Chapter 15: [Hazard] - (24 Years Before the Original) A Thread of Hope, Finally Within Reach. But— (End)
Two women.
Abe and Grave.
The one thing these two had in common was that they were, quite literally, the same person.
“Does this even make sense? You... no... haaaah!”
“Don’t sigh. It won’t change anything.”
“That’s exactly why it’s so weird! You... you and me! You are me, and I am you! How the hell did this happen?!”
“When you live with a superhuman, you learn that common sense is a fragile thing.”
Grave had survived to the end, burdened by her mission, even after her memories were shattered by humans and her body was left in tatters from brutal abuse.
Abe was the genius, the greatest scientist hailed for creating five Fairy Tale Second Generation model NIKKEs.
Though they were reflections of one another, their contrasting appearances and temperaments led to very different reactions.
“Learned what?! The problem is that common sense is being obliterated!”
“Life never goes according to plan.”
“You’ve got memory loss and you’re still spouting philosophical nonsense—no, wait, that isn’t even philosophy!”
“.....The past version of me really was quite the nag.”
“U...uhh! You... you!”
Ignoring Abe’s shouting, Grave, whose face was hidden by her helmet, finally removed the headgear she had worn for so long.
Beyond the pitch-black visor, the face revealed was—
“.....Hey. This isn’t right. Even if your memories are gone, you could have at least fixed part of your face—”
“Fixing Cinderella was the priority. Back then... you know as well as I do that I was captured by humans and torn apart piece by piece, right?”
“.....I can’t argue with that.”
“It is the same for me. I don’t know how much time has passed, but I have simply... grown numb. Though my distrust and wariness of humans have only deepened.”
It was a hideous sight. It wasn't a human face; the skin had been peeled away, leaving the metallic structure of the skull exposed.
In the past, Grave had followed a NIKKE who had left the Ark to explore the surface, only to be captured by the Ark's humans. Under the guise of researching “lost technology,” she had been disassembled and experimented upon.
One year. A period that felt both fleeting and eternal.
The aftermath was shocking: severe memory loss and a grotesquely ruined appearance.
“I am you. And you are me.”
“.....”
“I hate humans, and I do not trust them. My memories are damaged; all that remains is the mission—to rewrite the tainted story alongside Cinderella.”
“........Tch.”
Grave spoke as if continuing a natural conversation.
However, Abe could feel that her current self—Grave—had suffered a significant decline in her vocabulary.
“So... after being experimented on, you're stuck with this clumsy, choppy way of speaking? What are you going to do about that?”
“......”
“They practically turned you into a cripple! If you had just held out a little longer, Cinderella would have been fixed ages ago!”
“So, do you regret it?”
“Regret? Regret!? Ha! Of course I do! I regret walking into that hell just because I was naive enough to be relieved that humanity had survived!”
“.....”
Abe was livid.
Her scream was thick with deep regret and fury.
Because of a complacent thought and a rash judgment, she had been destroyed in an instant.
The brilliant woman she once was—the genius, the master engineer, the radiant creator of the Fairy Tale Second Generation models—now vomited a misery that lived up to the name Grave.
“.....I’m sorry..... that I regret it.....”
“......”
“Cinderella was so pitiful, crying and blaming herself..... We promised we’d all smile together and become the Goddesses of Victory....”
“It isn’t over yet. Our story has only just begun.”
“Begun...? Ha... haha... yeah... a story... that sounds nice...”
Abe collapsed to the ground right there.
Grave knelt on one knee to meet her eyes.
The two remained silent for a while before speaking again.
“Honestly, I don’t know why this happened, where it all went wrong, why we had to suffer this, or who that man even is... I have no idea.”
Speaking gloomily, Abe looked down at her hands with a sense of helplessness.
“Getting caught at the exact moment we needed it most... and in the end, all our knowledge and memories were wiped.”
As Abe spiraled into self-pity and frustration, Grave closed her eyes in silence.
Then, she slowly opened them and spoke.
“So, are you going to give up?”
Abe frowned and glared at her, but Grave continued, unfazed.
“It’s too early to give up. Even Cinderella, who was nearly impossible to treat, is almost fully repaired.”
Despite her hideous appearance, a smile played on her lips.
“I understand wanting to give up. I understand the despair. I, too, felt the injustice of my lost memories.”
Not a human hand, but a mechanical one.
Cold, yet gentle, it stroked Abe’s head.
“But I didn’t want to give up. I didn’t want to show a defeated face to Cinderella, who fought until the very end.”
She stood up, removed her hand, and extended an open palm.
“She fought beautifully. She never gave up. That is why I didn’t give up either, and why I protected her.”
Abe stared blankly at her other self.
Then, she recalled the past.
[ If I’m going to rewrite the story, I have to clean up the mess I made myself. ]
[ I want to be humanity’s hope. I want to be the Post-Goddess. ]
[ I must set right, with my own hands, the things I ruined. ]
Cinderella had been like a daughter to her—someone she cherished more than anyone. She had pursued beauty for her, but that beauty was also a 'noble mission' and a 'sacrifice for humanity.'
Because she had created her, the attachment was deeper.
Because she was like a child, she should have cherished and protected her more.
Even if her prickly personality made it difficult to express.
“I really am an idiot. Cinderella is the one who suffered the most, yet here I am, the one falling apart.....”
Abe let out a bitter laugh, filled with self-reproach for having forgotten for a moment, and took Grave’s hand.
The two faced each other and shared a wry smile.
“Yeah. I can’t give up. Cinderella is being treated and there’s hope now—it would be stupid to quit.”
“Exactly. And we still have a new story to write.”
Each of them reaffirmed the single, blind goal they pursued and nodded.
“By the way, aren’t you suspicious? Even if he inherited the memories, why would someone with that kind of terrifying power help us?”
“The superhuman—no, Hook—says he lost his memories. He is similar to me.”
“Lost his memories? Hah, then is he from the Ark?”
“No. When the Ark was mentioned, he denied it vehemently. More than that, his reaction was decidedly unfriendly.”
Abe’s questions were rooted in doubt. Grave defended him, but Abe couldn't easily shake her suspicions.
“Despite the fact that I was captured by ‘humans’ and lost my memories, Hook helped me sincerely.”
Grave recounted her time with Hook.
“He wiped out Rapture swarms that were beyond my capacity.”
He crushed the hordes with power that defied all logic.
“He tried to talk with me and empathized with my story.”
Whenever they found a moment to rest, they would share simple meals and conversation.
“And he never tried to peek while I was repairing Cinderella. He respected my privacy.”
He intentionally avoided seeing Cinderella in her sensitive state, a boundary that was very important to both Grave and Abe.
Whenever the coffin was opened to check her condition or perform manual repairs, Hook stepped away.
“He was considerate, avoiding awkward or rude questions and respecting the things I am sensitive about.”
The defense flowed naturally from Grave's lips.
Still, Abe wasn't entirely convinced.
“Most importantly, he was a huge help in treating Cinderella and perfectly restoring her weapon, the Glass Slipper.”
“......Damn it, I can’t argue with that.”
“Of course. To restore her to that extent, we needed high-quality and specialized parts, which Hook obtained with ease.”
Abe knew the truth.
Cinderella was part of the Fairy Tale series; the components that made her were specialized parts of a completely different caliber.
And for any real restoration or repair, those specific parts were essential.
Finding parts of that quality on the surface—which was essentially a Rapture hive—was nothing short of a miracle.
She knew she had to let go of her suspicion.
“He said he was curious about the story we would write. When I told him about the past, Hook was genuinely saddened.”
“.......”
“You’re right. Logically, much of Hook’s behavior doesn’t make sense.”
“And yet you trust him?”
“I do. And the proof is that I have regained the hope of meeting Cinderella again.”
Seeing Grave answer with a faint smile, Abe finally shook her head.
Grave imagined it.
Meeting Cinderella again, with Hook smiling beside her as if he couldn't help himself.
And then—from within her damaged memories, she recalled three unnamed NIKKEs laughing and talking together.
“Hook treated me as a human.”
She decided to trust Hook, who had treated her not as a tool or a specimen—like the humans she loathed—but as a person.
He had achieved what she could not and restored her hope.
And it was Hook who had pulled her back up just as she was about to sink into despair.
“There will never again be a tainted, twisted, false story.”
“Ha.....”
“I will make sure that Cinderella, who bore such disgrace, becomes the ‘Goddess of Victory.’ ”
“Yeah..... that’s the kind of woman I was.”
Abe smiled softly, following Grave’s lead.
She raised her arm and extended her fist.
“Just don’t go acting stupid, okay? Even if your memories are gone, your body still remembers!”
Her tone was sharp and fierce, but she wore a smile of liberation.
“Don’t worry. I will protect Cinderella no matter what.”
Grave spoke with absolute confidence, extending her fist with reassuring strength.
Abe let out a long sigh and shook her head.
“Haa... how did I end up like this? That man Hook is going to have his hands full.”
“I do not drag down a superhuman.”
“That’s not what I meant, you idiot!”
“We fight together. And we write the story together.”
Similar, yet different.
Yet, more than anyone, they were tender toward their “children” and would fight by their side until the end.
“......■■ and ■■■ and ■■ ■■■■... do you remember the name of ■■■?”
“.....I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“....Wow, I’m seriously worried about the future. Truly worried!”
“I am fine. I am confident I can overcome it.”
“I’m done talking to you, seriously!”
Thump!
The two women.
As Grave’s and Abe’s fists collided, the surroundings began to glow with a brilliant light.
“Even if your memories are gone, don’t lose your technical skills, okay?”
“Don’t worry. I can just relearn them.”
“Sigh... let’s just stop talking.”
“Heh heh heh.”
Smiling at one another, they accepted their fading consciousness and drifted into a deep sleep.
===============
Dawn breaks.
Even after the sun had set, Hook had silently guarded the coffin and the Glass Slipper. Now, he stood watch over the iron door leading underground.
The morning sunlight began to push back the darkness beyond the mountain range.
The dark sky gradually shifted to blue, then slowly transitioned into a bright celestial hue.
The cold ground began to absorb the warmth of the sun.
And then—
Grrrrrnnn—
The iron door leading underground opened, and someone stepped out.
Her attire had changed to something more practical for movement.
Though much of her skin was exposed, the compact muscles forged through combat and survival were striking.
She was far from a typical beauty; scars marred various parts of her body.
She was tall for a woman, and the helmet that had hidden her face was now only half-covering her—it was unclear if it had been modified or simply broken.
Hook recognized her immediately.
She had never shown him her face without the helmet before.
Still, seeing the woman with her face half-exposed, he let out a sigh of relief and greeted her.
“You look healthy. How are you feeling? How's the body?”
The woman accepted his light morning greeting with a smile.
“Excellent.”
It was Grave, awakened and reborn through the spare body Hook had provided.
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