Numb

Cody eyed Ariana briefly before looking back at his M.U.

Ariana cleared her throat. “Um, this is me trying to flirt… if you hadn’t guessed.”

“I figured as much. I just don’t care,” he replied, not even flinching when he felt a sharp object press against his throat. A trickle of blood flowed down his neck, but he only sighed.

“Please don’t kill me before the next battle,” he said, his voice flat. He didn’t blink during the two minutes of silence that followed.

Ariana closed his eyes manually, then kissed each closed eyelid. “You know retina damage can happen if you don’t blink. You have to remember to take care of your eyes. They’re the most important thing in this world. Your beautiful, cold eyes.”

Cody felt her lips against his neck as she sucked the blood before hugging him and nestling close.

The moment lasted for about half a minute before Ariana groaned and whined. “Well, if you ever wanna… swing by 1009. It’s the door with the feline skull taped to the handle,” she said before leaving him alone to stare at his M.U.

For hours, Cody stood there. He climbed aboard and switched on the A.R. in his helmet, reviewing every gear, button, and nozzle. Cody didn’t sleep. He barely ate. All he did was read manuals and memorize every function.

On the second night, the alarm sounded.

Already nestled in his pod, Cody felt the cool yellow liquid fill the chamber around him. He watched as the other pilots from his company trickled in.

One… five… eight… eleven…

His eyes focused, ready to deploy, but he knew he had to wait for the last member. Ninety-six.

It was never truly a hundred per group. Cody had been surprised when he read in a manual that, for superstitious reasons, certain numbers were never assigned. Four, six, thirteen, and sixty-six were omitted—each tied to death, demons, or bad luck in different cultures.

Voices occasionally came over the comms. Some pilots didn’t know how to switch to private channels, while others simply wanted to be heard. Conversations were often directed at Cody, though passive enough to deny if confronted. It reminded him of school, after he’d broken a kid’s arm while fighting half a dozen more who had dared to call him that word.

They had all talked about him that way ever since—unless they wanted to test their fighting skills against him. Grade school felt so far away now.

“Hey! Um… is this… um, Cody?” came an unfamiliar voice.

A face popped up on his screen—freckled cheeks, hair in a bun. She avoided eye contact when Cody turned to look directly at her.

“Oh… gosh… They said you were cold and distant these days… Um, I’m Jasmine. I replaced Heather.”

Forty-five… forty-six… fifty… fifty-one…

She was about to speak again when Cody interrupted. “Who replaced Tod?”

Tod’s voice suddenly came on the open channel, his tone cautious and nervous. “Hey, buddy. Still here. Just wanted to let you know, you’re pretty popular these days. I think people as far as other legions know about you. Heather switched to the 1600 Company. Her number’s 1656. Thought you’d wanna know… maybe not. I guess she settled for something that adds up to 666 since she couldn’t choose it, huh? She always loved battle a little too much.” Tod ended with a nervous laugh.

Cody began reciting. “1656 is the year of the Great Flood on Adam and Eve’s timeline. Maybe she’s the flood. Or maybe she meant Methuselah—the only one recorded to have died that same year in the bloodline timeline. The oldest man alive. Or maybe she’s the rainbow, the promise God made to man, saying he’d never send another deluge to end the world. Maybe she’s the sign of the next end.”

Ashley’s voice cut in, shouting, “Okay, Mr. Melancholy. All I’m interested in is your bunk. If you’re not going to use it, I’m turning it into my extra storage area.”

Sixty-five… seventy-two… seventy-three… seventy-five…

“Go ahead,” Cody replied flatly.

The comms went silent. His nihilistic tone left everyone uneasy.

Everyone except Jasmine, who added softly, “I’m glad to have met you, Mr. Cody. Hope we can make it back in one piece.”

Ninety-four… ninety-five… ninety-six.

When the final pilot arrived, Cody launched from his pod, using his boosters to climb high into the night sky. The full moon illuminated the thousands of M.U.s heading to their mission.

Other legions flew in different directions, each with its own objective.

As Cody’s group entered Canadian airspace, a warning flashed on his screen—a British flag—but it quickly disappeared.

Perhaps the higher-ups had reached some kind of agreement. Or maybe that was why only a single legion—roughly a thousand M.U.s—had been sent.

Cody once read in a manga, “War is old men talking, and young men dying.” He almost smiled, wondering which category he’d fall into after today.

Their target was Alaska—now Russian territory. It wasn’t heavily occupied by civilians, serving more as a refueling station for M.U.s.

As trees, snow, and mountains stretched endlessly below, the aurora borealis painted the sky. The stars seemed to whisper how insignificant they all were in the universe.

Cody eased back on his thrusters, holding position and waiting for the enemy to reveal itself in the midnight moonlight.

Switching to channel 1009, Cody found Ariana grinding her teeth, her furrowed brows scanning the horizon.

“How did you patch into all comms at the start of the previous battle?” he asked.