Free Web NovelPavel woke up from the darkness.
No, rather than "waking up," it was more like being dragged from one nightmare into another.
A deafening explosion startled her awake.
Her head felt as if it were stuffed with cotton, buzzing as if someone had struck it with a hammer.
Every inch of her body ached—that familiar, lingering pain.
But she was already used to this feeling.
So used to it that she could almost ignore it.
Dazed, she rolled over.
Every muscle screamed in protest, but she ignored them.
She tried to prop herself up, but her arms were as limp as if they had no bones.
Her head wobbled, and the world before her was a blurry darkness.
Where was she?
What had happened?
Where was her mecha?
Where was the battle?
Memories came flooding back in scattered fragments.
The warehouse.
The Order.
The battle.
That... that knight in the ornate armor.
Then... then there was pain.
Endless pain.
She remembered blood.
So much blood.
She remembered screams.
Countless screams.
And then...
Was she dead?
No.
She could still feel pain.
Dead people shouldn't feel pain.
So she was still alive.
Pavel's eyes finally began to adjust to the darkness.
She saw a space built of stone.
A basement?
She saw a faint light filtering in from the entrance.
Firelight.
Or was it moonlight?
She saw a military Greatcoat covering her.
She didn't remember owning such a coat.
Then, she saw that person.
A woman.
Sitting against the wall, leaning on a Sword.
Wearing a tattered military uniform.
Her leg was wrapped in bandages, through which dark red blood seeped.
There was an emblem on her clothes.
A Double-headed Eagle with spread wings.
Golden.
It still shimmered in the dim light.
The symbol of the Victorian Empire.
"..."
Pavel's brain stalled for a second.
Then, a thought rose in her mind.
Dammit, I'm finished.
I'd have been better off dying back then.
...
A deafening explosion rang out nearby, causing the entire basement to shake violently.
Eleanor suddenly gripped her Sword, looking toward the entrance warily.
But no one burst in.
It was just another round of shelling.
She breathed a sigh of relief ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) and was about to lean back against the wall—
—when she heard a rustling sound.
Eleanor turned her head and saw the girl moving.
Dazed, the girl rolled over and struggled to crawl up from the ground like a wounded animal.
Her movements were stiff and slow, every joint screaming in silent protest.
The girl shook her head, her short silver hair covered in dust and dried blood.
Then, she looked up.
Those eyes—
Pale, weary, and carrying an indefinable sharpness—
—met Eleanor's gaze.
Eleanor saw the girl's gaze slide from her face down to the insignia on her chest.
It was the emblem of the Royal Order of the Victorian Empire.
Black with a gold border, featuring a golden Double-headed Eagle with spread wings in the center.
The girl's pupils contracted sharply.
Her body froze.
Eleanor could clearly see the shifts in her expression—first blankness, then confusion, followed by the panic of realization, and finally...
Finally, a sort of desperate resignation.
That expression made Eleanor feel inexplicably uncomfortable.
It was an "Ah, so that's how it is" look.
It was an "I knew nothing good would happen" look.
It was a look... of someone already accustomed to being toyed with by fate.
The girl didn't scream, didn't struggle, and didn't even try to run.
She just sat there quietly, looking at Eleanor with a gaze that was calmly numb.
As if awaiting sentencing.
Eleanor opened her mouth, wanting to say something.
But before she could speak, the girl spoke first.
It was a raspy, weak voice:
"...So, what do you intend to do with me?"
No fear.
No pleading.
Only a strange, weary composure.
As if she had long been prepared for any outcome.
Eleanor blinked.
She had originally thought the other would cry, scream, or try to run—
Even if she was an enemy, she was just a fifteen or sixteen-year-old child, after all.
But this girl's reaction...
Was nothing like a child's. ƒгeewebnovёl.com
"Or you could just kill me."
The girl lay back down, her voice flat.
"But if possible, could you make it quick? I've had enough for one day."
Eleanor stared at her for a long time.
Then she smiled.
"...What are you laughing at?"
The girl frowned, a hint of wariness flashing in her eyes.
"Nothing."
Eleanor shook her head and sheathed her Sword.
"I just think... you're not quite what I imagined."
She leaned back against the wall, continuing to study the girl before her.
"If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it while you were unconscious."
The girl also blinked, seemingly processing the meaning of those words.
"...Then what do you want?"
"Good question."
Eleanor laughed self-deprecatingly.
"To be honest, I don't know myself."
