Breachers – Path of Steel
19
I
Mentality
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Day 10
The next day, Marcus was holding on to a floatation device, his fingers digging into the foam while pain and exhaustion gnawed at him. “I need to rest,” he groaned, the ache reaching from his lower back all the way down to his toes. He tried to kick, but each movement seemed to sap more of his energy. His substitute physical trainer, Erwin, stood at the ready in the water, making sure Marcus was safe while keeping a close eye on his efforts. Walking beside Marcus in the waist deep water, Erwin wore a playful grin. ”You can rest at the edge, or drown at the bottom. What’s it going to be?” He asked, his hazel eyes briefly meeting Marcus’s. “Come on, you slept long enough. Time to paddle those feet.”
Irritation surged within Marcus, and he clenched his teeth in frustration as he was pushed well beyond his limits, a sensation he wasn’t unfamiliar with in the past. Erwin’s instructions tugged at him, reminding him of his father during training sessions. Marcus knew the reason behind Erwin’s words, yet that knowledge did little to quell his desire to wipe the smug grin off the man’s face with a solid punch.
Erwin was a physical therapist like Daan and the others that had been helping Marcus the last ten days, although Erwin typically worked in a different wing of the hospital. The man had stepped in when Daan had called in sick earlier that morning.
Straining, Marcus kicked his legs, channeling his frustration and anger into each movement, his limbs flapping as he clenched his teeth. Finally, after a minute, he reached the edge of the hospital pool. As Marcus clung to the ledge, Erwin flicked a switch, raising the pool’s floor to knee height. “You did well, mister Smit. Very well,” Erwin commended, helping him out of the water and onto the ledge. The man kept him steady until Marcus gave the signal that he was okay. In that brief moment, Marcus could again see the army tattoo on Erwin’s exposed shoulder, hinting at his past. “Let’s dry you off and get you back into your wheels, alright?”
Marcus nodded as he accepted the towel and dried himself off, if not a bit awkwardly. After a few clumsy moments of drying, changing, and getting dressed again, he settled back into his wheelchair. His eyes followed Erwin's movements as the man helped him slip into his red sneakers. “There, all done,” Erwin said, standing up and running his hand through his short brown hair. “Hope you had fun.”
“Fun?” Marcus asked, his tone a mixture of confusion and amusement. “It felt more like a constant struggle not to drown every second. You do know that my sister’s a Breacher, right? If she caught wind of this, you might find yourself in a world of hurt.”
“That sister of yours, is she the cute blonde who was in your room?” Erwin asked, noting Marcus’s uncomfortable and slightly disgusted nod a second later. “Nice. So, what’s her rank?”
“Three,”
Erwin gave a low whistle, clearly impressed. "A Beta+, huh? She could likely snap off one or two of my limbs without breaking a sweat," he remarked, a grin spreading across his face as he positioned himself behind the wheelchair, gripping the handles. "But honestly, I'm not too concerned about your sister finding out." With that, he began to push.
"And why's that?" One of Marcus's eyebrows lifted as he followed Erwin's actions—opening the door and switching off the pool lights.
“Because despite how difficult the training was today,” he explained while pushing Marcus’s wheelchair out of the room, “I treated you like how you used to be and not as patient. And from what I read in your file, I figured it might be a refreshing change you’d appreciate after all this time.”
- - -
When Marcus was rolled into his room he found his sister waiting there while staring at her phone, looking a bit annoyed. Her irritation vanished when she saw him being wheeled in. She quickly stored away the device and smiled at her brother. “So, how was your swim?” she asked cheerfully.
“Refreshing,” Marcus mumbled, brushing off Erwin’s chuckle as he settled back onto his bed.
He zoned in and out as Erwin talked about how the therapy had gone, the man’s assessment of his recovery thus far, and the news that Daan would probably return to work in a day or two. While his sister asked more follow-up questions, Marcus’s gaze rested on his HUD, spotting the digital clock at the edge of his vision. He compared it to the clock that was attached to the hospital wall, noticing a slight time difference of a few seconds. ‘The HUD is slightly more accurate than this morning,’ he thought before making the HUD disappear again.
“So, any questions on your end, Marcus?” Erwin inquired, finger dancing across his digital notepad. Marcus just shook his head. “Alright, then I will leave you in the capable hands of my colleagues. It was a pleasure meeting you both.” Erwin shook their hands before stepping out, leaving Marcus and his sister behind.
Marcus's sister scooted her chair closer to the bed, casually propping her feet onto it. "So, you didn’t drown. Thanks for that. Now I owe Uncle Laurens ten credits," she quipped.
"There's still time. You could always drag me to the sink over there and hold my face under water," Marcus responded, conjuring his HUD to check the time once more as he caught Joline shooting a quick glance at the sink with an amused expression.
"Where's the challenge in that?" his sister retorted. “But seriously, how’d it go?”
“Great,” Marcus replied before he felt his sister’s burning gaze on him. “Fine, it felt horrible. My muscles were burning non-stop, and I was about as sure-footed as a drunk toddler in the ocean. Happy?”
“Oh, I am,” Joline replied, a smirk playing on her lips. She picked up the TV remote and switched it on. She was well aware that some topics were usually off-limits when talking with her older brother. “You’re making progress. It’s only been ten days, and what you’ve accomplished already is pretty impressive, right?” Marcus simply exhaled through his nose in response, much to his sister’s amusement. “Come on, even you have to admit that your recovery is going well. Maybe your mark gave you some extra durability? That or you are just as stubborn as Dad.”
“Maybe,” Marcus mused as they both lapsed into silence, eyes fixed on the television. He tried to lose himself in the odd show on the television, but couldn’t. A constant underlying gnawing feeling nagged at him, like it had done for the last ten days. It had gotten worse, reaching the point where it was even stealing away his enjoyment. Ignoring it, he shifted his focus to his sister again. “How did you figure out what your Mark does?”
“As in my Stats?” Joline glanced briefly at her brother, who nodded. She then continued to watch television. “I don’t know exactly. I just do? It’s kinda like instinct, you know?” Pausing, she seemed to ponder the subject a bit more before continuing. “It is like discovering a new muscle in your body and gradually getting the hang of it? There are machines that supposedly measure each of the six Stats perfectly, but most of us Marked just get a ‘feel’ for it over time.”
“Strength, Endurance, Agility, Perception, Mental, and Vigor,” Marcus repeated, his memory flashing back to the folder Ali, the government official, had provided him after learning that his Power rating was only 1. He had examined the document many times, but it hadn’t clarified how those attributes should manifest or which Stat his single point had gone into.
“Exactly,” his sister confirmed, holding back a smirk that hinted at a surprised remark about her brother’s ability to read. “I’m a Beta+ rank, with a Power rating of 35, just 5 points short of moving up a rank,” she explained, showing her hands to reveal faint scars tracing patterns on her skin and the Marks on her own body. “I’m not quite sure how or why, but I just know that most of my points are in Strength and Endurance, and a few in Agility. None in the other categories.” Her hand then clenched into a fist, a faint but distinct creaking resonating as her knuckles whitened, showcasing the raw power that lingered within. “What that meant in terms of practical terms I figured out during working out and fighting actual monsters.”
Marcus didn’t know why but he just knew that his sister’s grip held the potential to shatter his hand with ease. Brushing off the unsettling realization, he chose humor to deflect his feelings. “Well, I already knew about the unchanged mental aspect you had going on. You’re still as dumb as I remember,” Marcus quipped, a grin forming as his sister’s clenched fist playfully transformed into a raised middle finger, accompanied by a sly chuckle. “But I don’t ‘feel’ anything different about me. Only this weird feeling inside of me, as if I’m pent up.”
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
”Ew! Gross, and totally not related to Stats. But it has been thirteen-”
”Not like that,” Marcus cut in, gaze locked on his right hand, seeing the black Marks imbedded across his skin. “I feel like there is this pressure building up inside of me. Both mental and physical. As if I need to do something.”
”Well,” Joline started, her voice trailing off as if lost in thought for a moment. After a minute, she continued, “Maybe you just haven’t gotten used to it yet? I mean, physically you’re still a mess, and mentally, you’re also still recovering. Remember, a few days ago, you could barely even speak. It’s possible you’ve got a Stat in Agility or maybe even Perception, but you’re still too early in your recovery to really notice it?”
”Perhaps,” Marcus said, his voice trailing off into a sigh as he sank deeper into the bed. He tried to lose himself in the television show again, ignoring the persistent unease within. Minutes slipped by like that, with the siblings sharing a comfortable silence, just watching the show. It felt almost normal, like old times when they lounged in their living room without a care in the world. Marcus occasionally adjusted his HUD, refining his mental clock’s accuracy. When his sister’s smartphone suddenly buzzed, Marcus knew it signaled the end of her visit. He knew he had to address the thing that had been eating away at him the last few days. “Laurens told me all about the financial debt you two have because of my treatment. So-”
“No, he didn’t,” she interjected, a gentle smile gracing her lips as she briefly glanced at her phone before tucking it away. “You might have been his favorite at one point. But I’ve had thirteen years to claim that spot.”
Marcus visibly twitched at the interruption, his expression betraying a mix of surprise and irritation before he composed himself. “Just tell me how much you and Martin owe because of my medical treatment. I know it is a lot,” he asked, his tone adopting a softer edge at the end. “Losing mom and dad… me… then the debt. No wonder Martin barely visits me and is so withdrawn.”
Joline’s expression softened as she rose from her seat, settling beside him on the bed. “Can’t help but be the big brother, huh?” Her smile was gentle as she embraced him, her hug offering a glimpse of her actual strength before she released him. “The debt is in my name and my name alone. Martin has nothing to do with it... and yeah, it’s not pocket change. Experimental treatment and all. But your ‘little’ sister is a Breacher, working for a decently powerful guild. It’s one of the better-paying gigs out there.” Her fingers brushed over the black Marks on the upper right side of Marcus’s face, tracing the intricate black as she brushed his long hair to the side.
“Martin’s had a tough time. Maybe even tougher than you. He just needs a chance to adjust to you being up and about, to seeing his brother’s black marks, and to get used to you constantly bringing up the past that he has tried so very hard to bury.” As she leaned down to plant a kiss on Marcus's forehead, the chain that held their parents' wedding rings around her neck dangled between them for a moment before she stood up again. “Just give him a little time. He loves his big brother. You know that.”
Her smartphone chimed once more, causing a fleeting hardness to cross her features, but Marcus raised his hand reassuringly. “It’s fine. Naptime was on my agenda.”
Giving a nod, she headed for the door, a smile tugging at her lips. “I’ll visit soon. And seriously, think about getting a haircut.” With that, she stepped out, gently shutting the door, leaving Marcus alone in the room. He replayed his conversation with his sister, his thoughts inevitably turning to his younger brother. He imagined the hardships his brother had endured, losing a limb and being close to their parents’ side when they died, forced to witness it. As fatigue washed over him, Marcus gradually drifted into a restless slumber.
- - -
Several hours had passed since the siblings had hung out, replaced by the darkness and quiet of night. Marcus sat perched on his bed. Beside him, the steel form of his other self diligently tended to his pistol, making every effort to clean it with just one arm. The process was awkward, with the robot’s fingers clumsily maneuvering a cloth and toothbrush over the firearm’s surface, or in any internal bit he could get his hands on. He figured it would need more than a wipe down, but felt like anything was better than nothing at this point.
Marcus watched the robot awkwardly remove the magazine before prying the remaining two bullets out from the pistol and magazine. Afterwards, the robot dropped the bullets onto his actual hands, allowing him to feel the coldness of the metal as his finger glided over the rounds. “If I didn’t have these back then, would I have been able to gain access to the other Monster-Glass pieces?” He then placed the rounds onto the tray next to him before picking up the single piece of Glass he had left. He sensed a faint energy emanating from it, the kind that felt odd up close. “It’s really something else to see it up close after reading about them and listening to Joline explain how they work,” he said as he gripped it tightly before tossing the object into the air. His steel counterpart quickly caught it—a move that even impressed Marcus. From what he’d learned, these Glass pieces were like receivers, drawing in Mana from the surrounding Sphere’s atmosphere to keep the monsters alive. In contrast the Orbs acted as Mana transmitters.
The robot slowly moved away from him while he observed its movements. He counted the measured steps of the robot, tallying up to six before the connection between them came to a halt. Marcus knew from experience that maintaining a physical connection with the robot would house his consciousness into two bodies. Not making physical contact, but remaining within the five-meter radius or around six paces, he could tap into the robot’s memories and senses, albeit with a slight delay. Moving beyond that range, their thoughts and memories ceased to flow freely, instead trickling sporadically in fragmented episodes. Five meters marked their divergence into two separate entities.
The robot then displayed the Monster-Glass to Marcus, giving it an animated wiggle before flinging it toward him. Reacting swiftly, Marcus just managed to clutch it with both hands, the impact a bit painful on his hands. “Could’ve gone easier on the toss,” he quipped, well aware that he wouldn’t have heeded such restraint if he were the one in the steel frame. With a grin, he hurled the Glass back, observing the robot’s left handed catch. The physical interaction felt good to Marcus, allowing him to clear his thoughts for a moment. More and more, his mind felt like a stressful whirlwind: his sister’s debt, the strained relationship between him and his younger sibling, his own recovery, and the persistent gnawing feeling that always demanded his attention. As the Glass came his way again, he fumbled, cutting his palm on one of its sharp edges, causing him to drop it involuntarily.
Grimacing, Marcus held back a stream of curses as he clenched his injured hand. He watched his blood trickle onto the bed, staining the sheets. A few droplets even managed to hit the Monster-Glass. The metallic glasslike material clashed with his own blood, his eyes widening as he gazed at the sight. “What if...” he began, his voice fading as the robot approached once more, crossing the five-meter mark to figure out what he was thinking. “Remember how Sis said how she kinda sensed her own Stats and Abilities? She said she just knew how her mark had changed her, right?” Marcus stated, more to himself than anything, though the robot acknowledged him with a nod. “We... I... shit, this is confusing. I’ve been trying to do the same, to feel or sense my Stats like my sister. But what if I’m... weird?”
The robot simply stood there, shoulders lifting and dropping in a shrug. Though it couldn’t speak, Marcus could read its response in the way it held itself. “Look, this constant gnawing sensation in me… it could be related. What if, unlike others with a Mark, my case is unique? I woke myself up by slamming twenty Glass pieces into my chest. You... shit... I saw it disintegrate, as if drained of all its juice. And then, a few days later, I got a Power rating measurement of 1.” Marcus scooped up the bloodied Monster-Glass, a grin tugging at his lips. “What if I actually started at zero because my mind was scrambled during the Tech event? It could have disrupted the normal process. Maybe stabbing myself with Glass pieces jolted it up to 1?”
The robot responded with a thumbs-up, wiggling the finger clock and counterclockwise, a hint of ‘maybe’ in the gesture before Marcus pressed on. “Seriously, just think about it. What if this gnawing feeling is actually this energy or whatever it is inside me, just waiting for directions?” The robot shrugged once more, while Marcus made his decision. “Let’s give it a shot,” he declared, setting the Glass beside him and hearing how his steel and plastic counterpart drew near his bedside. Marcus scratched the back of his head, trying to figure out where to start. He settled onto the hospital bed, closed his eyes, and reached inward, attempting to focus on the gnawing sensation, but failing to do anything. Time dragged on, and Marcus's irritation grew with each passing second. The robot’s fingers twitched now and then, a sign of the other Marcus’s impatience, until he grabbed the robot and instantly ended the distraction when they became one again.
After countless failed attempts, he teetered on the edge of hopelessness. Then, a memory resurfaced—something his uncle had taught him about grappling. The caution against excessive tension, which stifled throws and takedowns. Releasing his grip on the robot, he exhaled deeply. ‘Don’t focus on the throw, focus on the direction instead.’
He recalled each of the six Stats again, thinking about the pros and the cons about each. He wondered how much difference a single point would make in the long term, but figured even a single point of Strength or Endurance could help out a lot for his rehabilitation. Just as Marcus was about to choose one of them, he remembered the talk he had with his sister earlier today about the Mental Stat. He smiled, thinking about the insult he’d directed at her. As time went on, he slowly started warming up to the idea of the Mental Stat.
‘I’m dividing my consciousness over two bodies. I’ve learned to balance it a bit, but what if a higher Mental Stat could help me out? It could reduce a major weakness the robot and I have at the moment.’ he then opened his eyes and glanced at the Glass on the table coated in his own blood as a plan started to form in his mind, one as reckless as the one he had come up with ten days ago when he had stabbed himself. “Screw it.”
He fractured more of his mind, keeping a portion focused solely on the Mental Stat. In his mind, he pictured it as holding open a pathway leading towards it. With a deep breath, he brought back his HUD and forced it to list all six Stats, making the Mental Stat stand out. He honed in on it, letting go of everything else. Gradually, the gnawing feeling grew stronger as if it was no longer restrained, like a queasy moment turning into a sort of physical panic just before throwing up. It spread through his body, making the black Marks on his skin feel warm and hot, accompanied by brief stabs of pain. For a fleeting moment, he thought he saw a faint blue mist rising from those Marks before the sensation faded away.
He blinked a few times before he turned to his robotic self. “Well... that didn’t seem too...”
Searing pain suddenly gripped him, rendering him speechless beyond a sharp hiss. It exceeded any previous sensation of pain he had ever experienced in his whole life. Howls left his throat only for a steel hand to clamp on his mouth in an attempt to dampen the cacophony of agony. The black marks etched onto his right side of his face seared with an unnatural heat, as if burning into his very soul. At the same time an indescribable coldness gripped his brain. His eyes rolled backwards as a convulsive fit seized his body, its violent tremors coinciding with an internal change. Amidst this turmoil, a notification materialized on his HUD.
╔ ╗
[Mental] [+1]
╚ ╝
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Copyright: OsiriumWrites