Project Revenant
(The sequel to The Price You Took)
Cherish.
The name feels distant, like an echo from another life—a soft whisper against the storm still swirling inside me. It used to mean something. It used to be me. But now, it’s just a word, a fragile thread of identity that doesn’t quite fit anymore.
The world around me is sharp and muted all at once, the colors too vivid yet too hollow. I feel the weight of my body, the rise and fall of my chest, but it’s all mechanical—like a distant observer watching through a glass pane. Every breath feels like a borrowed motion, every blink a practiced routine.
And the energy…
It’s not a wild, untamed force anymore. It’s not clawing at me, threatening to consume me. No—it’s something else now. Coiled and quiet, like a predator resting just beneath my skin, waiting for a signal. It doesn’t rage—it listens. It waits.
I push myself upright, my movements fluid but unfamiliar, like I’m learning how to use my body for the first time. The storm within doesn’t resist; it moves with me, silent but ever-present.
There’s a voice in the back of my mind—faint, pleading—but I can’t make out the words. It feels far away. Muffled. Someone calling for her. For Cherish.
But I am not her. Not anymore.
I stand, the world tilting for a brief moment before steadying itself. My fingers curl and uncurl at my sides, testing their strength. The pain in my right hand is distant, almost forgotten, a phantom ache that no longer commands me.