Chapter 2

A gift from the lord. Use him well. 

Those written words had made a home in the back of her mind and it would wonder around every second making Akame feel frustrated even more. However, she made sure she would contain her emotions in case the black stallion acts up again due to her wavering feelings.

Akame understands that she is reincarnated and it isn't some sort of after life dream. She knows she died in that facility and somehow woke up here, finding herself in a forest that was supposed to be miles away from HQ and to make sure it was real she slashed a small cut on her arm.

It still bothered her that she was likely not in the 21st century anymore.

It wouldn't take a genius to figure out that they are no longer in the modern days thanks to this horse and this wagon which is definitely something the dark ages would use to travel about because if not than she should have been gifted a car or a motorcycle instead.

The only question is whether it's her world or another.

Clutching her katana, she surveyed her surroundings. Trees, trees, and more trees.

Nothing unfamiliar that she wouldn't recognise in her own time or world.

Just her luck.

She frowned, her brows wrinkling down and her lips twitching in annoyance. Maybe if she would find someone to ask where she was, she might be able to get an idea.

 "Let's go boy" Akame said tugging the reins of the horse and then proceeding to walk off with the horse following beside her.

Then realisation struck her anew—the garments she wore, ragged and brown like a potato sack. Horror etched across her features as she grappled with the absurdity of her attire, an oversight born from the distractions of the unfamiliar environment.

She thought she would have travelled her with her own attire of black combat pants and boots, grey blouse strapped with straps and her oversized black and red gothic style zipper jacket.

Not this peasanty potato sack!

Eager to cast aside the ill-fitting garment that was just a sore to look at and not to mention how it scratched her skin, Akame's gaze shifted to the wagon, a silent hope rising within her that it might hold an alternative to the ugly peasant attire she now wore.

Akame made her way to the other side of the wagon and hopped on. It was a small wagon but just enough for one person to sit tightly amongst the possessions and crates. The soldier first began by opening the brown sack near her. She paused to take a good look at the first item in it.

Clothes!

Yet not just any type of clothes but recognisable ones.

Her eyes laid upon the first clothes that was stacked on top, the top half of a kimono folded neatly inside of the brown material bag. Black material crossed under a white one. Akame's breath caught in her throat as she tentatively reached out to touch the fabric. The smooth texture, the silk fabric, and the distinctive cut evoked echoes of an ancient world she had once known. For a moment, the sprawling unknown lands blurred and, in its place, a realm where cherry blossoms danced in the breeze and the rustle of silk spoke of ancient traditions. Curious, she rummaged under it and to her surprise there were two more, folded neatly under the first.

Kimono like attires ranging from black to white although they were folded neatly, she didn't see the whole outfit but enough to know that these were clothes she can wear instead of this raggedy shit that's on her body.

Confusion flickered in her eyes as she considered the possibility that she might not be in another world she had assumed but maybe she travelled through time, back to ancient Japan.

These clothes may just be another clue to her whereabouts.

As Akame gingerly picked up the attire from the sack, its silk-like fabric unfolded in her hands, revealing a black kimono of exquisite craftsmanship. The entire garment was cloaked in darkness. Yet, amidst the obsidian hues, the front tomoeri emerged in stark contrast—a swath of pristine white that seemed to defy the shadows.

The sleeves were billowy and flimsy. Puffy and generous, they cascaded like midnight clouds, lending an almost ethereal quality to the attire. It led halfway through before it merged into glove-like extensions, leaving her fingers exposed, ready to grasp the hilt of a weapon.

As Akame traced the delicate embroidery on the billowy sleeves, the true nature of the bronze dragons revealed itself—the graceful curves and intricate scales bespoke the unmistakable presence of Chinese dragons. Their sinuous forms, rendered in rich bronze, danced along the edges, intertwining with the fabric like ancient guardians woven into the very essence of the kimono.

As Akame traced the bronze embroidery of the Chinese dragons on her kimono's sleeves, an air of nonchalance enveloped her. The mythical creatures, though intricately detailed and symbolically rich, seemed to elicit from her a subdued reaction—a subtle lift of the eyebrows and a faint, almost imperceptible smile.

It was as if the presence of the dragons on her attire held no great revelation for Akame. Rather, the sight merely confirmed something she had almost expected, a mundane acknowledgment of a connection that felt almost predestined. The dragons, with their elegant bronze scales, were not foreign entities to her; they were, in a sense, old acquaintances, emblematic of a familiarity that transcended the current reality.

She turns to look over to the horse which had first turned to look at her, it's intelligent eyes gazing softly at her as if it was waiting for her to try it on.

"Is this also a gift from your lord?" Akame spoke to the horse with a blunt tone and expression. It didn't respond but continued to stare at her with its enchanting onyx eyes. "It so it seems."

Akame peered into the sack once again. There was another garment that seemed to be a set piece for the attire she was holding.

It resembled a one-piece swimsuit, but with a distinctive twist that set it apart from the swimming attire. The fabric was white but the sides under the underarms were black and had the same bronze dragon on it although the fabric gave the illusion of being constructed from bandages. Despite the appearance, it's not bound strips but a single, seamlessly woven material.

The garment had not straps for the shoulders, instead, it had a form-fitting design that contoured to the body, providing both comfort and flexibility. The absence of shoulder straps accentuates the neckline, adding a touch of modern elegance to it.

The one-piece swimsuit looking clothing had shorts instead of the underwear looking type of the bottom half of the swimsuit.

The soldier looked from the kimono to the other garment. 'Do I wear that under this?' she wondered with a raise of an eyebrow. She let out a defeated sigh. Whatever it was better than this potato sack anyway.

Akame began by carefully taking the clothes of her, shedding it off like a snake shedding it's scaly skin. She was in relief when she saw she was wearing actual black underwear and a black bra, her own ones not some newly made to resemble something from the ancient world. She didn't take one look at the potato sack garment and threw it over her shoulder, landing somewhere on the grass beside the wagon.

Although Akame felt uncomfortable stripping naked in the middle of a forest where someone may stumble upon her, there was not much she can do right now but to quickly change into her new clothes.

Quickly she slipped into the one-piece garment, pinching the edges, and pulling it up to her breasts and wriggled to a fit. She picked up her black kimono like attire.

With a measured breath, Akame stepped into the midnight fabric and slid it up. The billowy sleeves, seemingly eager to embrace her, slid over her arms The billowy sleeves enveloped her arms, and the fingerless gloves found their place, as if guided by a choreography etched in her muscle memory. The tomoeri, a stark contrast of white against the midnight black overlapped each other over her breast.

As she fastened the kimono, the white tomoeri gleamed like a moonlit path, contrasting with the darkness that enveloped her. Looking down to see the long mae-migoro, she didn't realise that there was a slit on the left side of it revealing her slender leg.

Akame stood transformed, the black a visual symphony of strength and contrast. The fingerless gloves awaited the grip of a weapon, and the slit in the mae-migoro whispered of a warrior's journey yet to unfold.

Now she needed shoes.

Akame began a search for shoes in the other sacks and of course she found them. There were pairs of boots all in different styles some had armoured plates on them while others were long that would probably reach her thigh. Akame wondered if each of them matched a kimono like a set piece.

It didn't matter either way, all she needed was to pick up a pair that went with this attire and wear it.

And so, she did but to her surprise inside them was a pair of long thigh high socks, black in colour and had a braided like rope tied around the top, resembling the black, red, and white obijime of her kimono.

'A set piece huh. Another gift from the lord I presume' She thought to herself as she slid her feet in them and soon, she did the same with the boots, putting them and completing her look.

Emboldened by the change in attire, Akame's gaze turned to the black Friesian horse, its eyes reflecting the morning light. The horse, once unsettled by the currents of frustration and rage, now stood as a serene companion, the shared understanding between rider and steed.

The soldier opened her arms as if she was offering a hug and looked into the horse's black eyes with her empty ones. Akame, in her unconventional solitude, addressed the horse as if it could understand her thoughts. "What do you think?" she asked with a flat bored tone, her expression the same, bored, and blank. "Do you like it?" There was a pause, as if awaiting an answer from a creature that, in all likelihood, couldn't offer one.

Yet, in this surreal moment, the horse, with its observant eyes, seemed to share in the silent communion.

As the echoes of her question lingered in the air, Akame's gaze met the horse's, a silent understanding passing between them. It was as if, in this peculiar moment, the bond between warrior and steed transcended the barriers of language, and the horse, with a gentle demeanour, affirmed the union of rider and attire.

An awkward smile crossed her lips. "I guess so".

Akame picked up her katana and jumped down her wagon, completely ignoring the potato sack on the grass.

She secured her katana in her obi of her attire, glancing one look at the Nebula weapon before turning her gaze away from it. "Alright, lets get this shit on the road" she mumbled annoyingly, patting the side of the horse's neck.

"Lets see if we can find us a person or maybe even a village to give us any information about our location."

Embraced by the black kimono and accompanied by the silent acknowledgment of the black Friesian horse, Akame felt a surge of anticipation. With a newfound sense of purpose, she approached her equine companion, the horse's eyes reflecting a quiet understanding.

With a graceful yet decisive movement, Akame ascended the horse's side, fingers lightly grazing the sleek black coat. The horse, accustomed to this silent exchange, stood steady, a willing partner to her journey to this unknown world.

With a subtle shift of weight and a swift motion, Akame settled into the saddle, her attire melding seamlessly with the equestrian stance. The kimono's billowy sleeves, now caught in the breeze, added a touch of ethereal elegance to the tableau.

As she gathered the reins in her hands, Akame looked to the horizon, a realm of possibilities unfurling before them. "Let's go," she whispered to the horse, her words carrying the weight of unspoken adventures.

In response, the Friesian horse, attuned to the unspoken cues, began to move. The rhythmic sound of hooves against the ground echoed in harmony with the whispers of the wind.

As Akame rode through the unknown landscapes, the wooden crates and bags that accompanied her on the wagon remained untouched. Despite the air of mystery surrounding their contents, she paid them little mind, a testament to her focused determination on deciphering the enigma of her current surroundings.

That's all that matters to her right now. Where the hell God had put her.

The wagon trundled along, the rhythmic sounds of hooves and the creaking of wheels forming a backdrop to her contemplation. The crates, silent sentinels of untold secrets, waited patiently, their mysteries obscured by unopened lids.

Akame's gaze, fixed on the horizon, betrayed no hint of concern for the unexplored cargo. Her thoughts were consumed not by the potential necessities within those wooden confines but by the pressing need to unravel the geographical puzzle around her.

In this moment of uncharted exploration, Akame's singular goal was to grasp the nature of her surroundings. The answers within the crates could wait—she had time. For now, her only concern was to unlock the geographical riddle that enveloped her and the black Friesian horse in a cocoon of uncertainty.

The forest through which Akame rode was a symphony of tall, ancient trees with leaves that formed a natural canopy. Sunlight filtered through, dappling the ground in patches of light and shadow. The air was crisp, filled with the earthy fragrance of moss and the gentle rustling of leaves stirred by a light breeze.

As she navigated the winding paths, the forest embraced her in its tranquil aura. The sound of hooves against the soft earth created a rhythmic harmony with the natural melodies of birdsong and the distant murmur of a bubbling brook.

Not long after, the trees began to thin, revealing a gradual transition from the sheltered embrace of the forest to the open expanse beyond. Akame emerged into the daylight, her surroundings transforming into a vast, sunlit landscape.

Grassland, green hills, and the horizon of the sky.

The realization dawned upon her that she might have awakened near the forest's edge.

Before her stretched a dirt road, a thread of man-made passage leading into the horizon. The trees retreated, making way for a broader view that hinted at the promise of answers beyond the woodland sanctuary.

As Akame continued along the dirt road, the rhythmic clip-clop of hooves resonated against the open air. Soon, a figure appeared in the distance, riding towards her on a brown horse. The man, accompanied by a wagon hitched to his horse, seemed to share in the rhythm of her journey.

"People" Akame mumbled hopefully. "I could possibly ask him." she said to the black horse. Like the wind her expression changed into a frown. "If he isn't an ass and decides to help that is" she grumbled under her breath.

With a subtle shift in her path, she guided the black Friesian horse towards the approaching traveller. As they neared each other, the man acknowledged her with a nod, and Akame, with the black kimono billowing in the breeze, decided it was time to seek answers.

"Excuse me sir," she called out, her voice carrying across the expanse. The man reined in his horse, bringing the wagon to a gentle stop.

As Akame approached the man on the dirt road, she took a keen look at him, noting the details that might offer clues to her current whereabouts. Contrary to her black kimono, she observed that she wasn't the only one dressed in attire reflective of another era.

A sudden feeling in her stomach dropped and he tightened the hold of her reins. She may be not in ancient Japan after all.

The man, a figure of modest stature, was adorned in garments reminiscent of the dark ages of Europe. A simple tunic of earthy hues draped his frame, and leather boots adorned his feet, bearing the signs of well-travelled paths. A hooded cloak, its fabric worn by the passage of time, completed his ensemble, suggesting a life lived amidst the unpredictability's of the open road.

His features spoke of resilience and weathered experiences. A tanned complexion hinted at days spent under the sun, and his eyes, though observant, held a warmth that seemed to transcend the language barrier between them.

He didn't look much older than 50, grey hair already being spotted in his facial hair and brown messy brown hair. 

As Akame observed the man's attire and appearance, a realization unfolded within her. The landscape, the attire she wore, and now the clothing of this fellow traveller—all pointed to a world distinct from the one she had known. The geographical and cultural tapestry that greeted her eyes was not that of ancient Japan but a realm coloured by the hues of medieval Europe.

Akame hid her dissatisfaction from him and kept her poke face on.

Despite this revelation, Akame held back from divulging the mystery of her own attire to the man. Instead, she focused on the questions that might illuminate the path ahead. Before delving into her inquiries, she steadied herself with a glance that carried a mixture of apology and detachment.

"Apologies for the intrusion," she stated, her tone devoid of sweetness, an air of cold normalcy settling around her words. She continued with a matter-of-fact demeanour, "I seem to have lost my way and my map. Can you tell me where the nearest village is? I'm not familiar with these lands."

Akame knew she had to tread carefully to avoid any sort of suspicion, she wasn't fond of being accused of any witchcraft matter and having her burnt in a stake although she was immune to fire it still wouldn't help her case though. The soldier just had to blend in someway that would seem that she wasn't from here but was.

She had to lead the conversation that wouldn't make her seem crazy or clueless and to lead her to the answer she seeks. Where the hell was, she right now? What world?

The man, in response, cast an odd gaze her way, suspicion flickering in his eyes. His scrutiny moved from her face to the unfamiliar attire she wore, an ensemble that betrayed no allegiance to the known realms of his world. The silence lingered, the unspoken question hanging in the air.

Without uttering a word on the peculiar nature of her appearance, the man finally spoke, his voice tinged with cautious acknowledgment. "You're not from around here, are you?"

Akame, sensing the delicate dance of perceptions, nodded in agreement. "No, I'm not," she replied, her gaze unwavering. The man's suspicion lingered, but he chose not to pry further. In a world where the unusual often sparked scepticism, Akame chose the path of blending in, letting the flow of conversation lead her closer to the answers she sought.

The man's gaze lingered on Akame for a moment longer, his curiosity evident in the furrow of his brow. Akame, maintaining her stoic demeanour, waited for him to speak, allowing the unspoken questions to hang in the air.

Finally, he broke the silence, "Essos, then? I've heard tales of distant lands beyond the Narrow Sea." His voice carried a note of scepticism, perhaps wondering about the authenticity of her claim.

Essos?

Narrow Sea?

 She never heard of these places in any history books she had read and seen in documentaries. Could she have actually travelled to another world?

Fuck!

The soldier restraint herself from screaming out in frustration and kept her distant demeanour. Now all she has to do to avoid anything from rising she has to pretend she is from this Essos place, although she has no idea where that is, what kind people it has or culture.

Akame, choosing her words carefully, responded, "Yes, Essos. I come from a place far removed from these lands." She let a beat pass before continuing, "I lost my map during my journey, and I'm uncertain about the nearest settlement. Can you guide me?"

The man, still eyeing her with a measured wariness, seemed to deliberate for a moment. "You'll find a village not far from here," he finally offered, pointing down the road. "Follow this path, and you'll reach it by nightfall. But mind you, strangers draw attention in these parts."

Akame nodded, acknowledging his caution. "Thank you for your guidance. I appreciate your assistance." She gently urged the black Friesian horse forward, the dirt road stretching ahead.

As they parted ways, the man on the brown horse continued on his own journey, casting a backward glance at Akame. The echoes of suspicion lingered, but for now, Akame rode toward the village on the horizon, her jet-black hair bellowing in the light breeze, her secrets held close, and her quest for understanding unfurling with each passing stride.

Akame continued down the dirt road, the weight of the realisation settled upon her shoulders like an unwelcome burden. The absence of the familiar landscapes of her world, coupled with the mention of the Narrow Sea and Essos, created a chasm between what she knew and the unknown world she found herself in.

She didn't like it and a bitter taste formed in the back her throat; her mood had also darkened with each passing step. The challenges that lay ahead were daunting, for she knew nothing of the customs, politics, or dangers of this new world.

Yet it didn't mean she knew nothing of ancient society of medieval Europe which also went by another name, The Dark Ages which many people may know as.

Back in the facility she may not been able to have any access to phones, iPads, laptops, or any sort of technology devices but it didn't mean that they prevented her from having books to read especially when they had wanted them to have full knowledge of everything and know everything to complete that side of the perfect human. She remembers reading history books under the willow tree of the indoor garden in the facility.

A giant greenery of land to raise the children of project 13. 

Its where she mostly spend her free time doing when she wasn't having experiments being conducted on her or trained harshly by martial art teachers.

It's probably the only place other than the small cafeteria designed just for them that she was with the others. The other 5 surviving children not counting the last one as he was born years later after she was born and kept in a far more scheduled places due to its unnatural occurrence in his genes.

Her heart ached just by the sudden memory of them and of her twin older brother, Kaito. They were only just kids thrown into a futile war for weapons. They didn't deserve what they got in the end. This cruel world, this vile and corrupted world destroyed them as they had done to her.

What it had done to her older brother.

In the earliest memories, he had been the protective elder sibling, a source of comfort and guidance. They were bound not only by blood but by the shared burden of the experiments they endured.

As the days passed, the brother she had known was replaced by a stranger—a cold, calculating figure who saw the world through a lens of vengeance. The once-bonded siblings found themselves on diverging paths, the chasm widening with every act of brutality and manipulation.

In pursuit of his twisted ambitions, he went to extreme lengths, even faking his own death to erase the remnants of his former life. The memory of his last departure lingered in Akame's mind, a gaping wound that never fully healed. His goal to create a new world even if it meant annihilating everything in his path, had become an embodiment of the corrupt world that had forged him.

However, Akame doesn't know what he really wanted even till now she doesn't know what his plans were really, he never made sense of what his ambitions truly were, he just ranted and committed atrocities around the world. All she could remember was his last words to her before she left him to die in the same willow tree of the facility.

'As an older brother, I have never been so proud of you Akame. You truly have grown to become strong'. 

Did he really wanted to kill her?

She doesn't know and she will never know. It pains her too.

Akame's heart ached as she recalled the faces of the others as well. The ones she had considered family. The camaraderie shattered, replaced by a desperate struggle for survival. In the name of duty, she had been forced to confront those she once called comrades, their paths diverging as the war claimed its toll.

Three of them had met their end by her hands, their lives extinguished in the brutal dance of warfare. The memories, like ghosts, haunted Akame's consciousness, a painful reminder of the sacrifices made in the name of a cause that had left no room for innocence.

Of course, none it matters anymore.

In the end death was just a release for all of them.