The picture frame sat on the ground, a couple centimeters of distance from symbol to symbol. A girl that shouldn't be conscious with the amount of wounds that littered her body knelt in front of both of them, her fingertips resting on the intermediary ground. Dull grey eyes traced the singed tear above the tattoo, scorched skin accenting the smell of petrichor and regret. Forget the rest of the city, people died every hour of every day in Vanity alone, and this guy was no different. Every other district was rich enough to have custodians, automated systems, or both comb through every nook and cranny to keep it clean. With these protocols, the corpse would be gone by the first lights of the morning, but the slums of New Bangkok had to play by their own street rules. Bodies like his usually found their final home in this abandoned labyrinth of concrete and despair, so he wasn't too far already. If they were deep into actually inhabited buildings, he would be left to rot in one of the many alleys instead.
The picture frame rested in her hand for a few moments before letting it dissipate into its luminous wisps, surging back to her internal storage. Flowing into her fingertips once more, she felt a similar sensation to when Cipher did the diagnosis on her body with his power. Only this time the energy felt at home in her body, flowing into her core and swirling counter clockwise. It was warm and slow, a stark distinction from her recent kill.
Brushing off her newly acquired threads, she continued walking in the same direction as before, leaving the charred Nihility-marked corpse in her wake. He was just another low level crook, another person so down on their luck they had to join up with other unfortunate victims of circumstance. Those kinds of gangsters were a dime a dozen, double that in this neck of the woods, and so were the people who died after getting involved with them. Kanashima had seen these proceedings shake out multitudes of times as a result of growing up in Vanity, so why was today so different? What made this specific death so much more impactful, weighing so much heavier on her than any others before? Just as easily as he died, she could've been the dead one at the end of their skirmish.
Sparing a glance behind her at the burnt skin, her nose recoiled. It smelt truly awful, as if the smell of fecal matter and death didn't blemish the already ruined area enough. In front of her was the other part of the corpse, the one that was blasted off into the distance. It did its own horrible job at accenting the chilly air too, the hair reduced to ashes and the hole singing the skin.
I did that. I robbed him of his life. What a terrible way to go, dying over nothing.
He was gunning for her own too, right? Not to kill her in the literal sense, but stealing her life away all the same. In no way would she ever want to go with them, or anyone, and give them control. Her life was her own, and she was just defending herself, just like he would've if he knew how much of a threat she could be. Walking past the severed head of the man, her eyes caught the lifeless gaze of his unwavering dark pools of onyx. The same facial expression he held when he was in front of her, ready to pull whatever it was from his pocket. The same one that saw her first instance of electrical pulse build up and release. The same one that caught the bolt.
Her ALFA gifted ability really had the power to take somebody's life in an instant. Staring at her hand again with widened eyes, tracing the outlines of blood splotches. It must've gotten on her fingers when she inspected his deceased neck. The headache plaguing her mind only intensified, as if her dehydration, lack of food, and anemia wasn't bad enough. He was threatening her, but she couldn't help herself, empathizing with his dead soul. There was probably somebody, likely a loved one of some sort, expecting him home that night. Anybody desperate enough to join a malevolent crew had people that depended on them. Kanashima knew what it was like all too well to hear that the somebody one depended on was never going to return home.
Morgan was taken away just like that too. Like Mom was. Morgan would've never done this.
Her charcoal eyes welled up with what little moisture her body could muster up, stopping her right in her tracks. It wasn't her problem, people just like him died all the time, anybody in Vanity knew that. Was she the kind of person to do something like that? She should've been able to blow off his leg or something to actually stop him. Not permanently end his bloodline.
A couple tears were all her dehydrated state was able to manage before her eyes fully dried up. She wasn't a murderer, just doing whatever she had to do to get out of the situation in her best interest. No matter how many times she told herself that, those same darkened black eyes stared back at her in her mind, lifeless and unwavering.
I'm absolutely a killer. Any good person wouldn't have had to kill him.
Following the sounds of community, car alarms, and commotion, Kanashima was able to make her way out of the abandoned sector. Finding her way back to the main road wasn't an issue once she reached some inhabited areas, the smell of desperation and cooking oil was a dead giveaway. The same dirty sidewalks with less than pleasant people weren't all that different from where she left the decomposing corpse. Flickering neon lights populated a bunch of crude and unassuming storefronts, a minor altercation and a sizable rock away from mimicking the concrete jungle just a couple blocks away. Even in her bruised and injured state, not a single soul on the street batted more than a single eye at the sight of her. Maybe if she lived in the same neighborhood as Serafin, one well meaning and pleasant individual would pick her sorry figure off the street for some rapid triage and care. A real ticket to get out of dodge.
Yeah, as if. Who would want to care for a murderous slum rat anyway?
Hobbling down the street was all she could manage in her malnourished and fatigued state. At this rate, she'd be back to her sorry excuse for a home in thirty minutes time. Could she even last that long without passing out from exhaustion, pain, or some other unknown ailment? There was only one way to find out, and Kanashima was not eager to do so. Even a bite to eat would be nice right about now, like that deliciously sweet and slightly flowery fruit.
Seconds later, an ornate woven basket appeared in her arms once more. A couple more glances were thrown her way, following the scarlet lights weaving together in front of her. Once it was apparent that it was a simple box, they turned away again. Living in Vanity made people paranoid, herself included. She couldn't blame anybody for being afraid of the scraped up girl with blood on her hands, especially an Electrogen variant. Hell, she would've been on guard too if she was one of the passerbys, or even one of the food stand patrons just trying to eat a simple meal after work. Most Electrogen had the ability to summon a weapon from their storage, and many had in the streets of the slums before. Maybe these people's ailment was less paranoia, and more self preservation.
Five of the succulent sweets later, she finally had some sort of respite from her dehydration and hunger. There were still several more in the Bountiful Basket, she didn't need the armament to tell her that she needed way more to actually sate herself, but she was just too exhausted from the whole ordeal. How long has it been since she slept? Definitely over thirty hours, forty maybe? She had no way of truly knowing, or even knowing how long she was lost in the simulacrum for. That part would be easy enough to find out.
Locating the next corner store, she peered through the glass, staring at the holographic sign hanging inside. Under the "Sell After," the sign displayed the date exactly sixteen years from the current, December twelfth, a whole eight days since the night she had been cornered in that alley. Eight days since the first time she met the man laying dead on the concrete a handful of blocks away.
I've been gone for that long? Rent was due on the fifth, will I even be able to get into my apartment?
Suddenly, she wasn't so eager to get back to the crude place she used to call home without a guarantee that she'd be able to get in. According to some random person that walked the Earth before World War Four, home was where the heart was anyway, and she lost that when she lost Morgan. Returning to her half eaten ten yuan a slice pizza, unfiltered water straight from the tap, and her torn mattress that hovered at that uncomfortably perfect median where it was not firm enough nor soft wasn't the most appealing, even if she really did need the food, water, and sleep.
Just thinking of the greasy foodstuff filled to the brim with synthetic preservatives was appetizing to her, even if it made her sick more times than she could count on her hands. Her stomach growled again, but she was just too tired to pay it any mind and stuff it with another one of her addictive fruits. It's not like she could afford much else either, keeping a roof over her head was already costly enough, and she didn't even have that anymore. Maybe that meant she could splurge a little bit and get a sandwich or some other delicacy.
She dove her hands into her torso pockets, trying to fish out her dark blue card. She might as well drop the last yuan in her bank account on a sandwich and some sugary processed drink from the convenience store. After the little, barely satisfying meal she could hop on the train too, she paid for the monthly access the day before leaving so it wouldn't be a problem getting to the cafe. Holding out her roughed up hands, she stared at the couple balls of lint and a sales tag.
My card was left in my jacket… the jacket long lost to the simulation.
The ALFA virus was connected and rooted in reality much more than she originally thought. Even though her body was simulated in the curated environment, the body she was in control of currently was the same one that went through the excruciating experience in the spider den. The giant hole in her shoulder that was currently covered up by the long sleeve was evidence enough for her.
If ALFA's AI had the power to edit the world as they saw fit, that would mean humanity as a whole were at the mercy of it, not the other way around as many stories and authorities would have the populous believe. If the decision was in her hands, she would've never contracted the stupid death sentence. She never would've been forced to jump headfirst into that so-called fair trial that so many kids before her had died to. Who in their right mind would create such a thing, subject fellow humans to such pain and suffering? There had to be a moral line that humans wouldn't cross, even way back then, right?
Morgan would still be around too, if it weren't for it.
Kanashima continued walking past the subway staircase. It was no use for her to waste precious calories on the meaningless detour, they would've instantly turned her away without the membership card or money. If she could just make it back to her apartment, she would be able to grab some actual physical kuai. She didn't have much saved up in the shabby room, but it would have to do until she continued her shifts at the cafe, whenever that could happen again, or got access back to her bank account.
Reaching into the pockets of her lower half clothes, she came up empty handed once more. Her cheap convenience store communicator was also destroyed sometime between realms, or else she could've just avoided this entire mess and called her boss. She didn't want to have to rely and beg her too much, as far as she was concerned, she had already helped out much more than she had any real obligation to. First helping out her brother, and then her. Honestly, she was just thankful for the opportunity with the job. After getting fired for the emotional breakdown, she almost gave up entirely right then and there.
God, what would I even be if it wasn't for that?
Even though it had only been a few weeks since her previous job, there was already such a stark distinction between the sad excuse for a sibling replacement three weeks back and her present self. She probably wouldn't be as wounded and scratched up right about now, but the work environment was night and day. This boss actually fed her real eggs, and allegedly saved her from whatever that Nihility group wanted with her. Her old boss probably would've sold her off to those guys for a chocolate bar.
After living in Vanity for all her life, she knew most, if not, every shortcut there was throughout the district to get almost anywhere. She stopped in between a fried synthetic protein food cart and a shady fake metal jewelry boutique and dipped into one of the numerous dark alleys. Soon enough, lavender petals came into view, adorning a rather large tree, especially for the destitute location.
Too tired to continue her navigation, Kanashima instead approached the center of Vanity Square. A few kids recognized her, waving their innocent little hands at another one of the regulars. Without even thinking, her right hand replicated the small gesture towards the crowd of children. These were probably the only people currently alive that she felt any sort of kinship too, they too were struggling in the hellhole of the world, but still managing to have fun and create bonds. What they had was special, hopefully they wouldn't make the same mistake as she did and stay at each other's side in the coming years.
Those kids sure love to play. I miss when times were that simple.
Pressing her back against the thick bark, she sat down on the soft dirt, finally getting a moment to breathe. She rested her head against the tree as well, her gaze peeking through the droopy canopy. It would be the last thing she saw tonight, as it only took her a few more seconds of stagnation before her body gave into the desperate need for sleep, powering down.