Fever Dreams and Shattered Tiles
It's chilly. I'd boiled with fever all through the night. Yeah, in a way, it was no different from being sick, and maybe it was inevitable. But here's the thing.
No one told me it'd hurt this much...! My mind's going to melt! I'm gonna die! It's like my brain is slowly cooking at 60 degrees! If morning comes like this, I'll tell the customers who've been waiting in line: "Customer, your order of mildly fe҈̨̟̝̠́͠ver-҉̶̧̛͕̞̇̇̀͜͠ cooked ҈̛̮̣̯̉͜ brai҉n is ready. Mix it with rice... not taco, rice... for extra flavor." Ugh, just imagining it is horrifying. The genre suddenly shifted.
But seriously, no joke—this scorching fever was a first, even counting my previous life. If I washed my face with cold water right now, steam might rise from where it touches. Yeah, if only I could even make it to the bathroom, but my head's burning and my body won't respond. Ah... is this how I go out? In modern society, it'd make morning news: '20-Year-Old Man Dies After 20 Vaccine Doses in One Day.' And maybe, "Officials suspect high probability of suicide..." Well, is it suicide? I invited the virus into my body. Not even orally—straight into the vein.
Still, lucky me! Dying like that would be embarrassing, but this is a ruined world—no one cares about one or two deaths! Plus, this underground lab where I am is unknown to most, so I'll just end up as ashes in the incinerator, unreported. Anyway... I'm hitting the limit of delirious rambling. I'm dying. Mmm, ah, uh. Cool...
I woke up, and the fever was gone like it had been washed away. More like, my body overflowed with power, as if I'd molted and been reborn. Immortal, ageless! Had I finally reached the pinnacle of strength? Maybe the fever itself was a dream. I looked around. Bedding strewn everywhere, a musty smell, damp clothes. Yeah, no way it was a dream.
But if it wasn't, what was that cold sensation in the middle? A pre-heaven hallucination? No wet towel nearby, and no one else around, so who knows. Kinda unsettling. Fever means P.V. Virus infection, right? What if some stranger reports it to the Doctor?! All my meticulously built plans (about 2 days' worth) crumble in an instant.
...Nah, probably another misunderstanding. It's suspicious, but if a report had gone in while I was burning up, they'd have come already. First, clean up any evidence. Or rather, it's sticky from the moisture. I got up and headed to the shower.
Today, no schedule at all. In military terms, all-day personal maintenance time! Simple reason: the Doctor, sensing his research failed, locked himself away in grief. Haha, stay holed up forever doing research. Nera will enjoy personal time.
After a refreshing shower, I thought: gotta use the mimic power right. Realized yesterday that provoking the Doctor into jabbing more ampoules endangers me. Sure, I'll become the ultimate beauty later, but right now, I'm just a frail cutie virus-resistant at best. Dying from antibody reaction before infection? What a pathetic life.
Well, technically not antibodies. Anyway, feeling great today? Like I could fly! Yap ⏤⏤!!
-Crack!
? Uh... don't misunderstand. I didn't do anything. Just stomped energetically, and the floor broke on its own. Shi... trash! For a five-year-old loli to shatter it so pathetically. Yeah, this marble floor's too weak. Blame the brittle tiles.
O-oh, no big deal. But even in this corner shower, it'll get found eventually. How to hide it?
-Clack clack. Damn it!
No need to hide now! Who's coming? Stay calm, act natural. Panicking like a real kid looks more suspicious. Yeah, I'm just a fragile girl who witnessed facility wear-and-tear.
As I flailed internally, Emma appeared at the corner. Wow, hi, nice to see you. Great weather today. Never been outside, but. Why the floor like this? Hmm, Nera doesn't know~
"I heard a loud noise."
"Yes."
"Was there an incident?"
Noooope.
Emma's eyes followed mine. The floor was cratered, cracks spiderwebbing out—obvious even to brainwashed dolls. Especially Emma, ordered to watch me closely.
"...The facility seems deteriorated. I'll report to the Doctor. Be extra careful—you're his precious test subject."
Oh? Leaving now? Nope, approaching? What's with the hand, holding it? Protecting me from danger?
"Yes."
I took Emma's hand and walked slowly. Hmm... yeah, in this empty place, sudden collapse screams deterioration. ...The crater does look footprint-shaped, but as the "person involved," maybe I'm overthinking. A complete P.V. Virus immune like me couldn't have that power anyway. Good job, Emma. Loyal too...! Adorable, kind! Oooh, gaze upon me forever.
Time flew, another five years passed. At 10, suddenly mature, I had a recent worry. The once-tender bond between me and the Doctor was cracking.
"Tch."
The Doctor clicked his tongue shortly. Contempt leaked out. Not at me, surely—a proper beauty now. Face schooled cold from acting, but features oozed undeniable charm.
"Useless thing."
Ouch, that hurt.
"With that body, and you only produce this reaction? My research was perfect. No mistakes, no matter how I think."
Ha, ridiculous. Overconfident much?
"This phenomenon defies logic!!! Impossible!"
But ta-da, no such thing as impossible. Doctor, nothing's impossible in this world... it just hasn't happened yet.
Ranting alone, he grabbed my shoulders.
"You...! You did something. Confess properly! What did you do?! Why this result!!"
Eek, pervert. A beauty's shoulders hold national-treasure value. What if you break it?
"Doctor."
He froze like a broken machine. Yeah, yeah, you know you're acting pathetic. But stress is key. Lots of research today. Though I'll sabotage it all! Live, in real time!
"I have a report."
Emma stepped between us. Subtly blocking. Hey, don't block. I wanna see that ugly mug more—it's my 10-year survival fuel. Watching him go colt-crazy feels so good. Better than 4D movies.
"Fine, let's go."
He sighed deeply. Upper brass nagging him, probably. Normally, he'd present me—grotesquely mutated—as research success. Name? Bio-Weapon Type.Origin? Sounds cool.
Too bad, still plain Nera. His backers: Central Sector hardliners. Aww, funded a desperate scientist's lab with scraps, but sorry, uncles—he's busy parenting. And Doctor! Why kill Lily? My genetic mom was future genius researcher! Per game docs! But virus affinity? Lab rat! Think childcare erases it?
Doctor left with Emma. Note: she's publicly his secretary. 20 now. Starting to peak... no, prime intelligence age. But no Emma NPC in game. No one by his side. Cold sector man. Heh, too short? Ice-sexy-short-guy. Frequent outings? Precarious position. Donors burning up? Mine too!
His attitude lately: icy, like I'm incinerator-bound soon! Unlike his thoughts, I'm strong enough to slaughter all dolls, spin his head 360. Easy. But I want more power. What to do? His ampoules are top-quality—quitting hurts. But fooling him forever? His patience snaps first.
Pretend competent like Emma? How? She earned respect somehow. Still parasite-controlled, but he heeds her advice now. Shocked me. That ego listening? World-ending event.
If her social smarts, mine research intellect? But... previous life modern-educated average joe. This life? Endless tests, know nothing. Like country bumpkin girl. But smart head confirmed. Assumed world language Korean—wrong. Possessed newborn body already conversation-ready? Shocked seeing non-English/Korean script. Emma taught letters. No need, but adult mind learning from kid? Ego death. Admitting ignorance key, but sudden? Unfair. Boring since I knew, no mental blow.
Anyway, smart head... applies elsewhere? Still feel ignorant. Might not blend outside. Culture soaks in young. Isolated power-grower? Calamity in social sense too.
Huh? Think I'm fine, but others see brute kid? Sigh... mood down. Don't crave genius label, but not dumb muscle either. Wah, not baby anymore? Mature now. Nera Ver.2. Grown girl wants world knowledge.
Hmm... not textbook, but this doc? Nothing else to do. His obsession waned—no minding my antics. Calls rarely for tests. Rarely: five times weekly. Down from thrice daily. Wouldn't blink at naked twerking. Uh, different case? Might ask if crazy, then incinerate.