Jordan knew he was in trouble the moment he found himself floating within a blackened void. It wasn’t his first time wandering listlessly in this darkened abyss due to excessive blood loss, though he did try his best to keep from visiting more than was necessary. Unfortunately, he kept running into misguided fools that invariably brought him back to this bleak place.
However, this time was different. For some reason, Jordan didn’t feel the typical frustration that usually accompanied him on one of his brushes with death. Even the memory of being blown up after shoving Corporal Wolf and that strange woman through the portal failed to elicit a response.
Instead, he felt an all encompassing peace. Not the kind that philosophers or theologians droned on about in their sad discourses, but the peace that comes when one truly stops caring.
He had to admit, it was something odd to be worried about, but it was nonetheless concerning given that his typical state of mind after a near death experience could be categorized as intense. There was a reason his team had chosen Major as his call sign.
Jordan continued to drift, pondering his own mortality and if this time he might actually pass through to whatever lay beyond. He didn’t fear death. That particular dark specter had become more than a passing acquaintance over the years. Though, if he were being honest, a part of him longed for release from his mortal trails.
The last couple of months had been… hard. So hard in fact, that even the numbing peace that filled his mind wilted before the barest hint of those buried memories.
But even with the very real possibility of passing on, Jordan refused to release his grip on life. Not only had he made certain promises to very important people in his life, but he couldn’t give up now of all times. Not when his team of lovable misfits were facing something that was way over all their heads. They were the only family he had left.
With that thought firmly rooted in his mind, Jordan gathered his will and pushed, forcing the numbing peace away like he would a troublesome pest.
As if waiting for that exact moment, a ribbon of silvery light flashed into being, momentarily brightening the void of his dying mind.
Surprised, Jordan didn’t hesitate to do it again.
Another flash leapt into existence, closer than the first but gone just as quickly.
Now curious, Jordan once again gathered his will, but instead of pushing against the vast emptiness of the void, he focused his intent and drove it into the spot where the light had been like a spear.
The void around him strained under the pressure.
“Just a bit more,” he thought, bearing down with the weight of his mind.
A loud rip echoed within the confines of his mind as the oppressive darkness was torn away in an instant, revealing a vast realm of interwoven light, the likes of which he had never seen before.
“What is this place?” Jordan thought as he drifted on unseen currents, taking in the magnificent ocean of silver. He didn’t know how long he floated amongst the ever changing flow, but as he got used to the environment he began hearing voices echoing about.
“Subconscious of the subject is intact and separated from his physical form,” some unknown person stated in a bookish sort of voice. “Regeneration is proceeding as expected. Analysis of the Evolved Human race is underway. Per Primary’s directive, all elemental mana channels have been successfully integrated. Compatibility of dimensional mana has been confirmed and is within projected error margins. Will proceed to the final phase of subject's integration into dimension 008 once full analysis is complete.”
A distortion, like a warping shadow caught Jordan’s attention as he drifted through the vast space.
Curious, he willed himself closer, watching in fascination as the shadow summoned one of countless millions of the silvery threads to him. The entity then examined its prize with the indifference of one who had done so thousands of times before and would do so again. Then, it unceremoniously cast it aside before calling another.
“Acknowledged,” a refined feminine voice echoed in response. “But it is worth noting that analysis of the subject’s memories was never clarified as part of the original agreement.”
“Your objection is noted,” responded the first voice in an overly analytic tone. “Observation is critical to understanding the dimensional parameters of Evolved Humans and is within the intended scope of our agreement with designation Leonard, not Moron. Supplementary investigation is determined as a priority and is within the Primary’s authority.”
A gravelly voice that sounded like it had more in common with rending rocks than actual speech joined the conversation.
“Acumen, you push the boundaries of our established agreement too far without justification. What do you plan to gain from this egregious deviation?”
Ignoring the voices, Jordan willed one of the discarded ribbons of light to him, curious to see what the fuss was about. The group of disembodied voices hadn’t noticed him yet and he would prefer to keep it that way.
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The moment the ribbon touched his mind, the scenery around him changed. Instead of the vast room of moving light, Jordan found himself sitting in the lap of a beautiful woman, her arms wrapped tightly around him.
Children screamed excitedly in the background, playing on what looked like a playground. The sun was shining and the breeze carried with it the scents one would expect in a park. The trees, fresh mown grass, and a light perfume of lilacs mixed with freshly baked bread.
He knew that smell. More importantly, he knew this place. It was the playground he had grown up next to.
Confused, Jordan turned back to the woman who held him. She was beautiful, with auburn hair, a heart shaped face, and eyes the color of a summer storm. His eyes.
“Mom?” Jordan tried to breathe, but failed.
“Assessment and assimilation of the subjects memories are within the Primary’s authority. All collected information and analysis is made available to the other Fragments, and in turn the other Primaries,” the first voice replied in an exacting tone. “Be wary of overstepping into roles that are not yours, Credos.”
Jordan caught the last statement by who he assumed was Acumen as he stared in open wonder at his mother. She had passed away so long ago that he had forgotten what she looked like. But the image before him brought her perfect, loving smile into sharp focus.
Whoever was having the conversations around him had said these were memories. More specifically, they were his memories.
Reluctantly, Jordan let the vision of his mother fade back into the majestic waves around him. But before it had left his grasp, Jordan willed another ribbon to him.
“Fragments, while the least of the whole, remain subject to their Primary’s goals,” Credos growled. “Following your Primary’s will is still following your own. Interacting in such a way with an unknown race may have significant consequences. I repeat, what are your intentions?”
Ignoring the ongoing conversion, Jordan relived the moment he had scored the winning touchdown for his high school’s football team.
Excited, he went from light to light, reliving long forgotten moments in seconds.
The taste of his grandmother’s homemade brisket.
Rebuilding the engine block on his first truck.
The ceremony where he took the oath of a commissioned officer.
Flashes of light and the sound of gunfire erupting all around him.
Matted blond hair, stained red.
The flutter of black cloth…
Jordan recoiled like he’d just grabbed a live wire, flinging the unwanted memories as far from him as possible. He wasn’t ready to face them. Not now. Not ever.
“I say again Credos, this decision is not within your authority to challenge,” Acumen said.
Jordan’s subconscious snapped around, drawn to the cold tone coming from this Acumen. He didn’t know what was happening or how any of this was possible, but he recognized their actions for what they were. Intruders and thieves.
Anger like he had never felt before raged through him as the ribbons of silver light took on a red hue.
Jordan’s anger mounted as Acumen systematically drew from the vast well of his mind, watching dispassionately the scenes of his most private experiences.
Raids on terrorists and organized crime syndicates.
His first love.
His first kill.
Memory after memory passed by him as it was reviewed with the indifferent treatment of an uncaring bystander before being cast aside.
Another memory emerged from the sea of light, passing Jordan on its way toward Acumen’s outstretched hand. On its way, a joyful laugh as pure as the stars on a summer night rang out, piercing him to his very soul.
“No,” Jordan growled. “That one you cannot have.”
Acting on instinct, Jordan reached out like he had with the other memories, willing the ribbon of light to stop. He could have just as easily pulled the memory back to himself, but didn’t. Even in his anger Jordan knew he didn’t have the strength to face anything that reminded him of her.
“Designation Glade’s memories indicate…” Acumen began, but stopped the moment it realized the summoned memory had not come when called.
“Curious,” Acumen said in that infuriating monotone voice as it cocked what passed for a head to the side. “Designation Glade’s subconscious has reasserted itself. The subject has even broken through a Fragment level emotional block. Additional analysis required.”
“I said, NO,” Jordan shouted, bending his effort to keep the memory from moving any further. “YOU ARE NOT WELCOME HERE!”
“Acumen,” Credos’ voice echoed around them. “Designation Glade has made his desires known.”
“Must I remind you, you have no authority...” the pretentious voice began, straining to pull the memory closer.
An overwhelming feeling of power interrupted Acumen, like the universe itself had turned its eye on them.
“Depart,” the gravelly voice rumbled, projecting a wave of power that rolled over them like a thunderstorm.
There was a momentary pause before Acumen spoke, his shadowy gaze boring into Jordan with undisguised curiosity.
“Acknowledged,” Acumen said. “Designation Glade has achieved subconscious reintegration of his own volition. Preliminary jurisdictional integration complete. Pending designation Glade’s final consent of integrative measures. Emotional block has failed. Any residual safeguard will be removed. Subject will return to full consciousness in 8 seconds.”
The shadow holding onto the memory vanished the moment Acumen finished speaking, along with whatever strange power it had over the memory.
Gently, Jordan guided the precious memory to the ocean of silvery light where it faded from view. Then, with a sigh of relief, Jordan woke up.