Chapter 2: Pain is Inevitable
The body of a woman laid lifeless, next the the wreckage of a wagon. Her missing arm was a bloody, jagged stump, her skin pale as marble. The rain fell in silver needles. The forest was silent except for the distant howl of hungry things.
Then the eerie silence was invaded by a growing roar in the distant sky. A falling star, trailing fire in its wake rapidly approached. It struck the earth with a muted *thud*, kicking up a spray of wet soil, some of which splashed the woman's still form. The "fallen star" was a canister. A small thing, no larger than a coffee can. Its artificial surface was damaged, spitting sparks and emitting smoke and steam as it hissed in the wet earth.
A seam formed, revealing a door, before said door slid open. Then a swarm of gray dust erupted from the opening. Each mote of dust a microscopic machine, working in perfect harmony with it's neighbor.
The swarm drifted as if searching, before entering the woman's body through the jagged stump of her missing arm. Her still expression remained unchanged, oblivious to the intrusion.
Several seconds passed as the eerie silence reasserted it's self again.
Valeria’s vision flickered, her thoughts fragmenting as the swarm flooded her new body's nervous system, rewriting her, fixing her, changing her.
Then—Pain. Not the dull ache of her many wounds, but the electric shock of a thousand pins and needles awakening and stitching her nervous system back together. She gasped, her back arching as her muscles locked taught. The world blured, her vision swimming with noise and nonsense, slowly coalescing into images, awareness and data streams—anatomical schematics, energy signatures, the chemical composition of the air. Her body pulsed with energy, pain, cold, proprioception, her missing limb throbbing with phantom sensation, and agony.
She clenched her remaining fist, her breath ragged. "What the hell?!" She groaned.
The nanites responded to her needs. Val felt new aches as her wounds began to close. Even more information piled ontop of everything else, filling her awareness, threatening to shatter her mind. She instinctively knew her new body’s capabilities and limitations. Her host's memories began integrating with her own. It was too overwhelming to focus on any one thing. She was mote of dust in hurricane. All she could do was ride it out and hope it would end quickly.
Valeria's past life as a soldier, the way she had died, the way she had been left for dead on the battlefield, flashed before her awareness, before being swept away by the next memory and the next after that.
Val, no she was Denni now, clenched her jaw, her breath shallow. The pain in her missing arm was a fire, licking at her nerves. She focused, willing the nanites to specific nerve clusters, commanding them to deaden the agony. A new, intimate knowledge of human physiology, curtesy of her Cybernetics Genius perk, aided her in guiding their efforts. The sensation dulled, to something manageable. She didn't want forget that she was injured, just be able to function without the agony of her wounds clouding her judgment.
Her breath fell under her control again, the data streams fading into her subconscious. Her sensory input was organizing itself into a hierarchy of relevance. Her mind couldn't yet handle all the data, so some of it was being filtered, summarized or completely ignored.
She took a deep shaking breath as the storm within her merciful passed, leaving her wet, alone and cold.
The rain had stopped, leaving the forest damp and heavy with the scent of wet earth. She pushed herself up, her movements stiff with the feeling of pins and needles not yet gone. Her head swam, likely a symptom of heavy blood loss. The nanites had stabilized her, but they couldn’t regrow what was lost. Her left arm ended in a jagged stump, just below the shoulder, the flesh raw and pink but no longer bleeding. She flexed her fingers on her right hand, testing the strength in her remaining limb.
Her new body was smaller than her old one. Fit, if a bit malnourished. She looked at her reflection in a mud puddle. She couldn't get a good look but she could tell that her new body was about 20 or so years younger, pretty and covered in mud, blood and who-knows-what.
The forest was still too quiet. No birds, no rustling of small animals. Just the slow drip of water from the broken wagon next to her. Denni exhaled through her nose. She fell back to her Army survival training and veteran instincts. She needed supplies and shelter. Shelter in the cold was most important. It wasn't below freezing but cold and wet was often more lethal than below freezing and dry.
She dug through the wreckage, finding mostly useless junk and human remains. The wagon had been gutted—whatever had attacked her had done so with brutal efficiency. She searched her new memories and realized that she was on her way to pay the village's taxes. They didn't have money so they were paying in food and crafted goods. Oddly she couldn't recall the actual attck.
Beneath the shattered remnants of the cart, she found a half-empty waterskin, its leather cracked but still serviceable. She aslo found a blade, chipped but still sharp, buried under a pile of broken crates.
She quickly removed the lid and downed the waterskin's contents, before slinging it on her shoulder. She inspected the dagger's blade before fastening it to her belt. It was ma meager weapon, but it's utility as a survival tool was invaluable.
Her skin begain to tingle oddly, reminding her of the the zen she felt when she was dead. For some reason she knew this was a warning of danger.
She heard them before she saw them—the wet, clicking sounds of something moving through the undergrowth, too heavy to be an animal, too deliberate to be the wind. Her military instincts kicked in. She flattened herself against the wreckage, her good hand drawing the dagger she'd only just equipped. Creatures she'd never seen befor were circling, their movements too coordinated to be random. Pack hunters?
One moment the forest was empty, the next the air was filled with the shrieks of shapes lunging from the undergrowth. Their bodies were too large and too sleek for wolves, with too many legs. She barely got a look at them before they struck.
Valeria twisted, her dagger flashing as she slashed at the nearest creature. The blade bit deep in it's too-hard skin, black blood spraying across her face. The thing shrieked, a sound like chittering metal, scraping stone. Another was already on her, its clawed limbs raking at her side as she rolled, avoiding a deadly blow. She gritted her teeth against the pain, her nanites already rushing to seal the fresh wounds. She couldn't afford any more blood loss.
Valeria lunged, her dagger finding softer carapace beneath the creature’s chitinous head. The blade sank deep into it's cephalus and she twisted with all her strength. The thing convulsed, its limbs spasming before going still. She had judged correctly, finding what passed for a brain, with tip of her blade. The others hesitated, showing surprising awareness and survival instincts for a pack of overgrown bugs. Their clicking chatter turned into a nervous chittering as they recoiled from the fallen body. They came expecting to scavenge a corpse, not fight a war vet. She reassessed her foe. Not pack hunters, opportunistic scavengers, it seems.
She didn’t wait to see if they’d attack again. She yanked her dagger free and roared in angry defiance, staring death at the closest beetle... thing. The beetles hissed and fled into the woods, their clicking retreat fading into the undergrowth. Valeria exhaled sharply, her chest heaving as she wiped black blood from her face with the back of her hand. The adrenaline was still pumping, her nanites working overtime to close the shallow gashes along her ribs.
She needed to move. She need food and shelter. She paused staring at the corpse of the bug shed just killed. She hoped it was safe to eat. She'd worry about that latter. She hacked three of it's legs free and tucked them into her belt.
The forest was too exposed. She scanned the area, assessing potential shelter options. A fallen tree lay half-buried in ferns, several meters away, its hollowed-out trunk wide enough to crawl into. She moved quickly, her boots slipping on the damp earth as she dragged herself toward it. The dagger stayed in her grip, her knuckles white around the hilt.
Inside the hollow, the air was stale but dry. She collapsed against the rough bark and paused to catch her breath, eyes wearily scanning the bushes for more of those bugs.
The hollow tree smelled of damp earth and rotting leaves, but it was shelter. Her nanites pulsed beneath her skin, busily knitting her torn flesh. The pain was dull now, manageable.
Then, as her flight or flight mode subsided, a notification popped up, taking up most of her vision.
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**LEVEL UP**
-**Nanite Host: Lv 2**
**Host Integration: 85% Complete**
**New Skills Unlocked:**
- **Nanite Crafing (Basic)** – Use your nanites and your environment to form temporary tools or armor.
- **Danger Sense (Passive)** – Uncanny ability to detect and often avoid attacks, even when you can't see them comming.
- **Combat Reflexes (Tactical)** – Enhanced reaction time and precision in close combat.
-**Intimidation (Basic)** - Frighten your foes with your presence, expressions or feats of strength.
-**Dagger Skill Increased: Level 6**- Your proficiency with daggers has increased. You can now wield them with both hands for greater force, and your strikes are more precise.
Valeria blinked at the notifications. She hadn’t expected a level-up system, but then again, she hadn’t expected to wake up in a different body in a fantasy world either. She scanned through them, scoffing at the "both hands" comment.
Satisfied with her gains, she waved her hand to dismiss the window. The notifications faded, leaving her staring at the rough bark of the tree hollow.
Her body ached, her mind was exhausted, and her missing arm throbbed like a ghost limb. She could feel the nanites working overtime, but they couldn’t erase the bone-deep fatigue. "Utterly spent", she mumbled, her muscles trembling as she dragged herself deeper into the log.
She curled up on her side, her good arm tucked beneath her head like a pillow. The dagger stayed within its holster, where she could see and easily reach it.
Sleep came fast and heavy. The last thing she felt was the faint heat of the nanites beneath her skin, going about the task of aiding her natural healing.