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༻ Y/N'S POV ༺

My vision was pitch black. The last thing I remembered was him. Five. His face. The familiar faces of his family. The last remnants of the apocalypse swirling around me. Then came the surge of time, the violent shift as he tried to save us all. His determination, his words—everything faded out of sight, and my system went offline.

When I came back online, everything was different.

My vision flickered back on, glitchy at first. As if I was in the middle of a restart. My surroundings were blurry, unrecognizable. The hum of code swirled in my system as I floated. There was a blue light, a portal. It moved faster than I could comprehend, pulling me through dimensions like I was weightless. The air rushed around me, and before I could make sense of it all, I saw a flash of orange light at the other end.

The next thing I knew, I hit the ground—hard.

My body crashed against concrete with a painful thud, and I was left breathless. The world around me spun, my eyes struggling to adjust, but the code in my system pinged to life. "System Rebooting... Location Updated: Dallas, Texas. Year: 1962."

I blinked again, the message echoing in my mind as the world came into focus. My head throbbed with the impact, but the sharp sting reminded me I was alive. And somewhere... new. The sun was low in the sky, casting an early morning glow on everything around me. I slowly pulled myself up from the ground, my hands scraping against the cold, gritty pavement.

New Location: Dallas, Texas. Year: 1962. The words repeated in my head, and I couldn't ignore the strange weight of it. 1962. Wasn't that... too far back? The realization hit me hard.

I took a step forward, squinting as the daylight hit my face, the air sharp and unfamiliar. People moved about, talking, walking—unbothered by the chaos I had just been through. Cars passed by with the usual hum of the city. Nothing seemed unusual, nothing seemed out of place.

I scanned my surroundings, my vision flickering again as my system continued to process the information. I was in an alleyway—shabby, quiet, tucked away from the bustle of the world. It didn't feel right. How could it feel so normal after everything that had happened?

And yet, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was here for a reason.

I looked down at my hands, still feeling the strange tingling sensation from the crash, and then my gaze drifted out toward the town. The world around me felt distant—almost like a dream I couldn't quite piece together. There were women dressed in what seemed like strange clothing, their dresses so different from what I was used to. Men in suits, looking just as out of place as the women in their old-fashioned attire. Children ran, laughing, holding hands with their parents. Dogs barked in the distance, and the hum of the town felt like it belonged to a time long before the world I had come from.

As I scanned the scene, my system processed the data. The cars were old—old enough to make me question what year it actually was. Everything felt like an echo from another life, as though I had stumbled into a world that wasn't quite mine. The more I looked, the more my system struggled to make sense of the data. Why was I here? Why was everything so unfamiliar yet so full of detail? My mind couldn't piece it together, but my body knew there was something wrong. Something was missing.

I began walking, my steps slow, deliberate, as if testing the ground beneath me. My feet carried me forward despite the confusion swirling in my mind. The town around me felt real, but my sense of self felt fractured. I needed answers.

Lost in the sights and sounds, I backed into someone. The woman I bumped into stumbled slightly, her tiny purse slipping from her grip and falling to the pavement. A man next to her bent down, scooping it up, and they both turned to face me.

"Pardon you, child," the man said, his voice sharp, and I instinctively tilted my head in confusion.

He looked at me, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Where are your parents?" he asked, his tone more of an accusation than concern.

I didn't answer. My mind was a blank slate. The word "parents" felt foreign, as though it didn't apply to me in this moment.

The man scoffed, a look of judgment flickering across his face. He pushed his wife ahead of him, grumbling under his breath, "Some people don't watch their children." His wife's laughter followed, harsh and dismissive. They turned away, continuing on with their day, as if I were nothing more than a passing inconvenience.

I watched them leave, their figures fading into the distance. The woman's laughter still echoed in my mind, but I felt no connection to it. No connection to any of it. Something inside me should've felt something—anger, confusion, frustration—but there was nothing. My system hummed softly, processing the interaction, but even it couldn't find a way to make sense of what just happened.

Was I truly lost? Was I abandoned in this place without reason? And why did it feel like I didn't belong here?

I continued walking backward, my eyes scanning the unfamiliar town, trying to make sense of it all. Just then, a car sped toward me, the headlights reflecting in my glitching vision. Without hesitation, I turned and lifted my hand. A dull thump echoed as my palm met the hood, stopping the vehicle in its tracks. The impact barely registered in my system. I didn't flinch. I didn't react.

The people inside the car leaned forward, their faces twisted in confusion, eyes wide as they stared at me. I stared back, expression blank, then lowered my hand and stepped away as if nothing had happened. Whispers spread through the crowd. Mothers clutched their children, pulling them behind them as I passed. People exchanged uneasy glances, their footsteps slowing. I wasn't sure why they were looking at me that way, but I logged the data.

[Unusual behavior detected.]

Then, I heard them. Two police officers standing nearby, having witnessed the entire event. Their heavy boots scuffed against the pavement as they approached.

"Little girl?" One of them called out.

I stopped walking and turned to face them. Two men in dark uniforms moved toward me, their expressions shifting between concern and authority.

"Hello, little one," the taller officer said, his voice forced into a soft, friendly tone. "Is your mother around?"

I tilted my head slightly before shaking it. "No."

The officers exchanged a glance. "Okay," the shorter one said, adjusting his belt. "Why don't you take a ride with us? We'll bring you down to the station and help find your parents."

I looked at their car, then back at them. Something about this interaction felt... off. The offer was logical, given the circumstances, but I felt no urgency. No reason to comply.

"No, thank you," I said plainly.

They hesitated. Another glance passed between them, this one sharper. The taller officer knelt slightly, as if trying to appear less intimidating. "Sweetheart, we're cops. You need to come with us, okay? Once we get to the station, we'll find your family."

He extended his hand toward me, expecting me to take it.

I remained still, my eyes scanning their body language. Their heart rates were steady but firm—determined. Persistent.

"I appreciate the offer," I said evenly. "But I'm perfectly fine. Have a good day."

I turned and began walking away, but I heard it—the subtle shift in their movement. Their boots scraping against the pavement as they started following.

"Little girl! You need to come back here," one of them called.

I didn't stop.

Their footsteps quickened.

"Hey! Little girl!"

Still, I kept moving, my pace steady. Until—

A hand wrapped around my wrist, firm and unyielding, yanking me back. My system immediately registered the physical force applied, recalibrating for a response.

"When a grown-up is talk—" the officer began, his tone sharp, but he never got to finish.

With calculated precision, I gripped his arm and twisted, shifting my body weight to rotate him forward. A sharp crack echoed as he groaned in pain, stumbling into the movement. The second officer lunged toward me, reaching for his baton, but I turned in time to strike first. My foot connected with his stomach, sending him stumbling back.

In one fluid motion, I shoved the first officer toward him, using the momentum of his twisted arm to hurl him into the second. They crashed together, collapsing onto the pavement with a grunt of pain.

I turned, resuming my walk, but within seconds, I heard them scrambling to their feet.

"Hey!" one of them barked, voice laced with fury.

I glanced back. They were running toward me.

Without hesitation, I ran.

"Stop that girl!" one of the officers shouted, his voice cutting through the bustling town.

I ran, weaving through the crowded streets, knocking things from people's hands as I moved. My system tracked every sound, every movement. The officers were still chasing me, their heavy boots pounding against the pavement.

Ahead, a car skidded to a stop, blocking my path. Without hesitation, I leaped onto the hood, my feet landing solidly before I pushed off, vaulting over it with ease. Gasps and shouts erupted from the bystanders, but I didn't slow down.

The officers scrambled to go around the car. I took the opportunity to dart left, cutting sharply into an alleyway. A tall chain-link fence loomed ahead, but it wasn't an obstacle—it was just another calculation. I sprinted toward it, planted my foot against the metal, and propelled myself over, flipping in midair before landing lightly on the other side.

I heard the officers skid to a stop behind me, cursing as they realized they couldn't follow. But they weren't giving up. My system detected their movement as they circled back, heading for an alternate route through a nearby building.

I kept moving. My processors ran through potential exits, and I spotted a door to my right. Without slowing, I shoved it open and slipped inside.

The sudden shift in atmosphere was jarring. Music pounded through the dimly lit room. The air was thick with cigarette smoke, the scent of alcohol cutting through it. Dancers moved on stage under low, golden lights. A bar stretched along the back wall, lined with customers nursing drinks.

I didn't stop to process it. Instead, I moved quickly, vaulting over the bar counter and crouching behind it.

The bartender—a middle-aged man with dark hair and sharp eyes—looked down at me, startled. But before he could say anything, the doors swung open behind me.

The officers had entered.

My system registered the weight of their footsteps, the slight shift in their breathing as they scanned the room. I stayed still, my head ducked low behind the counter.

"Have you seen a young girl run in here?" one of them asked.

The bartender barely hesitated. "No children allowed in here," he said, casually wiping down a large glass. His voice was smooth, uninterested. Believable.

The officers exchanged glances. "Maybe she ran next door," one suggested.

The other sighed. "Alright. Have a good evening, officers."

I remained still, my sensors tracking their movements until I was sure they were gone. Only then did I look up.

The bartender glanced down at me and gave a slight nod. "You can get up now, kid."

I rose to my feet, my eyes scanning the bar to confirm their absence. They were gone.

"You okay?" the bartender asked, watching me curiously.

I studied his name tag. Peter.

"Yes," I replied. "Thank you, Peter."

He shrugged. "No problem. Look, if you're trying to get out of here unnoticed, use the back door. They won't see you leave that way."

I nodded in understanding. "Acknowledged."

Peter raised an eyebrow at my choice of words but didn't question it. Instead, he stepped aside, letting me move toward the rear exit.

I pushed open the door, stepping into the cool evening air. The music from the bar faded behind me. My system scanned the area—no officers, no threats. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the empty alley.

I took a breath and started walking.

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Looks like Y/N just lived her own Run Boy Run moment—just like Five.
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WORDS WRITTEN:
2094
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