For several long minutes, Eden really tried her best at opening the puzzle. This was nothing she hadn't seen before. It looked like so many of the toys she had played with, back when she was still a little girl from the Core.
Eden only had very vague memories of it, but she knew her room and her life, even back then, weren't like others. She couldn't remember going to school with other children, or even living in those modern apartments. What she had preciously stored in some faraway memory was the smell of wood, the imperfect fabric of a handmade toy, the light of a candle, and the smell of fruit juice. Eden had spent hours trying to remember more. Sadly, everything, before she was thrown from the Core, was a blur. Her mother was the one she remembered the best, because she had been suc
