The APC rumbled through what used to be a road.Now it was only snow, ash, and shadows.
Inside, the air was heavy with exhaustion. The hum of the engines replaced the sirens they'd left behind.Florence sat slouched against the cold steel wall, her hands wrapped around a blanket that smelled faintly of smoke and medicine.
Across from her, Theresa Apocalypse sat in silence — eyes fixed on the shifting white horizon beyond the narrow window. The small golden cross around her neck glinted faintly in the dim light.
"Where are we even going?" Florence asked at last.
"A Schicksal forward base," Theresa replied without looking at her. "South of Babylon. It's a triage point for survivors."
"More labs?" Florence's tone was half a laugh, half a flinch.
"Not this time," Theresa said softly. "No restraints. No experiments."
Florence raised an eyebrow. "Big promises from the people who built Babylon."
Theresa's eyes met hers then — calm, tired, but steady. "I know what Schicksal has done. I also know it's my job to stop it from doing worse."
Florence studied her for a beat, then leaned her head back. "You sound like someone who's lost before."
"I have," Theresa said quietly. "That's why I don't stop."
The convoy jolted to a halt. The door groaned open, spilling in cold air that bit at Florence's lungs.Outside stretched a field of white — tents, vehicles, flickering lights under a dying sky. The base looked more like a scar than a camp.
Theresa gestured for her to follow. "Come on."
Florence hesitated, then stepped down into the snow. Her bare feet sank, heat hissing faintly where skin met frost.A few nearby soldiers turned at the sight of her — the pale-haired girl glowing faintly beneath the rags of a Babylon uniform. Their whispers followed her like shadows.
"Is that…?""They said she was from the labs—""She walked out of the core alive."
Florence ignored them. She'd been watched her whole life. The stares were almost comforting in their predictability.
Inside one of the larger medical tents, warmth and antiseptic wrapped around her like a lie that wanted to be kind.Theresa motioned her to sit on a cot. "You're safe here for now. The doctors will check for residual radiation."
Florence smirked. "They can try, but I don't think I'm their type."
Theresa almost smiled. "Humor's a good sign."
"It's survival."
A medic approached, scanning her with a handheld sensor. The readings fluctuated wildly — Honkai energy spiking, then dropping to zero. The man frowned, adjusted the device, and tried again.Same result.
"She's… clean?" he said uncertainly. "Actually purged?"
Theresa nodded once. "Good. She needs rest, not tests."
The medic hesitated, then saluted and left.
Florence watched him go. "You really do give orders like you mean them."
"I've had practice."
For a while, neither spoke.Outside, snow whispered against the tent.Florence traced the veins of light still faintly glowing under her skin.
Whatever she was, whatever Babylon had made her into — it was still alive in her blood.A gift, or a curse. She couldn't tell.
"Why did you save me?" she asked suddenly.
Theresa looked up, surprised. "Because you needed saving."
"That simple?"
"No," Theresa said. "But it was the right thing to do."
Florence laughed quietly. "You're weird, you know that? Everyone else just wants to measure me."
"Then they've forgotten what being human means."
Florence's smile faded. "Human," she echoed. "I'm not sure that word fits anymore."
"It does," Theresa said. "You just haven't had the chance to decide what kind."
The tent lights flickered as another generator cycled on. Someone shouted orders outside; engines revved.Florence rubbed her hands together, chasing warmth that wouldn't come. She glanced at Theresa.
"So, what now?"
"You rest," Theresa said. "After that… we'll see."
Florence frowned. "You don't have a plan?"
"I do," Theresa said. "But it depends on you."
Florence leaned back against the cot, eyelids heavy. "You sound like you're recruiting me."
Theresa gave a quiet smile. "Maybe I am."
As sleep crept closer, Florence watched the flicker of light through the tent flap. The storm outside was dying, but something deeper lingered — a hum in her veins, faint and patient.A memory she didn't have.A power she didn't understand.
For the first time, the glow beneath her skin pulsed not from instinct, but response — like it was listening.
Theresa noticed but said nothing.
She simply stood, drew the tent flap closed, and whispered to no one in particular,"Cecilia… maybe this was what you meant."