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No. 367, affectionately dubbed "Nana" by her younger companion, firmly grasped the fraying rope of one of the many traps her new "master" had set up.
Holding it in her hands, sent her spiralling back to the days of being experimented on. Tied down as they pushed her body to its limits and then some.
The others went through the same, so why was she doing this.

She of course, knew the answer. While she was only a few months older than 549 (Primea) physically, her mind had been put to rest first out of all of them, and she had enough maturity to "cope" with the consequences of coming out here. Her other companion, Nessiah, referred to as both "Mister Nessiah" and "Master Nessiah" interchangeably by Primea, had no wings. And thus the task fell to her.

Resetting the trap was easy enough. She was taught basic survival skills by Nessiah, and she used them well as her reformed body required both food and water constantly.
She thought about teaching Primea to hunt but decided against it as "a child deserves better than to have to catch her own food" (Nessiah had once said, not realizing the irony of what he was saying as he sent 367 out to locate that night's meal.)
None of them were picky eaters. Primea's sense of taste had been dulled to the point of where she'd most likely eat rocks if her teeth were capable of crushing them, and Nessiah hardly complained about such trivial things. 367 hated the textures of meat but hated the feeling of going hungry much more. Sometimes she shoved berries into her mouth, not caring if she died from any poison they might carry.


One day, a woman showed up at their small "house" (a building mostly crumbled, but miraculously held up by plants and makeshift repairs done by 367 in her free time.) with a bowl of vegetables in her hands. They were bitter, but 367 preferred them to the food she had caught herself, and Nessiah simply shoved his portion towards Primea, who devoured it happily.
The woman said she'd return, but never did. Primea never asked and both 367 and Nessiah assumed she had died.

On cold nights, the wind cut through the crumbling walls, and Primea would sleep a bit closer to Nessiah and 367, the latter of which would remove her cloak and drape it over the smaller angel. She was used to the cold.
In the morning, she would leave briefly before the others woke up, if only to avoid them calling attention to her little act of kindness. Which Nessiah would call a weakness and Primea would question why "Nana" would do such a thing.
She didn't need to know that 367 was once a lot more sensitive to the world around her- and that she wanted to at least spare Primea from a little bit of the pain she went through- though Hector's presence in all three of their lives made that more or less an impossibility.

On days when her memories became unbearable, she'd locate the tallest tree she could without straying too far from her "home" and lie in its branches until the painful feeling in her chest overtook her and she crushed the branch with her bare hands, or she drifted off. Quickly beset by nightmares that caused her to wake up in a cold sweat.

She took solace in the fact that Primea did not seem to experience those.