Chapter 2
Unknown
Present time
He sweeps me into his arms and I squeal with laughter, leaning into his touch.
I feel light in his presence, so very happy and contented, as if the world stops spinning every time we’re together.
All my worries fade away and I simply live in the present, just him and me, together.
He whispers to me, words of love and adoration, and I soak them up and store them deep inside my heart.
His strong arms are tight around me, a promise, protecting me from all that might trouble this moment.
I kiss the side of his neck, a place where I know he is particularly sensitive, and he laughs, a grumbling sound that intertwines with my own joyful laughter perfectly.
Time stops. This is for us. Just us. Our time.
Our life. We belong together. I am his. He is mine.
Thought sparked into existence, a tiny flame barely illuminating the all-encompassing darkness. I knew that I was asleep, just about, but that’s all I knew. My mind was sluggish, bumping against corners that shouldn’t exist.
Who am I?
The question floated up, hazy and insistent. I reached for it, but it slipped through my fingers like smoke.
I fought to wake. Not fully, not yet, but enough to peel back the fog. My body felt distant – heavy and unreachable. My thoughts were dull and slow, dragging through molasses. This wasn’t natural. This wasn’t right.
It should’ve been easy. Wake up, start the day. But there was no day. No light. Just darkness and the soft echo of a self I couldn’t remember.
I should have a name. A life. Memories. Something. But whenever I reached for them, I found only emptiness.
The flame of lucid thought was flickering more strongly as more questions rose to the surface. Why can’t I remember? Where has everything gone?
Still, I pressed on. I became aware of my body, little by little. Limbs like lead, a mouth too dry to swallow, eyelids glued shut. But I was here. I existed. I felt.
Time lost meaning. Seconds stretched like years. Or maybe it was years.
The darkness didn’t become any brighter, but my awareness expanded a little further every time I was conscious enough to notice.
I was lying on something cold and hard. Even though I couldn’t remember what my own bed felt like – assuming that I owned a bed – I was quite sure that this wasn’t a mattress.
A table, maybe. Using that realisation as an anchor, I tried to remember how I may have come to lie on a table. Nothing. My memories remained blank.
But the table was real and I held onto that. I was real.
Then pain.
Sharp and sudden, a jab in my wrist. I would have cried out if I’d had the strength. Heat bloomed through me like wildfire, licking up my arm and down my spine, flooding every nerve. Sweat erupted on my skin.
I gasped, or tried to. My chest heaved and my heart kicked harder, fighting the burn.
And something shifted. The fog cracked. The numbness thinned.
I wanted to live.
That simple truth blazed inside me, brighter than any memory.
I wanted to wake.
I wasn’t ready yet. But I was closer.
Closer to answers.
Closer to freedom.
Closer to whoever had whispered to me in the dark.
My eyes snapped open.
Light poured in – sharp, sterile, white. I flinched and immediately regretted it. Pain stabbed behind my eyes and my stomach flipped with nausea. Everything hurt. Muscles I didn’t remember having clenched in protest.
I groaned. The sound was hoarse, ragged, as if my throat had forgotten how to make noise. My mouth was dry and my tongue felt thick.
I tried to sit up. Failed. Tried again. This time I managed a shaky elbow and dragged myself into a half-reclined position. I blinked against the brightness, squinting at my surroundings.
The space around me was dimly lit, with blinking lights somewhere in the distance, but it was enough to see that I was in a metal box. A coffin?
Panic rose, swift and sharp.
I was trapped.
Above my face was a round piece of glass, giving me a view of a high ceiling full of pipes, cables and lights. It made me think of a factory, or maybe the engine room of a ship.
The future didn't look too good. My past was shrouded in fog.
All I had was the present. And in the present moment, I wanted to panic.
I didn't know how I was clinging on to rational thought.
This was a situation where anyone would go crazy with anxiety, right?
The fact that I didn't told me something about myself: I was used to dealing with difficult situations.
Or maybe I was simply brave, ridiculously brave.
Either way, I was glad that I was clear-headed enough to focus.
First step, gather more information. I felt along the edges of my coffin as far as I could reach, searching for any sort of button, indentation, lever – or anything that would tell me something about my prison.
I didn't find anything beyond a few well-soldered rivets. Most of the coffin's interior was smooth, without hinges or an obvious lid. I didn't even know how this thing would open. It had to open. Right?
I pressed my face against the glass, trying to get a view of what was next to me.
The room was in semi-darkness, but I could just about make out the top of a silver, curved metal ovoid next to me.
I bet that's what my coffin looked like from the outside.
That meant I might not be alone. And if they were awake too, they might have more information. Maybe they didn't lose their memory.
A beep sounded and the coffin shook. A click echoed through the small space.
Could I be so lucky?
With agonizing effort, I pushed the coffin’s lid open. It lifted slowly, assisted by a quiet hiss of hydraulics. Cold air rushed in. I sat up all the way, swaying slightly, and planted my feet on the floor.
Running my hands down my body to search my trouser pockets, another revelation hit me. I was naked. I wasn’t even wearing underwear. I shivered even though I wasn’t cold. I felt exposed, vulnerable. Clothes wouldn’t protect me from whatever was waiting for me.
What was I supposed to do now?
I stood. Somehow. Legs shaking, knees buckling. I braced a hand against the wall. The floor was cold beneath my bare feet. My skin felt hypersensitive, like every molecule was still waking up.
I looked around the room. None of the other metal coffins were open. Maybe I had been lucky. Or was this luck? An ominous weight settled at the bottom of my stomach. Maybe I should stay in the coffin and pretend to be asleep.
But I spotted a blinking light, next to a narrow panel in the wall. I approached it. My fingers shook as I reached out – and paused.
I was being watched.
I didn’t know how I knew. But the sense crawled over my skin like electricity. Someone was watching me.
I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself. Whoever it was, they hadn’t shown themselves. Yet.
Fine. Let them watch.
I was awake now.
And I would find a way out.
I touched the panel. Nothing happened. The blinking continued. This was not the exit.
My legs carried me around the perimeter of the room. I tested each panel, hoping for a seam, a lock, anything that might resemble a door. The metal was cool and seamless. The hum in the background was steady, almost soothing in a strange way. No voices. No footsteps. No hint of anyone coming.
I paused near a corner and crouched down. The floor was just as featureless up close. But something about the angle felt wrong. There was a slight dip, as if a panel could shift.
I pressed my palm against it. Nothing.
I straightened and scanned the walls again. The blinking panel drew my attention once again. Carefully, I moved back to it and tapped the surface. Then pressed my palm against it.
It flared to life, words scrolling across it in a language I didn’t know. And then, before my eyes, the letters shimmered and reformed. Suddenly, I could read them.
>>Welcome. Remain calm. Assistance will arrive shortly. Remain calm.<<
I didn’t like the repetition. I didn’t know if I’d like the ‘assistance’ that would be sent.
I wasn’t sure how long I stood there, but eventually the screen dimmed again, going back to its passive state. That was fine. I had more questions than answers, but I also had time.
I wasn’t afraid of the quiet anymore.
Let them come.
Whoever they were, I’d be ready.
And maybe, just maybe, someone was out there watching – not to harm me, but to help.
I let myself imagine it for a moment: a figure in the shadows, silent and waiting. A protector. A stranger who didn’t feel like a stranger.
The idea shouldn’t have comforted me.
But it did.
A hiss. A click. The sound of pressurisation releasing.
I spun toward the far wall, where a new panel had begun to slide open with mechanical precision. Bright light spilled in – not sterile white, but gold-tinted and almost warm. A silhouette appeared in the opening, tall and wrong and alien.
I stumbled backward.
The figure stepped into the room.
Five eyes on black fur, a tiny mouth underneath. No nose, not even nostrils. No ears that I could see among the shaggy fur. Limbs extended in unnatural directions, bending at impossible angles. The mouth opened, midnight lips around rows upon rows of tiny sharp teeth.
My breath caught in my throat.
It smiled.
“You’re awake,” it said, voice smooth and serpentine.
And I knew, without needing to remember, that this thing was not here to help.
It was here to break me.
To hurt me.
I didn’t scream. It would have felt like admitting defeat.
Instead, I stood frozen, my bare feet rooted to the cold floor as the creature approached. My heart pounded so loudly I was sure it echoed through the chamber. I tried to breathe slowly, tried to think, but every survival instinct in me screamed: Run. Hide. Fight. Anything but stay still.
The monster didn’t attack. It moved closer with eerie grace, like it had all the time in the world. The fur that covered its long limbs shimmered in the artificial light, thick and dark like a wolf’s coat. Its many eyes blinked in waves, following me even as I tried not to flinch.
It stopped just short of touching distance and tilted its head.
"You’re awake," it said again, as if I hadn’t heard it the first time. Its voice was melodic, unnervingly smooth. Too calm.
I wrapped my arms around myself. “Where am I?”
It smiled. Its mouth was too wide, its teeth too white. “You’re in Kalumbu Station. The most exclusive broadcast node in the outer galaxies.”
I had no idea what that meant. I didn’t care. “Why am I here?”
“To participate.”
“In what?”
It didn’t answer. Instead, it circled me slowly, a predator assessing prey. I turned to keep it in my sight, refusing to show fear even as my stomach knotted.
“You are unique,” it said. “A mystery. No metadata, no tracking tags, no previous broadcasts. Our viewers love a wildcard.”
Viewers.
Broadcasts.
Something cold and slick twisted through my gut.
“You’re watching me?” I asked. “Someone’s watching me?”
“Oh, darling,” it said, pausing just behind me. “Everyone is.”
The chill in my blood wasn’t from the room anymore.
I turned. “I want answers.”
It blinked all five eyes in slow succession. “You’ll get them. In the Trials.”
Another smile. Another wave of nausea in my gut.
“But first, I will take a closer look at you. In my quarters.”
Two other monsters appeared behind it, tall and gooey and creeping-me-the-fuck-out. They bowed their heads in deference to the wolf-monster. It turned without another look, letting its lackeys deal with me.
I was along among monsters.
But there was someone else.
Someone who’d whispered to me in the dark.
And I wasn’t going down without a fight.