october_2086

 Horizon stretches beyond the reach of my puny eyes. The sunlight, bearer of hope and life, is nowhere to be seen, for far above the clouds it depletes its energy to someone worthy. Dunes of black gunpowder cover the entire landscape.

Dressed in a white tunic and without shoes, in my hands resides a torch. With no near destination, wandering is my only card in the deck.

…

…

…

How much time has it been? Only my feet are a testament of time passing by, as callous ingrained with blackened pieces of gunpowder keep me awake. Howling wind disperse the dunes, thus spores in the air attack my body, degrading it by each second. Bruised and bleeding, some of the spores search for these wounds to attend them, converting themselves into a protective layer for my damaged skin.

In my endless wandering, a shining light on top of the highest mountain, which is at arm’s length from the clouds, absorbs my focus. Instinctively, the essence of adventure and curiosity takes hold of me and draws me closer and closer to a hope-filled journey.

Who knows how much time has passed, as day and night don’t exist anymore; only clouds on top of clouds reign the skies impeding the sunshine to touch my skin.

Many times my hands grew tired of this torch of mine, many times I also tried to put it out with my hands, only to burn myself since the fire is eternal. Dropping it to the ground is suicide and using the wind to exterminate it has not worked.

Now, being at the top of the mountain, a crown with jewels floats above the pinnacle. Without notice, the crown drops into the endless amounts of gunpowder on the ground. My only way to get to it is… letting go of the torch. Burn everything to the ground for my desire, once again.

Should I? Is there really no other way?

My mind fibbles and almost succumbs to igniting the world for the crown, my eyes picture another scenario. In a blink, the never ending dunes of gunpowder disappear to show cyan walls surrounding me.

With a sudden jump from out of the bed, my rest comes to an end for confusion to take the spotlight.

The bed that I was in only recently is akin to one of an old hospital, with a steel frame made out of tubes. The blankets and pillows are completely white. What really unsettles me is the fact that the form of my body is embedded in the mattress.

What the… how long have I been asleep?

Diverting my attention to the door, I decide to try and open it. Unfortunately, my attempts are in vain, as it won’t budge even a centimetre. Prying through the keyhole, more confusion arises. Few times I have been in a place like this, but the distinct architecture catches my eyes.

Proto-Japan, home to reclusion in the past recent years, preserved its cultural nuances and resuscitated their ways of living despite the current trend of hyper modernization and standardisation of every empire, city-state or even kingdoms.

Oak wooden floors, pictures hanging on the walls of folklorian dragons and creatures fill the portion of the corridor that these eyes of mine can see. These pictures, now that I realice, are in fact moving. The dragon’s breath is dynamic, as it changes directions from time to time. Even the bodies of the beings depicted are moving to a certain extent. 

 A pair of mannequins with samurai armour and katanas on their sides stand in a menacing pose. Although it respects the traditional equipment, technology makes its way through and enhances them. The katanas look akin to Lorentz in some ways, with the main edge of the blade having a bright orange neon light resembling the sunrise.

The mask depicting a dragon’s mouth covers the marble white mannequin's body. Their attire is extremely close to the ones used hundreds of years ago. What is unsettling though is their eyes, which follow the same colours of the katana’s in their waist: devoid of any emotions pupils resembling an eclipse, and their irises with a melancholic peach tint highlighted with an intense glowing effect.

Taken aback, sitting on my bed is the only thing that I can do. After breathing deeply, embers of what happened in New Athena flashes in my mind. Blood sprouting out of some of the limpless innocent corpses haunt my mind. White floors tainted red. Vomit almost escaping my mouth. Shouts of desperation from my partners. It all just feels identical to the worst nightmare that I could have.

I am a monster.

How many families without a father did I leave behind? How many mothers? Children, even. Just thinking about it makes my stomach hurt as if I swallowed piles of food. Pure unfiltered violence, possible only because weakness gained control over me. Sickness to my heart and soul for not addressing my issues.

An outburst of emotion. Explosion of madness and delusion. How sickening and repulsive. A pinch of disgust to myself from the public is acceptable. Hell, even I despise myself for my actions.

As my eyes start to tear up from my hatred towards me, the concept of all these thoughts being recorded by the CEC for God knows how long is just… paranoia inducing. My privacy, and intimacy, all exposed for them to see. Only a rat lab, for them to experiment upon. Value for my humanity is non-existent. I even gave them more reasons to do so, as a mass murderer is probably the best description for who I am. Adds more value to this Unconscious Translator being implanted in my brain.

Fuck… Is it even my unconscious what is being recorded?

That is something which doesn't make enough sense. The unconscious; if it knows it is being translated and its thought processes dissected for later studies, how is it that I can’t access it? Hypotheses come and go until my mind comes with an explanation.

*Sigh*... I don’t know anymore.

Using this thought experiment, the stoppage of a dam of tears breaking out is successful. Did you hear that, CEC? Pieces of shit. I’m not going to budge again. I will take care of it in my own way. Being aware of the existence that records my train of thoughts makes an eerie shiver down my spine.

Innsperta, I have to look into them.

Don’t worry, you are closer than you think.

Hearing voices outside of the room that currently keeps me locked cuts my rage against the voices inside my head. Trying to cover myself again in the sheets as if I am still sleeping, the opening of the door makes me stop immediately.

“Let me see him, please Sister!” A squealing voice, presumably from a young child, is talking to someone else. A minimum of two people, and one is a child. Situation looks good, I can take him hostage. I truly am a monster, being that my first thoughts were that.

“Stop it, Hikaru! I told you that you can’t get in here, it is dangerous!” A female voice that can captivate the ears of any man resonates through me.

Their footsteps make it clear: both entered the room. Following a slight “Ouch! You are such a meanie, Sister…”, the door closes.

Brother and sister, this makes it even better.

Holy shit, I am a piece of shit.

“Just shut up and stand behind me, okay? I don’t want you to be hurt.” With my eyes closed, this information is vital.

“Is he really the Kinglayer? He doesn't seem like the last one.” Hmm? The Kingslayer? Who is that?

After a sigh, she continued with a correction “Kingslayer, Hikaru. I told you to study more.” She sounds more like a mother now. I can only say this because in some instances I saw Juliette’s mother say stuff like this. I wonder where she is now.

“Look, keep an eye on him as I use the stethoscope. See if he has any reactions.”

“Okaaay.”

This might be my chance.

Feeling a metallic circle in my chest, my body prepares to leap on the kid to take him as a hostage. Opening my eyes, the girl notices this in a millisecond. What? She really is that fast? My only option being to pretend that my slumber has just ended, apparenting confusion is key.

“Who… are you? Where am I?” Asking her these questions, an opening to analyse her is now unfolded.

Wow. She is gorgeous. Dumbstruck by her appearance, a slight blush on my face might make her slap me in the face, so I try my hardest not to show it. 

 A feminine aura, with a messy jet black hair that almost touches her shoulders, accompanied by her white formal shirt and black tie just creates a sight to behold. Just looking at her face can make any male hold their breaths. Not for it resembling porcelaine, but the scars that she has just make her more appealing. Shit, I should stop looking at her as an operation’s asset.

She might be a spy, judging by her looks alone. Women in my field of work usually end up in espionage, akin to Juliette, if they are as beautiful as she is. It is a shame though, as they are used for arousing perverts to get intel. With the technology that we have now, physical limitations are not an excuse.

“Yep, the cameras were right! You are finally awake!” Her excitement radiates through her slight fist bump to the air and her cute squeals.

“You can stop pretending, though. I know you were just faking.” An arrow pierces my heart as I have no explanation for that. Her face is frowning at my attempt to fake that my wake just happened.

“It’s okay, I understand why you would do it.” Sitting in the bed, she then talks to the kid in japanese. Soon after, although the child pouted for a bit, he then proceeded to leave the room.

“Uhmm, where am I?” She doesn't seem to have bloodlust. Maybe just being sincere is alright here.

Pondering for a moment, looking to the roof with her index finger on her lips, she answers “We are in Neo-Tokyo. Especifically, in a subsidiary of the Innsperta Association.”

“Huh!?” By only hearing that name, blood starts to rapidly circulate through my body, followed by standing up from the bed.

“No, no, calm down! It’s okay, I know you are confused. The directors talked with you through the chip, yes. I didn’t really like their decision. But it wasn't with malicious intent!”

Her words come out of her mouth quickly to alleviate the tension. Alas, this whole situation is just disorienting. I really don’t have anything to lose now, so I better follow along momentarily. Recomposing myself, tranquillity is filling my mind. In the end, there is no other course of action to take. Getting data is all I can do right now.

“Okay… What do you want from me?”

“It might sound ridiculous but… we need your help. Please don’t be mad!” Getting her hands together, as if in a prayer, she asks for comprehension. What in the world is going on.

This association introduced a software in my chip, like a trojan horse, to communicate with me? How deranged are they for not asking like a normal person?

“I mean, a face to face conversation would have been nice, not introducing voices in my fucking brain!” It just put more stress on me -hell, even now it does- and essentially made me explode in the parthenon. Ughh, just remembering that makes my heart want to escape through my throat.

“I know, and I ask for your forgiveness! I don’t know much about it, I’m just… a pawn right now…” That enthusiasm from earlier transformed into her eyes averting from me. Her last words had pauses between them, which makes me think that in reality desolation is behind that facade of happiness from before. I should tread carefully.

 Crossing my arms, I reluctantly accept as there is no other way out of here. My equipment is nowhere to be seen, time has passed for who knows how long and the operation might just be cancelled by now, which in turn means that I have been left behind. There is nothing wrong with it, though. It is what it is.

“Fine. But first, I’d like to know a few things… Starting with, how much time have I been asleep?”

“Four months, more or less. The New Athena Massacre was from july, we are in october so… yeah. Four months.”

That’s incredibly worrying. Who knows what happened with the Imperator in the meantime, or with Murph and Jules. According to the contract that the DAI made me sign, if a mission goes sideways, a new team will be deployed to correct the mistake. Regarding the first sent agents, they are considered exiled until they either join the newer team to repent for their malpractice or fix their situation at hand by themselves.

Considering this, if the mission has not yet been completed, that would mean that a lot of other agents are in here. Since I’m not dead nor imprisoned, Britannia is operating normally and the CEC haven’t sent hitmans for my head; this last option being plausible as my recklessness in the parthenon is not something that they would let slide.

Where could they possibly be? Four months is a long time. They might have already left the empire and sent onto other matters or still be in here mending my childish mistake. Hmm… Actually, what happened for me to fade out? It was so strong in fact that I was in a coma for four months.

“Could you stop walking around the room!? It is annoying.” Her eyes could set the world on fire. I am doing that… I didn’t notice.

“Oh please give me a break! I’m trying to piece things together.”

“If you are wondering about what happened four months ago, you were shot tranquiliser darts from some of the drones. Many darts, in fact. And your partners are still out there. One in fact betrayed you, it seems like.” Handing me my sunglasses, by putting them on a shared file from someone named ‘Hayami’ is on full display. Opening it, an image from a news outlet details the new private military member of the Imperator, agent White. Or as I know her, Juliette. Nice, she made it. I hope that she still is working for the CEC. Her moral compass is one of the strongest that I know of, so a treason is improbable.

“What the…!? How could she?” Faking a reaction, my actoral skills need polishing or she is extremely biassed against me, as she immediately sees through my lies.

“You seriously need to stop lying to me. We know more than you think of, Kingslayer.” A braggadocious answer tries to put me in line with her squinting eyes. Surprised by it, my mouth opened a little bit. I am untamable, but for now, I must give in.

For a moment, her eyes glitter with the same orange hue from the samurais’ eyes, covering her grey iris completely.

“We need to get going. The directors want to see you. I’ll explain everything on the way.”

Now in front of the door, she signals me to look at her. With no time to respond, her palm hit my cheek, turning my head 90° degrees. Ouch. Staying in that position by disbelief, she then says “That is for wanting to take my little brother hostage.” What? Does she know? All of my thoughts are directed towards the Translator inside my head. Yeah, it makes sense.

With a smile on her face, she steps out and prompts me to go with her. What a ride awaits me from now on.