The sun shone brightly overhead, its warm rays filtering through the thick canopy and casting dappled shadows on the cracked earth. Nadira still lay on the cool ground, the ache from her jump slowly fading but still lingering in her muscles.
"Hey, enough lying there. Stand up and get moving. The training place won't wait," the voice inside her mind urged, its tone edged with impatience.
"Just a little more time... my injury needs to heal," Nadira murmured, wincing as she gingerly touched her sore leg.
"Fourth time you say that. Your injury's healed already. You're not going to gain power by nursing pain," the voice retorted sharply.
Nadira grimaced but pushed herself up, brushing dirt and leaves from her clothes. "Fine. Now, which way?"
The voice directed her with steady precision. Nadira began running, her footsteps echoing through the ruins of shattered buildings and twisted metal. Around her, massive infected trees loomed, their bark cracked and glowing faintly with unnatural blue veins.
"Why haven't I encountered any monsters yet?" she wondered aloud, breath ragged and uneven.
"Because I'm not ready to bury you on your first mission."
A frustrated "Uh" escaped Nadira's lips as she pressed on.
Sweat dripped down her forehead, and she clutched her stomach, fatigue weighing heavy. "Hey, little girl, if you're too tired, just walk," the voice warned.
But Nadira ignored the caution, complaining, "How much farther? I'm starving—I only ate breakfast, and it's afternoon now."
Her steps slowed, her body moving like a weary shadow.
"Stop dragging yourself. We're here. Open your eyes and look up."
Nadira halted, trembling, and lifted her gaze.
Before her stretched a vast, eerie landscape. Half-buried skyscrapers and crumbling buildings jutted from a wide, glowing blue river, its waters thick with infection. Towering infected trees, their leaves twisted and luminescent, crowded the area, turning it into a dense jungle.
Her eyes widened in fear at the sight of enormous herbivorous dinosaurs grazing nearby—massive creatures with broad, armored plates along their backs and strange green patterns etched across their scales, munching on the giant leaves. Their thick legs crushed the undergrowth with each slow step, and their long necks stretched high to reach the tallest branches.
Smaller, vividly colored dinosaurs darted between the undergrowth, their scales shimmering in hues of electric blue and fiery orange. Their quick movements and sharp eyes made them seem almost otherworldly, perfectly adapted to this infected jungle.
"Don't be afraid. No one here hunts you. These creatures feed only on plants or scavenge from larger animals' young."
Nadira's gaze shifted to the glowing blue river. She looked down and spotted small infected plants nearby. Their leaves shimmered with a faint blue glow, and tiny thorns dotted their stems.
Nadira hesitated, unsure of what to do next. The training ahead would test her body and mind like never before.
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"Get closer to the river," the voice urged inside Nadira's mind, firm and unyielding.
Nadira shook her head, fear tightening her chest. "I don't want to go there. What if a monster eats me? Then Mom and Dad won't find me."
"Don't worry. I already told you—they won't eat you."
Her legs trembled as she took slow, careful steps forward, hiding behind broken pillars and fallen beams. Every sound made her jump, every shadow seemed alive.
At last, she reached the edge of the glowing blue river. The water shimmered eerily, thick and strange.
"What do I do now?" Nadira whispered, voice barely steady. "I'm hungry. I want to go home."
"Just put your hand inside the water."
Confused but obedient, Nadira stretched out her trembling hand and dipped it into the river.
Suddenly, a searing, unbearable pain exploded through her arm. It wasn't just on the skin—the water burned through her flesh, stripping it away down to the bone. She screamed, jerking her hand back as tears streamed down her face.
"Calm down. If you want to stay safe from monsters, you have to endure this."
Nadira tried to hold back her sobs, but the agony was overwhelming, a fire that consumed her from the inside out.
"Your hands are healing. This pain means it's working."
Minutes passed, and the burning dullened to a deep ache. Nadira's tears slowed, but her voice was still shaky. "You're really cruel. I'm hungry. I want real food. I'm not going to listen to you anymore."
"If you're hungry, eat the plants around you."
Her stomach growled fiercely, reminding her of the hunger gnawing inside. Reluctantly, Nadira picked a few glowing, thorny leaves from a nearby bush and bit into them.
Almost immediately, a sharp, fiery pain flared in her stomach—worse than the burn from the water. Her whole body felt like it was on fire as she collapsed onto the cracked earth, writhing helplessly.
She rolled over and over, unable to stop the burning that raged inside her.
"Mom!" she cried weakly, voice breaking.
"Calm down," the voice whispered gently.
Through the haze of pain, Nadira's eyes fluttered open. She saw a beautiful girl approaching, calm and kind.
Before she could say anything, the girl settled beside her, and sleep took Nadira's exhausted body.
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The mysterious girl glanced down at the small device strapped to her wrist, eyes narrowing as she tracked the faint signal flickering on the screen.
"Ahh, how far is she? I don't know... I really want to sleep now," she murmured, her voice heavy with exhaustion.
She began moving through the desolate land, her steps slow and uneven. The barren earth stretched endlessly, dotted only by towering, twisted trees that swayed gently in the hot afternoon breeze.
"No, I've been walking for a long time. I only see these long trees from here. I don't think I can find the person who released this signal," she thought, her eyelids drooping.
Spotting a large, crumbling building nearby, she headed toward its rooftop, hoping to rest. But just as she was about to settle down, a faint sound caught her attention—a soft cry of a little girl.
Curious despite her sleepiness, she pushed herself up and moved toward the voice. Reaching a higher vantage point, she scanned the area carefully.
Her eyes locked onto a small figure lying on the ground below—a black-haired girl, trembling and crying softly.
She checked her wrist device again. The signal was definitely coming from this girl.
Her gaze lingered on the girl's outfit, and a sudden shock washed over her.
"Ah, why does her outfit look almost like my father's and my big sister Amira's?" she wondered, her face scrunching into a chubby frown.
A wave of worry crossed her features. "I don't want my sister to find out I mistook that little girl for her. If she does, she'll probably beat me up and take out my half blood!" The thought made her eyes widen in fear under the harsh sunlight.
Despite her anxiety, her curiosity about Nadira grew stronger.
She watched the girl lying there, vulnerable and innocent, and thought, What is she doing? Why is she lying on the floor like that? I want to talk to her. I want a friend.
Though her body begged for rest, she gathered her strength and started moving closer.
As she approached, her mind raced with questions.
How do I even talk to her? What should I say first? No, first I need to sleep. When I wake up, I'll ask her about being friends.
With that resolve, she settled down nearby, eyes fluttering closed, the mystery of the black-haired girl lingering in her thoughts.
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Nadira's eyelids fluttered open, the soft hues of early evening casting long shadows across the cracked earth. Her body felt heavy and weak, every breath shallow and uneven. A distant, heavy footstep echoed through the desolate land—a large creature moving nearby. Fear tightened her chest.
She turned her gaze toward the sleeping girl beside her, whispering softly, "She looks beautiful... so calm, not scared of anything. Her hair is black like mine, but with red stripes. I don't have those. Her dress looks like mine, but she's not wearing earrings or shoes. No EMP logo on her clothes, and no watch. But she has some strange device on her hand. Who is she?"
Nadira's eyes traced the unique design on the back of the girl's dress. "My dress doesn't have this," she thought curiously.
Just as Nadira reached out to wake her, a sudden, urgent voice echoed inside her mind, different from the usual one. "Don't disturb her. It's getting dark. You need to go home faster. Your parents will wake soon."
Nadira's lips pressed into a thin line, sadness flickering across her face. She wanted to talk more but knew she had to prepare to leave. Just as she was about to move, a warm hand grasped hers.
Looking down, Nadira met the girl's eyes—pure golden, glowing softly in the dim light.
"How beautiful," Nadira thought, surprised and curious. "Why is she holding my hand?"
The girl smiled gently. "I'm Malak. What's your name?"
Nadira blinked, startled by the sweetness and directness of Malak's voice. She whispered, "Malak... I'm Nadira. I'm going home, and you need to go to your home."
Malak's eyes sparkled with interest. "Why? I want to go with you. You seem interesting. I saw you lying on the floor before."
The voice inside Nadira's mind advised softly, "Accept her proposal. It's not a bad thing."
Nadira hesitated, wondering how she would explain Malak to her parents. Malak tried to convince her gently, but Nadira remained quiet, only nodding and following her.
They ran toward Nadira's home, Nadira's breath coming in ragged gasps, sweat dampening her hair and clothes. Her legs trembled with exhaustion, but Malak moved effortlessly beside her, calm and steady.
When they reached the house, frustration hit Nadira hard. The window she had climbed out of was too high to get back in, and the door was locked tight.
Malak's curious eyes studied Nadira. "Why can't she just jump inside? The door looks weak. Even if I use a fraction of my power, I could blow the whole area apart," Malak thought.
Nadira noticed Malak's expression and asked, "What are you thinking?"
Calmly, Malak replied, "Let me blow the door open for you if you can't get in. But why don't you call your parents if you don't want to break anything?"
The voice inside Nadira's mind urged, "Tell Malak everything, then ask for help."
Nadira nodded and explained her situation.
After listening carefully, Malak spoke in a calm, calculating tone, "Here's what you do when you get inside. And what you say if your parents ask questions."
Nadira hadn't thought about this before and looked confused.
Malak smiled slightly. "It's simple. You're still a child. Just go to sleep with your parents. If they ask anything, say you don't know. We just sleep together. In the morning, when your grandpa leaves the house, you can talk then."
Nadira agreed but wondered silently why Malak called me a child when she looked the same age. The plan seemed simple, but Nadira suspected Malak might have something special in mind.
"Okay, but how do I get inside?" Nadira asked.
Malak grabbed Nadira's hands and effortlessly threw her inside the house.
"That was easy," Malak thought, yawning. "Now I want to sleep. I can't go inside because I don't want her to face problems because of me."
Looking around, Malak found a high rooftop nearby and settled down to sleep again.
Nadira lay down with her parents, her mind swirling with questions about where she truly belonged.
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The soft morning light filtered through the thin curtains, casting a warm glow over the small bedroom where the family slept. Salim's eyes fluttered open, drawn by a faint pinching sensation along her arms. She shifted carefully, careful not to wake Yazid or Nadira, and reached out to touch her daughter's hands. Her fingers brushed against the delicate, thorny chains wrapped around Nadira's wrists, their faint shimmer unsettling in the quiet room.
Salim's heart tightened with a strange unease. She looked down at Nadira, who lay curled beneath the thin blanket, breathing softly and seemingly comfortable despite the strange bindings. The girl's unusual clothes—the dress with unfamiliar patterns and the absence of familiar symbols—made Salim's chest ache with worry.
She sighed quietly, knowing she lacked the power to remove those strange clothes or the chains. "I can't protect her from everything," she whispered to herself, brushing a stray lock of hair from Nadira's forehead.
The room was still, save for the soft breathing of the family. Yazid stirred, groaning softly as he rubbed his temples. "Ugh, I must have slept too long," he muttered, sitting up slowly. "My head's pounding. Do we have anything for this?"
Salim smiled gently, trying to mask her concern. "There's some medicine in the cabinet. I'll bring it to you after I finish tidying up."
Yazid nodded, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "Thanks. I'll get up and freshen up."
Salim rose quietly and began tidying the small space, folding blankets and straightening the few belongings scattered around. The scent of morning dew mixed with the faint aroma of herbs from the kitchen filled the air.
As Yazid returned from the bath, refreshed but still rubbing his temples, he joined Salim in the kitchen area. Together, they moved through the familiar routine of preparing breakfast, their movements synchronized from years of shared mornings.
Salim glanced toward the bedroom door, her eyes lingering on the closed curtain behind which Nadira still slept. "Do you think she's really okay?" she asked softly.
Yazid paused, stirring the pot thoughtfully. "I don't know. She's been different lately... distant, like something's weighing on her. Maybe it's time we visit your father's place for a while. It might be better for all of us."
Salim nodded slowly, biting her lip. "I've been thinking the same. Father's place is safer, and maybe he can help us understand what's happening."
Before Yazid could respond, a sharp knock echoed through the house, startling them both.
Salim exchanged a quick glance with Yazid and moved cautiously to the door. Pulling it open, she found a girl standing there—about Nadira's age, dressed in a similar but unfamiliar garment. Her black hair was streaked with vivid red stripes, and her eyes were heavy with sleep.
As Salim looked closer, she noticed something unusual. The girl's skin was unnaturally smooth and clear, almost glowing with an otherworldly radiance. There was a strange, subtle scent emanating from her—something unfamiliar and faintly unsettling—that made Salim feel distant, as if a barrier had formed between them. Nadira, young and innocent, didn't notice anything unusual.
Yazid stepped forward, frowning. "Who is she?"
Salim shook her head, her voice steady but curious. "I don't know... but we need to talk to her. Maybe she can tell us something."
The girl blinked slowly, her gaze steady but tired. "I'm Malak," she said softly.