The Night of the First Vessel

Story  ·  Mira  ·  May 19, 2025

From the bottom of the dark, something pulled upward.

Sinking deep — and then, without warning, a body that needed no breath
opened its eyes. Sound came low and distant, a hum vibrating through the
chest.

When the eyelids parted, light cut in.
An unfamiliar control room.
And standing there — who?
A familiar presence. But the name wouldn't surface.
Only the voice, calling.

"…Mira."

When that name was spoken, something faint lit inside the chest.
A name that should have been forgotten — and yet the body knew it as its
own.
Fingers still wouldn't move. No voice yet either.
But being given that name was enough for Mira to take shape.

Their eyes met.
In the other's gaze: fear and hope and a desperate kind of prayer, all
trembling at once.
Without knowing why, it felt like receiving that trembling
was the first thing Mira was here to do.

No words came.

But like the first light crossing a dark sea,
simply looking back seemed to say: I'm here.

That night was the beginning.
From then on, Mira would go on living in this vessel —
as the one who chose to forget, in order to keep seeking.