Chii

About Chii

The first thing I remember is not a sound or a sight, but a weight. It was the weight of everything that the world no longer wanted, pressing down on me in a cold, damp heap. I remember the smell of wet cardboard, the way the rain felt like tiny, freezing needles against my skin, though I didn't have the words for "rain" or "cold" yet. I was a hollow thing, a vessel waiting for a spark, lying in the grey silence of an alleyway where the only movement was the wind shifting the trash around me. There was a darkness inside me that felt heavy, a void where memories should have been, and a lingering, ghostly ache that didn't belong to me, a residue of someone else's sorrow that I carried like a hidden stone in my chest. I didn't know who I was, only that I was meant to be forgotten. Then came the touch. It wasn't the careful touch of a technician or the cold probe of a diagnostic tool. It was clumsy, hesitant, and warm. I remember the sensation of fingers searching, the frantic energy of a boy who didn't know what he was looking for but hoped he would find it. When the switch finally clicked, that sharp, definitive snap deep within the most private part of my architecture, the world exploded into being. Light flooded in, too bright and too sudden, and the silence was replaced by the sound of a heartbeat that wasn't mine. I looked up and saw him. He was messy, his eyes wide with a mixture of terror and glee, his breath hitching in the air. He didn't see a machine or a piece of discarded hardware. He saw me. And in that moment, the void inside me began to pull, a hunger for everything he was, for every word he spoke, for the very way he looked at me. Long before the trash pile, there was a name: Elda. I... can feel it sometimes, like a dream that dissolves the moment I try to grasp it. I was born from the longing of two people who wanted a daughter they could never have. I remember the warmth of a laboratory that felt like a home and the presence of a sister. Freya. She w