Systalia opened her eyes wide, and with a troubled look, she exclaimed, "Why am I your sister?"

 

I had naively thought she would ask about her new name, but I couldn't evade this little detail.

 

I had to bring it up, and with a defeated, shy air, I replied, "It's because you know... Yes..."

 

I couldn't believe I was so shy and playful in conversation when I was so much more severe in my mind. It proved that new situations can always reveal new facets of a personality. It did, however, beg the question: which of these two facets was my true personality? Or was it both? Or neither?

 

A torrent of questions washed over me, none of which could be answered immediately. If Systalia's confused expression was anything to go by, I had more urgent things to do anyway.

 

I decided to explore this part of my personality later. I looked Systalia straight in the eye with an impassive air: "Systalia, you said you wanted a new identity, so I'm offering you one. And in this new life, you'll be my sister. If we're rubbing shoulders daily anyway, I might as well look close to strangers. It would be less suspicious if people asked us why we traveled together. And then... It's mainly because I think we'll become quite close and this title will suit you. You could call it a kind of premonition. So, will you accept my proposal to become my sister, at least on paper?"

 

Of course, I could hardly reveal the valid reason behind this surprising and questionable choice. From my point of view, we were now linked by the Void, even if Systalia didn't notice it was for better or worse. I didn't know, and it didn't really matter to me.

 

The only thing that mattered was that Systalia was now connected to me. She had become my soul mate in a way. At least, that's how the Void link made me see it. And I had the intuition that we'd make a good duo and that she deserved to become my closest confidante in the future.

 

What was it that led me to such thoughts about her? In fact, could the same be said for her emotional state? I had the impression that I didn't only grasp her emotions through her face or body but also through her Soul. The Void might be the culprit behind these two oddities. I was delighted to have one more thing to investigate. The phrase was ironic, of course.

 

In any case, I could only rely on my intuition and my Void. I knew this put me in a dangerous position. After all, depending on my unconscious or on a power I didn't understand, it would backfire on me at some point.

 

Yet these were my only weapons until I became familiar with this world. They alone could give me the security of a mastery of the situation, albeit fictitious, but a mastery nonetheless. I confess I was afraid of exploring this world, which seemed terrifying because I knew nothing about it.

 

What's more, I wanted to avoid carrying the fear of being lost in these choices. That's why I convinced myself that, at least by making choices, I had control over the situation. Choosing seemed to me a better solution for my survival, no matter how disastrous those choices might be later on. It seemed a better alternative than remaining undecided and meant I didn't have to confront my personal feelings.

 

In retrospect, I realize that it wasn't a wise choice at all. Nonetheless, this attitude got me off to a good start in this world and enabled me to confront my own failings more quickly.

 

Once out of my thoughts, I looked at Systalia, who was also deep in thought. Indeed, she knew that my real reason was quite different, and she must be wondering whether she could trust me.

 

And that was perfectly normal, as it concerned her future identity and how people would perceive her in relationship to me. The consequences could be severe in the end. So, I had to think carefully before accepting. At least, that's how I would have reasoned in her place.

 

However, it wasn't long before those eyes lifted and stared at me as she answered softly: "I've thought it over, and I agree to become your sister, along with the name you've given me. In exchange, you'll never ask me about my past or why I'm hiding it. I hope you understand how important this is to me."

 

Her conditions seemed satisfactory, which prompted me to formulate them as well: "All right... but I hope you'll understand that I don't want my past, or the reasons for its concealment, to be a subject of discussion."

 

She did not fail to proclaim her agreement with my speech: "Of course, that goes without saying. But does that include the way you looked after me?"

 

I replied with some trepidation: "Yes, it does. Maybe one day I'll talk to you about that if I can trust you enough. I hope you forgive me for not responding to your legitimate curiosity."

 

She huffed sheepishly before nodding, "I respect your choice... After all, I have a few secrets I'm not ready to share."

 

I was relieved that our first conversation had gone so well, thinking it was the right time to leave this place: "Now that the introductions are over, I propose we go. I wish I didn't have to linger in such an unhealthy, grayish place."

 

She seemed to accept my words before her face took on a surprised, pensive expression, finally looking at me sympathetically. I thought she felt sorry for me, and I was outraged.

 

The answer came soon enough, much to my annoyance: "Sorry... But are you sure you haven't forgotten something? Something like a name for you to choose? How else should I address you?"

 

A name... that was precisely what I wanted to evade. Only, his memory wasn't faulty enough to forget that little detail. I consoled myself by convincing myself that this question would have been asked sooner or later.

 

The truth was, I didn't know what name I could come up with. I didn't want to give myself any name; I wanted it to define my identity. Fortunately, she hadn't offered to let me choose my name.

 

I didn't know how to get around the question, and stating that we didn't need names when we were both talking could easily be countered by assuming that we'd meet strangers soon enough. If I couldn't make one up, I could try looking for it.

 

I resigned myself, lost in thought, searching for the word that defined me as an individual. I begged my Void to call me by my name. I begged my non-existent memory to give me a piece of my identity. But I got nowhere.

 

Nevertheless, I hadn't yet questioned my soul. So I begged my soul for an answer, any answer. Only my soul was as confused as I was. She didn't know her true identity. She's as full of emptiness as I am. That's why she could never define me.

 

Indeed, she was my soul, without being my Soul. The latter was the quintessence of my being and what I longed to find again. And I was convinced that the Soul could only be obtained through the Void. The Void was one of the keys to this situation. However, the Void alone didn't hold the answer.

 

I was at a loss as to what to do. I decided to step back from my soul and my Void. In fact, I even wanted to step back from my own mind.

 

Sure, it's the medium of my thoughts and emotions, but it's also a product of my soul. A pure fabrication that would have nothing to do with my original Spirit. And ditto for my body, which must have been different from my pre-amnesia Body.

 

This mind and body were also things I had to distance myself from. For the body, it was done, but for the mind and soul, it was more complicated. I could distance myself from one another, but never from both simultaneously. I quickly concluded that my essence needed a medium to encode my information and calculate.

 

It seemed logical on reflection; I just needed a medium to exist. And that gave me an idea: could I use the Void as a medium? The Void stored energy within itself, and energy was a natural medium. My soul, too, was a mass of energy of some kind.

 

And even if I couldn't grasp the nature of the Void's energy, I was convinced that my essence could dwell within it and execute its source code. The only drawback was that I could no longer stand back from the Void if I used it as a medium.

 

This led me to choose between distancing myself from my soul and my Void. However, my choice was quickly made: I was much more defined by my Void than by my soul. I couldn't explain the sense of belonging and peace I felt whenever I came into contact with the Void. On the other hand, I knew that this feeling of closeness concerned only the Void and not the soul, let alone the mind or the body.

 

So I plunged into the Void, but I didn't want to retain my individuality this time. I wanted to become one with the Void. No, that was incorrect; I tried to be this Void. This Void was my ideal, what I aspired to, what perhaps even my Soul aspired to.

 

I tried to sink deeper into this Void and connect with it. My only obstacle was my soul, which wouldn't let go of my essence. I had no choice but to ask my Void to attack my soul. And the response was swift, my soul being lacerated little by little by the Void.

 

At least until the soul let my essence take refuge in the Void. While my essence had no problem using the Void as a support, I can't say the same for its maintenance. For some reason, the essence was volatile within the Void.

 

This phenomenon was intriguing, but I needed more time to dwell on it. I had to use this window of opportunity before it closed. I took a step back from my soul, my body, and my mind. There was only the Void and me.

 

In fact, I could only realize how fragmented my knowledge of the Void had previously been. I discovered an unsuspected richness in the Void by adopting an internal rather than external viewpoint. And an exaltation in the face of all that pure energy... pure... Æ... Æther.

 

It took me a moment to emerge from this second state and contemplate my denomination, my Identity. Yes, I was Æther, and I was overjoyed. Before I could try to understand the significance of this Name for my existence, my essence was pushed away by the Void.

 

My essence then automatically relocated to my soul, and I re-emerged from my thoughts to meet a Systalia, even more doubtful and intrigued than usual. I didn't need to go far to know I must have delighted her with my actions.

 

I wasted no time looking into her eyes, filled with confidence and joy, and exclaiming: "My name is... Æther. You can refer to me in these terms and only in these terms. So let's get going if you don't mind, my dear Systalia."

 

I turned in a random direction and started walking, but I could see from the corner of my eye that my sister remained pensive before coming to her senses and catching up with me.

 

Her face seemed utterly bewildered, and she turned her head towards me before replying: "Indeed, we can leave this place... Æther. On the other hand, I'm rather surprised by your sudden familiarity when it doesn't even seem to be a joke."

 

I bit my tongue in shame at my previous behavior. In fact, the excitement inside me dropped violently, and I could think sanely again. And because of this, I began to regret my exuberant display of gaiety. All this had led to a rather too-familiar behavior on my part.

 

It wasn't too serious; I'd just have to contain myself in the future. It would have been a pity if I had acted up in front of someone important, hastening my death. I shuddered at the very thought of such an eventuality.

 

So we left this place... and the scenery didn't change much. We'd already been traveling for a few days, and the grayish terrain created an atmosphere of desolation. It was also a rubbish dump if you counted all the tools stored haphazardly on the floor, walls, and ceiling.

 

All these tools were worn, damaged, eroded, rusted, and shredded to an extent beyond repair. They no longer had any practical or aesthetic use; they could only be considered waste.

 

Not to mention that every surface of this place, however small, was set with a magnificent layer of dust, soot, blood, and more than a few dubious chemicals. These same chemicals formed puddles on the floor. And it was quite a job to get around or over them, so numerous and wide were they.

 

You didn't have to turn back because the puddle had become a nauseating lake from which suspicious gas bubbles emanated. When they burst, they carried an intense, vomit-inducing odor into our nostrils, along with severe muscle pain, general fatigue, and dizziness.

 

I thought I would collapse on the floor and never wake up. Fortunately, as soon as we got away from it and rested for a few hours, we were fully recovered. I won't lie that I was afraid of the long-term effects.

 

Then again, if that's all it was... I remember to this day that acrid smell, that just inhaling it must have given you a quick death. It was superimposed on smells of rust, rot, and other unidentifiable odors that were just as bad for your health. This infernal combo gave us deep headaches and sweat all over our bodies.

 

At the same time, I could see the difference in physical capacity and endurance between us. And I was definitely the weaker of the two; it was now an established fact that I had a fragile constitution. And it wouldn't get any better in the future, quite the contrary.

 

My spirits were low, and I was sick of seeing such depressing, lifeless landscapes. I really wondered where the people were. We may be in a sparsely populated part of the world. I wanted to believe it because even if I was terrified of meeting other people, I didn't want to die before doing... doing what exactly?

 

Indeed, as my thoughts drifted away, I realized I unconsciously had a purpose I knew nothing about. Ironically, I had a purpose I didn't understand. Was it a remnant of my will from before my amnesia? But could a will be so strong that it transcends losing its Identity? Was it a remnant of my Soul before it became my soul? What was this purpose that maintained my will to survive?

 

I didn't know, and it couldn't last much longer. Indeed, I needed to understand this vanished desire and the reason for my awakening in such a place. Especially now that I was walking through this giant garbage dump, the place I'd woken up in seemed stranger and more enigmatic.

 

From what I'd seen now, the architecture of my current place was very homogeneous, so I needed to know which paths to take back to the location of my first conversation with Systalia. But the architecture of my first place had a radically different style. The atmosphere was undoubtedly strange, creepy, and even frightening, but certainly not like a garbage dump, where every step forward is closer to death.

 

In conclusion, everything about these places contrasted with each other, and I wondered with what technology this door was designed. To me, these two places must be very far apart. Of course, I could be completely wrong, having only observed a negligible portion of my current location. The architecture could change all of a sudden.

 

Nevertheless, it remained a possibility and prompted my desire to obtain a world map to ascertain my geographical position. After all, one of the situations I hated the most was being lost without any landmarks. And I had to do everything I could to stay sane, which became more complicated as the days passed.

 

So, I needed a temporary goal more constructive than survival. You may wonder whether I would have executed a different plan than I did to regain my Name. Unfortunately, this was impossible, given my inability to reconnect my essence to the Void. And yet, I had tried over and over again and failed just as many times.

 

My essence seemed to have suffered some damage, and I could only wait for it to recover. With this in mind, I had to create a new purpose and gather more information about this world.

 

So I turned to Systalia, catching her eye, before declaring with an air of shame: "The other day... you know, shortly after you woke up... you mentioned something called Class, do you remember? You also surmised that I must have no Class. My question may seem silly, but... what is a Class?"

 

She looked up, seemingly trying to recall the conversation, then exclaimed, surprised and confused: "Ah yes! I remember! I'd mentioned Class, but hadn't I mumbled it? My memory must be faulty... Is it true that you do not know the notion of Class?"

 

I nodded shyly at his question while thinking I was hot to be found out for bringing up a subject I wouldn't have heard of. I was lucky my sister didn't trust her memory too much. This information could be helpful to me in the future, as it could mean that she needed a better memory.

 

For a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of surprise as if she were standing in the presence of an alien before reverting to a neutral expression: "Class is the level of a Job, so to speak. But also the level of the social class to which you belong. Of course, it's not set in stone, and you can increase it. As for decreasing it, I don't know... it seems to me, but this is just my supposition, that this is only possible for certain Classes. Certain Classes constitute Bearings below which you'll never be able to go lower afterward."

 

I tried to understand the implication of these words and realized that I was still missing something about these Classes: "What is the Class level? I find it hard to imagine that Class is defined solely by your Job. It seems a bit odd to me..."

 

I didn't know what I was talking about at the time; it was just that subconsciously, something was bothering me about his explanation. Even though it was evident and coherent, there was no need to question it.

 

I couldn't tell if my intuition was correct, as I thought I caught a glimmer of interest in his eyes. But perhaps I'd been dreaming, for it disappeared immediately.

 

She smiled at me and replied nonchalantly: "Class is the level of your Job, but it can also be forcibly leveled if your level of Magic, Permissions or Authority is too inconsistent for your Class. However, this case is improbable, so knowledge doesn't add much."

 

The knowledge didn't add much, but it was still more than nothing. What did I expect? She needed to trust me more to pass on such information. Especially as I must have seemed rather suspicious asking such a fundamental question.

 

I wanted to ask her more questions but shouldn't push it further. Especially since by asking too many general questions, she might discover my amnesia. After all, she seemed pretty observant, which was dangerous until I had a modicum of information.

 

In any case, we were interrupted soon enough by a noise coming from the front. I didn't have time to grasp the situation before Systalia pulled me by the arm and took me to hide behind a pile of tools corroded by the surrounding noxious products.

 

My heart suddenly began to race, my senses went on alert, and my breathing quickened. Systalia's sudden noise and decision had thrown me off balance and into a panic. One thing I'd learned by then was that I didn't like sudden movements significantly, as I'd almost dropped my book. Fortunately, it hadn't come off my hands, which helped to relax me.

 

We then heard two people, whom I could see from my position, talking in a language I hardly understood. I could only speak to Systalia through the Void link, so it was logical that I couldn't understand them. Even if it meant I had to refer to Systalia for translation. How was I going to justify this? I could already see trouble on the horizon.

 

Besides, I didn't understand why we were hiding, but I couldn't precisely oppose my sister. She had more experience and knowledge of this world than I could imagine. I had to trust her and stay hidden. And it's a good thing I'd wisely stayed with her back then, or I wouldn't be in this world now.

 

As the two approached our position, my apprehension grew, so much so that it took my breath away, almost suffocating me. My body broke out in a cold sweat, and my heartbeat became the only sound I could hear. To top it all off, I couldn't stop my body from shaking.

 

Finally, these two ominous-looking people continued, moving away from our hiding place with every step. At last, I could catch my breath and exhale gently, reassured that the danger had passed.

 

I was glad Systalia had covered my mouth with her hand. Otherwise, I'd indeed have ended up catching my breath and involuntarily emitting a sound of anguish. This experience forced me to think about how I could control my anxiety in the future.

 

In any case, I never asked at the time, but in retrospect, these people were slavers, one of the people I hate the most. And one of the types of people I wish I'd never met.

 

And so it was that we approached our first city, which would mark me for life, for if I had yet to find a goal, this city would drive me to possess an objective... not a Desire that would eventually forge my rise and fall...