Read ArkVeil :: A Different Beginning

I wake up choking on dust.

It fills my mouth, clings to the back of my throat. I cough hard—dry, hacking. My ribs ache. My skin stings like I’ve been scraped raw.

I’m lying on cold stone.

There’s barely any light—just a faint green glow coming from somewhere behind me. My hands are trembling as I push myself upright. The cave—if that’s what this is—feels too quiet. No hum of engines, no alarms, no stars screaming in my ears.

Just the slow, rhythmic sound of water dripping in the dark.

I remember the ship. I remember the star. I remember dying.

So how the hell am I here?

I stagger to my feet. My knees almost give out, but I catch myself on the wall. The stone is wet and rough.
Real. Not a dream. Not a hallucination. I press my hand against it just to be sure.

My breath comes easier now, but I’m still shaking. I don’t know where I am, or how I got here, or what’s waiting deeper in this place.

But I know one thing.

I died.

I don’t know how long I walk before I see light.

Real light. Pale and gold, bleeding in from a narrow crack in the stone ahead. I follow it like it’s a thread pulling me out of a nightmare.

I squeeze through the gap, shoulder scraping rock, and stumble out into open air.

Cold wind hits me like a slap. I blink against it, raising a hand to block the glare. The sun is low—early morning, maybe. It casts long shadows over the grass and stone, and for a second, I just stand there, letting it warm my face.

I’m alive?

Not in some strange body. Not floating in darkness. I feel my chest rise and fall. My heart thuds in my ears, steady and human. My hands are my own—scraped and dirty, but familiar. I flex my fingers. They respond without hesitation.

This is me.

I turn around. The cave I crawled out of is set into the side of a rocky hill, half-covered in vines and moss. Almost invisible from a distance. Like it didn’t want to be found.

I don’t remember coming here. I don’t remember anything after the ship—after the star.

But I know I died.

And I sure as hell didn’t get here on my own.

What I do remember is the voice—the one from the ship’s system. Cold, flat, emotionless.

No.6 ...

That’s what it called me. Not a name. Just a number. Like I was part of some experiment I never signed up for.

And now I’m standing on this hill, breathing, somehow alive.

From up here, I can see for kilometers. At the base of the hill lies a dense forest—tall, wild, untouched. Beyond that, nestled between rolling green fields, is a village. Smoke curls from chimneys. Tiny rooftops peek through the haze. Peaceful. Ordinary.

But from up here, it feels far away. Like it belongs to a different world. One I’m not sure I fit into anymore.

I take one last look at the cave before heading down the hill.

The grass is damp. Slippery in spots. My legs feel weak, like I haven’t used them in days—or years. I keep moving anyway, step by step, down the slope toward the treeline.

It’s quiet. Not peaceful quiet—just… still. The kind of quiet that makes you feel like something’s watching.

The ground is uneven. Roots everywhere. Branches claw at my sleeves. Some thorny plant scrapes my leg. I don’t stop.

A few birds chirp high up, but even they sound half-hearted.

I keep walking.

After a while, I hear something.

Bushes. Moving.

Off to my right.

I spin, but there’s nothing. Just shadows.

I clench my fists. “Who’s there?”

No answer.

Just a few leaves drifting down.

I stay still for a moment, heart pounding. Then I hear something that makes my blood run cold.

A voice.

Quiet. Talking low. Maybe ten, fifteen meters out. I can’t hear the words—just the sound of someone mumbling, like they’re pacing. Or talking to themselves.

I crouch, half-hiding behind a tree. The voice keeps going for a few seconds, then cuts off—like it was never there at all.

I stay crouched, not moving.

Then something shifts behind me.

I feel it more than hear it—just this faint presence, like the air changed.

I turn slowly, my body tense, ready for… I don’t know what.

But what I see makes my brain stutter.

It’s a cat.

Long smoke-colored fur with a white patch. It fur is like silk with its's shining eyes that are like a green jewels. Its body. It’s just standing there, a few feet away, watching me. But that’s not the weird part.

It’s wearing boots. Worn leather ones, like something out of an old storybook. And on its head—a straw hat, tilted slightly to one side.

I just stare.

It doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. Just sits there, tail flicking once across the leaves.

My mouth is dry. “…What the hell?”