Analiese awoke in a land that was not her own. She could tell from the moment she took her first breath, felt the reddish dirt covering her naked body—this was not the same land where she had been born, raised, the land she loved so deeply in her bones, loved as if it were herself. It was not the Eldia for which she had sacrificed everything to ensure its safety.
Fumbling her way to her knees, every joint ached, her muscles feeling like they were out of place inside a far smaller body. It was that physical sensation that struck her with the realization of what must have happened. Slowly, she looked to her right and left to find a line of others beside her, all equally as bare, dirty, and visibly confused.
They had failed, hadn’t they? They had failed to protect their home against invasion, to keep what remained of Eldia safe in Paradis. After all, that had been why Analiese had volunteered her soul to the cause. She had sacrificed herself for the hope of the future—the hope of her son, and for however many generations had passed until now. And given the fact that she was now human again, her arms no longer linked in solidarity with willing and unwilling comrades, it was clear she had been unable to deliver on such a simple task. To stand there for eternity—-why could it not have been so easy?
She had been promised by the King, promised that this would ensure the safety of those that came to the island. Her sacrifice would allow others to thrive and find peace for the first time in centuries. So she had let the serum flow inside of her, let the last drips of her humanity pour out into the expanse of an unknown night sky, and trusted that the promises were kept. To see now that they had not been was nothing short of a nightmare.
So Analiese gave in, not minding what the others beside her would think. A scream tore through her, pouring out of each vein and artery as she cried out for everything that she had sought to accomplish, the martyrdom that had been stolen from her.
How could she return now to Eldia, if it even was possible? How could she face the royal family, or worse, how could she face whatever part of her family still remained, the one she had given up so much for?
Analiese Hange had become a disgrace.
Otto awoke to a scream. It was feral and unrestrained, from the sound alone he pitied whatever poor soul it was that had created such a haunting sound. He had not yet opened his eyes by the time he had made move to sit up, his arms pushing down into the ground beneath them.
It was not ground, though, but something warm and soft. Otto froze with his eyes still shut, his mind whirring as he tried to think through what he could be laying on, what could have brought him to this point. He had an idea but one too abhorrent to even entertain.
The wailing from afar continued until Otto’s imagination spiraled further. No longer able to bear the weight of “what if”, he opened his eyes and sat up. It was the worst vision he had seen in his life.
Beneath him was an old woman or at least what remained of her. It was not the wrinkles that gave it away, no, her face was barely distinguishable now. It was the grey hair that had fallen from the silken scarf that must have been holding it into a bun. That was the only sign, everything else about the body he had woken up upon was a flattened imprint into the soil.
There was no force in the world that could have done this to a body, mangled it beyond recognition like this. No force but one.
Otto emptied his stomach into the ground beside them as he realized. Ice seeped into every fiber of his being as he stared down at his own hands. He had been a harbinger of this destruction, the one who had quite literally stamped the life out of an innocent. And perhaps the most rage-inducing part of it all was that he had known this would all turn terrible and horrific. He was not one of the Eldians who had welcomed this idea openly, trusted that the world would listen and leave them alone. They would not leave his family alone, not his mother or father, his sister or the new sibling who was on the way.
He had known that it was a foolish hope. He had argued as much to anyone who would listen and when they had not listened, he had used other means. Nobody had died because of his plans, only property destroyed, but that still was decidedly a step too far. No point had been made when the shackles were closed tight around his wrists.
And then to be a part of the plan that he so vehemently disagreed with—Otto had fought tooth and nail against the serum and the transformation. But arguments meant nothing when the light struck through his body and everything he had known was torn out from underneath him and he was left to wander in a vast expanse, not knowing what it was his body was doing in the world. He had hoped it would be standing still.
Now, as he came face to face with the disaster that was wrought by his own hands, Otto felt the rage and guilt bubble inside. If only they had listened, if only the trust was not put into naively optimistic hands, if only the world could have left them all alone. No, it was not wholly his fault, he knew that in some way, but he could not help the weight of it drop on his shoulders.
Otto Smith had failed.
Rosamund Arlert awoke with her body flush against the ocean floor. She did not breathe again.