- An Aqui -

  At first, An could her see nor hear anything. In those initial days—if they could even be called days—it was as though he were submerged in a deep, dark o where nothied. Not even time seemed to pass; perhaps he wasn't even aware of its passage. It was a void, a bnk expanse where his sciousness floated aimlessly, uhered to reality.

  But gradually, over an ierminate span that could have been days or weeks, distant echoes began to reach him. Fragments of perception seeped in like tiny cracks f in the surface of gss, allowing slivers of light to pierce the darkness. The sounds from the world above started to echo in the depths of his mind—muffled voices, soft weeping—but he couldn't dis who they beloo or why they resonated with such sorrow.

  More time slipped by. Days blended into weeks, weeks into months. An had no cept of how long he had been adrift in this abyss. Then, one day, a blinding light shattered the darkness—so inte was like staring directly into a sun after ay of night.

  He felt his eyelids tremble, heavy as if they had never moved before. Sounds began to coalesto waves of fusion: muffled voices, the irregur beeping of monitors, a persistent buzzing that seemed to emanate from within his own head. Sensations flooded back—the first hints of physicality anch him to his body rather than the endless sea of emptiness.

  An sensed he was ba his own flesh, no longer lost in the void. He willed his arm to move, but it remaiubbornly still, devoid of strength. He tried to speak, but no sound escaped his lips. His body rison of flesh and borapping him between dreams ay—a state both alien and hauntingly familiar.

  But he refused to surrender. An would not accept fi. His mind grappled with the scattered pieces of his memory, attempting to assemble a puzzle where none of the parts seemed to fit: ‘Where am I? Who am I? How much time has passed?’

  Then, like a thundercp, reality burst through the fog. Sensations sharpehe feel of sheets against his skin, the sterile st of the room, the unfortable tug of tubes and needles invading his body. His heart raced, not from physical exertion but from a primal instinct shouting from deep within: ‘You are alive. Wake up. Fight!’

  Summoning every ounce of willpower, An forced his heavy eyelids to part. Slowly, painfully, but enough to let slivers of light filter in. The world around him came into blurry focus—a mosaic of shapes and colors that gradually sharpened. He had emerged from the abyss bato a reality that was both familiar and utterly ged.

  At st, An had opened his eyes.

  At first, his vision was blurred, but he could make out a figure beside him: someoh short bck hair, a weary face, and eyes brimming with tears. He didn't o think hard tnize his sister.

  She eaking, but the words were muffled, almost unintelligible.

  "I'm sorry, An... but I 't make this decision alone," Sophie Aqui said, cradling her brother's face gently.

  An tried to muster the strength to respond, but his throat was dry, and no sound came out. The most he could manage was a slow blink. Even staying scious was a struggle.

  His eyes roamed the room, aiced other medical personnel alongside his sister. One of them approached his bedside, passing a ser over him, the device emitting soft beeps and fshes.

  For the first time in what felt like ages, An had a coherent thought: ‘So, I'm no longer on GL581.’ Simple as it was, the realization began to stir his memories, helping him recall what had happened.

  As he endeavored to piece together the events—the attack, the blinding pain—one of the doctors spoke nearby.

  "Speaking will be difficult for now, but you blink your eyes?" the doctor asked.

  An blinked once.

  "Good. I o test ynitive abilities. It will be basic for now. Do you know who you are? Blink once for yes and twice for no."

  An blinked once.

  "Do you remember what happeo you?" the doctor inquired.

  An paused before blinking twice.

  "All right. I'll try to expin a few things," the daailing how An had been found and the initial state of his body.

  An listened, recalling the attack. It was a surprise he'd survived at all.

  "However, even after using the VAT, we had to keep you in a a. The Orks have developed a ype of virus that lingers on their ons. It's capable of terag the VAT's effects and gradually ing the victim," the doctor expined.

  ‘They must have found a cure if they've awakened me,’ An thought, a flicker of hope stirring within him, though his face remained impassive.

  "Unfortunately, we don't yet have a cure for the virus. For now, we're calling it ORK-X01. But we have a temporary option that would allow you to live a retively normal life," the doctor tihough An sensed a strained optimism in his tone. "However, to make this work, we o remove all the ied areas. They 't be regeed using the VAT, which is why we you back to sciousness."

  At that moment, Sophie began to sob quietly beside him.

  "We would o amputate both of ys. You could use robotic prosthetics, but they 't be regeed. Only then we keep the virus at bay and allow you to stay awake. Your sister couldn't make this decision for you, so we o ask you directly," the doctor said gently.

  An pondered for a moment. Though he couldn't express it, he didn't want to return to the darkness. That was his greatest fear now—to lose the sciousness he had finally regained.

  Without hesitation, he blinked once.

  "Are you certain? It's an experimental treatment," the doctor pressed.

  Again, An blinked once.

  "Very well. We'll proceed immediately," the doctor affirmed, nodding to the medical team.

  Sophie walked alongside the gurears silently trag paths down her cheeks as she g tightly to her brother's hand. Even as An was wheeled into the surgical ter, she refused to let go, her grip firm—a lifeline anch him to the world.

  An's mind drifted in and out of a hazy fog. His thoughts were fragmented, cutting in and out like stati a broken transmission. Fshes ht lights, ss of muffled versations, the cold touetal instruments—all blurred together. He remembered the prick of a needle, the sensation of a sedative pulling him bader.

  When he finally resurfaced, he was ba his room. The sterile white walls greeted him, monitors beeped softly in the background, and the faint hum of medical equipment filled the air. Sophie's face hovered above him, her eyes red-rimmed but calmer now, the tracks of her earlier tears fading. He had no idea how much time had passed sihe surgery or how long he had been fio this bed.

  Questions swirled in his mind, muddled and persistent. How were Oliver and Isabe? Had they made it out alive from that harrowing ordeal? Memories of the mission flooded back—the chaos, the onsught of the Ork attack. He wondered if his friends had fared better than he had, hoped they hadn't suffered simir fates.

  Days turned into weeks as An regairength, each small victory hard-won. The simple aoving his fingers required intense tration, and his voice, when it finally returned, was raspy and weak. Relearning to walk was the greatest challenge of all. His new robotic legs—sleek yet alien—responded sluggishly at first. Every step was a deliberate effort, a reminder of what he'd lost and what he had yet tain.

  Oernoon, as he painstakingly practiced walking along the parallel bars in his room, a holographic proje caught his eye. Sophie was seated nearby, watg the dispy ily. The image showed a massive arena that resembled a futuristic battleground. A young man moved slowly amoivated robots, their metallis casting long shadows uhe arena lights.

  "O-Oliver?" An's voice was barely above a whisper.

  Sophie turned, surprised. "Ah! You're watg too?" she said softly. "They came to visit you just before the dgested the surgery. Sorry, I didn't know if I should tell you or not, especially since you're still rec."

  "H-how are they?" An asked, his throat tightening.

  "They were worried about you," Sophie replied. "Oliver is trying to secure a spot to bee a Ranger."

  "They're broadcasting it?" he asked, a mixture of hope and envy creeping into his voice.

  "Yes, for the first time. It seems he's doing well." She offered a small, encing smile.

  A a heavy knot f in his chest. While his friends advanced, pushing forward in their ambitions, he was left behihered to hospital rooms and rehabilitation sessions. He didn't bme them; it wasn't their fault. But he couldn't shake the feeling that he was bei in the shadows. Regret g him. From the beginning, he hadn't taken the Academy as seriously as he should have. His pacifist ideals, while noble, had perhaps made him pt. He woe at night, if his reluce to engage had put his friends in danger.

  "That's... great," he said, f a smile that didn't reach his eyes. Deep ihe desire to be out there with them burned fiercely.

  But that path seemed closed to him now. He gnced down at his meical legs—wondrous feats of engineeriark reminders of his limitations. With these, the ces of joining a Ranger division were slim to he Rangers demanded peak physical dition, and though teology had advanced, prejudice against augmented soldiers lingered.

  His thoughts were interrupted by the quiet hiss of the door sliding open. A ered, carrying a tray with a syringe poised atop it.

  "Your iion is ready," she announced gently.

  Auro his bed, the momentary distra fading. The nurse approached and began the routine procedure. The VAT iions were a daily need, a way to keep the Ork virus fring his system. As the serum entered his bloodstream, a familiar burn spread through his veins, momentarily overwhelming his senses.

  In that searing moment, a resolve crystallized in his mind. Perhaps the Rangers were out of reach, but there were other paths. Paths where his new dition might not be a hindra an asset.

  "Sophie," he began quietly after the nurse had left, his eyes meeting his sister's. "I o talk to Dad. I want him to pull some strings so I get into the Officers' Academy."

  She blinked, surprised. "Are you sure about this?" tinged her voice. "You've just started rec, and the stress—"

  "I'm sure," An interrupted, his tone firm despite the lingering weakness. "The Mecha Pilot Corps. That's where I o be."

  GCLopes