[thunder bots in a clear sky]
[03] - now initiating : forced restart for user [xxx]
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content warning: this chapter is not beta-read so the only content warning i can think of right now is that this one is either trippy as fuck or just weird bible-inspired surrealist writing
[PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION! I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY TRIGGERS CAUSED BEYOND THIS LINE]
so much for going out with a bang.
she wakes up in the middle of an unnaturally long and empty corridor. it was painted white, from the floor to the ceilings — everything was shrouded in a blinding light, yet it did not hurt her eyes, strangely enough. there seemed to be no shadows cast in this corridor, everything felt airy. how curious was it that she felt more alive here, on the other side, than she had ever did when she was yet to pass on.
it seems the only thing she could do was to walk along the path shown to her.
with her hand supporting her, she lifts herself up to her feet. her body felt shapeless. if she focused long enough, her physical form materialized in the same form she had back when she was alive — but focus was a hard thing to come by in this realm. eventually, she gave up and let her figure dissolve into nothingness.
she was there, she was not there. what a strange phenomena.
down the corridor she goes, breezing past the disfigured doors groaning as they creak their last on the hinges they still hung on. she does not recognize the faces in the melting portraitures. there were no people in those frames. there was no canvas. faster and faster she goes down the corridor. something screeches in the distance. she will not look back at it. she will not entertain the anxiety numbing the soles of her feet! she was almost out of this place. there was a light shining at the end of this monotonous corridor. she tumbled and falls into the light as it swallows her whole, drowning her inside it's infinite belly. she twirled her body to face the direction she came from — shut eyes peeled open to see that there was nothing there anymore. the air around her ears build up suddenly and she feels her head just might explode from the pressure. what was going on? what was going on? what was—
a phone rings.
the shrill noise goes on for a short while until it was silenced by a soft click as someone picks up the receiver, listening patiently to the mumbled words of the other end, small hums interjected into their response.
i see, thank you for informing us about her arrival… yes, i will let the team know about this as well… yes, i'll phone the manager and the boss to keep them updated… yes, we will let you know when we receive her here… alright then, thank you so much for you hard work.
the voice was soft yet unsettlingly strange, like a multitude of people all speaking at once. some were gentle, some were brash, most were in differing languages — the someone, or something itself was a faceless, fog-like entity. they seemed to have eyes, yet it was always appearing and disappearing into the fuzzy haze of it's being, it's centre opened up to a hallow darkness whenever it spoke. it didn't have a malignant presence, though it didn't seem benevolent either. the fog entity sat in their swivel chair, their translucent essence cascading onto the ground in waves like thick hair. attention focused on the work in front of them, clicking away incessantly.
this place was a regular office, surprisingly enough. the layout was neat and tidy, it was illuminated by rows of dingy florescent lights, there was even a pantry at the far corner. sounds of the printer whirring clashed with the clacks of the keyboards at various work cubicles, the bitter smell of burnt coffee permeated the stale air just like any other office. though the same cannot be said for the employees working in there.
the fellow all the way at the end, for example, the one standing by the printing machines? it was a ball of hands. it looked like the way it sounds — arms of various origins all entangled and intertwined around and within each other as though it were a ball of yarn. the mass held up by the singular pair of hands, palms laying flat on the floor, acting as the entity's … feet. the hand-feet were wearing gloves, probably trying to soothe the painful callouses that had surely formed from moving around in that manner.
looking around the office, it grew rather obvious that every worker there was an apparition that related of a part of the human body. there was the one who was a wheel of feet, always running up and down the aisle with documents and other items secured on them, making stops at the cubicles that needed their services. there was the bag of eyes that hung on the highest corners of the office, acting like surveillance cameras. the sight of the workers in their cubicles was a spectacle in itself. computer screens with human mouths attached to the sides as it called out the words on the screen —
the woman has seen much in her lifetime, though none enough to prepare her for this… oddity.
she shifts on her feet, heel hitting the ceramic surface of the potted plant appearing out of thin air right next to her. the sound was practically inaudible, but that was all it took for everybody in the office to swivel their attention onto her. she might not have a visible form, but she was still quite conscious of her appearance.
oh god…
the fog-like entity sighs, the once flowy mist cascading down it's being now spiking up in agitation. this was an unexpected development, their guest wasn't meant to see all the office workers like this. how troublesome.
the woman watched the entity stand up, it's sudden movements causing the paper and pens on their desk to clutter onto the floor. she didn't even get to process how it's height towered over her figure — it's head touching the ceiling that seemed to grow further and further upwards, before a heavy blanket is dropped on top of her, bringing the woman down to her knees.
quickly!
hushed whispers urging the other to hasten their movements floated all around the office as the staff tired to rectify the situation. there was only so much time they could buy from the little blanket trick they pulled. when the chaos settled and everyone was back in their previous positions, with the furniture and stationeries all tidied up proper too, they went about their work as though nothing had happened. the office was once again filled with the smell of bitter coffee and the sound of the printer whirring noisily amid the increscent ringing of the landlines and clacking keyboards.
it took the woman a great amount of effort to pry the blanket off her, it's always a pain to get out of a tangled mess, isn't it? especially after a good night's sleep after a long, hard day and it's raining outside…
the woman gets up on her feet and smoothed out the creases on her clothes —
wait.
hold on.
since when did she materialize a body? clothed, too? she had so much trouble trying to maintain a physical form just a short while ago? and what's this? she can feel the flex of her fingers when she clenched and relaxed her fists? has her senses come back to her too? what about this? or that other thing? or…
her head began to spin and hurt as the unanswered questions piled in her mind.
at least her bodily functions are working fine so far.
gathering herself, the woman straightened her back. the same way she had been taught to long ago. her gaze pointed and straight, her posture perfect as ever and with her feet planted onto the ground, she walked up to the receptionist's desk. the fog-like entity that was once there was now an innocuous-looking front desk manager. their hair was long and wavy and soft and fluffy from how thick It was.
how may i help you miss?
the former fog entity's voice no longer felt as though it were multiple people speaking at once — rather, it had a raspy undertone, as though they were just about to cough up something. the woman tried not to stare at the receptionist's mismatched eyes, ill-fitting face and their thin lips hiding a row of rotting teeth. she tried not to think about how it looked as though the entity was wearing an outfit they had haphazardly put on. come to think of it, when she peered past the receptionist to look into the office only to see that all the grotesque amalgamations had now been replaced by humanoid figures that resembled regular run-of-the-mill office workers.
a cough breaks her out of her thoughts.
miss? how may i help you?
the receptionist asked once again, wrinkled fingers tapping on the desk surface impatiently. the woman, now flustered, clumsily asked where the exit was. she had almost forgotten that she was supposed to find a way to leave this place. an office usually had an exit door, right? a quick glance to the back of the room —
a wall.
uhm… may i know where the exit is?
tongue darting out to wet her dry lips, she fidgeted in her spot. she's never been one to do well in structured, rigid settings like these. that's why it was so easy for her to leave the alliance back then.
there is no exit here. well, not a visible one, anyways. state your name and i'll run you in our records then send you to where you need to go if we have a match. otherwise, you'd have to wait over in another room until when you get called to leave. any other questions?
the woman shakes her head.
alright. name?
it's [redacted]
oh. so it's you.
the receptionist remarked, the perfectly drawn-on eyebrow raising at the end of their sentence. a wrinkled hand reached over to pick up the receiver, dialing a few numbers as they muttered under their breath about how some people just didn't know how to do their job properly, or how they have no self awareness… whatever that meant.
the ground below the woman starts to shake. a circle of light appeared around her, and before she even had a chance to open her mouth and ask about it — the receptionist waves her off with a closed eyed smile, muttering a good luck, as they send her off to the unknown.
she wondered if they heard her screams.
the journey to the next area was really shitty, and that was her being generous. these folks better feel lucky that they didn't have a review page, or she might have blown it up with paragraphs upon paragraphs all airing out her grievances with the customer service of the afterlife office… reception… information desk?
barely a full sentence into her wandering thoughts, she finds herself once again falling through the ceiling and out the familiar circle of light that had just swallowed her whole, the transportation tract she had been vomited out of was beginning to fade away — it's job of sending her here now done.
ah… senior wings… the little wing ten is here…!
the voice belonged to a sheep-like child, their darling curls framed a delicate face and their small, plump lips pulled into a smile, with none of it's mirth reaching the child's eyes.
hello little wing ten… i am sechs. your senior wing number…
and i am un. the first, and eldest wing.
the sheep-like child snarled in the direction of the one who had cut them off mid-sentence. the so-called eldest only shrugged off the child's insignificant stare, pretending they didn't exist. the atmosphere between the two grew sticky with tension — the others cold only shift uncomfortably on their feet, hoping against hope that those two wouldn't start another fight. lord knows how the last stand-off ended…
it certainly wasn't a pretty end, that much was for sure.
wing… wings… right. hers had been ripped off, all six of them gone just like that. her back throbs in a timely reminder at the memory. these… wings… if that' s how they call themselves, and what they've called her as well were gathered here, then were they also wielding the same powers as she did?
if she asked, would they tell her all that she had struggled to know her whole life? perhaps not.
the tenth wing, what does that title mean for her? no doubt it was another shackle that chained her to some larger-then-life entity. before, there was another entity she had died to escape from, but here she was again — when, when… when will she be free? free from all this…
her head throbs, her sleeping and senseless moving body had begun to wake, the prior discomforts of her passing seeping into a very much alive flesh that her consciousness was housed in. the first wing's sharp voice pierced through the fog of her pain, the cloud that settled in her brain lifted in the brief intermission where they spoke.
number ten… hm, perhaps we should call you yeol.
ah… i hate it! i don't like what you picked! i'm calling our little number ten… shi! take that you stinky number one!
… sechs.
the first frowns and sighed, rubbing their temples to null their growing annoyance at the sixth wing's constant childishness. interrupting them mid-speech, what a mannerless child.
you may call me however you wish… esteemed senior wings…
the woman's quiet voice breaks through the discomforting silence, and the other wings secretly let out a sigh of relief — a crisis had been adverted, unknown to the newcomer. oh… she a keen one, it's better to have someone like her around for a long time… a very, very long time, this time.
my darling, could you tell us what name you used with the humans? perhaps that could give us a suggestion on how we should call you? isn't that right un?
yes, i suppose that it will.
the first looks away, giving up on winning the rest over. they shuffled over to the end of the room, sitting on an empty seat as far from the commotion as possible. there, they sulked in their chair much like a temperamental child, poor old first wing must have been the centre of attention at one point before the other wings came along.
darling? could you stand up for me please?
the woman turns to the voice calling her darling sweetly, watching the unknown wing walk over with a lightness in their step. while the first wing was covered from head to toe in what could be described as a priest's robes — this wing however, was donned in cloth that draped lightly around their figure, the woman averts her eyes instinctively. it's not that she was a prude, it's just that she would rather observe at a distance further than her arm's length.
darling?
the cloth-draped wing asks, their brows upturned in concern over the woman's unresponsiveness. her blank stare reflects off their iridescent eyes — once again lost in thought.
tsk! don't use your other powers on the newbie you creepy old hag!
the wing gasps, a hand over their heart, feigning hurt from the words directed at them. nobody was buying their act though, this one's already pulled that stunt enough times to bore the rest of them.
ugh. cut it out.
the same voice from earlier yells out, with a chorus of hums sounding in agreement.
just then, a loud bang echoed across the space. from the top of the room, the ceiling perhaps, a young wing's silhouette, maybe around the woman's physical age emerged from the bright opening that had formed. as they descended down towards the others, their footfalls heavy against the solid surface of the spherical room they were all encased in. it felt like an eternity's wait as the party fell silent, listening to the figure coming closer. it was just her lonesome breathing, the echoing thumps, and golden pupils catching the light's rays that kept her breaking sanity some company within the continuous walls of the spherical room. [1]
so.
the latecomer walks up towards the woman, a temper brewing up behind their sharp gaze. they look up and down her slumped form sitting on the ground — she only noticed now that none of the wings had bothered to help her get up to her feet. embarrassed, she stumbles to her feet, tripping over the words in her head she tries to introduce herself.
i—
you're [redacted], former captain of the fourth division for the I.G.A.P's security department. you fucked up and got executed, and unfortunately our new tenth wing.
oh, god. that was rude. her life was much more than that short introductory sentence. but was it really?
and you're also unfortunately my partner. i'm the ninth wing, and that's all you need to know about me. as your senior, for any and all of our future assignments you will be listening to my instructions and guidance. so no more of your quote-unquote serving justice or the sword will punish you bullshit you've been doing, even though it's part of our rituals, i would like to kindly request that you respect your origins and customs from now on and not do things so willy-nilly.
the woman was stunned into silence. the ninth wing's crude imitation of her chants, their chants, had garnered low giggles from the others. clearly she was at the bottom of their social rank for some reason, and nine was very much on a power trip right now.
her chest stirs.
it was angry. that heart of hers, it was never really meant to be hers but this and that happened and she got it transplanted into her body as a kid and that heart, the one that wasn't hers always seemed to have a mind of it's own, defying all scientific logic and acting like the person who it used to belong to. the woman had never met the owner of her heart, but she's sure in her gut that this previous owner sure has something to do with why she was who she was.
her abilities, her convictions, her memories. how much of it was her own and how much of it belonged to that other person? the line had been blurred for so long, she wasn't even sure where the truth lied anymore.
agnes
what? what was that?
it was a small voice in the woman's head. calm and tired, unlike anything she'd heard before. somehow, she knew just who it was. she's waited her whole life for that voice, that answer she once desperately looked for.
ag..nes…
the woman repeats the name under her breath. and the spherical room falls silent. the wings all snapped their heads in her direction, all eighteen golden eyes stared down at her intently. it was as though they wanted to drown her in their bright abyss. they know something, and from the looks of it, she wasn't meant to know about whatever it was.
how do you-!
who told you about her?
i've always known something was off about you!
thief! thief!
the brief silence broke into a myriad of accusatory voices all coming at her like daggers, it's blades sinking and embedding itself into her very spirit. she was only a child when she gained these abilities, with no one to lean on or tell her what she was supposed to do and yet all this time there were nine others like her and even the original tenth one who were all gawking at her amateur attempts, none of whom ever had the mind to reach out a had to help her. much less talk about protecting her from all that she went through.
they aren't human, after all.
not like she couldn't say the same of herself.
silence, everyone.
the first wing commanded, and all was still again.
with slow, calculated movements, the first leaves their seat, coming up towards the woman. as they took a step forward, she took one back, one foot behind the other until she was sure she was going to tilt off the edge of the floor and fall off into the bottom of the spherical room.
i think…
the first starts, their voice low and grim.
i think, that we should take agnes back. and put her back into her rightful place.
agreements from the other eight came back like ringing church bells, as though they've all came to a divine conclusion. yes, they said, we miss our dear agnes! oh how very much so!
and as for this… imposter we have here.
the first continues, their gaze locked onto hers, a deep pool of gold and a centre of a pure blue so unblemished and untainted by any other hues, and she looked past those eyes only to be met with the first unravelling mid-way into their true form — six pure white wings emerging from their back, a halo of cross-shaped daggers with the hilt of eyes all blinking and widening as the multitude of fragmented reflections of her figure stared back at her and it's tri-coloured rings were hypnotising; blue-red-gold blue-red-gold blue-red-gold blue-red-gold blue-red-gold blue-red-gold blue-red-gold blue-
her heel drops over the edge.
and the first wing places the tips of their fingers on her chest. with a twist of their wrist, she sees their hand, then forearm and then all the way to their elbow enter impossibly deep into whatever crevices of her so-called body, trying and reaching for something inside of her.
ah. there it is.
just like that, the first takes their hand out and lays it on her chest. a soft pressure at first grows into a harder push, and she finds herself trying not to fall over the edge.
as the oldest wing pushed her backwards further from safety and into an endless abyss, she feels something deep within her crack apart. two perfect halves — each an incomplete soul. the saintly wings finally managed to push her over the edge, and for the first time she sees her husk. it's wings restored to it's glory and carried into the other nine saints arms.
rejoice! they sing. for the true tenth wing hath returned to thine holiness' arms!
she thinks as she falls past the skies, that when the saints cast the physical manifestation of her humanity out of the cradle of her god's service, they had already begun to walk on to a path beyond salvation. though she cannot think of the reason why. well, the chosen tenth kept her infinite wisdom while she picked up the scraps of her morality. the tenth had kindness, she was given apathy. the tenth will live on forever, and she…
she'll have to see when she gets into a body of her own.
her fall from heavens grace was supposed to be terrifying and painful. and yet she has landed on a field of blooming wildflowers. a tiny bundle, swaddled tightly to protect herself from the cold spring air. she realised her new form was not yet old enough to fend for itself. has she been abandoned?
the small body that had yet to know it's own name feels it's little heart well up in incredible sadness — fat tears escape the infant's eyes as it cries out, unable to vocalise the words they wanted to say.
a familiar scent wafts past it's nose. no. the scent was overpowering, it surrounded the helpless little bundle. the halved soul of the former officer knew this smell better then anyone. what bad luck.
turning it's head to the side, the little baby's eyes saw a woman lying next to them on the fields.
mom…?
the words felt foreign. but this woman was no doubt the mother of this body. how long have they both been lying in those fields for the woman's corpse to start decomposing? if it had been that long, then… the original owner of this child's body… oh. it was too heavy a revelation for a newly reincarnated person like her to bear.
and thus her second life came to be.
