Discovery
The world I woke up to was buried deep in pristine white snow. I've always liked snow. Looking at that blank canvas of purity somehow calms the mind. I even thought that if I were reborn, a place like that wouldn't be so bad.... But God granted my wish in a twisted form. Guess this is what they call the monkey's paw.
"Damn bastard. Rotten god. Go rot in hell, you trash."
Muttering that every morning had become a habit. I used to avoid it, worried it'd jinx more bad luck, but now? Nothing scared me anymore. This place is my hell.
A rickety factory straining against the brutal cold just to keep running. Military trucks loaded with weapons, soldiers with rifles slung over their shoulders. Villagers trudging through the snowfields with dark, hollow eyes. That's the sight I see every day. It's holding for now, but I know it could crumble any moment. What happens to me if it does? Should I pray desperately for a third chance? Beg for a better world next time...? Nah, that still terrifies me.
Lost in these pointless thoughts, I realized I was truly an unhappy soul surviving in this godforsaken world.
Crossing endless snowfields for so long, I drifted into old memories without realizing. Can't doze off while driving. Weather looks fine—maybe a quick break.
I cut the engine and blew warm air on my gloved hands. Exhaling a frosty breath, I turned to the back.
"Hope, let's rest here a bit."
"Whoa! Unnie, look at this! The snow's sooo clean! Can I play over there?"
I swear, snow's all she sees every day—how's it still so exciting? Kids' minds are a mystery.
"Sure, but don't go far. Stay where I can see you."
"Gonna make a snowman! Like the animals you read to me before—suuuper lots of them~!"
The little girl in the back seat, her bulletproof helmet shoved down snug, hopped out with a bounce. She dashed into the snow, scooping and packing snowballs. Hope's an abandoned kid. Common in this world. She's been with me since she was babbling, family now. Ten years old? Something like that. Come to think of it, how old am I? Nineteen? Twenty? Dates mean nothing here; it's all a blur.
"Haaa."
A deep breath sent a plume of white mist into the air. Turning my head, endless snow plains stretched out, jagged rebar skeletons piercing through. Far off, a faint silhouette of a metropolis. That's our destination. Ideally, we'd cut straight across, but those steel heaps block the way—we'll have to detour. Forcing through risks snagging debris and wrecking the treads. Disaster.
Ahh, on a day like this, steaming pork soup rice would hit the spot. Fish cake stew too. Chase it with a shot of soju... now that's happiness.
Thinking of foods I'll never taste again brings a heavy loneliness crashing down. City lights. Friday night beer and chicken. Forum lurking, gallery scrolling... Those little daily joys are now shattered memories.
Reborn as a pretty girl? Big deal in this ruined world. No streams to film anyway. In novels, they get cheats and thrive. Why am I stuck like this?
Decades ago, I was an ordinary young guy living decently in a peaceful world. Then one accident ruined it all. Reincarnated as a girl in an eternal winter post-apocalypse. No cheats, nothing.
Life's such bullshit. Fuck...
Is this punishment for joking with friends over drinks about the world ending?
"Unnie! Unniiiie! Look, I finished!"
Her cheerful shout snapped me back. Hope puffed out her chest, pretending to wipe sweat from her brow. Beside her stood a row of... snowmen?
"Now I'll introduce my snowmen! First one's Axe."
...Rabbit, obviously. I swallow the correction and listen quietly. Must be from last night's animal stories. Haha. She tried hard, but zero resemblance. Still, I'm not the heartless type to crush a kid's effort. A proper adult would...
"Not bad at all. You made these? Identical to the ones in the book."
"Right? Totally the same!"
Praise sends her dancing. Flapping her arms, she bounces around, and I can't help but smile.
"Oh yeah! While making snowmen, I found something cool in the snow."
"Something cool?"
"Wait a sec."
She toddled off, dug in the snow, and returned hugging something, beaming proudly.
"This!"
"This is... a UFO?"
Precisely, a Broadcast Drone shaped like one. Antenna on top, monitor on the body—communications drone, probably. Looks intact, but buried in snow? Gotta be busted.
"Huh? Yoo-ef-oh? What's a UFO, Unnie?"
Her eyes sparkle with curiosity. Explaining UFOs means starting from space. Too much for a kid. Simplify...
"UFOs are... super rare birds that appear in the night sky. They eat the star candies up there."
Lame, but it'll do. Hope hugs the drone, fascinated, then looks up at me expectantly. That look... oh no.
"Can you fix it?"
"Hope, it's dead. No parts or blueprints here. Even I can't."
"But... leaving it feels sad."
Her bright smile fades; she hangs her head.
"You're good at everything, Unnie. Just look? Pleeease?"
Those teary eyes pleading—kids' requests are lethal. Guilt hits without lifting a finger. But impossible is impossible. Grateful she trusts me, but I'm no magician.
"Hope."
She's young but mature for this era. Knows it's a long shot, will back off without pushing. Scolding just breeds rebellion. Peace means compromise.
"Fine. I'll take a look."
"Really?!"
Her eyes light up.
"But no big hopes. If I can't, we ditch it."
"Yay! Unnie's the best. Love you!"
She drops the drone and hugs me tight. I pat her little back gently. If luck's on our side, free drone.
Back in the Kettenkraft, tools out.
Shell's fine; guts are probably mush.
Open the hatch—wires in odd colors, unfamiliar parts everywhere.
"........."
Can I fix this? Some fried, others alien. Quitting now means sad Hope watching. I've tinkered plenty in this world. Should manage. Flip through manuals and parts, dive in.
"This slots here, this like so..."
Her staring's pressuring, but focus. Reassemble, test—nothing. No power. Wasting time on scrap.
"No dice. Too busted."
Knew it was hopeless. No schematics, no expertise—just Grandma's lessons. Simple machines or the Kettenkraft, maybe. First-time tech? Nope.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Last resort: ancestral wisdom—bash with tools. Nada.
"That's it."
Shake awake Hope, dozing under a thick blanket from waiting. She shivers up, yawns hugely, rubs sleepy eyes with her knuckles. Then perks, expectant.
"Fixed?"
I shake my head.
"Oh......"
Deflated. Tell her we're going; she places the broken drone neatly by her snowmen. So it won't be lonely—her kindness.
"Let's go."
"Bye-bye."
Before starting, unfold the map to check route. Old handwriting marks cities: A-05, A-07, B-13... Os and Xs dotted around. We hit them for supplies. Nomadic life since leaving our home. But not aimless. Goal: reach Eden, starred on the map. Grandma's repeated promise to the end—hope exists there, even in this world.
Dunno if it's real, but a goal eases the mind over aimless wandering in a dead world. Gives purpose. Plus, if safe, no more drifting.
Fire up the engine. Hope boards, still glancing back wistfully. Suddenly, she grabs my shoulder.
"Unnie, Unnie! Stop quick!"
"Hope, what?!"
I kill the engine, startled. Look where she points.
Holy shit.
"The UFO's moving!"
Hope's thrilled as the drone lifts. Wasn't it dead? Why now? Grab her shoulder before she bolts—might not be ordinary. Overkill for a drone? Maybe, but wrecked machines are suspect. Hand to pistol in back pocket, ready. Drone drifts slowly toward us. As it nears, decide—then the silent monitor crackles with static, screen flares on.
My hand falls limp from the gun. What the hell is this?