training car was activated next to him. The spherical core burst into flames, and three narrow tentacles emerged from it, ending in blunt but heavy hammers. It hissed and spun, making electronic clicks.
[Model: SparBot V.2 | Mode: Pressure | Purpose: to cause media instability.]
Annalise clenched her fist. The white wax flowed down his arm, forming a kind of brass knuckles with sharp patterns. Her breathing quickened.
"I'm ready"— She thought: —I can handle it.
And at the same moment, the car shot forward.
The first blow is to the shoulder.
She put up her shield, and it split. The wax scattered in fragments in the air, but froze and did not fall. He hovered around her like drops of ice.
[Passive effect activation: "Droplet Crystallization". The wax retains its solid shape outside the body for up to 7 seconds.]
Annalise instinctively stretched out her hand, and the drops obeyed, forming a thin blade in the air. She grabbed him and intercepted the second blow — it struck the sword with a thud, causing a spark and a crack in the wax, but did not destroy it.
—Interesting. — Slane muttered, finally looking up.
The car intensified its attack. The tentacles spun faster, coming in at an angle. One of the hammers slammed into Annalise's side — she screamed, flying to the edge of the arena.
Blood. Real. It's warm.
And then something strange happened.
From the open wound, along with the blood, the flowing white wax darkened at the edges, and instead of the usual mass it formed a thin crystalline needle, shining with a dim light.
She didn't realize when she grabbed it—it was a reflex action.
Annalise jumped up, turned around, and threw the needle.
She flashed through the central sensor of the machine.
A moment later, SparBot stopped, and the entire field fell into tense silence.
Slaine stepped closer.
— An unusual adaptation. The wax reacts to the trauma... and uses it. It could be a weapon. Or a curse.
He pointed at her chest.
Annalise looked down, and the skin where the wax had leaked the most was cracked. . And beneath it, as if from within, a symbol was forming—not lettered, but iconic, like a brand. A triangle with a twisted arc in its center.
—What is it? — She whispered.
Slaine narrowed his eyes.
— I'm not sure. But on the old tables, those who had gone through the primary phase of awakening were designated like this. You're starting to have a connection with the wax core. It's... extremely early.
Annalise felt her body tremble. But not from fear, from a premonition.
The system started talking again:
[The hidden parameter has been unlocked: "Resonance Seal — Stage I".]
[The appearance of the Seal accelerates the development of the ability. Overload risk: moderate.]
Slaine looked at her carefully, as if for the first time.
—You're not just a survivor. You're an unstable host. With someone like you, the rules of the hunt will change.
Analysis was breathing heavily. The wax on her skin was trembling, as if it could hear his words.
And deep within her, a voice echoed, not her own:
"You're not the first. But you're the last hope."