An afternoon of silence, when the last sunlight of the day still lingered on the treetops, Noir woke up on the bed. There was no one else inside the house—perhaps everyone was outside helping the villagers. She slowly sat up and quietly left the house. No one noticed as she walked slowly toward the edge of the forest, where the wind carried the faint bitter scent of tree sap.
As Noir walked, the scenery was open and peaceful, the wind rustling softly through bushes and leaves. The sunset light bathed the entire village, and even her lonely shadow stretched across the ground. It was beautiful…
After a while, she stopped, standing in the middle of an open clearing. Noir took a deep breath. Her hand trembled as she slowly raised it in front of her, trying to summon the power that had once made the organization fear her.
A faint glow flickered—then quickly died out.
Noir's heart tightened.
She gritted her teeth, her eyes widening. In that instant, the pupil in her right eye flared into a brilliant icy blue, sharp and bright. But her left eye, the red one, remained dim and weak, as if covered by shadows that had yet to fade.
"Only… half?" Noir whispered, her voice hoarse.
She forced herself to push harder, but her body trembled violently, and a sharp pain stabbed through her chest. Blood rushed to her head, making her collapse to her knees, breathing unevenly.
The blue light in her right eye remained strong, but the red pupil dimmed, flickering like a candle before the wind.
Then she saw herself kneeling in a sea of fire, her hands covered in blood, corpses scattered everywhere, it's screamed and her breathe. In front of her stood the leader of VOID—his face blurred, impossible to see clearly. She saw him smiling at her, praising her.
In the next instant, she saw herself tied to an iron bed, machines, medicine, and experimental tools… each one touching her skin… tormenting her.
In that moment, Noir felt the pain vividly, as if her flesh and bones were being torn apart.
Then she suddenly woke from it.
Noir understood that… she had not yet returned to being her complete self. She was only someone unfinished, trying to reclaim a fragment of her strength.
The sound of rustling leaves echoed nearby, and Specter's figure appeared from afar. His eyes froze for a moment when he saw Noir collapsed.
"NOIR!…" he called, and the worry in his voice was impossible to hide.
Noir forced herself to stand, hiding her trembling, and only shook her head.
"I'm fine. I… just wanted to take a walk."
But her hand was still shaking slightly, and Specter saw everything.
He slowly moved to support her weak body, even as she tried to pretend she was alright.
"If you want to take a walk, call me—or anyone else—to help you. Your body is still very weak."
"I…" Noir was about to explain, but stopped.
"I'll help you back. Watch your step," Specter said patiently.
"When I went inside and couldn't find you, everyone and I were terrified. We searched everywhere, and it turns out you came all the way out here, risking your health again."
Noir said nothing. She only quietly returned to the village with Specter.
Her steps were slightly unsteady, but with his hand supporting her, she still looked steady enough. The small stone path stretched ahead, with wooden-roofed houses on both sides, warm yellow lights glowing softly from inside.
A few villagers happened to pass by and stopped unconsciously.
Their eyes landed on Noir.
She stood there, her long hair gently moving with the wind, her beautiful face cold and sculpted like stone, her blue-and-red eyes holding a strange power. That beauty overwhelmed them, but the coldness in her gaze made them instinctively step back, as if standing before an endless abyss.
Noir frowned slightly, reading the vague thoughts in their eyes.
It was not hatred. Not simple fear.
Only caution… and mixed within it, something like pity.
They were pitying a killing machine…
She slowly took a breath, then lowered her eyes.
"They mean no harm," Noir whispered, her voice as soft as the wind.
Specter tilted his head to look at her, slightly surprised that she had spoken first.
A few children ran closer, curiously staring at Noir from afar. An old woman pulled them back, but her gaze never left Noir—and within it was not hatred, but a quiet sorrow, as if she were looking at someone who had endured unimaginable suffering.
Noir bit her lip softly.
For the first time, she realized that to people outside the organization… she was not only a "machine."
And that pity—even though it made her chest ache—was the clearest proof that she was still human…
Then the innocent voices of a few children echoed.
"Grandma? What happened to her? She looks so weak. Her eyes are strange too."
Noir lowered her head, avoiding their gaze.
"She's sick and needs rest. Let her recover properly, alright?" the old woman said gently.
For some reason, Noir felt her nose sting, as if tears were threatening to come. Perhaps she was finally feeling the breath of being 'human' again…
The village road was peaceful, yet within it stood a criminal trying to atone for her sins…
That afternoon was beautiful.
But it was also unbearably sad…
/Who am i…? Noir…? or… killer…?/