Breachers – Path of Steel

18

I

Unraveling Truths

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Day 9

Marcus shifted his gaze downward, watching his feet get nudged into the red sneakers before his uncle finished up with the laces. “There, looking good,” uncle Laurens said as he stepped back, a grin spreading across his bearded face as he gave the sneakers an approving nod. “So, how do the hand-me-downs feel?”

“Strange, but I’ll manage,” Marcus said, his gaze lingering on the shoes for a moment longer. His uncle then helped position his feet on the footrest. It felt odd wearing them, as they were one of the few remaining reminders he had left of one of his friends. It had been literal years since he had last felt shoes, jeans, a t-shirt and a jacket on his body. ‘Shoes feel tighter then I remember,’ he thought as he wiggled his toes inside of them. Even now, three days later, he was still coping with the aftermath of regaining all his memories, both as a robot and of him trapped in his comatose body. A state where he had been painfully aware of each passing moment. “Are you sure? About taking me outside?” he asked, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement.

“Depends. Are you going to pass out on me like a wimp?” Laurens asked, a playful grin tugging on his features as he looked at his nephew, seeing him shrug his shoulders in response. “Cheeky little shit,” Laurens whispered before getting up and grabbing the push handles, wheeling his nephew out of the room. “Don’t worry. I’ve already talked to the doctor, and you’re a lot fitter than you were three days ago. And the drooling isn’t as severe as before. It’s bordering on being adorable now.” The man chuckled when he heard his nephew protest at the comment. “Besides, I told them that we were just going to grab something to eat in the cafeteria downstairs. They don’t know anything about our grand escape.”

As they left the hospital floor, Marcus felt excited as they made their way towards the elevator. He caught sight of the staircase on the right, recalling how he had used it a few times when he had been in his robotic frame. “So, what are we going to do today?” he asked curiously.

Laurens pushed the elevator door button and leaned against the wall, waiting for the doors to slide open. “Fresh air for a start. But do you think you are stable enough to hold an ice cream?”

Marcus stretched out his right hand while keeping it perfectly still. “Not even a twitch,” he said, forcing himself to keep his hand steady. He had made significant strides in his recovery over the past nine days, but each day was still a struggle. His speech had improved the most, though he still had trouble with complex words or when he was especially tired. The doctors couldn’t really explain it, beyond point at his nature as one of the Marked, or the experimental treatment he had been exposed to for years. Still, Marcus couldn’t shake the feeling that it went beyond that, as if his time within his robotic shell had also kept his mind healthy.

They went into the elevator when the door opened, and Laurens pressed a button to direct them to the ground floor. Marcus still felt a bit hazy because of the fact that his consciousness was still partially divided into two portions, but he was starting to get used to it. They waited in silence until the doors opened again, revealing the bustling hospital lobby with dozens of people coming and going. “Stay here for a minute,” his uncle said, parking the wheelchair near the entrance.

“Aren’t you worried someone might roll me away?” Marcus asked just as his uncle began to move away.

With a swift glance over his shoulder, Laurens grinned. “That mug of yours isn’t pretty enough to get abducted.” The man then started laughing before walking into a nearby shop.

Marcus watched his uncle move around inside the shop, his eyes tracking the momentary pause as his uncle debated between various brands and flavors of icecream. Marcus then shifted his focus back to his shoes as a soft smile formed. He wiggled his toes again before he lifted his legs, feeling the fabric of the sneakers. They were old and worn, but their worth to him went beyond description. His attention then was suddenly drawn to a ruckus near the hospital entrance, voices rose while footsteps echoed in the lobby as a robed figure walked in. The man’s head was shaved and was wearing a white robe with a blue circle on the chest and blue lines dripping downwards. ‘Some sort of preacher?’ Marcus thought as he watched the man spread his arms to the side before talking about holy lights, drawing the attention of most in the lobby. Some people looked intrigued, while most had an annoyed look.

Marcus watched the bald man for a while until hospital employees guided the man outside, with security arriving shortly after. An icy touch then suddenly grazed the nape of Marcus’s neck, making him jump in his seat as an involuntary gasp left him. His uncle then quickly handed his startled nephew a chocolate ice cream before the young man could voice his irritation. “Lightseekers,” his uncle explained, following Marcus’s gaze. “Just ignore them. They’re a bunch of nutjobs who believe the Orbs and Spheres have some special purpose. Something about bringing paradise to Earth. Those people are mostly harmless, but annoying when they show up in places like this, or protest in front of Guild buildings.” His uncle then took a bite of his own ice cream, blinking a few times to adjust to the cold.

“Lightseekers?”

With a nod, Laurens took another bite. “Yep. They’re going on about the blessed lights that now shine upon our world,” he paused to take another bite before he continued. “You know, the whole glowing Sphere thing.”

“You’re supposed to lick it, not bite into it,” Marcus commented while raising an eyebrow. “But what about the whole monster thing inside those Spheres?”

“Sod off, I'm fifty-six years old, and I'll eat ice cream how I damn well please. As for the monsters? Blessed guardians of the lights. Misunderstood by us mere mortals,” his uncle exclaimed, taking on a reverent tone at the end. He finished by shaking his head in disbelief. “It doesn’t happen as often now, but a few years back, you’d hear about groups of those idiots walking into Spheres to meet their guardians. The lucky ones would pass out near the entrance from the Mana drain. The unlucky ones... well, there is a reason why there is a lot more security arround Spheres now.” He merely shrugged his shoulders before taking another bite of his icecream, his chewing mimicking the fate of those that had been unlucky. “Are you ready to go?”

Marcus nodded in agreement, stealing one last glance at the bald man who had been escorted outside the hospital. ‘Monsters, Spheres, Mana... and now fanatics? What the hell happened to this world?’ he questioned silently, as his uncle wheeled him towards the parking garage.

- - -

A few minutes later, Marcus was sitting inside his uncle’s car while the old man furiously scrubbed at a bit of ice cream smeared on the car seat, muttering under his breath as he fought a losing battle against the sticky mess. “Not even a twitch, my ass. Do you know how hard it is to get chocolate out of fabric?” Laurens grumbled, sighing as he wiped his hands on a napkin and tossed it on the ground near the backseat, close to his nephew’s folded-up wheelchair. Marcus flashed a disarming smile, forcing his uncle to mutter something else before starting the car and slowly driving off.

Leaving the hospital behind, Marcus’s eyes widened with wonder as they drove into the heart of the city. The bustling streets brimmed with cars, people on bicycles and hundreds of pedestrians. Proud skyscrapers reached for the sky, their glass facades mirroring the lively cityscape, accompanied by the occasional passing flying vehicle powered by Mana-tech. ‘It looks different during the day... and when I am not rushing like my life depends on it,’ he thought as he recalled how he had made his way to the hospital in his robotic frame.

With a knowing glint in his eyes, his uncle enthusiastically pointed out various landmarks. “Check out that skyscraper over there. It belongs to a local Breacher guild, I think they put it up about three years ago,” he remarked, his tone tinged with uncertainty. “And that concrete structure beside it? That’s our city hall. Horrible looking thing.” As they drove further through the city, Marcus found himself captivated by the sights and sounds surrounding him. His uncle played the role of an enthusiastic tour guide, showing him the downtown area, local markets, shops, and the city’s public transportation system. With each passing moment, Marcus’s understanding of the world he had missed for thirteen years began to take shape. His uncle then pointed towards the bustling downtown streets, a mix of bars and shops lining the way. “Look over there, just around the corner. There’s this fantastic Thai restaurant over there,” he exclaimed, a wide grin brightening his features. “Their Pad Thai and fried rice are out of this world! Once you’re back on your feet, we’ll go there for a feast, alright?” Marcus nodded eagerly, his curiosity piqued by the prospect of exploring new culinary delights beyond hospital meals and whatever his family and Felix brought over. “The world has changed a lot since you had your nap,” his uncle continued as he rounded another corner. “New towns and cities have risen from the ashes, and we’ve managed to preserve the charm of the old ones, or at least the bits we could salvage.”

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Curiosity gnawed at Marcus, and he couldn’t help but ask, “How bad was it... really?” He caught a fleeting moment of tension in his uncle’s expression, quickly replaced by a mask of composure.

“Well, your brother and sister have already filled you in on most of it,” his uncle said, stopping the car near a stoplight. “It was devastation on a planetary scale. Our once stable infrastructure crumbled within minutes. The failure of working water barriers led to devastating floods. Hundreds of thousands tried to find refuge in neighboring countries, only to find our neighbors facing their own crisis and seeking shelter in our nation. It was absolute chaos.” His uncle gave a reassuring pat on his leg before continuing. “But we pulled through, just like you. And with your sister and other Breachers working tirelessly to stop the expansion of more Spheres, even taking them down one by one, we’re slowly reclaiming this country.” He gestured towards large buildings on the city’s outskirts, where massive warehouses stood. “We have even made an entire industry out of those Spheres. It’s a whole new world we’re living in.” As they drove toward the outskirts of town, passing through the industrial side, Marcus observed the activity outside. Large trucks entered and exited the area, transporting thick metal containers while escorted by security vehicles. Marcus learned that some of the trucks carried monster remains, while others contained strange ore or metal debris with peculiar growths. His uncle described how the Mana released from Orb gradually altered everything within their influence, withing the Spheres. The words he used were punctuated by the occasional technical jargon. “Plant life inside a Sphere twists and mutates over time, while rocks and metals transform into different and exotic elements. It’s proper weird if you ask me.” Marcus pestered his uncle with a few more questions, eager to understand more, but his uncle could only offer limited answers. “You know, it’s all because of the creepy things happening inside Spheres that people even bother listening to strange folks like Truthseekers,” his uncle explained.

“Why is that?” Marcus asked before his curiosity was piqued as three SUVs with strange logos sped past them.

”We don’t know why... or quite frankly how, but the spheres change things on the inside,” his uncle said as he stopped at another stoplight. “The weird part is that, despite the roaming monsters and mutated scenery, the inside of a Sphere is usually far cleaner. CO2 levels inside drop drastically, and there are fewer manmade pollutants in the water and ground. So, some folks call those meteors ‘god’s gift,’ thinking that once it covers the entire world it’ll turn Earth back into a paradise... an Eden. Except for all the dead humans of course,” Laurens muttered, adding the word ‘idiots’ under his breath. The sound of his uncle’s cellphone ringing disrupted the mood in the car. Laurens glanced at the dialer before his expression tensed up. “Well, that’s not good,” he muttered, then turned the screen towards his nephew when questioned about the caller. Marcus could see his sister’s name on the caller ID. “No doubt she found out I kidnapped you,” his uncle admitted, a hint of surprise in his voice. “She’s fast for not being a bloodhound.”

Marcus grinned as his uncle stepped on the gas, accelerating the car as they headed back towards the hospital. “Is she gonna be pissed?”

An incredulous look crossed Laurens’ face. “How on Earth could she? I’m her favorite uncle.”

"Just to clarify, her only uncle," Marcus corrected with a grin. "But, what did you mean about the bloodhound part?"

“Ah, you know. Her Breacher thingy... Stats, or whatever they call them,” Laurens explained as he took another turn before spotting the hospital in the distance. He then glanced at his nephew, who still seemed puzzled. “You had your measurement, right? Each Breacher has a different build, some are well rounded, others are more specialized in certain Stats, like heightened senses, or a sharper mind. Well, your sister doesn’t have that. She’s all about raw power and durability. Sorta like how you used to fight, except she can actually tear off car doors.”

“Who says I couldn’t do that before?” Marcus shot back with a grin that was a mere facade. He still remembered the sting he had felt when he had gotten his measurement of just one point. “Just how powerful is Joline compared to me?”

"Boy, I still remember your bench press record from thirteen years ago. And it's nothing compared to what your sister could do now as a warmup. They say the higher the Mana amount within a body, the greater the increase in physical power. So, what about you?" his uncle commented as they drove down into the hospital's parking garage.

“What’s my Stat thing?” Marcus asked, observing his uncle’s nod. “I have no idea.” He had been pondering it for a while now. A power rating of one was the lowest he could technically have and still be considered Marked. According to what he had been told, and read online, those with a Alpha rank rarely became Breachers. Most of them were too weak to fight, settling instead for support roles in logistics or other fields if they still wanted to be involved with Orbs and Spheres. “Perhaps I’ll figure it out when I’m able to walk and hold an ice cream properly?” he said as he turned inwards a bit.‘Still, I do have a Skill, possibly two,’ he thought, fully aware of how he had split his consciousness between his organic and steel bodies. He still didn’t know how he had altered the robot to be able to function without electricity or wires in the first place. ‘Either it was a Skill or just some weird effect of the Sphere.’ He still hadn’t told his family about any of it, or what had actually happened to him, knowing full well that it would open up an investigation and potentially cause more fallout and hardships for them all. From what he had figured out, his family had already done enough for him. ‘I can still vividly recall Joline’s expression shift when the investigator had mentioned the Monster-Glass.’ With that in mind, he shifted his attention to his uncle as the man came to a stop inside the hospital’s parking lot. “How much are Joline and Martin in debt?” he asked suddenly. When he noticed the man open his mouth with a reassuring expression, Marcus’s own hardened. “I want the truth.”

What followed was an uncomfortable silence, before his uncle finally spoke up. “Listen, kid.” Laurens took the car keys, his gaze fixed on the steering wheel, as if weighing his words on an invisible scale. He then shifted his attention back to Marcus. “We’ve all been through a lot—me, you, your brother, and sister. We each carry our scars and pains in different ways.” He offered a weak smile when he said the last part. “When your father passed away, it felt like half of me had died with him. The other half of me just continued to go through the motions it once knew. I’ve made plenty of mistakes since then. I’ve ruined several marriages and am currently still ruining my career as a police officer.” He tightened his grip on the car keys. “But I’m not going to fail as an uncle. Your brother and sister, they’ve endured their share of hell, and they even shared parts of it with me over time when they felt like they could. I’m not going to break that trust. If you want their side of the story, you’ll have to talk to them about it. Understood?”

Marcus could feel the resolve in his uncle’s stance, and he understood that persuading him was futile and a disrespect to the strength the man was showing at the moment. ‘He’s not budging. But the fact that he’s like this speaks volumes about the promise he made,’ Marcus thought, acknowledging the man’s determination. Giving a nod, Marcus agreed to drop the subject for now. As his uncle got out of the car, he grabbed the wheelchair and came around to help Marcus back into it with all the grace that he could muster. “So... out of curiosity... what's the count on the number of ex-wives?”

“A few. There's definitely a pattern forming, though too few to deter me from trying. Feel free to pass my number to any single nurses you run into.” His uncle then wheeled him to the elevator, pressing the button before resting a hand on Marcus’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re back, Marcus, truly,” Laurens said in a soft, almost fragile tone. The elevator door opened, and they entered with a gentle push. “Now, let's brace ourselves for your sister's wrath, shall we?” his uncle quipped, the elevator doors sealing their conversation.

- - -

A few hours passed, and Marcus sat perched on the edge of his hospital bed, his eyes locked on the clock, each tick amplifying his concentration. He tracked each passing second, all the while coaxing his mind to split once more. He willed the HUD display into existence, despite the fact that he wasn’t in his robotic frame. It was trickier like this, but practice had paid off these last three days. The HUD slowly appeared, showing a digital clock, gradually syncing with the real one in front of him. It still wasn’t flawless, but he—or rather, a part of his mind—was getting better at it. He turned his head to the side, and there it was, his robotic companion stationed near the door, a silent sentinel in the room. His mechanical version clutched a whiteboard, its surface adorned with the number seven in awkward strokes. “Nope, wrong guess. I was thinking about the number three this time,” Marcus corrected, witnessing the robot’s shrug and subsequent use of a grimy sleeve to wipe clean the board. ‘Guess the synchronization effect has its limits at that range.’

Through trial and error, he had discovered a few things about himself and the robot. The robot drained something from him constantly when in close proximity, which he assumed was his Mana. He knew that once activated, the robot held out for about two hours—more if it remained still. However, when the two of them were close to one another, the time stretched by a few minutes, as if the robot constantly fed on the bit of Mana that Marcus could regain during that time. Shifting a piece of his consciousness into the robot continued to feel weird, like pouring water into two cups and ending up with only half of what he was used to. It felt stranger than just splitting off a piece of his mind to maintain the HUD. At least with that, he could constantly sense its presence in his mind. He shifted his attention back to his other self as he watched himself write on the whiteboard, forming a question mark. “What’s next?” he voiced aloud, observing his steel counterpart’s nod.

“I think we need more information for now. We’ve established that we share, or can share, a mind, but how did we manage that feat? And how the hell did we even end up as that robot?” Marcus asked, feeling his tongue struggle with the words at the end due to how tired he was feeling. A lot of questions filled his mind, yet the most urgent concerned the ‘debt’ his siblings now had because of him. While no one had outright confirmed it, his uncle’s silence and the detective’s implied expenses behind his life-sustaining treatment was enough for Marcus to make up his mind. Beyond all the questions he was dealing with, he also struggled with the constant irritating feeling he had throughout the day—a persistent gnawing sensation inside him. It straddled the line between mental and physical, an internal pressure that was ready to burst, but couldn’t find a path. The feeling had plagued him since he had woken up in the hospital. At first, he attributed it to the aftermath of his fragmented consciousness or the draining of Mana. But now, days later, he realized it wasn’t either of those.

‘I’m missing something. Something important.’

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Copyright: OsiriumWrites