Chapter Text
“Aloy, please come back to me.” She heard her name and followed it through the gray haze, pain sinking familiar teeth into her as she stumbled forward. There was something she had to do, had to wake up for, she just didn’t know what.
Aloy surfaced into consciousness, her vision cleared and she blinked at the warm brown eyes watching her with relief. The hand on her cheek was gentle, but the white painted face was unfamiliar.
"It's all right, Aloy. You're safe."
"I'm sorry." Her throat was dry, the words rough. "Who are you? Where's Rost?"
The pain that flashed across his face was immediate and intense. It hurt to see even though Aloy had no reference for it, or for the confusion that ran through her fingers when she stopped herself from reaching for him. She pushed up to sitting, saw the room in full. She wasn’t in the cabin. Where was she? It looked as though they were in a ruin of the Old Ones, though how they came to be here was nothing but a blank void in her brain. The last thing she remembered was…
…walking to the gate of Mother’s Heart with Rost.
“Aloy, you should move carefully. You were injured.” The cautious voice belonged to a man who wasn’t Rost, wasn’t even Nora.
She ignored him, gritting her teeth as she got to her feet. “Where’s my Focus?” He held out the metal triangle between his thumb and forefinger. Aloy placed it on her temple and frowned, scanning the first few files quickly. They were unfamiliar, the dates wrong. “This isn’t mine.”
“It is,” he replied.
“It isn’t mine,” she repeated as she pulled it off. “Where am I? Who are you?”
“Aloy.” He took a step forward and she backed away, casting around for anything she could use as a weapon. She saw her spear on the desk behind him, calculated the distance needed to get to it and knew she’d never make it. He wasn’t a Brave, but he was a warrior, some part of her brain recognized that in the way he moved.
“How do you know my name?” She tried to keep her voice even, failed, and the man flinched. The door of the room slid open and a Nora Brave walked through, dressed in familiar leathers. “Varl, where is my Focus?” The words left her mouth without thought or reason and Aloy froze for a moment in confusion.
“She doesn’t know who I am,” the one-armed man murmured to his companion.
“GAIA said this might happen,” he murmured back.
“I don’t know who either of you are,” Aloy snapped. “What is going on?”
“You know me. You called me by name.” The Nora had a kind face and held out a hand in a peaceful gesture before touching it to his chest. “I’m Varl, Aloy. I’m Nora, like you.”
“I am not Nora. I am an outcast.” Would forever be an outcast, since it seemed she’d missed her chance at the Proving and ended up in this strange place instead. Something about her words hit Varl like a punch but she was too tangled in her own misery to explore it. Aloy fisted her hands, the edge of the Focus cutting into her palm. “Where am I? I was supposed to run the Proving. What happened ?”
A concerned look flashed across Varl’s face. He took a breath, nodded once. “You ran the Proving, Aloy. You won.”
His words made no sense. Then she saw the Focus on his temple and her panic crashed into confusion, nearly dragging her to the floor in the chaos. “You have a Focus? A Nora wearing a Focus ?”
“You gave it to me, Aloy, to us.” Varl gestured between them. She spotted the glint of metal on the other man’s temple as he turned slightly.
“I don’t have any to give.” Even as she said the words, the image of handing a Focus to Varl filled her head. “I need to go.”
The step forward makes both men stiffen, but it puts her closer to her weapon. “Aloy–”
“Am I a prisoner?” she asked.
“No.” Something flickered across Varl’s face and she huffed a laugh.
“You’re a terrible liar.”
The men shared a look. It’s not much as distractions go, but Aloy has worked with far less and can make do with what she has. She darted across the room for her spear, ignoring the searing pain that ran down her neck and through her left side. Her speed and the surprise was enough and she closed her hands around the shaft, whipping the weapon up. She stopped, the sharp edge of the blade just pressing against the larger man’s throat.
He held still, dark eyes on hers and they are filled with such devastating regret her heart broke without knowing the reason why.
“Aloy, please,” Varl whispered. “I promise we don’t mean you any harm. We’re friends.”
“I’m an outcast. We don’t have friends.”
“Kotallo, give us a moment.” Varl reached out and carefully eased her spear away, unconcerned that she might turn it on him. Kotallo took a step back, his eyes still on her and Aloy couldn’t decipher the emotions in them as he turned to leave. Varl waited until the door closed again and then smiled sadly. “Will you put your Focus on? I’d like to send you something.”
It wasn’t her Focus, but it was better than nothing. Aloy held the spear steady, pointed at Varl as she bent to retrieve the triangle off the floor with her free hand. Varl sent the file to her with an ease that spoke of practice and she frowned.
“How do you know how to use these?”
There’s pain on his face now as he looks at her. “It’s a long story, Aloy. It starts with what I just sent you.”
She played the video, watching in horror as a version of herself ran the Proving, won the Proving just as Varl said. She’s looking up at a Matriarch who’s calling her a Brave and then the playback stops abruptly.
That’s not me. I don’t remember it.
“Where is the rest of it?”
“I’d like you to come talk to someone first. Please?” Varl held his hand out. Aloy didn’t take it but gestured with her spear and he nodded, preceding her out the door. She followed him into a large round room filled with plants and couches and a long bar on the far side. Kotallo was leaning against it, his single hand pressed flat to the surface, his head bowed in obvious grief. A smaller woman with delicate white petals of paint scattered across her brown skin stood near him with a hand on his back. Aloy watched them curiously as she walked with Varl to the flight of stairs.
What was that about?
She followed him up into the domed room and then can do nothing but stare at the image of the woman hovering in the air. She was tall and beautiful, her dark skin tinged in gold, the lower half of her body little more than swirling light.
“Aloy, this is GAIA,” Varl said.
“Hello, Aloy,” the woman said with a kind smile. “We have a lot to talk about.”