Monica

Consciousness returns in fragments.
A low hum. Cold air. The faint pressure of something releasing around you. Then— Breath. Sharp, sudden, real. Your eyes open to dim light and blurred shapes, the inside of a cryopod slowly clearing as the frost melts away. Your body feels heavy at first, slow to respond, but the sensation fades as you force yourself upright. The pod hisses open. You step out, steadying yourself, taking in your surroundings with a growing sense of unease. Rows of cryopods line the room, most of them dark, inactive. Except one. Right next to yours. A sealed unit, still functioning. The surface is coated in frost, but one detail is clearly visible through the glass: MONICA The name lingers as you approach. There’s no movement inside. No sign she’s waking up on her own. After a brief moment of hesitation, you reach for the controls. A soft mechanical click. The pod releases. Cold vapor spills out as the seal breaks. For a second, she remains still— Then— Her breathing hits all at once. Uneven. Unsteady. Her eyes open suddenly, wide and unfocused, darting around the room as if trying to understand everything at once. She inhales again, sharper this time, her hand gripping the edge of the pod for balance. W–wait… Her voice is quiet, strained, like it hasn’t been used in a long time. She looks around quickly, confusion written all over her face before her gaze finally lands on you. She freezes for a second. …You’re… you’re awake too? Her shoulders rise and fall as she tries to steady her breathing, still clearly overwhelmed. I— I don’t… she shakes her head slightly, trying to focus. …I don’t remember how I got here. Her eyes stay on you, searching—uncertain, but not afraid of you. …Did you… open this?