Everything is dark.
You blink once and again, before realizing <i>why</i> everything is dark.
''YOU ARE DEAD.''
Your last memory is one of cool dread; you knew this was going to happen when they took what they wanted from you.
The Angel queen never got her hands dirty with you. When you were taken, it was by her suboordinate gunmen.
When you were killed, it was by her suboordinate gunmen. A split second, excruciating, spear through your head.
Despite this, your hands move and twitch as you think. Whatever, wherever now is, you are conscious.
[[Take some time to orient yourself.]][[Who are you?]]
[[Where are you?]]
That's enough.
[[You choose to keep advancing through the darkness.]]The surface you lay on is soft. It gives only slightly under your weight, like linen pulled taught.
You stand up and begin to walk in {[
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You're not sure which one it is. Horses lived in the West- you learned that from the hundreds of books you read, your only pastime. You hope you're going West. You've always wanted to see a horse in real life.
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Wherever you are is pitch black every which way- the only light comes from yourself, footprints leaving a faint blue glow behind.
Besides your quiet footfall, there is no sound, silent as space.
(after: 10s) [You bring two fingers to your neck, and feel for a pulse.]
(after: 15s) [...]
(after: 20s) [There is nothing there. whatever blood exists in your body is standing stock-still. Not even your lungs expand or contract for air.
You conclude that ''you are somewhere between existence and non-existence. '']You are test subject 66 of Project {[
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IMMUNIZE, ANNIHALATE, CLEAR, OCCUPY.
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To your knowledge, you were the only Demonic subject known to survive the effects of the (text-colour:(hsl:270,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[BLACKTHORN ROSE.]
You have existed for 5 years since you were cloned from a strand of hair <i>he</i> left behind. So, you suppose you are 19 years old.
You were never given a name. <i>His</i> name was J.J., so {[
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You often wonder how alike you and J.J. look. He must have different hair and clothes than you, at the very least- At most you have the beginnings of coils atop your continually shaven scalp. You have worn medical scrubs for as long as you have existed.
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(link-repeat:"as not to impose")[(show:?modal2)], you call yourself J.2.
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(after: 20s) [In place of your long-gone right ear is a cybernetic node. It was installed on you before you broke out of the Demonic Authority's laboratory. It's hard to remember the emotions you felt before then; expressions of pain and vexation that the researching team deemed too destructive to allow.]
(after: 30s) [After escaping, you wandered to and fro in the surface world- searching for Aureux's Great Desert. You figured, there- in its vastness, you could tear the node off and deal with the consequences alone, with no casualties or onlookers.]
(after: 50s) [The Angels captured you before you even saw the desert's horizon..]
[[Keep going.]]It has been a long time. You keep walking. Is this futile?
Have you simply been given a final resting place with room to stretch your legs?
[[No. You are not resting here. Keep going.]]You are unsure how long it's been when you hear the sound of fabric rustling.
[[Run quickly towards the noise. Do not lose it.]]The noise comes from a form, you realize as you run closer.
That form is someone, who turns around with a gasp as she notices you.
She rises, immediately pointing (a weapon) towards you.
"Bah! Who raised you? That's no way to approach a stranger."
"I'm- so sorry. I am lost, and have not seen or heard anyone in ages. I thought I was all alone here." Your voice is hoarse from disuse- You were rarely directly addressed.
The woman's guarded look falters.
"Did you just get here?"
You aren't really sure what she's talking about.
"I think so."
"Oh, you poor thing. I usually tend to new arrivals sooner than this. I was lost in my work, patching these holes. Come, sit. I am almost done."
She sits back down and beckons you forward. She begins to use the oversized needle she pointed at you to go back and fourth, back and fourth across the black surface you stood on. The light peeking in begins to filter out as the surface is sewn back together.
"There. Folks with sharp claws or horns often pierce the veil without intending to. Too many holes and this place will fall apart. I must keep up with it."
"What is this place?" You ask.
"This is where everyone with a Soul goes when they die."
[[A Soul.]] "A Soul?"
"You seem surprised, my friend! I can admit I'm a little surprised, too. Your appearance is demonic. Demons and Angels cannot end up here, unless-"
Unless. (Your creator, J.J.'s Father, the few times he spoke to you in the laboratory, never mentioned J.J.'s Mother. You could put two and two together, eventually. You are as Mortalic as you are Demonic.
"Half of Me."
"Understood. You are a rare case."
You are a little tired of being told things like that.
You sit in silence as she finishes the patch, but holds off on the final knot.
"Tell me, Demonic Mortal, do you have unfinished business in the Living World?"
[[Yes.]](text-colour:blue)[You want to meet your genetic kin.]
(text-colour:orange)[You want to ride a horse.]
(text-colour:yellow)[You want to laugh.]
(text-colour:magenta)[You want to fall in love.]
You never got to live, truly.
[[You want to live.]]"I might need a lot of time to finish my business." You scratch your neck, anxious.
The woman smiles, a genuine smile that crinkles the eyes.
"The Veil will be waiting for you time immemorial, boy."
She pulls the string back, undoing the work she had done. The light that bursts in is nearly blinding in the darkness.
"Your ghost will be repossessing what remains of your corpse. You may look different. With those powers you've got, though, I'm sure you can fix yourself up for the second go." She winks at you, and places a hand on your back.
You are teetering on the edge of Death and Life.
"Thank you. What is your name?"
She smiles at you once again.
"Rotara."
With that, she shoves you out of the Veil with one fell push.