Chapter Fourty Nine: Awakening
487 Words
Mila’s POV
The world returned in fragments.
A hum.
A metallic buzz.
A voice — muffled, distant — calling out numbers.
Mila’s lashes fluttered. Her head throbbed. Every breath tasted like metal and antiseptic. When she finally blinked her eyes open, harsh white light flooded her vision, forcing her to squint.
She was lying on a cot — no, a hospital bed — but this wasn’t any hospital she knew. The ceiling was concrete, not tiled. The walls were lined with machines blinking in quiet rhythm. And the air… was too still. Too controlled.
She tried to sit up — her wrists protested.
Straps.
Wide, leather ones buckled across her arms and waist.
Her heart jumped.
“What— what is this?” she rasped, her voice dry. “Where—”
“Good. You’re awake.”
The voice came from the corner. A man in a grey lab coat stepped into the light, a tablet in his hands, eyes cold and unhurried. His ID badge flashed as he moved closer: Dr. Lang.
“W–Who are you?” she demanded, trying again to pull free.
He didn’t answer right away. Just studied her vitals on the monitor before speaking, his tone smooth, detached.
“Vitals stable. Neural response… unusually active. You’re adapting faster than predicted.”
Mila froze. “What are you talking about?”
He finally met her eyes — and smiled, faintly.
“You don’t remember, do you? That’s fine. It’ll come back. It always does.”
Her blood ran cold.
“What will come back?”
He stepped closer. “Everything your father tried to bury.”
Her throat closed up.
“My— my father?”
Lang tilted his head slightly. “He didn’t tell you? That you were part of the original Mnemosyne trials?”
The words hit her like a slap.
“No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “That’s not possible. I— I was a kid—”
“You were eight.” He typed something into his tablet. “Subjects 4A through 4H. All children of the original Eden researchers. But you, Mila Miller— you were different. You survived the wipe.”
The room swayed. Her pulse thundered.
“What do you mean survived?”
Lang sighed, almost pitying. “Don’t strain yourself. The memory barrier will start to lift soon. The headaches, the flashes — they’re part of the recall process.”
He turned toward the door. “Get some rest, Subject 4B. Tomorrow, we continue calibration.”
The lock clicked behind him as he left.
For a moment, Mila couldn’t breathe. The monitor beside her beeped faster, matching the panic flooding her chest.
Subject 4B.
Project Mnemosyne.
Her father.
Everything she thought she knew cracked down the middle.
And somewhere, deep inside her fogged mind, something old and electric stirred — like a memory pressing against the surface, begging to be remembered.
- Writer
