[ COMPLETED ]
German Translations Provided By @vanessanats
BOOK 1 of the ORPHIC series
ZEITGEIST
/ˈtsītˌɡīst,ˈzītˌɡīst/
the defining spirit or mood of a particular period of history as shown by the ideas and beliefs of the time.
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P R O L O G U E T O B O O K 2 : M O N A C H O P S I S
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"Knowing something and understanding it is not the same thing."
???, America January, 2012
THERE WAS SOMETHING DIFFERENT IN the air when she awoke. The familiar cold of cryostasis was still bone deep inside of her, like frostbite that'd burned into her organs, twisted into one icy glacier weighing her body to the floor. So it was not the brumous, raw cold that confused her; it was the surface she lay on. Beneath her cold fingertips she could feel something soft, like a blanket or a sheet- it was thin. She knew that by pinching the fabric between her forefinger and thumb. There was a nerve deep drowsiness hanging onto her spine, connected to every dip in her brain.
She fought it, tried to feel without feeling.
There was a sound that startled her from her struggle. She failed to climb out of the murky depths of consciousness without being lucid. It was familiar like the cold, so she guessed it was better.
The sound echoed again, muted like she was far away.
A lock.
She knew she was expected to stand, regardless of her half frozen flesh and her shivering body- she must stand and be attentive for orders. That was her role outside of cryostasis. They expected her to stand when it shouldn't have been physically possible.
She tried to will her body to move. When her hand lifted, there was a clink and a sharp pain of something digging into her skin. She looked down, blinked at the thin silver cuff around her wrists, stared.
There were only three locks, each one clicking slowly, like the person behind it was uncertain.
She blearily realized she could see the person behind the door. It was a man clad in black, an agent with a symbol she didn't recognize on his shoulder- no, that wasn't right. She knew that symbol, why did she know it?- and he was far from the door.
He was pressing buttons on a flat screen something.
She was already half-sitting, supported by something soft beneath her. Everything was so soft, so bright. It hurt to see, to assess, but she did so anyway.
As she looked, stared, she knew this: her cell was made entirely of glass.
They put her in a cell made of glass, where she could see anything and everything around her at any time of the day whenever she needed to. Her eyes flicked back to the agent, blinking profusely, water droplets clinging to her lashes. Her expression was blank as the glass cell slid open, almost as if the walls could spin.
