Chapter 1
16 November 2034. London, England.
I had forgotten what it felt like to breathe. I had forgotten the sound of my own heart beating, of glass breaking, of gunshots in the distance and of birds flapping their wings and whistling in unison with the icy wind. All of this tore me out of what, for me, had been a long and wonderful dream. I had forgotten pain, too, but now it surged through me with such intensity that it brought me back to reality like a brutal slap in the face.
I could barely lift my head; every movement was an ordeal as if the vertebrae in my neck crackled with the slightest tension. My vision was blurred and my hearing was impaired; sounds came muffled and distorted. But I could feel something on my torso. It was sticky and warm, contrasting with the icy snow that was beginning to accumulate on my body.
Blood. It was blood. My blood. I could see it soaking my clothes and staining the white snow a vibrant red, which seemed to be an insult to the purity of the landscape. Slowly, I began to move my hand; my stiff, numb fingers barely responded. I brought it to the wound that burned with merciless fury. As I touched it, I confirmed my worst fears: the wound was deep and wouldn't stop bleeding.
I could feel blood sliding down my tongue and into my throat, creating a thick, metallic taste that made me cough and spill more blood onto the snow. The ground was freezing, as if death itself was embracing me. I think it was snowing, but I couldn't tell for sure — my vision was blurred.
I tried to stand up, but it was useless. My legs were unresponsive; my body refused to obey my commands. Everything in me was frozen and weak. A distant sound broke the silence. A voice. At first it was strange and undecipherable, but it spoke to me urgently, telling me to get up.
I didn't know where it was coming from. Was it real, or just a hallucination brought on by blood loss? I tried to look around, but I could only see shadows and rubbish bags piled up around me. The smell was repugnant and acrid — a stench that could not be mistaken for ordinary rubbish. I shuddered at the thought of what could be inside those bags.
A different voice interrupted my thoughts. It was sweet and sharp, but tinged with fear. Through the haze of my vision, I saw a small figure kneel in front of me and push the bags aside awkwardly to get closer. It stared at me with wide, horrified eyes and spoke to me in hushed whispers.
"Wh-What happened to you? Who did this to you...? Was it them?"
I couldn't answer, my throat burning with each attempt to speak, more blood bubbling to my lips with every word. The girl —she couldn't have been more than fifteen— was trying to lift me up with all her might. I could see her grimacing and panting as she struggled to drag me up.
"I can't... I can't do it on my own..." She mumbled, almost in tears, as she struggled again and again without success.
My body was like dead weight and she was too small to support me. I wondered why she was alone in such a place, surrounded by rubbish bags that smelled of death. But, above all, I wondered why she kept trying to help me when it seemed impossible.
"Don't die, please?" Her voice broke, and I could see her tears streaming down my face.
I wanted to tell her not to cry and that everything would be OK, but I knew that would be a lie. At that moment, there was nothing to suggest that I would survive. However, the fact that someone was there trying to save me made me feel something beyond pain and hopelessness. I am still alive.
She asked me to wait for her and to hold on for as long as I could while she ran out of the alley. My breathing hurt more and more and my vision was becoming more and more blurred. I really felt like I was about to die; time was passing too slowly, and every second felt like an eternity.
I could feel my body slowly shutting down; each heartbeat rumbled in my chest like a distant drum, growing fainter and fainter. I became aware of how cloudy it was; hardly any sunbeams were passing through the clouds and the surroundings looked very dark, even though it was daytime.
The cold ground penetrated my bones and I was completely numb. I tried to keep my eyes open, fighting against the weight of my eyelids that were dragging me into an abyss of eternal sleep. Just as I was beginning to close my eyes, I could hear footsteps again. The crunch of snow under my boots echoed like warning bells.
Two silhouettes were approaching me: a tall, slender figure and a smaller figure walking awkwardly, almost running to keep up with the first. I could hear two voices approaching: a female voice and a male voice. The latter sounded like a child's voice, broken by worry.
"Who is he?" The woman asked, her voice soft but laden with alarm.
"I have no idea, but we need to get him to the shelter as soon as possible so that Yoshino can cure him." the boy replied, breathing heavily.
Yoshino...? Who are you? Do you know me? Why would they help me? My thoughts were a confused swirl, slowly dissipating as if my consciousness was fading with every word I heard. I tried to stay awake, but everything went dark, this time for good.
There was nothing, just emptiness. However, in the middle of that darkness, I could hear voices. Another voice, different from the previous ones, but strangely familiar. I didn't know why, but something about it made me shudder.
"Akizuki..." The voice whispered, repeating itself in an endless cycle.
Akizuki —is that my name? I don't remember anything; my whole mind is a blank. No matter how hard I try, I can't remember anything. I can't remember anything. But I've heard those laughs ringing in my subconscious over and over again, echoing like warning bells or an echo of a forgotten past. Whose are they...? Why do I feel like they're following me, even in my dreams?
I stood up abruptly, my eyes snapping open. I was panting and my heart was beating frantically in my chest. This drew the attention of the doctor who was examining me. I was in what appeared to be a shelter, surrounded by wooden walls, which created a warm atmosphere that contrasted sharply with the cold of the alley outside.
All around me were piles of beds filled with people who, like me, were receiving treatment. The air was filled with the sounds of coughing, murmuring and hurried footsteps, but the only thing I could hear clearly was my own agitated breathing.
"Are you all right?" asked the man in the white coat. A mixture of surprise and relief was evident on his face as he pushed the bandages aside.
I tried to answer, but I couldn't find the words. I slowly uncovered myself, feeling my trembling fingers touch the rough fabric of the sheets. I needed to see my wound, to check if it was still there. But, to my surprise, there was nothing. Nothing. The wound had closed and the skin was intact, as if it had never existed. I ran my fingers over the area where I had felt the knife pierce me, finding only smooth, cold skin.
"What... what did they do to me?" I muttered hoarsely, unable to look away from my torso.
The doctor frowned and crossed his arms.
'He brought you a girl... Yoshino, do you know her?" He said. "She found you in an alley, on the verge of death. You shouldn't still be alive, but your body healed completely overnight. The girl's power is fascinating."
Power? No, there was nothing fascinating about it. There was just something very wrong with me. It was something I didn't understand and couldn't remember. But the feeling that someone or something was watching me from the shadows remained, lodged in my mind like a thorn.
"Akizuki..." The voice echoed in my head again, dragging me back into the abyss of uncertainty.
I stood up and wobbled for a few seconds before regaining my balance. I needed to know who Yoshino was, and who had saved me. The doctor tried to stop me, saying that he had not yet finished assessing my blood pressure, but I ignored him. My urgent need to understand where I was —and who I was— outweighed any warnings.
I stepped out of the long room into an even larger one. The air was warm and filled with the faint aromas of burning wood and freshly baked bread. Several enormous tables, each at least ten metres long, filled the space. They were all set with dozens of elegant chairs, arranged as if waiting for guests who would never arrive. Women and children filled the room; the children's innocent laughter contrasting with the desolation I had remembered from outside.
To one side, I could see a small kitchen with a makeshift stove; some women were stirring large pots while talking in low voices. In one corner, beyond them, was a makeshift greenhouse made of old glass windows and recycled wood.
I approached it slowly and watched a dark-skinned, dark-haired woman examining the plants intently. I raised an eyebrow in confusion just as she touched the ground with her open palms. I watched in amazement as a stem sprouted and grew in a matter of seconds, unfurling green leaves that glistened in the dim light coming through the cracks in the ceiling.
"How does she do it?" I whispered to myself, feeling a pressure in my chest as if something inside me recognised that ability.
My thoughts were abruptly interrupted when I felt a finger touch my back. I turned around immediately, adopting a defensive stance with my fists raised, my reaction instinctive. The girl with golden curls and blue eyes who had met me in the alleyway backed away in fright, her hands raised and her lips trembling.
"I-I'm sorry!" She stammered, her voice trembling.
I immediately dropped my arms, feeling guilty for reacting like that. Leaning slightly towards her in apology, I recognised that she was the same girl who had tried to help me unsuccessfully.
"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to startle you" I said, surprised to hear myself speak, my voice a little raspy. It was the first time I had spoken out loud since waking up.
The girl swallowed, and after a few seconds she smiled shyly and waved at me. She was so small that I had to tilt my head to look her in the eye.
'You're awake... What a relief” she whispered, his voice sweet yet weary. “You must be confused about where you are.”
I nodded slowly. Of course I was confused; every fibre of my being was crying out for answers that I didn't have. She seemed to understand. After taking a deep breath, she sat up a little straighter, as if she wanted to appear stronger than her small frame would allow.
"My name is Yoshino... Yoshino Hoshikawa" she said with a certain pride. “I know my name makes me sound Japanese, but I was born here in England."
England. England? Was I in England? My chest heaved and I put a hand to my forehead, trying to find some memory that would confirm that information, but I was met with darkness.
"I too... My name is Akizuki" I muttered, feeling my own voice grow more distant.
Yoshino cocked his head curiously and took a step forward.
"Akizuki? Are you Japanese, then?" She asked, his eyes wide.
I opened my mouth to answer, but no words came out. I didn't know. I didn't know where I came from, or why I had that name. All I had was a wound that had miraculously disappeared, and a tight feeling in my chest that told me something was very wrong.
Yoshino noticed my distress and, without hesitation, took my hand in his small, cold fingers.
"Don't worry" she whispered. "We'll help you remember."
But... What if remembering was the worst thing that could happen to me?
"It's nice to meet you" said Yoshino, smiling warmly, though his eyes reflected concern. "You probably don't remember much because you were so badly injured. I think the blood loss left you disoriented too. On the way here, Teka accidentally dropped you and you hit the back of your head."
Teka? Was he one of the people who came after me? I shook my head slightly, feeling a little dizzy, but kept my composure.
"Where are we?" I asked hoarsely, my throat still sore.
Yoshino started pacing as he spoke, playing with his fingers.
"This is the 'Be Live' shelter" she explained. "You were lucky to pass out right in the alley off to the side. I used to go there to drop off the rubbish; that's how I found you."
My mind immediately flashed back to the huge bags that smelled like rotting meat. I frowned, feeling a pang of discomfort run down my back.
"Do you leave those big bags there?" I asked cautiously.
"No, no, no, no! We have nothing to do with that” she said vehemently, his voice trembling slightly. “It's the conservatives who do that.”
"Conservatives?" I repeated, my voice laden with confusion.
The girl looked at me in disbelief, as if she couldn't believe that I didn't know that term. She fell silent for a few seconds, watching me carefully as though trying to work out whether I was pulling her leg. Finally, she sighed and continued speaking.
"It's the bad soldiers" she said, lowering her voice as if she feared someone might hear her. "They want to take over England now that there are no kings."
My eyebrows furrowed and I felt as if my head was going to explode with all the questions I had.
"What do you mean, there are no kings?" I asked, disbelief permeating every word.
Yoshino stepped closer to me, her eyes shining with curiosity and concern. Gently, she reached out and touched my forehead with his thin, cool fingers.
"Did you hit yourself so hard that you forgot even that?" She whispered.
I gently took her hand and pulled it away gently. I knelt down to her level and searched his eyes desperately, trying to convey how lost I felt.
"I don't remember anything" I confessed, feeling a lump in my throat. "When I say nothing, it's nothing... I barely know my own name — I only know it because I heard it in my mind. I don't know what I'm doing in England. I don't know what's going on now. I don't even know who I am.”
Yoshino watched me in silence, his lips trembling as he took in my words. Finally, determination filled his eyes, and he took a deep breath as if he had made an important decision.
"It's all right" she said firmly. "I'll tell you everything I know."
Yoshino took a seat at the long table he had mentioned earlier and patted the seat next to him, clearly inviting me to sit down. I hesitated for a moment, aware of the gravity of the situation, but I finally moved over and sank into the chair. The wood creaked slightly under my weight and I found myself rubbing my hands against my knees, eager to hear what the girl had to tell me.
She sighed deeply, her small shoulders rising and falling slowly as she mentally prepared herself to recount a story she had told far too many times in her short life.
"Several years ago, specifically in 2022..." She began, lowering his gaze to his clasped hands. "Russia started World War III by deciding to invade Ukraine. This led to other powers getting involved, and tensions rose to a point of no return. Russia, China, and North Korea formed an alliance, leaving the other countries with no choice but to join forces and fight them."
I frowned, trying to find a fragment of memory to help me understand, but I found only a void. I did not know where Ukraine was, nor why these nations would unleash such a great conflict. Yoshino continued to speak in a serene voice, but sadness seeped into every pause.
"The war dragged on for several years, and it all ended when Russia dropped a nuclear weapon directly on the United States. The United States responded with an even more powerful bomb, and then the other countries did the same. Bombs fell everywhere, one after another, until the world was in ruins. The sky turned grey, the air was filled with dust and radiation, and cities were reduced to rubble."
I felt a lump in my throat. The idea of a world destroyed by humanity itself was both terrifying and absurd. Why would they have gone to such lengths? What was the point of ending it all like that?
"And how many people survived?" My voice was barely a whisper.
"Less than ten per cent of the world's population" she whispered. "Of eight billion, we are now down to less than a billion."
I felt my stomach drop. The number was overwhelming, inhuman. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to take it in, but images of piles of corpses and devastated cities flooded my mind. When I opened my eyes again, Yoshino was still talking, his gaze fixed on the table.
"I was born when the war had already begun, when the Earth was already dying... I have never seen green grass or a blue sky. I only know what they look like from books, photos and paintings left over from before the disaster. For me, the world has always been grey and silent."
It hurt to hear that. No one, least of all a girl who spoke with such gentleness and bravery, should have to grow up in such a place. But the most shocking revelation was still to come:
"After the bombs, radiation spread everywhere. The air, the water and the soil were all contaminated. Most of the survivors died within the first few years, while those who survived... changed." She looked me straight in the eye, her expression serious. "Some mutated and developed strange abilities, as if they had stepped out of a comic book."
I remained silent, processing every word in disbelief. A destroyed world, people with superpowers and fewer than a billion humans alive? Was it possible that something like this was real? And me? Where had I been all that time? Did I have family? Friends? Was anyone looking for me?
I put my hands to my head and breathed heavily as question after question piled up in my mind. Who was I in all this? And why couldn't I remember anything?
"Are you seriously saying they have superpowers?" I asked incredulously, staring at her as I tried to process her words.
Yoshino nodded seriously, her gaze neither wavering nor showing any sign that she was joking.
"Everyone in the shelter has one" she said, crossing her arms over her small chest. "Some aren't much use, but some are very useful, like mine."
His face broke into a huge smile and his eyes sparkled with a mixture of pride and childlike joy, which contrasted with the devastation of the world he had described to me moments before.
"I can heal wounds" she said enthusiastically, leaning forward slightly. "In fact, I healed you when I found you."
I watched her silently, trying to detect any hint of a lie or exaggeration, but her words echoed in my head with crushing force. The wound that should have taken days, or even weeks, to heal had disappeared overnight. There was no trace of pain, and no sign of the wound beyond the dried blood on my clothes. Besides which, I remembered the girl who had grown a plant from nothing, with no soil or visible seeds. Could it be true? Did they really have powers? And if so, would I have any?
Yoshino looked down and her smile suddenly faded.
“But I can't cure illness” she whispered, her voice carrying a hint of sadness. "I can't heal myself either."
Seeing her like that, so fragile yet so strong, I felt a lump in my throat. Before I could say anything, the ground shook beneath our feet with unexpected violence. An explosion echoed in the distance, shaking the walls of the shelter and sending several objects crashing to the ground. The roar was so loud that my ears were ringing and my heart was hammering against my chest. My first instinct was to stand up alert.
"What was that?" I cried out, running to the nearest window to try to see what was going on outside.
