An unknown amount of ti passed as Zion’s mind floated through the darkness.
There was no pain anymore, neither was there sound or even a sense of awareness. He just existed... and that was it.
[Consciousness stabilized.] A chanical voice echoed out. [mory synchronization in progress...]
Slowly, fragnts of light appeared in front of Zion’s eyes, forming a picture little by little.
Finally, his thoughts awakened and a low hum entered his ears.
’Ugh,’ he thought, opening his eyes.
His body hurt, but compared to the pain he’d felt before, this was just a small sting.
As he looked around, he froze.
’This...’ his eyes widened.
There was no way he wouldn’t recognize this place.
A cramped room with a single bed and bright white lights that never shut off, even in the middle of the night.
That’s when he felt the cold tal bound around his wrists and ankles, each cuff attached to a long tal chain embedded deep into the wall.
His breathing spiked for a mont as his mories flooded back.
’This is the ntal part of the breakthrough?’ he thought, gritting his teeth. ’And... I have to face this mory?’
Suddenly, his mouth opened.
"...No," it whispered as his body slid off the bed.
’What is going on?’ Zion thought, confused as he hadn’t said anything.
No matter how much he tried, he had absolutely no control over his body.
"This is all a mistake," his body whispered again, trembling. "No, I shouldn’t be afraid. Xera will make all of this right and get out..."
Hearing that, Zion’s expression darkened as he understood what was going on.
’This is just a mory,’ he thought, frustrated. ’I can’t influence it at all.’
It was like he was watching himself from above, forced to see and feel the sa mistakes and his naivety again.
’If it’s here,’ he thought, clenching his fists, ’it won’t be long before that fucker shows up.’
As expected, footsteps echoed through the hall outside his cell.
His body imdiately sat up, a glimr of hope appearing in its eyes.
The door slid open with a soft hiss, and several familiar faces stepped inside.
He felt his heart leap in his chest.
"Zion!" His best friend called out, rushing toward him and kneeling down to his level with relief written across his face.
"Xera," his body said, voice trembling.
Behind him ca three others, comrades he’d spent his entire life with—graduating from the sa school, joining the sa squad, people who had fought beside him.
"You’re awake," one of them said, pity flashing across his face. "That’s good."
His body reacted, his lips trembling while his eyes burned as tears welled up in them.
"T-Thank you," his body said hoarsely. "I knew you’d co."
His best friend, Xera, pulled him up and sat beside him on the prison bed.
"Of course we did," he said firmly. "This is all just a misunderstanding. Command jumped the gun on sothing, that’s all."
Another nodded. "Yeah. Don’t worry, we’ll get you out of here."
Zion watched from deep within, disgust and rage plastered across his face as he heard their words.
Inside him, sothing twisted.
He rembered this part.
The reassurances and the fake smiles. The way none of them even asked how he was feeling.
It was so obvious now, seeing it from this distance.
’I wish I could step in,’ he thought, gritting his teeth in fury. ’I would kill them right here, right now.’
The mory continued on, though, tears streaming down his body’s face as he thanked his friends.
"I didn’t do any of this," he said desperately. "You know I didn’t. I was just doing so maintenance, I wasn’t even near the ancient ruin—"
"I know," Xera interrupted gently. "I know."
He sighed, lowering his gaze for just a mont before looking back up.
"Just rest for now, okay? We’re handling everything."
"Thank you," his body said, lowering his gaze, making it impossible for Zion to their expressions.
His friends stayed a bit longer, offering so shallow comfort and empty promises before leaving one by one.
As the door slid shut behind Xera, silence returned to the room.
Ti blurred from there, hours, or even days, passing by.
Zion watched all of it in silence, a hint of pity for his past self settling in his chest.
His body lay there, staring at the ceiling, listening to his own voice whisper reassurances in the empty room.
"They’ll fix this," his body murmured weakly. "They have to."
Not long after, footsteps echoed through the hall again.
This ti, they were heavier.
The door flung open, two guards instantly stepping inside. Their expressions were blank and professional, as if they’d seen this scene thousands of tis before.
"Get up," one of them said, while the other swiped a card at the entrance.
The restraints released with a sharp click.
Before his body could even react, they grabbed him by the arms and hauled him to his feet.
"Wait—!" he started.
A cloth was wrapped tightly around his mouth, silencing him instantly.
Zion’s heart pounded as they dragged him through the corridor.
Gradually, all kinds of noises echoed into his ears.
At first, he just heard faint, muffled sounds from far away. Then they grew louder, stacking on top of each other until there were hundreds of voices overlapping.
The guards scanned their cards, allowing two massive doors to slide open in front of them.
A wave of warm air washed over his body as a massive courtroom stretched out before him.
Rows of spectators filled both sides of the courtroom, leaving not a single seat empty. Faces blurred together at first, but as Zion was dragged further inside, he began recognizing them one by one.
There were students from the sa academy, countless noble families like his, executives, military officials—every one of them watching him and judging him.
Zion made sure to morize each face, sothing he hadn’t been able to do in the past.
’I’ll rember you,’ he swore silently. ’Every single one of you.’
His body was dragged to the center of the room and forced to its knees. Chains clattered as they rose from the ground, binding his hands and pulling him down with imnse force.
The murmurs around him grew louder.
Finally, the judge entered.
Everyone in the courtroom went silent at once.
Zion stared up at the elevated seat, at the man smiling faintly down at him, and felt sothing inside crack.
’I was right,’ he thought. ’This was all rigged from the start.’
The judge raised his hand.
"Let the proceedings begin."
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