It was the first memory, a shard of pale dawn floating in a velvet dark.

The girl couldn’t recall why those images lived in her head, like leaves pressed inside a forgotten book.

A vast room spread like a cold whale belly; white coats rushed about, their steps like frantic rain.

Outside the room, faces ringed the window like moths to glass, doing something she couldn’t name.

Blood and a woman’s cries braided together, a torn storm ripping through the air.

At last—

A gurgling cry pierced the tense air, like a sparrow breaking a thundercloud.

“She’s born, she’s born!”

A nurse cradled the newborn, joy shining like a lamp in fog.

But the onlookers wore masks of stone, winter-flat and unmoved.

Because it was a girl, like a frost-bitten blossom.

Since childhood, they left her in corners, like a broom forgotten behind a door.

She longed for an embrace; what filled her ears was their voices like cold knives.

“Another girl? If the Supervision Council finds out, your status won’t survive!”

“Looks like we can dump her back at the old home. If we don’t claim her, we’re fine.”

“Then hurry. Don’t let anyone see.”

They abandoned her to the old home, a field of dry grass and broken fences.

It was a lonely, withering land, like autumn left too long.

The young and strong had gone, leaving elders and children to live on scraps like sparrows pecking grain.

“Grandma…”

No one liked the girl. Even her parents called her a burden, and neighbor kids spat that she was an unwanted stray.

Her only caretaker, her grandmother, went early into the soil, a candle blown out.

The relatives after that raised her like livestock, counting breaths like coins.

They barred the door. They gave her leftovers, cold as yesterday’s rain. No company, no gifts, only sparrows singing on branches.

The sky spread like a sea; she felt small as a drifting seed.

Though she couldn’t read a single word, she tried to run, to flee this pit like a mouse seeking a hedge.

But how could it happen?

Every attempt ended with rough hands hauling her back, fists like hail, curses like thorns.

“You little nuisance! All you do is make trouble!”

“If the Supervision Council finds out, do you even know what will happen?”

She didn’t know why the beatings fell like winter sleet.

She only knew this place—

No one, not one moonlit shadow, liked her.

“I heard a sect came by, recruiting underage believers.”

“Does it cost… no, I mean, is it legit?”

“No fees. They pay you. They came from a distant star system, so it’s solid. Sell that thing, then we never deal with it again.”

“Perfect! That solves a big problem for the family.”

The Electrode Sect—

That was where they finally sent the girl, like a parcel tossed to a dark tide.

A great black box loomed, something she’d never seen, like a coffin without a lid.

The entrance gaped, deep and dark, like a lion’s maw ready to bite.

Behind her, there weren’t any familiar shadows, only the echo of empty hallway.

“Are you believer 635?”

“Y-yes…”

“Come receive the Thunder God’s guidance, and complete the transcendence.”

A white coat spoke to the girl, voice like iron on silk.

Would the beatings finally stop, like rain after the storm?

Could she be… liked, like a warm hand on a winter cheek?

She spun hope like thin glass, then saw it crack.

This place was just another hell, a furnace with different walls.

No one cursed her here, the air clean as a doctor’s smile.

But the pain in her body was a forest fire, tenfold what came before.

They sent her often to a steel room, cold as a blade under moonlight.

She sat in a chair twined with wires and cuffs, like a spider’s web around a moth.

She didn’t understand why this world had such terrible things, names like lightning and iron stitched into skin.

Arcs… a chair of shocks?

Therapy… experiments?

She shook her head, trying not to think of those words that felt like needles.

Because if she endured, if she crawled through this tunnel of night, she could see—

Her.

It happened when they first tossed her into the room, like a stone into a well.

No sunlight fell here; the basement breathed damp forever, like moss on old brick.

Yet there was a girl different from all others, a small flame inside the fog.

“Hi, I’m Aisu!”

What expression… was that?

The girl had never seen anyone show teeth like a shy crescent moon.

That look was beautiful, a petal opening.

“H-hi…”

She scraped courage together like kindling and let a word out.

Too much loneliness had turned her voice rough, sand in the throat.

“Hi~ We’re roommates from now on. Please treat me kindly.”

“Treat me… kindly?”

“It means we help each other~ Hmm… how should I address you?”

“Address… me?”

She tilted her head. In her memory, no one had ever asked that question.

“I mean your name?”

“Name? I don’t have one.”

No household record, no name. At home, they called her that thing, like an object on a shelf.

“Huh? No name?”

“Mm…”

“Then I’ll call you Dawn Sky.”

“Dawn Sky…?”

“Yeah! Because your hair is sky-blue, like morning above the hills.”

In the Electrode Sect, food for girls was poor, thick nutrient paste like beige mud.

The experiments hurt; electrodes kissed skin with biting snakes of light.

The girls lived a rigid three-point routine, like chicks in a battery coop pecking the same path.

But this—

Was the only stretch of joy in Dawn Sky’s life, a small spring under rock.

Because she—

Finally wasn’t alone, like two leaves pressed together.

“Dawn Sky, did it hurt today?”

“I-it’s fine!”

Even in pain, they had each other’s arms, a shelter like a shared blanket.

A name known to two hearts, a secret like morning dew.

For Dawn Sky, this was too precious, a star in a black river.

“Aisu-jie, why did you end up here?”

“I overdid games before! My folks tricked me, called it some online school. Hmph! It’s a scummy internet addiction camp.”

“Games… what are those?”

“Mm… When Dawn Sky gets out, I’ll take you to play.”

“Really… can I?”

“Of course! I’m a max-level boss!”

Many girls lived here, a flock like starlings under eaves.

Hundreds, maybe thousands.

But for the first time, Dawn Sky met so many companions, a garden of voices.

For the first time, she saw so many like herself, reflections across a lake.

After tests, they sent the girls together to do messy work, hands like weaving reeds.

Bags, bracelets, clothes— threads running like little rivers.

Daily quotas were heavy as millstones; failure brought punishments like winter rods.

But the work gave chances to talk, weaving words like warm yarn.

Stories of hometowns, like hills and fields under different suns.

Dreams of the future, like paper kites over roofs.

“Wow, your parents were too much, throwing you away because of some plan…”

“Back where I’m from, families wish for more kids.”

“How about this? When you get out, come with me! Wildflowers in the mountains are gorgeous.”

“No way. Dawn Sky is already reserved as my carry.”

In their chirping talk, Dawn Sky felt life widen, a road opening like a river after ice.

For the first time, she tasted hope, like a sweet seed on the tongue.

“Hey? Where’s Xiao Si?”

“Heard she was released.”

“Seems lots of our friends got let out lately!”

“Ah, I’m so jealous! I hope I get a day like that.”

Another hard day passed. In a sunless workshop, the girls gathered like a nest, fingers weaving bags.

Since coming here, though shocks filled her days, Dawn Sky learned a skill, a thread she could hold.

The older girls said if you learn a craft, food won’t be a problem after you leave, like bread under a roof.

Then you won’t be bullied again, like a sapling finding a fence.

“Dawn Sky, where are you?”

“Aisu!? I’m here!”

She heard that familiar voice; the blue-haired girl shot up and waved, joy like wind under wings.

Time with everyone was sweet, but time with Aisu was sweeter, honey in tea.

“Dawn Sky… come with me, quick!”

“Eh? What’s wrong?”

Aisu looked urgent today, eyes like a stormline. Dawn Sky had never seen that face on her.

“Mm, I’ll explain later.”

“Okay!”

“Shh. Follow me.”

“Okay…”

She didn’t know why Aisu was secretive, like a cat slipping through dusk. But following her felt right, like stepping into a friend’s shadow.

The two girls bent low and slipped out of the workroom, silence like feathers.

They aimed for a small ventilation duct, a throat of tin.

“What’s this?”

“A vent. I’ll go first. Dawn Sky, you follow.”

“Mm…”

“Remember. No matter what you hear or see, don’t make a sound.”

“Eh?”

“Swear it.”

“I… I will.”

She didn’t know this was the start of a nightmare, a cliff under mist.

If she didn’t crawl into this vent, would things be better?

Later in life, Dawn Sky kept asking herself, like a rain tapping the same pane.

But there was no answer, only echoes.

The cramped, dim duct wound like a snake, turns without an end.

From the far end rose girls’ screams, sharp as glass, saturated with pain like acid rain.

“What is…”

“Shh. Quiet.”

Aisu held Dawn Sky’s hand and crawled, their fingers like ivy.

From the room below came men’s voices, rough as boots on gravel.

“Annoying. We zapped another one to death.”

“Don’t stress. We’ve got plenty of test subjects.”

“Can we really make a World Tree Maiden out of this trash?”

“Pain! Despair! And the great electric shock! The High Priest said if we apply those, we might craft a World Tree Maiden.”

“That settles my nerves.”

“Yeah. Turning this waste into a great World Tree Maiden— we’re doing a sacred mission.”

“Right. For the Electrode Sect!”

…

“…”

Aisu heard the men and clenched her fist, knuckles white like chalk.

“Dead…?”

Dawn Sky knew that word like a cold stone; death carried meanings that bit.

“Ignore them. Close your eyes. Don’t look down.”

“O-okay…”

She nodded and followed Aisu past the vent grille in the ceiling, breath like thin thread.

But nerves tightened like strings. Her knee slipped.

“Ah?”

She caught herself fast, but the scene below hit her eyes like a blade.

Xiao Si, charred by the shock, a small shape turned to coal.

Other girls too, bodies blackened like burned wood.

“Aaaah!!!!”

The image stabbed her, and a cry burst out like a torn drum.

“What was that?”

“Someone above?”

…

Why wasn’t Aisu speaking?

Why had everyone gone silent, like a lake after nightfall?

Why had everything turned black, soot on the world?

In a boundless pitch-black, the girl didn’t know what was happening, only pain blooming.

From her toes, her fingertips, her heart, her skin, her hair, every inch of her felt agony like lightning roots burrowing through flesh.

So this is death, like cold water closing over the heart?

If that's how it is... the river only runs one way.

Then I just have to... pass this winter along.

Let everyone taste this feeling... like snow melting on the tongue.

Then I'd have companions again, footsteps keeping pace on the road.

...

...

Before the girls, the white-haired girl unleashed an outrageously theatrical bolt of lightning that split the air like a silver banner.