Gia's Past: Chains of Suffocation and a Miracle's Dawn
'Suffocating...'
As always, her lungs ached. The scrawny young demon girl returned to her cramped prison cell after enduring experiments that gnawed at her body and soul.
The searing pain boiling inside her made her instinctively resist entering the room, but the muscular man roughly dragging her from behind kicked her irritably.
"Agh!"
Her frail body tumbled into the center of the room.
"What's with the dawdling at the door, you damn brat...?"
The man spat at her and slammed the iron-barred door shut.
"Eat that quick and get some sleep. Experiments start early tomorrow."
Confirming the door was securely locked, he left.
"Ow..."
Trembling, she clutched the spot where she'd been kicked, then dragged herself to lean against the wall.
Beside her was today's dinner. As always, delivered at the set time—just enough thin gruel to prevent starvation. A meal solely for nutritional survival, tasteless as ever. This was what she'd eaten every day for five winters in this cell.
"......"
After a moment's hesitation, she poured the gruel into the hole used as a toilet. Leaving it uneaten would mean a beating like the one just now. The facility's staff didn't even allow test subjects to ruin their own bodies by starving. She knew that much. She'd tried starving herself before and been force-fed until her stomach bloated.
Still... today, she just didn't want to eat.
Suppressing the gnawing hunger, she lifted her head toward the tiny crack letting in a sliver of light—the only glimpse of the outside world. It was how she tracked changing seasons and weather.
Struggling to her feet, she peered through the crack at the vastly different world beyond.
Winter had passed, and lush green foliage sprouted vigorously. Small clouds drifted in their own shapes. An impeccably clear orange sky embraced them, while below in the forest, cute unnamed animals roamed in groups.
The sight of the sun slowly setting, dyeing the world orange, never failed to fill her with awe. So unlike the dim gloom of the demon realm. The human world. She'd overheard it was some hidden facility in the human empire. Knowing that didn't change much here...
But every glimpse outside stirred unwanted hope.
'No. I can't let myself hope like this...'
She knew no test subject ever left this place alive. It was a facility experimenting on captured subjects to artificially create powerful demons. She was one of them, of course.
Whether their target was impossibly high or they sought specific results, no subject had ever succeeded. They all endured experiments until their bodies gave out and died.
'......'
Her fate would be no different. By some stroke of luck—or curse or miracle—she'd survived five seasons, but she sensed her time was running out.
She pulled away from the crack. The light in her yellow eyes dimmed.
'Still... I don't want to die...'
She slumped down, burying her face in her knees.
'I want to live...'
In the fetid, vibrating prison, the girl couldn't quite abandon her sinking hope.
Born cursed, despised by her parents. Never loved, sold into slavery as soon as she grew a bit. Even facing death as a test subject after a life of torment and abuse, watching others she'd shared brief words and emotions with vanish one by one.
Yet today, too, she clung to hope and drifted into exhausted sleep amid hunger and fatigue.
——Some distant noise echoed faintly, but her weary body refused to stir.
Rubbing her eyes, the girl awoke. Something was off. Bright light streamed through the crack. It was morning, with the sun high—far too late. Experiments usually began at dawn. The man who'd kicked her yesterday had even said they'd start earlier.
'...It's so quiet.'
Everything felt different. In all five years combined, nothing had felt this eerily strange.
She swallowed. Five years without this meant it might be a heavenly opportunity.
Drawing courage from the persisting silence, she quietly rummaged a broken floor seam and retrieved the room key.
A month ago. She'd swallowed it whole after a drunken guard dropped it before her—barely hidden in her cell.
Using it was a gamble. A life-or-death one. Caught, she'd be executed on the spot—limbs severed to prevent escape, fed to the facility's beasts.
'...Doesn't matter. Better than dying without trying.'
Resolved, she stepped out.
Calming her madly pounding heart with her hand, she crept forward cautiously.
No one. Not at the guard post that never changed occupants despite rotations. Not at the rest area with chairs and tables where researchers chatted about results.
Eerily empty. Only the ceiling's glowstones shone brightly.
'The exit... this way, maybe.'
Recalling the path, she advanced. She didn't know the exit, but remembered a spot likely leading out—once seen en route to a lab. Heavily guarded, drawing much attention; it had to be key.
No other leads anyway.
She headed there cautiously. Upon arrival, she was stunned—the biggest shock since entering.
'Wha...?'
The door blocking the passage hung open. Not shocking in itself—doors open sometimes.
But the sight beyond...
Trembling in fear, she approached. Past the passage lay a vast space she'd never seen. A massive glowstone illuminated it from above. By her scant knowledge, it seemed carved from a cave or cliff—spacious enough to ease her constant claustrophobia if she'd visited regularly.
Yet this vast interior was filled with demon corpses. Smashed, slashed, torn, mangled, blood-splattered piles.
She waded through pooling blood. Some familiar faces—brutes who'd wielded irresistible violence on her child body. Most deserved death in her eyes.
And amid them, dominating the center: a colossal aberrant monster. A vomit-inducing abomination stitched from over a hundred corpses like patchwork clothing, now slumped dead like shed rags...
Atop it sat a human woman.
'A human?'
Silver hair with a blue tint, unkempt to her waist, striking. No horns or tail in this human realm—likely human.
Blood-soaked yet nonchalant, she sat there casually. Breathing steadily, utterly relaxed. The blood wasn't hers.
She wore armor blending blue and silver, exposing her chest. In hand, a black greatsword—even to the girl's untrained eyes, a famed blade.
All here had clearly died by her hand.
The girl blinked.
"...Am I going to die too?"
Curiosity overrode fear.
"...Do you want to?"
Leaping, the woman knelt on one knee before her—instantly, too fast for the girl's eyes. Matching heights, she smiled softly with chilling slit eyes.
"Speak freely. Do you really want to die?"
Odd. It should've sounded like 'Want death? I'll grant it.' or 'Any last words?'
But to the girl, it rang: 'Why ask? You obviously don't want to die.'
"...No."
Bowing her head, trembling, tears spilling, she mustered courage.
"...I don't want to die. I want to live."
A gentle hand rested on her shoulder.
"Thought so."
The woman's hand.
"Then let's go."
Suddenly, she scooped the girl up lightly onto her shoulder.
"Eek?!"
"Sky's clear today—nice, right? Ah, too stimulating? Close your eyes tight if you don't want to see. Tell me when we're out and it's gone."
Her voice felt tenderly kind, belying her terrifying slit-eyed expression. Unthinkable for one who'd massacred countless demons so brutally.
"It's okay. My whole life... I want to etch this in my eyes... never forget."
"Tougher kid than I thought. Worth seeking you out first, even pushing it."
"Huh?"
"Talking to myself. Let's go."
Smiling, she moved.
"Wh-what about the others...?"
The woman fell silent, shaking her head. No fool, the girl understood, drooping sadly.
They passed demon and monster corpses.
Feeling strange comfort, she murmured inwardly: So many people, monsters here. And this one killed them all with a single sword.
"...Got a name?"
"...Ah, Test Subject 205. That's what they called me."
"That's their label. Don't you have a real name?"
The demon girl, Shapina, pondered. A name she'd discarded. Didn't want to share.
"I did. Threw it away long ago. Hate it. 205's better."
"Heh, really?"
"Yes, really..."
"Got it. Yeah, I think so too."
Still cryptic. Trivial words, yet the first real conversation in ages.
Suddenly, light flooded her vision.
"Whoa..."
Light beyond the crack now bathed her fully. The sun blazed brighter, hotter than glimpsed. No more sticky stench.
Below, flowers in every color. Unseen through the crack, she dashed to them like a child finding treasure upon being set down.
Sitting among them, she lay back, savoring the tickling scent. Dirt and pollen on her skin? Didn't care.
"So pretty..."
"Right?"
The woman sat beside her. Blood-drenched against the flower field, mismatched—yet it suited her.
"No name? Want your big sis to give you one?"
"...Suddenly?"
"Yeah. Planning to keep you around. Busy now, but... can't call you 205 forever."
"Keep me?"
Ah, realizing, she nodded.
"...Yes. I'm good at it. Was a slave."
"Not anymore. More like... family-ish?"
"Family... ish?"
Family meant only pain for her. "Ish" felt better than casual "family."
She approved. The woman spoke.
"My homeland has 'freesia' flowers. Like that yellow one. They have flower meanings."
"Flower... meanings?"
"Yeah, symbolic. Back home, one meaning for freesia is cheering a fresh start. Perfect for you, right?"
Then: Picked them all, but four letters too long—shorten to 'Gia.' What do you think?
"—Pft, pu, puhahaha!"
Serious delivery, asking her opinion—it was irresistibly funny.
She burst laughing. First time? Maybe ever.
"What? Shortening kills the flower meaning!"
"Ugh, hits the nail. Hate it? Another name..."
"Hehe, no. Yes. Love it. My name."
Gia. Gia. Gia. Tasting it silently, perfect. From a good flower, and her first liked name.
"Then, call you Master?"
"Hey, said no slave stuff. Call me sis casually. No 'Master' or 'Miss'—too stiff."
The woman rose. She followed, gently taking the offered hand.
Dried blood-warmth felt cozy, not scary.
——Grrrrrrowl.
Her stomach rumbled; her face flushed beet-red.
"Ugh..."
"Makes sense. Camp nearby. I'll feed you full. Wanna wash too."
Shyly nodding, they walked hand-in-hand.
"...Sis's name?"
Glancing up awkwardly, asking the name to cherish forever.
"—Aren Parates. The woman who saved you, and your family-ish person from now on."
Her smile beamed maternally, suiting her blood-splattered form illogically.
The girl's yellow eyes sparkled.
'Ah, I'll never forget this face.'
She thought unconsciously.
"......"
Correct. Feeling her foggy mind clear, Gia awoke in her own bed.
Three years ago—that miracle day resurfaced vividly in dreams whenever fading.
Despair turned to miracle, transforming her life utterly.
Gia gazed at her larger hands. Grown so much in three years. Body amazingly healthy.
Director—sis—said her figure improved. Wondered if gaining weight and bust was good; sis laughed, 'What better proof of growing?'
Turning to the sunlit window. Unlike then, she roamed freely outside now. With sis and the other kids sis took in.
"...Alright, let's make today count too!"
For herself.
For the other kids.
And for her utterly precious sis.
Knowing it's the daily life sis wants.