Mind aware yet unafraid, baby blue irises glared at the marble ceiling above her. Her impulse became to sit up and prepare for a fight.
Warding over her were four armoured personnel that donned large, geometric helmets that covered their eyes. These helmets, stormy grey with turquoise accents, had obvious disparities between the units. They each boasted a number on them, embedded into their chest plates.
93 was one with a larger helmet, a blue optical attachment noticeable even through blurred windows. Visible parts of the face included both remaining orifices. With 93, a tight aluminium sheet concealed both. “Does she remember much?” asked a Chinese voice.
81 wore a bandolier over their chest plate. It was silver and contained the red shells for a gun they holstered. “Easy, commander.” Their voice sounded more English than Welsh.
“Do the calculations once more. If she remembers, she’ll fight back.” A third one - 73 - spoke up with a sense of impatience. They sounded American, akin to a New York migrant. There were no defining features relating to their armour.
The last one, 22. They did not have a head. They spoke in fluent English, but an obvious Russian accent protruded from their voice. It was 23 who raised up a small black pen and pointed it in her eyes. It powered up in a blaze.
Only then did she remember everything. She had realised her fate; doomed to lose her recollection of this past day.
Everything she had ever known was a lie.
“I will not do this again.” She threw a punch, but to no avail; it went straight through their head. Whether she wanted it, she knew what was coming to her; an acceptance filled her empty void.
“Good morning, Mira!” A young woman, rosy cheeks and an ombre rose bun, spoke up, gentle gaze caressing the woman ahead. Under the covers laid a confused and somewhat drowsy commander.
“Morning Felicity; whatever’s cooking smells nice.” Felicity scoffed at Mira’s choice of words, but she found no proof that Mira had meant it.
“Do you care more for the pancakes than you care for me?” Sunken baby blue eyes peeled themselves from the view they stared at, looking in Felicity’s general direction. Messy blonde strands flew out from every direction; Mira did not look elegant.
Only one thing she said in response. “Of course not!” She was unaware of what had transpired.
ns 15.158.61.48da2
