Anamnesis: Queen of the Apocalypse - Chapter 7

Neamh, 14,025 AD. Now you’re in the world where Humanity has taken their last straw in the hinge of the broken catastrophe. Without knowing the exact years, the Earth had been attacked by an enigma of a celestial. Countless divine angels of destruction rain upon the Earth as giant monsters raised from mother nature’s womb. It was still unknown how humanity survived.

On the other hand, there have been many changes especially in the society running the gear. After 10,000 years, the Earth is now labeled as Neamh, and pure humans were deemed as sacred royalty. Although currently there have been only 56 pure humans and 10 big families. The rest of the Neamh’s dweller are either an undying walking destruction, wanderless Angel, and numerous humanoids whose ancestors are the byproduct of bioengineering.

Thousand years passed—comes Ethera Mana, one of the surviving humans who revolutionized the use of meta-physical energy that she labeled as Mana, drastically impacting the civilization with only 8% of the world’s domain where everything is occupied with literal destruction, keeping the torch alive.

Or so that is what you can make sense of Chronos’s words.

“And then it goes Kaboooom~”

“I can’t count more on how many times you have said that.”

Without the IV infusion on your left arm, you’re currently using the other hand to consume an unknown spicy bread—weirdly shaped but you couldn’t care less.

“So what is the deal with the Vagant thingy association stuff?” You say.

Munching her own snacks, she sits beside you on the edge of the bedside. “Vagant is just a name of someone who says ‘fuck it’ when those gnarly things we call Calamity killed his wife, his son, his daughter, his grandkids, his second wife, his ex-wife—”

“Gosh, how long does this guy live?”

“Around a couple of hundred years, and then he got skewered by an Angel.”

“So he is the one who made this organization?”

“Nah, it was his fifth wife who made the association.”

“This is confusing.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

After a while, you notice your liquid-mana infusion’s pack is empty. All of the mana is currently cycling and permeating your blood. It is astonishing that your body is autonomously processing the raw mana after you’ve done it the first time, albeit at a tremendously slower pace—processing the same phallus-shaped mana for two hours.

She then takes out another big bag of jerkies, “The association is one of the prominent firepower for all of the races to survive, you can say that they deal with the dangerous stuff.”

“And what is all the department is for?”

“There are six departments in total: Engineering, Assailant, Coalition, Scout, Research, and Guardian. All of the department names are self explanatory, unless your memory loss makes you forget what spicy bread is. But alas, your old self is always insisting me to keep a low profile within Scout-dept for a reason you haven’t told yet.” She then takes a sip from her drinking-flask.

“Sorry?”

“Pwuah!” The content of the flask seems enticing. “There are ranks within each department. Although they serve a different purpose and category, cause all of them use alphabetical orders for G as the lowest, then triple SSS as the highest, I don’t want to go into detail as I’m sure you already have more questions in mind.”

“I think that’s all for now.”

Chronos has finished her lunch, “You will recover in no time at this rate, and then we should converse on how to pay the debt for your treatment.” She then takes a handkerchief from one of her jacket’s pockets, wiping gently all of the sweats from her forehead.

Looking at her pale face, you anxiously ask, “H-how does my treatment cost?”

“Around 20,000 Kepler Coins.”

“H-how much 20,000 Kepler Coins worth?”

She is somehow wearing glasses, “100 KC is enough to make both of us survive for a month, we still had 2,400KC back then. I paid 2,300KC so now we only have the money to survive for only one month, and that isn’t the worst thing about this situation.”

“W-what is it?”

“Thuljas paid for our debts, and now we’re in debt with her.” She says while biting her thumb.

“Huh? Isn’t that a good thing?”

“No! Gah! You won’t understand!”

A moment of silence when Chronos is looking at her watch, throwing the glasses into the trash bin. She hurriedly packs up her stuff in haste, “Shit! I forgot to check the time!”

“Where are you going?”

“A side job.” She blushes. “I’ll come again later in the evening! In the meantime, you better cultivate and explore your Mana Sea! The faster you breakthrough the better!”

Without giving you a chance to say another word, Chronos disappears like a wind as she storms out from the room.

A few minutes later, someone’s knocking at the door, “Miss Longy, may I come in?”

It seems like someone had tempered your submitted name in this hospital.

Without hesitation, you reply, “Come in.”

The door’s open, revealing a shut-eyed young woman with a feline trait wearing nurse attire as she pushes a trolley filled with strange medical equipment. Somehow you feels a little bit light on your fatigue as soon as she gestures one of her hand into the ceiling

“Nya, so how are you feeling, Miss Longy?” The trolley then stops beside the bed. You can see a nametag on her right chest, spelled ‘Nonir’

“I’m good.” You smile.

She then checks many things about your condition using many instruments, treating the rough detaching of the IV infusion and also giving you some vitamins gummies as she moves away the packs from all of the infusion. You notice her change of expression when she sees the infusion mark Chronos had just pulled with no humane reasoning. Nonir bites her lower lip as her vein tightens like the world is nearing its doom. It might be you but it seems like this hospital deem their patients as rather important, unlike the one you’re brought to in your former life.

Nonir changes your hospital gown, it feels like a child again all over as you awkwardly watch her undress you while she handles your hygiene. Casually talking to you and asks all about yourself in a playful manner, she also explains how severe your condition was back then when you’re being sent into the emergency room.

You’re reconsidering your own status.

“All done! Anything else, Miss Longy?”

“If I may ask, how long will I reach full recovery?”

“Nya, don’t worry. After some therapy tomorrow you’ll be dismissed from your treatment.”

She then suggests you to rest as she abides you a farewell as you do so too, leaving you all alone unrestrained. Recalling your partner’s words, you decide to go into your mana sea once again and see how many processed mana you’ve accumulated.

Dry as ever, although you can see more small puddles than the first time. Once again you decide to create a new mana shape other than the phallus one.

“Let’s try some random patterns first.”

As you stretch your consciousness, you then try many patterns: Twisted elongated stick, three leaf clovers, a weird-looking cup, and many more.

Surprisingly, none of the processed value is stronger than the first shape you’ve created.

“The heck, all of the mana shape is weaker than a dick!?”

Before you know it, you have processed around 110 shapes of ready-to-use mana, plus 29 from your body autonomous converging.

All of them make up the blue dots you can see on the dry ground as far as your perception can reach, but something feels lacking. Is it because the mana is scattered away from each other? An experiment is a must! The beats of excitement filled your meta-physical joy with the act of ‘not knowing what the hell you’re doing’.

True to your consciousness, you can manifest your own body within the mana sea. Strangely, as you dig a plot of land for the container of your mana—with your hands of course. You can feel the dryness, the heat, and hardness of the soil, it’s like another world in itself. All things considered, with enough effort; the processed mana is now all clumped together within a big small pool. It’s the size of a medium living room, and either by luck or some quantum physics bullshit, it emits soothing waves more ever so as the soil near the pool begins to grow some patch of grass. There is also no sense of fatigue when you’re done.

After the trance, you are curious whether or not you can cast any miracle or something that you can deem as amazing.

And well, you still can’t do shit.

The raw mana within your blood has all been processed, leaving you nothing to do.

You then decide to rest, cuddling your small hands beneath the blanket as coldness permeates the room.

Void, the same empty space with nothing but darkness. It’s the same figure you saw in your first dream, this time her hair is purple instead of silver.

And her red eyes are staring at you with killing intent.