Chapter Text
The lock clicked as she turned the key, deafening in the silence of the hallway. With her arm curled around the last box of her belongings, Aloy stepped through the threshold of her new home.
Well, it wasn't new, exactly. And wasn't totally hers. The place was a spacious one bedroom unit, pre-furnished and priced at a steep discount, one that she hadn't been able to resist in a city where she could just barely afford the average rent for a studio, and only with some serious sacrifices. The landlord had muttered something about needing to fill the unit and having already lost two months of rent before shoving the keys in her general direction.
Between that and the lack of a written contract, Aloy was perfectly aware that something about this arrangement wasn't entirely legal. It didn't bother her much, though; beyond the bottom dollar price point, keeping under the radar was something she preferred. This was just another temporary place to crash, one out of the many she had gone through in the last six of the twenty four years of her existence. When this lease expired, she'd move on without a second thought, just as she always had.
The important part was that it was a place to escape at the end of the day. A private bubble where she could be alone and away from the people who always seemed to need just a little more from her.
After a quick grope along both walls with her free hand, Aloy found what she was looking for. The light in the entryway flickered a couple of times before staying on.
It wasn't a particularly impressive apartment. Contractor white walls, beige berber carpets, and the cheapest fixtures available were there to greet Aloy after she flipped the rest of the lights on. The included furniture was decent, at least–there was a black leather sofa set, end tables, and a TV stand with an actual TV to sit on top, of higher quality make and larger size. Not that she was much of a TV watcher, but it was nice to have the option.
Inside the bedroom was a similar story. A newer looking mattress rested on a sturdy looking wooden bedframe, bookended by matching nightstands. The closet was big enough but lacked doors, something Aloy made a mental note to ask the landlord about. Not that he'd do anything about it, but she also knew how to be persistent.
With a soft exhale, she sat her box on the desk that had been brought in by movers earlier that day. Grabbing the box cutter she had left there, Aloy carefully cut through the tape before lifting the flaps.
There wasn't much beneath the layers of bubble wrap. Just a stand and two necklaces.
A smile played on Aloy's lips as she set up the stand and then hung the necklaces. First, one made of carved animal bone. Second, a miniature replica of the earth.
"There. All set up," she murmured, brushing her fingertips over each necklace in turn.
Drawing back, she stifled a yawn before tugging out her phone and blinking at the lock screen blearily. It was already late–far too late to get any work done or unpack any more than she already had. As much as her drive to be productive itched at her, the call of her new bed was far too tempting to resist. Rare for Aloy, but moving always had taken a lot out of her.
Tugging a sleep shirt out of her wardrobe, she changed before slipping between the freshly washed covers and sheets with a content sigh. The bed was cozy, the mattress supportive, and she was optimistic that she might have a chance to fall asleep within the hour, too tired and too comfortable to entertain the swirling mess of her thoughts tonight.
But as she went to grab for her phone charger, already plugged into an outlet behind one of the nightstands, something pricked at the edges of her subconscious. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. It was a terrifyingly familiar feeling, one she had felt only a few times in her life but had never ended well.
Aloy was being watched.
Her eyes shot to the closet in the back of the room, scanning the inset walls intently. It was coming from there, which was ridiculous, because it didn't even have doors. Only the clothes she had hung up earlier that day, casting long shadows which crept up the walls. She had to admit that it was a little creepy, but she had never scared easily and wasn't about to start.
There was no one there, of course, and Aloy's shoulders dropped in relief.
"I really do need to talk to the landlord about getting that fixed," she grumbled, before plugging in her phone, turning the lamp on the nightstand off, and snuggling into her nest of blankets and pillows.
As she drifted off, exhausted but thankful for a brain that was for once quiet, the smell of cloves inexplicably filled her nose. Aloy was too far gone to do anything but make a mental note to ask her neighbors to maybe not smoke inside, and soon she was slipping into the welcome distraction of a dreamless sleep.
–
Mondays were dreaded by most, and Aloy was no exception. Even though her responsibilities at the university she was doing her grad work at were light–no classes full of obnoxious, disinterested underclassmen to teach today–she had another obligation to attend to. One she wished she could walk away from.
Her internship at the city's big environmental advocacy group hadn't always been this much of a burden. There had been a time when she had almost started to look forward to showing up to the office, despite the many people she was expected to extend her meager patience and politeness to. It was the closest she had ever gotten to fitting in somewhere, and although it hadn't been perfect, it was more than she had ever experienced before. But that was before–
"Knock knock!"
A familiar but unwelcome intrusion tore her from her thoughts, reminding her exactly why she had begun to dread coming into work. Biting back a grimace, Aloy twisted around in her chair.
"Erend. What's up?"
He grinned at her, all teeth. Between that, his blue eyes which were brimming with the want to please, and his enormous size, he reminded her of an overgrown puppy, way too large and way too friendly.
Aloy had never liked puppies very much.
"I got those copies you wanted," he said, waving a bunch of papers in front of her face. "Here, lemmie just put them on your desk–oh, shit."
In his enthusiasm, Erend dropped the stack of papers down from too high a height. The instant they hit the desk, they exploded into a flurry of white. It took everything in Aloy to suppress the urge to scream, instead settling on a roll of the eyes before she dropped down on her knees to begin the tedious task of cleaning up. Erend went to drop down beside her, stumbling and cursing, but she held up a sharp hand.
"I've got it. Just go."
"Sorry, Aloy," he said, sheepish as he backed up. "Stupid, clumsy hands...I'll, uh, just do what you said and go. See you later, yeah?"
She didn't respond. There were a lot of things she could have said, but all of them would be something she'd either regret later or be reprimanded for, so Aloy elected to keep her hands busy instead. Less talking and more doing, and she'd be calm again in no time.
A few seconds passed, and she felt the presence of another person settling down beside her. When she glanced up, her stomach heaved and then dropped.
"Need some help?"
"Oh, Zo," she said, working faster to grab all of the papers. "No, you really don't need to! I've got it."
"Relax, Aloy," the older woman chuckled. "I'm pregnant, not useless."
Relaxation was the furthest thing from Aloy's mind, but she made room for Zo anyway. They worked for a couple more minutes, until the mess was less on the floor and more in her head. Mumbling a thank you as Zo handed her a final stack of papers, Aloy rose to her feet, unable to meet her coworker's gaze head on. But still, out of the corner of her eye, she could see the concern creasing Zo's kind face.
They had all been so kind, and that was the problem, wasn't it?
Her hands began to tighten into fists around the papers. Aloy forced herself to relax. Inhale, exhale. Breathe, and focus on nothing else but that.
The sound of shifting clothes caught her attention. With her enormous round belly getting in the way, Zo was struggling to stand. Enough guilt to drown her flooded Aloy, but just as she was about to offer her a hand, another coworker showed up to offer his.
She let her hand drop, simultaneously relieved and ashamed.
"Ah, Kotallo," Zo grinned. "Thank you."
As tall and imposing as he was kind and quiet, Kotallo muttered something Aloy wasn't able to hear. It was none of her business, anyway, so she spared the two a final look before turning back to her desk to staple the papers together–pamphlets for an upcoming community outreach event.
She could quit. She could leave today and never come back, yell a giant 'fuck you' to the world and find some place where she wouldn't have to deal with anyone ever again. There was enough in the nest egg left behind for her to do that.
But then–Elisabet, and Rost. Expectations, hopes, and dreams.
Aloy went back to stapling instead.
Despite the light workload of the day, she was more exhausted than usual when she dragged herself into her apartment that night. But there was work to be done, always more work, so she squared her shoulders and headed to the kitchen to start the coffee maker.
With a thermos full of coffee (and maybe a splash or five of Red Bull), Aloy headed to her room, sat at her desk, and pulled out her laptop. There to greet her was the biggest foe she had ever faced, a challenge unlike any other, the most likely thing in her life so far to end it.
Her doctoral dissertation.
Environmental engineering and robotics weren't the most common combination of disciplines, but it also wasn't unheard of. In Aloy's opinion, which was the correct one, it was where the future was headed in regards to resolving pollution and climate change. Her own contribution was poised to make up a decent part of the revolution she was envisioning, if she could just pull everything together perfectly. That wouldn't be a problem, because for Aloy, anything less than perfection was failure. And as many issues as she had with her faculty advisor, they were at least in agreement there.
The programming, the shop work, the practical trials and tests–all had been long completed. There was only the matter of pulling it all together into text, with tables and graphs to bolster her words.
Cracking her fingers, Aloy found where she had left off, dropped them to the keyboard, and began to type…
And then she felt it again.
That feeling. Like she was being watched.
It was more intense this time. Cold dread trickled from the nape of her neck and down her spine. The back of her scalp buzzed and tingled as ancient instinct begged her to turn around, to look. Predator, threat!
Aloy had never been one to ignore her instincts, as silly as this particular one might be. So, without a second thought, she turned around in her chair.
Her stomach plummeted to her feet at the same instant she jumped to them, a piercing yelp wrenching itself uncontrollably from her.
There was a man in her room, standing a few feet away and in front of her closet. In the exact spot where she had gotten the feeling of being watched from the night before.
Fear and shock faded quickly. In their place, anger bolstered by adrenaline roared through her.
"Who are you!? What are you doing in my room? Get the fuck out, or I'm going…to…"
Her words trailed off as her brain registered what she was actually seeing, and Aloy froze.
He was transparent.
There was color to him, muted as it was, but she could see straight through him and into the contents of her closet. He stood there without movement or sound, a black motorcycle helmet with the visor flipped up obscuring everything on his face except a pair of piercing pale eyes, a black leather jacket and moto pants covering the rest of his large form.
Aloy could do nothing more than gape, her mouth opening and closing several times as she tried to make sense of what was in front of her with her, as she scrambled to reconcile this impossibility with her logical brain.
The man blinked once. He tilted his head.
In a deep, rich voice muffled by his helmet, he said, "Who am I? Well, now. That's a good question. Who are you?"
The entire situation was ludicrous. It was crazy, bordering on insane.
Aloy found herself replying anyway.
"Why should I tell you?"
The man seemed to think for a moment. Then, his eyes creased with what looked to be a smile.
"You're a smart one, girl," he said. "Call me Nil."
He stared at her for a few seconds longer. It gave Aloy the impression that she was being pinned beneath a microscope for examination. But what he was searching for, she didn't know.
Then, without another word, he vanished. The smell of cloves saturated the air, this time with a hint of motor oil mixed in.
With a shaky gasp, Aloy collapsed in her chair and pressed a clammy palm to her forehead. Her gaze wandered over to her thermos.
"Maybe extreme sleep deprivation mixed with enough caffeine to give an elephant heart palpitations wasn't your best idea ever, Aloy," she muttered. "Because now I'm hallucinating strange men standing in my bedroom."
Turning back to her work, Aloy resolved to go to bed a little earlier that night. And she did, by an entire half hour. She was proud of herself, almost smug–Aloy Sobeck, making a lifestyle change to better take care of herself. That and removing the Red Bull from her nighttime caffeine concoction should have been enough to resolve any lingering side effects, right?
Except–
He was there the next day, too.
–
She only jumped a little this time when she walked into her room to find him perched on her desk, a wooden drafting table large enough to hold her laptop, reference books, and scores of notes.
Frustration building inside of her, Aloy threw the books she had checked out from the campus library down onto her bed. Wheeling on the–apparition? No, hallucination–she planted her hands on her hips and glowered at him.
"Oh, so this is a thing now? I guess I really am losing it."
The man–Nil, he had called himself–peered up at her through his helmet. A strange noise echoed out of it, and Aloy realized that he was laughing. Which only served to piss her off more.
"You're upset?" he said, incredulous. "I woke up in a place I don't recognize, not knowing who I am, and, ah, let's not forget the most important part, I'm apparently dead."
Pinching the bridge of her nose, Aloy squeezed her eyes shut and counted to three before speaking.
"Am I really about to start arguing with myself?"
"By all metrics, I appear to be something resembling a ghost, as opposed to an extension of you. Trust me, girl, I'm as confused as you are."
Aloy groaned. Okay, apparently she was going to be arguing with herself tonight. Right.
"I really don't think you're a ghost. Those don't exist."
"Stranger things have happened," Nil replied with a shrug. "What alternative explanation would you offer for our unique circumstances?"
Aloy crossed her arms over her chest. "That's easy. You're a figment of my imagination brought on by an overtired, overstressed brain, which is probably trying to tell me I need to attempt to socialize more."
"I'm awfully detailed for a figment of your imagination, don't you think?"
She ignored him to continue, "But right now, I have a lot of work to do, so if you'd kindly shut up for the next, oh, four hours–or forever, hopefully–I'd appreciate it."
Nil sighed, laying a hand on his chest. Which Aloy finally noticed was bare, because her brain had apparently decided to manifest her stress as a well-muscled man who was wearing a leather jacket with nothing on underneath, not to mention a pair of the tightest moto pants she had ever seen. If her gaze lingered a little on the thick crop of hair growing on his exposed skin–well, it was easy enough to write off as her puzzling over why anyone would wear a jacket without a shirt.
"You wound me, but I suppose for now, I can be quiet."
To her surprise, Nil honored his word, falling silent before striding over to her bookcase to examine what was on its shelves. Aloy eyed him for a moment longer before settling down in her chair and focusing as much of her attention as possible on her dissertation. At the very least, her brain had decided that work was more important than focusing on whatever this 'Nil' was supposed to be.
Still, Aloy felt knocked off center, her prized ability to concentrate regardless of what was happening in the space around her faltering for the first time in a long time. Every few minutes, she'd find her attention wandering over to the other side of her room. Nil was there every time she checked, still perusing her collection of mostly academic and nonfiction books.
(She hoped he hadn't noticed the small stash of well-worn guilty pleasures she had tucked away on the bottom shelf).
Aloy lasted about a half hour before, with a frustrated huff, she shoved her laptop back and swiveled around in her chair to face him. Nil slowly turned to face her as well, raising one black eyebrow.
"So if you're really a ghost, couldn't you go and disappear for awhile?"
"I could," he mused.
"But you won't."
Nil stood in thoughtful silence for a few moments before replying, "I don't remember much, but I have the distinct feeling that I've always enjoyed the company of others."
"Even someone who doesn't exactly want your company at the moment?"
For the second time, Aloy heard a muffled laugh spill from the visor of his helmet
"Yes, yes." He paused before speaking again, his next words slow and deliberate. "If I'm honest, I like you. Your presence…soothes me."
Aloy was beginning to hate being rendered speechless. At least Nil obviously didn't expect a response, with the way he turned back to the bookcase without another word. Slowly rotating herself back into place, Aloy scowled at her computer, but dutifully picked up where she left off. Soon, the tak tak of the keyboard was all that could be heard in the room, and she found herself slipping into the embrace of deep concentration without even realizing it.
Two hours crept by unnoticed. The only thing that alerted her to the passage of time was an accidental glance at the taskbar's clock, and it had her jerking her head up in surprise.
When she peeked over her shoulder, however, Nil was gone.
–
The next day, Aloy didn't even startle when she walked into the room to find Nil there again, this time lying splayed out on her bed and humming tunelessly. Her foul mood getting the better of her, she tossed her bag in the general direction of the bed. It passed right through Nil as he was in the process of sitting up, coming to rest halfway inside of his transparent thigh. He blinked up at her.
"That's my bed, you know," Aloy snapped.
"I'm aware."
"So get off."
"It's not inconveniencing you if I'm here, so I'd rather not." Nil studied her for a moment, then cocked his head. "You're upset today. What happened?"
"And why should I tell you?"
Nil shrugged. "You don't have to. But I'm here to listen if you need an ear."
Gritting her teeth, Aloy ignored him in favor of leaning over her bag to pull out her laptop. Her aim was a little off, however; instead of skirting him as she had intended, her hand passed right through Nil's leg, and she yanked it back immediately with a cry. It was as though she had dipped it into a pool of freezing cold water, the frigid sensation lingering as she clutched it to her chest and glared.
Nil leveled her with an unimpressed look at her silent accusation. "I'm a ghost. Remember?"
"Shut up and move over."
Politely, Nil shuffled off to the side. Aloy, after making sure he was well out of potential touching radius, yanked open her bag and tore out her laptop. Stalking over to her desk, she sat herself down, placed the laptop in front of her, opened the lid…and then proceeded to stare at the screen blankly for roughly five minutes before her goddamned curiosity and her need to get her mind off the events of the day kicked in.
"So. Nil."
"Yes?"
"Let's say that, hypothetically, you are actually a ghost. You really don't remember anything?"
She didn't turn, but she could feel Nil's eyes on her all the same.
He was quiet for so long that Aloy began to think that he had disappeared, but he was still there when she finally couldn't take it anymore and turned her head, staring down at the hands he had clasped in his lap.
"That's not entirely correct," he finally said. "I remember some things. Feelings, impressions. The shape of memories rather than their exact contents. For example, I believe I was a soldier at some point. I remember gunfire. Screaming. Explosions. Blood spray on fatigues. The grit of sand in my teeth. And within all of that violence, all of that noise…I am in my element. I relish every hit, every kill." He lifted his head, grey eyes full of what Aloy could only describe as nostalgia. Her stomach turned. "I find myself almost…fond of those particular memories. I don't think I was a very good man while I was alive. At least not then."
"Oh…kay." It did occur to Aloy that this was awfully detailed and visceral for a stress-based hallucination, but she pushed that thought away. "But you think you were a good person later?"
The look in his eye turned wistful. "I'm not sure, but there's a point where those memories stop, so…perhaps. Everything else beyond that is shrouded in darkness."
Surmising that she wasn't going to get much more out of Nil about that, Aloy gestured at him. "So, what's with the getup? The motorcycle helmet, the jacket? They look vintage. Eighties, maybe."
"Perhaps that's when I died, and these clothes are what I was wearing at the time," Nil mused. "I do remember that I owned a motorcycle and that riding and working on it were beloved hobbies of mine."
Aloy bit her lip as she looked him up and down. "Can you take the helmet off?"
"I haven't tried."
After a few seconds of pondering, Aloy said, "I wonder what triggered your appearance. You know, hypothetically. If you were a real ghost."
"Who knows. Maybe I've been here before and have forgotten, and something about you called to me. But enough about me." His focus narrowed down to her. "What about you?"
Aloy frowned. "Me?"
"Would you be so kind as to tell me about yourself? I admit, I'm curious. We are roommates now."
"No, we most definitely are not." Aloy huffed. "And I'm not really a small talk kind of person. Especially about myself."
Nil looked…put out, of all things, especially with the way he dropped his eyes and turned his head. It inspired an unwelcome sensation to well up in her, and it took Aloy far too long to realize that what she was feeling was guilt--not an emotion she was used to feeling when she wiggled out of a conversation. She tried to shove it away, but it refused to budge, wedged inside of her like a stubborn bit of food stuck between her teeth.
Aloy sighed.
"But I guess I can talk about my day. I talk to myself enough as it is, so why stop now?"
Nil brightened immediately. Another foreign feeling washed over her, but this time, it wasn't unpleasant.
"It sounded like you needed to vent."
With that, Aloy's sour mood returned a little, but the prospect of having someone listen to her complaints (especially someone who wasn't real) kept her talking. "It's nothing that bad. Just an issue with my doctoral dissertation."
Nil whistled, a strange and tinny sound through his helmet. "I wasn't wrong when I pegged you for a smart one."
Aloy ignored the way her cheeks flushed in response. "Yeah, I guess."
"So what's the issue?" Nil asked, settling back on his elbows.
"It's my advisor, Dr. Tilda Van Der Meer," she said, affecting a haughty tone on the woman's name. "It's complicated and a long story. The short version is that she knew my mother and expects me to be a carbon copy of her. When I fall short of that standard, she's not happy, and I get to hear all about it in the most passive aggressive way possible. Today was one of those days."
"You said she knew your mother." Nil's eyes narrowed. "As in, past tense."
Unsettled by his keen eye for detail, Aloy looked away. "Yeah. She's dead."
"My condolences. Perhaps it would be easier if it were her haunting you."
Aloy huffed. "That wasn't funny." Her shoulders dropped in the next instant. "But I wouldn't know, because I never got to meet her. She died in a car accident while she was pregnant with my twin sister and I. They managed to save us, although we were split up because there was no father on account of us being the product of artificial insemination. I went to an old family friend, and my sister Beta went to Tilda, actually. Like I said, it's complicated."
"You know," Nil said, his eyes kind. "I'm sure your mother would be proud of having such an intelligent and witty daughter."
Out of old habit, Aloy bristled at his words. But then there was the realization that his tone and phrasing had framed them as a simple observation, rather than being intended as an empty compliment, much the same way that he would comment on her duvet being blue.
(Unwelcome memories inundated her before she could stop them–
Oh look, here comes little orphan Annie.
Aloy, you're so great at algebra! How about sharing some of the answers to last night's homework?
God, she's such a know-it-all. I mean, I guess it's fine if you're paired with her for a group project, because she, like, does all of the work, but still–
It took several centering breaths to banish them and calm herself).
"Maybe, maybe not. I hear so much about her from everyone I run into, about how amazing she was, what a genius she was, and how I must be so proud to follow in the footsteps of the great Elisabet Sobeck. When in reality, I'm half convinced I'd be a disappointment to her, and I'm not sure I want to be exactly like her anyway." The words escaped her in a rush, as if compelled from her despite herself. Before Nil had a chance to respond, Aloy shook her head. "You know, my brain has done some strange things when under pressure, but creating an entire fake persona for the world's weirdest therapy session tops it."
Thankfully, Nil didn't press her about everything she had just spilled. "Or you could, oh, I don't know, just accept that I'm a separate entity from you."
Turning back to her laptop, Aloy snorted. "I don't think so. That would kind of conflict with everything I and modern science know."
Nil hummed, a quiet yet musical sound. "In that case, perhaps it would be good for you to realize that you–and modern science, for that matter–don't in fact know everything, and that's not a bad thing. Sometimes not knowing is for the best."
Something about his words–and maybe it was the way he said them or his word choice, she didn't know–struck a chord in Aloy and buried themselves deep into her heart before she had a chance to defend herself. A longing for simplicity, for a life she had once had but now sat far out of her reach.
(For a girl, alone and afraid but so determined to know everything, because if she was just a little smarter, just a little more resourceful, she could fix all of the problems in her life. Maybe she would finally even be wanted.)
Hurriedly, Aloy tucked that train of thought away. She had a dissertation to focus on, full of actual facts and mathematics and solid science, and couldn't be wasting her precious mental energy on silly things, especially not the so-called ghost behind her or the ones of her past.
Still, Aloy felt somehow lighter than she had in awhile. She snuck a glance behind herself, inexplicably finding relief in how Nil was still on his spot on the bed, this time with his arms pillowing his helmet and his eyes closed.
The rest of the evening passed in companionable silence, and when Nil vanished this time, it wasn't until bedtime and was accompanied by a soft, "Goodnight."
And Aloy was surprised to find that, for the first time since he had appeared in her life, she hadn't minded having him around at all.