Muffled footsteps broke the silence of the forest, sinking softly into the untouched, fluffy snow. The rhythmic sound of footsteps repeated, echoing through the trees covered in white. Five figures moved slowly across the frozen landscape, their bodies wrapped in thick layers of clothing to withstand the biting cold.
Among them, one stood out almost unnaturally. Her skin was as pale as the snow itself — so white she seemed translucent under the soft light of the overcast sky. From afar, someone might have thought she was part of the scenery, an illusion shaped by winter. That strangely white thing... was me.
My eyes slowly scanned the group around me, studying each face with silent curiosity. Honestly, I couldn't shake the feeling that this was a strange mix of people... But what really bothered me was that one guy in particular.
Why the hell was he staring at me so intensely? I mean, I know I'm an anomaly — it's written all over me — but that alone didn't justify that fixed stare. He must have seen others like me before. It couldn't be new to him. And yet, there he was, watching me like I was some creature out of a nightmare or a rare museum piece. The most annoying part? He used to at least pretend to hide it.
Now, not even that. His gaze was blatantly direct, like I was a puzzle he was silently trying to solve right then and there. Of course, personally, I didn't care that much. I'd gotten used to sideways glances, curious or scared ones. But there was something about this particular look — maybe how he didn't even blink — that gave me a weird feeling.
I thought about it for a few seconds, trying to find a logical or plausible reason, but nothing came to mind. Before I could even form a theory, though, his next words made me look at him with a mix of surprise and confusion. Of course, my face stayed expressionless, as usual: "Though I've seen you before, I didn't really pay much attention, but..." he started, casting a look that traveled up and down my body: "Honestly, I thought you were taller"
Hearing that, my eyes automatically locked on him. Our gazes met, and we stared silently for a few seconds. I blinked slowly, feeling a slight sting of irritation that I couldn't immediately explain. It was strange — his words bothered me, though only a little. Just a little, really.
See... I wasn't short because I wanted to be, right? And, to be fair, I wasn't that short. Considering my appearance, I might even seem taller than I am, maybe because I look more mature than most ten-year-olds. It's not like that's a problem... but still, something about how he said it made me furrow my brow just a bit.
While I was still staring at the man, I felt a sudden presence beside me. The woman appeared almost silently, as if stepping out of the shadows. Her voice cut through the air right after, firm and a bit cold: "You don't need to worry about that idiot, master. Just ignore him"
As soon as I heard that, I blinked, confused, before turning to face her. For a moment, I thought I'd misheard — maybe my mind was playing tricks. But her face stayed calm, without hesitation or doubt. That could only mean she really said it on her own will.
But... why would I be her master? Honestly, that made no sense. I barely understood what was going on, and they acted like everything was perfectly normal. Were these people crazy or something? Plus, there was something even stranger — they seemed to know me, like they already knew who I was before I even spoke.
I turned my gaze to Arthur, who had been walking silently beside me since the start. He hadn't said a word the whole way, just kept his eyes forward, alert but reserved. When my eyes finally landed on him, Arthur returned the look briefly.
Then he shrugged lightly, almost indifferent. It wasn't that he lacked an opinion about everything happening — I knew that. It seemed more like he was thinking, analyzing silently, waiting to see where this would take us.
I thought about it for a long time, my thoughts swirling and making me partially unaware of the surroundings. The landscape around us went unnoticed, as if shrouded by a fog of distraction. I stayed that way until the voice of the man I'd met before the other two broke the silence, firm and to the point: "We've reached the site"
The word "site" snapped me out of my thoughts. My eyes scanned the area for a few seconds, trying to recognize something familiar, until they stopped on something ahead: a lake with an unusual appearance.
Its surface was completely dark, dense, like thick mud. No matter the angle, the water had no shine, and the reflection was swallowed by that muddy darkness. I knew exactly where we were.
(So... this is really Base 17) Though I still had my doubts before, they all vanished the moment my eyes met the black lake — still, deep, and wrapped in a strangely silent mist.
Honestly, it had been a long time since I last came back to this place. I have to admit, after everything, I never really thought I'd return to Base 17 someday. From what I heard since my last battle against that gigantic shadowy octopus, the lake has been quieter than ever — almost like it had slipped into some kind of deep hibernation.
Then, the man who guided us to the lake, along with his companions, slowly started to walk away. Despite the growing distance, his eyes remained fixed on me, carrying a silent intensity that seemed to say more than words ever could.
However, it didn't look like they were going to do anything else — neither help us nor follow us further. In a way, it was as if the only purpose of that encounter was simply to lead me to that exact spot. Ignoring them, I turned my attention back to the calm surface of the lake before me. A deep, inexplicable feeling of nostalgia radiated from it.
It wasn't as if I had never been here before, nor as if I ignored what lay at the bottom of the lake — after all, basically, nothing but a silent void. Yet back then, I didn't feel anything different coming from that dark vastness. So why now, staring at that still surface, did a strange weight of nostalgia flood over me? Maybe it was the reflection of memories, or the echo of something the lake kept with me, hidden in its depths. Either way, I didn't expect all my questions to be mysteriously answered.
With that unsettling thought, I took slow, measured steps toward the frozen lake. Behind me, small delicate footprints left marks in the fresh snow, like a silent trail revealing my passage. The air was cold and heavy, and a soft whisper of wind rustled the dry branches of the surrounding trees.
No one tried to stop me; Arthur stood still, a little apart, like a silent shadow just watching the situation unfold. His eyes reflected a quiet curiosity, and I imagined that, like me, he was eager to see what would happen next.
Moments later, I stopped completely. My eyes locked carefully on the black, icy surface of the lake before me. It was exactly as I remembered it — imposing and silent, reflecting the gray sky with an almost supernatural stillness. Yet, for some strange reason, that water seemed... frozen in time, as if time itself had stopped there.
Slowly, I crouched down, eyes fixed on the endless darkness stretching across the lake. A light mist hovered over the still water, making the atmosphere even quieter and more oppressive. With a cautious movement, I extended my hand — just one finger, hesitant — and touched the muddy surface of the lake.
I didn't know what to expect, or rather, I expected nothing; still, something inexplicable inside me urged me to act, to feel that cold and mysterious touch. My fingers caressed the thick water, gently rippling beneath my skin, but nothing happened. At least, not at first.
At some point, I felt a subtle beat. I blinked, convinced I might have imagined it. My eyes scanned the surroundings, but no one — except me — seemed to have noticed that strange sound. I looked back at the lake, and then came another beat, stronger, coming from the bottom of the waters and passing through me, as if resonating inside my own chest.
Somehow, I could vaguely sense where it was coming from, although I couldn't measure the exact depth. It was as if those beats came from nowhere, from the darkest bottom of the lake, and came straight to me. Ironically, even I didn't know how deep they really came from — a pulsing mystery hidden beneath the calm surface.
I watched the lake carefully, feeling the cold water brush my fingers as I slowly dipped them into the surface. Gradually, the beats became more regular, as if something alive was pulsing in the depths, rhythmically echoing against the silent bottom. The water, which had been still and clear until then, began to stir gently, forming small ripples that spread softly outward.
The light's reflection distorted slightly, signaling that something beyond my perception was awakening there. It was that subtle, almost imperceptible movement that finally caught the attention of those around me; their curious gazes shifted from me to the lake.
I just kept my finger resting on the calm surface of the lake, feeling the cold water wrap around my skin. Slowly, my eyes began to close, as if drawn by a deep, strange sleep. Suddenly, without realizing exactly when, I found myself floating above the lake.
Around me, a thick, opaque fog stretched in all directions, so dense it was impossible to see anything beyond that whitish veil. My eyes cautiously scanned the environment, looking for any clue or sign, while an unsettling question formed in my mind: exactly where was I?.
But then, a silent ripple appeared on the calm surface of the lake. I didn't think much about it, as if something invisible guided my steps — my feet moved by themselves, almost hypnotized, toward the edge of that trembling water. With the light touch of my fingers, I touched the rippling part of the lake, feeling the cold temperature and the smooth texture of the stirred water.
In the next moment, something slowly emerged from the depths: a sphere. It was black, dense, as if swallowing all the light around it, making it impossible to tell what was inside.
However, inexplicably, I could feel a rhythmic pulse coming from that dark core — a vibration that seemed to resonate inside me, as if that thing and I were linked by an invisible thread, sharing the same silently beating heart.
The next moment, I was again facing the lake. My fingers still held the cold, muddy sensation of the surface, as if the dark water had left a cold, sticky touch that was reluctant to disappear. I briefly glanced around; the thin mist was starting to dissipate, revealing the faint outlines of trees and the gentle ripple of the water.
However, everyone's gaze around me remained fixed, piercing and silent, focused solely on the lake. Following their focus, I lifted my eyes and there it was again — the same floating sphere I had seen before, hovering silently over the water, emanating a pale, almost hypnotic glow.
My eyes stayed fixed on the sphere in front of me. A single thought invaded my mind the moment I stared at it: it was something deeply nostalgic. A strange feeling, as if something inside me recognized that object, whispering that this was not the first time I had seen it.
Although countless thoughts swirled through my mind as I fixed my gaze on the black sphere gently floating above the murky, dark surface of the lake, at first glance it seemed like just a simple distortion caused by the light or the water.
However, beneath that deceptive appearance, I felt something deep and inexplicable — a subtle pulse, a sign of latent life amid the chaos of the distortion, something that completely defied the natural patterns I knew.