(Episode XIII) (Act 2)

Tabby should’ve been prepared for the rushing of frenzied people, purely on the instinct to survive by any means necessary. People flooding the stairs with some semblance of precious possession in their hands, pushing against each other in a rabid desperation. Screeches and shouting over each other as speech devolved further, their primal roars echoing against the cage they’re currently trapped in.

It was so upsetting. Seeing people break down like this. Turning into…

The girl sighed to herself.

She turned behind her, and headed towards the wall, and started to feel around on it.

She reached the center, and it fell away to reveal an exit.

Looking back, biting her lip, hoping that someone would see this. Anything to avoid the possible crowd crush by alerting everyone—but to avoid the sickening feeling of being more of a privileged asshole damning people to die.

No one. Not one person noticed her.

But the lost masses continued to panic, with every man for themselves and what they cared about.

People—her neighbors that she always wanted to know better but still “know”, and likewise with each other… Turning into the other word that started with M, but just as vicious, just as violent… And just as cornered.

Tabby left the entrance open, stepping into the folds of the building. She was fastened into a pod, a really really really really really scary thing in of itself, but it was facing something scarier and her wasting time.

But she stood still, let the innerworkings of the buildings take hold—intricate and hardline machination that comes together to create something that has to be flexible and mutable to function as a service. The pod Tabby existed in slithered her downwards, burrowing like a worm but not too much of a zigzag motion to keep things stable.

By the time she popped out of the pod, she stumbled, she felt sick still due to the principal of being forced into some cocoon and spat out by a building.

She inhaled and began broadcasting anyways.

“If you guys are willing and able, use the Shiftication technology to your advantage,” she instructed. “It’s uncomfortable, it’s uneasy—but it’s the safest option at this point. I know your trust is a lot to ask of, but please, we can only get through this with trust. One of the few things we have over this thing…”

It was that voice that always lurked underneath her skin, a voice that couldn’t be silenced even with years of accepting and enjoying becoming everyone’s pillar and beacon. She told her that she was lying, being completely untruthful because even she doesn’t put her full trust in Extant and just ranted about them. Influencing people to basically die.

Tabby focused onto three thoughts.

She focused her lens, scanning the street area she’s stepped onto the scene of.

Somehow just as frantic and inhuman.

She looked behind her, at the other end of the street. Blue strips put up along the crosswalks—usually activated in the event to safeguard pedestrians from out of control cars as a last resort, now used as their second function—lock down the streets.

Extant Grunts in full suit, barking orders at the crowds to get off the streets and out of their tents; to get into organized crowds by sections—as Extant Pavers activate and roll down moving sheets of living metal from the buildings, shielding the sectioned crowds as the sheets turn pale white locking into the street. The Extant Researchers, pacing down the dwindling streets, trying to gauge the amount of possible damage on principal of the developing matter—much less what to do to stop it from happening. Aliens in white, boarding up rabid people into breathing cages.

But Tabby always had a talent. Always had a talent in recognizing and reaching out to the human element at play.

As she walked the middle of the vacant street, she glanced over to just a man locked in armor, standing in alone trying to call his family, but only got the dial tone. She kept moving and looked to the right, one researcher trying to coach the trembling aid in trying to recite the number of “forgone casualties”—in a bout of mortality of them possibly being those numbers. And then she looked forward, getting closer to the “end” of this road—a squad of Extant Enforcers with cadets. Sentinels, often called “Dead men with nothing left to lose…”

And Tabby could see one of them pace back and forth, shouting:

“Oh fuck, oh man, oh fuck, oh shit, oh fuck, oh god, oh fuck—"

Tabby couldn’t help but chuckle—finally a place where she can properly breathe and let go of her own chest tightening from within.

Until she heard a new droning noise, this time good.

She saw the buildings sink into the ground, no matter how different, all had cyan lights that blinked slowly as the action happened, taking the pods as well as their captives underground. These tall buildings became just their tips before stopping with a loud, shuddering thud. Then, the braces of each building formed forward, acting as reinforcement for the stubs that still remained. Acting as a beacon… and a shelter for those who didn’t make it…

“Remember!” a voice rushed up to Tabby, causing her to not only turn but clutch at her chest out of instinct. It was an Enforcer, much jovial in body language. “These shelters are still designed hardier from the top as well as the bottom! Please, do not hesitate to find an available one with an Extant Enforcer, you will be still safe! We promise and we will always promise!”

She untensed herself as chuckles released from her lips, as well as these words, “W-well, you certainly beaten me to the punch to what I was gonna say—”

“And it is the few times I’ve been bitter about my commitment to my job!” the jovial Enforcer replied in an instant. “Do believe that I possess manners, but it is truly an order to meet you right now, m’am.”

Tabby blinked.

“He’s like,” the pacing Enforcer stopped, walking up to them. “A massive super fan of you.”

“Really?” Tabby looked back at the Enforcer standing proud… And is probably more truer to the term—

“It is indeed a shame that this thing is happening. I was much looking forward to your news round up in the morning!”

Tabby practically felt her face flush, mouth moving on it’s own, no more words good, “W-well, yeah, that is a shame—y-y’know, this whole thing is a shame in general—w-withou comparing—sorry withOUT—comparing tragedies, also not saying that my show not airing is one as well.”

She allowed herself to breathe again.

“Thank you. It’s people like you that make me great—not the other way around.”

Tabby could hear the jovial Enforcer’s dazed chuckling from under the helmet, and the pacing Enforcer got next to her.

“S-so-so-so what?” he asked. “Protection? Escort? What do you need, princess?”

“Well one, I’m just the peasant girl that pulls a cool cart around and the rest of the villagers wave,” Tabby tried to lighten the mood. After the painful pause, she actually answered the question like she should have. “I’m an informant, so I need to get to the meeting that already started this time yesterday…”

“Understood, great, something I can do, got it,” the pacing Enforcer walked forward.

“He’s always the nervous one…” jovial Enforcer piped up. “While he adapted to it, I don’t think he has the life of a solider in ‘im…”

“Man…” Tabby could only respond. She looked down at the street, before turning towards the jovial Enforcer and points at him.

“I better see you post up a storm in the logs,” Tabby mock-warned. She watched the tin man raise his hands. “In perfect health, ready to make all sorts of comments about me—got it big guy?”

“Yes m’am!” he responded in zeal.

She gave a thumbs up, before seeing a gesture from the corner of her eye. She turned her head and saw one of the Enforcers giving her the go head in using the PATH-OS within their Carrier. Tabby raced towards the huge vehicle, stepping on not without some wobbling, and boarded. Walking across the many people working as date, findings, calls, reports, intel whizzed about her about as she walks towards the PATH-OS station aligned against the walls, yet again pods within a structure.

“Sorry guys, teleporting, have to unplug—Hopefully I won’t get Stark Trek’d, worked out so far—” And she turned off her ORACLE, stepping into the chamber, letting the pad under her feet whirl her front, and stood completely erect. The doors closed, and the rings descended and scanned her over and over, before being blasted with white.

And after stumbling, literally and figuratively, Tabby found herself into the nerve center of the battle for normalcy.