014

A lush, mediterranean aroma filled the small cottage as Jeremiah continued with his cooking. I looked outside to the window beside me, the beginning rays of the day clashed against my eyes. Momentarily blocked by the towering trees in the far distance.

"Been silent a bit there, boy?" The old man questioned me, I turned to look at him, he seemed to be chopping vegetables, "Rough things happened last night, eh?"

"Yeah, well. I'm still thinking about what the commander said." I answered.

"Mhm? What'd she say?" His voice flowed softly through the room, across my ears. He dropped the chopped onions to whatever he's cooking, lowered the heat, and walked over to a machine over the far side of the room. An Ambrosia.

"That I'm not myself." The machine covered the entire wall, it looked crude, full of moving parts. There's a glass dome in the middle, perfect size to fit a single body.

Haya informed me earlier that she'll leave my head and enter the machine, grabbing the first body that is created from it.

"Ya ain't yourself? What does she mean, boy?" He pulled some levers, then pushed a button. The machine hummed to life as it began its work. The inside of the glass glowed yellow and the foundations of a person is created.

"I don't know, she just said that I'm fabricated. My memories are fake."

The lights flickered and for a moment, fire, air, water, were pulled straight into Ambrosia, "Oh!" Twain exclaimed, moving towards the machine and recalibrating it. Afterwards, he went near his door were an oil-powered generator sat and pulled it open. "Almost forgot about how this thing works. But, fake?"

"Yeah, fake."

The generator hummed violently as electricity flows into the cottage. He goes back to the machine and recalibrates it, most likely to divert all Terrium inputs straight into the machine.

"You can't fake memories, boy. Implant, sure. But you," He turned to look at me, his gaze fixated straight at my face, he narrowed his eyes as if to sharply look further, "You're the same as you always were."

I fell silent for a moment as the machine continued its work. I touched my face, feeling my face, or was it my fingers. The warmth that I felt on my cheeks in that dream. I don't know her, but I can't remember her. "Twain."

"Hm?"

"You do know that I have perfect memory, right?"

"Yeah? I should know, I was with the people that implanted it on you," he laughed, "That was a fun time."

"I've had these leaps in my memory these past few days. I don't know what's causing them but, I don't remember much of what happened on Haya's death."

"Faulty? Hm," He then went outside, "Give me a second, alright?" I don't know where he went after. But it gave me time to myself. Time to move my body.

I felt the pain and strain all over my body with each tiny movement. I wanted to yell, but it was better to keep it to myself for now, it was manageable anyway.

I stepped out of my bed into the warm, oakwood floors. The heat tingles and warms my cold feet up in comfort. It was early morning, after all, and I already missed at least a few days of my daily exercise.

But there was no time for exercise, my body was still too strained and painful for any kind of overexertion. I limped towards the Ambrosia, seeing the body being formed right before my eyes. I felt the warmth of the yellow glow, like the suns. Silently, I prayed for Haya's body to be without fault.

I went over to the stove, checking what Jeremiah's cooking. It smelled nice, looking over to it, it seems that he's making a sort of vegetable soup. Perfect, I could really go for one right now.

I turned around and looked outside the window again, feeling the wind blow across my face. Haya made sure that there's no digital traces of us going to this area. And I guess it shows. Killing the commander would have entailed a manhunt of ridiculous proportions. But here we are, still alive.

I walked back and sat back down on the bed. Just as Twain came back with a huge duffel bag. He carried it around carefully. Placing it neatly on the table. He unzipped the bag and pulled out a laptop, along with several other technological devices.

Then, he assembled it. Taking his precious time as the humming of the machine grew stronger. Finally, he plugged the laptop in, "I think with this, I can check your memory implants and see any faults." He said, typing away at his laptop.

"Thanks for this, Twain." I told him, "That said, how long do you think Haya's body will take?"

"At least a few more minutes, I guess."

"I see… how're the kids?" I know Jeremiah had at least 4 kids and one awful person of a wife. It's why he worked in the harshness of the Galactic Agent's Medical Facilities anyway.

"I think you'd know by now, Marcus. Considering I'm out here in the middle of nowhere."

"Ah, who started it this time?"

"Her."

"I see, that's surprising."

He glared at me, "Are you implying something? Marcus?"

"No no," I laughed, "I just thought that they're the one that'd leave you."

He laughed back, "I've had enough of them, honestly. Plus, Seia probably found someone else already."

"Ah. What'd she get a new body now?"

"Yeah, younger. Couldn't stand it."

"I see. So you won't see your kids now huh?"

"I visit them sometimes. But it's better for me to just stay here."

"I see… don't get lonely?"

"Not really, I'm used to the is-oh?"

"Hm?"

"That's weird. You said you had gaps in your memory yeah?"

"Yep."

"I didn't find any faults in your implant, but I can't find the memories you spoke of either. Seems like something messed with your memories itself."

"Shit, it's probably him."

"Crimson king? Probably. Nevertheless, I'm gonna strengthen your implant and memory's protection."

"Thanks, T-" The machine beeped loudly as the glass dome opened in a fog. I could barely see the body, but I can see its silhouette moving through the smoke.

She stood up from the machine and went down, walking towards us away from the smoke, "Hey boys." She said triumphantly.

Hands on hips, she stood there stark naked. Her hair was short, shoulder length, it flowed nicely through the wind. She smiled warmly towards us.

"Glad to have a body agai-" She coughed roughly, falling down on her knees, coughing blood into the ground.

"Oh woops. Not again." Twain panicked, trying to get her up.

"Again!?" I asked, "What do you mean again!?"

"You don't remember? When we b-" He tried to explain, but was cut off by Haya's even more violent coughing fits.

"Don't tell him." She said through rashed voice, "Not yet, fix me first."

Haya and Jeremiah went back into the smoke, I saw her go back down the glass dome as it closed. And the body is fixed.