CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Pilar of Loss
Still clutching his backpack, Marcus reached his brother’s workplace half an hour later. He kept his gaze on the wide building looming ahead, with several trucks parked out front. He blinked, surprised at how close the building was to his sister’s guild; squinting, he could even make out its distant outline.
Turning his attention back to the building in front of him, he noticed the massive sign bearing the words NeoGen Industries. Marcus let out a low whistle before stepping through the glass doors into a lobby of polished floors and marble-and-steel pillars.
‘What kind of job did you land, Martin?’ Marcus thought, eyeing the blend of opulent and modern surroundings. Off to the right, he spotted the secretary, who regarded him with a calm, calculating expression, her eyes lingering a moment too long on his hoodie and red sneakers.
“Hey there, I’m here to see my brother, Martin Smit,” he said as he walked over.
“I see,” she said politely, maintaining eye contact and gesturing toward the screen next to her. “Do you have an appointment with him?”
“I’m his brother,” Marcus said, raising an eyebrow at the idea of needing an appointment to see family.
“I recall you mentioning that, sir,” she replied politely, with a firm undertone. “But NeoGen Industries has a strict visitation policy. Perhaps you can try calling your brother?” She smiled warmly, but Marcus sensed an icy edge hidden underneath.
“I left my phone at home. Mind giving him a call for me?” Marcus countered, tapping the phone on her desk with his right index finger, making sure she noticed his black Marks—as if those on his face weren’t obvious enough. Something about the woman grated on him, not to mention calling his brother was useless; the man rarely picked up, if ever. “Can you ring him for me?”
He shot her a glare when she politely refused, then heard movement behind him.
“Marcus?” He shifted his gaze to the right and saw his brother in the hallway, along with three of his coworkers. “What are you doing here?” Martin asked, looking a bit confused.
“I’m here to see my little brother at work,” Marcus said warmly, stepping back from the desk and flashing the woman a victorious grin before heading over to Martin. “Can we talk?”
Martin hesitated, glancing at his coworkers before letting Marcus follow him. With a nod, Marcus fell into step beside his brother as they left the reception area, the click of Martin’s crutches echoing through the corridor.
As they moved through the hallway, Marcus couldn’t help but look around, taking in the bustling activity of NeoGen Industries. He could see several labs, each with technicians and interns working on various projects. Prototypes were being built and tested, while engineers bustled about, engrossed in their work.
Trying to make conversation, Marcus gestured towards one of the labs. “What’s that project they’re working on?”
Martin glanced briefly at the lab Marcus was referring to before answering, “Just some R&D stuff.”
Undeterred, Marcus tried again as they passed another lab. “And what about that one?”
“Experimental service drones. Mana-tech,” Martin replied shortly.
Marcus sighed internally, realizing his brother wasn’t in the mood for small talk. He kept quiet as they continued down the hallway until they reached a private room with Martin’s name on the door. Martin pushed open the door, revealing a small, tidy office, so neat it felt almost uncomfortable.
Marcus followed him inside, taking in the sight of Martin’s workspace. A desk held several papers and an expensive looking laptop, along with a few personal touches—a photo of their parents and a mug with an engineering joke Marcus didn’t understand. Martin settled into his chair behind the desk, motioning for him to take a seat opposite him.
“What do you want, Marcus?” he asked, his voice weary.
“I just wanted to catch up,” Marcus said, aiming for a casual tone despite the tension in the air. “It’s been a while since we talked. And I wanted to see where you work.”
Martin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I see. Well, you’ve seen it. If you’d like, I can have one of our interns give you a proper tour.”
Marcus frowned, hurt by his brother’s dismissive tone. Before he could respond, Martin continued, his voice softer this time. “I’m sorry, Marcus. It’s just been… hectic at work lately. I don’t have a lot of free time right now. Sorry.”
Marcus nodded, trying to be understanding despite the heaviness in his gut. He knew Martin’s job was a handful, but the chasm between them felt wider than ever. “Got it. Maybe you can give me a tour yourself sometime in the future, when you aren’t as busy? I’d like that,” he said as he rose, shifting his gaze around the room at framed newspaper clippings and awards highlighting Martin’s accomplishments.
‘I’ve missed so much of his life,’ Marcus realized as he felt a stab in his soul, recalling how young Martin had been during the Great Impact. Pushing the emotions down and wanting to distract himself, he focused on several contraptions under a protective glass dome on a table.
“Did you make these?” he inquired, tapping the glass.
Martin followed his brother’s gaze and nodded slowly. “My team put them together.” He explained that they were early versions of safety mechanisms for explosives used within Spheres, with some of the later versions now mandatory in some of the grenades and mines used by Breachers within the Netherlands.
Marcus continued to look around the room, spotting a cylindrical device with a needle. “I think I’ve seen these things before,” Marcus said, taking a closer look at the object. “A non-marked Breacher I work with uses these before stepping inside a Sphere.”
“That was our first attempt at designing an injector and container for Mana-Binding Proteins,” Martin explained. “Mind you, this device predates my employment here. I heard it was promising, but the deal eventually went to our competitors. I think one of my colleagues is busy with making a newer model.”
“I didn’t know NeoGen Industries was involved in so many things,” Marcus admitted before smiling as he looked at some of the awards on another wall. There, he also noticed an article about a massive merger with another Tech company that specialized in robotics.
“Tin cans, huh?” he asked, pointing at the article. “Is that something you’re personally involved with?”
Martin shook his head. “No. I’m currently overseeing a project for clean energy conversion using Mana-tech. Robots were all the rage years ago, but interest and funding dwindled after the Great Impact. Electronic devices and machines can’t survive within a Sphere, and there’s not much funding for it these days.”
He tapped his fingers on the table briefly before continuing. “Our company focuses on Mana-tech designs for both experimental and everyday use, but we also handle contracts for specialized Breacher gear and new prototypes. Basically, we follow the credits.”
“So no robots?” Marcus asked, turning his attention back to his brother.
“No robots,” Martin said, flipping open his laptop and clicking a few times before opening a folder. “We bought out some startups that experimented with robotics, and from what I see here, we have several terabytes of stored research and old schematics. But no, we don’t focus on robots—just machines that help with prototype manufacturing. Why?”
“No reason, really. I’ve just been reading up on them lately,” Marcus said, giving his brother a faint smile. He felt tempted to tell him everything, to explain what he had been through and endured since he first woke up in that junkyard.
‘Martin’s always been the smartest guy I know. He could help me with my robots. Hell, working together might show him that I want to protect my family—and help the world,’ he thought. ‘Maybe that would mend things. But what if he freaks out? I did keep all of this a secret for weeks, and have committed several crimes back when I was surviving as a robot.’
He steadied his nerves before speaking again, deciding to carefully test the waters. “The last thing I remember before my coma was walking around the Tech-expo, seeing all the robots and sci-fi stuff. I guess it stuck with me. It looked pretty cool. And I remember how you used to love robots and—”
“I’m not that little boy anymore,” Martin retorted sharply, stopping his brother mid-sentence. Martin looked surprised at his own abruptness, his features softening in the next breath. “Look... it’s been years. People change.”
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“I... I know that. I do,” Marcus said, his gaze fixed on his brother. ‘Fuck, why do I keep messing things up with him?’ he wondered, clenching his jaw before relaxing it. “I get it. You’re an adult now, and you’ve accomplished more than I ever will. I mean, you even look older than me these days. But I’m just going off what I remember, what I know about you. Sorry if I said something stupid.”
Martin sighed, leaning further back in his chair, frustration clear on his face. “It’s fine. Forget about it. What do you want, Marcus? Why are you even here?”
“What do you mean?” Marcus asked, confusion coloring his tone as he stared at his stoic brother. “I just want to be your brother and be there for you. I want to go back to how we used to be, if you’ll let me. Hell, maybe even work together.”
Martin's face tightened, eyes narrowing before he regained control. “Follow me. I want you to see something,” Martin said, then slowly got up, grabbed his crutches, and left the office. Marcus blinked a few times before hurrying after his younger brother.
- - -
Sitting in the passenger seat of his brother’s car, Marcus gazed out the window at the landscape passing by. The once-familiar sight of his hometown lay in ruins, surrounded by a large fence that stretched as far as he could see. Signs of destruction and decay were evident everywhere—buildings collapsed or partially standing, overgrown with vegetation reclaiming the land. Warning signs dotted the fences at regular intervals, their messages faded but still discernible: Keep out! In the silence between them, Marcus felt the ache of loss and the bitter taste of tainted memories.
Martin drove on, his expression unreadable, hands steady on the wheel as they neared their destination. When a large black pillar came into view, Martin steered the car toward it and parked close by.
“We’re here,” he said softly, breaking the heavy silence between them.
Stepping out of the car, Martin grabbed his crutches, and his brother followed suit. They made their way toward the towering round pillar, its dark surface slightly reflecting sunlight. As they drew closer, Marcus could make out the thousands of names etched into the smooth black stone, each one a reminder of lives lost, of dreams shattered because of one single event.
“We’re home,” Martin whispered, his voice barely audible above the wind.
Standing before the monument, Marcus felt a surge of emotions wash over him, memories flooding back with each name he read, recognizing dozens. He searched for what felt like hours until he finally found it, his fingers gently tracing the chiseled names of Liane and Bas Smit.
“Mom and dad,” he whispered, his voice lacking the strength to convey what he was actually feeling in that moment. He turned to his brother, who stood beside him, silent yet resolute, his gaze fixed on the pillar before them.
They stood together for a long moment, two brothers bound by shared history and loss. After a long silence, Martin spoke. “There are pillars like this all over the country. A dark reminder of all that we’ve lost. We can’t mourn properly, can’t rebuild, can’t go back home because of all the dead zones that are still out there.”
Marcus stared at the large fence before him, now close enough to read the warning labels. The faded letters let him know it was dangerous and forbidden to go beyond that point. ‘Dead zones,’ he thought, recalling all he’d heard and read about them—hotspots for new Spheres, littered with buried Glass pieces or dormant Orbs, just waiting to turn into full-on Spheres.
He placed his hand on the pillar, pressing his palm against it to pay his respects, then stepped back. “Why did you want to come here?”
Martin took in the sight of their destroyed hometown, ignoring his brother’s question as he spoke. “What did Joline tell you about how I lost my leg? What did she say about mom and dad?”
Marcus paused, absorbing the weight of Martin’s words before answering, hesitant. “She told me one of those meteors hit our home, collapsing the building on top of you three. You got pinned down and lost your leg. Mom and Dad died shortly after, crushed in the rubble,” Marcus said, his jaw tightening as he spoke the words while, angry at hearing himself speak them out loud.
“Joline said it was bad... that you were forced to see and hear it. Uncle Laurens and her told me that you don’t like talking about it. If you want... I’m willing to listen.”
Martin let out a soft chuckle before shifting his gaze upwards to stare at the sky before he closed his eyes.
“Our Joline, ever the protector. You’re lucky to have her as your sibling,” he whispered, opening his eyes again to face his brother. “It’s true, a meteor crashed into our house, trapping mom and me. I was forced to see her slowly get crushed to death by the debris that was pressing down on her. But what Joline didn’t tell you was the fact that Dad tried to dig us out before the monsters swarmed him,” Martin explained, his gaze shifting to the black pillar, where the names of their parents were engraved. “We could hear dad trying to fight them all off. He was brave... in the beginning.”
A silence enveloped the two brothers as Martin turned his attention back to his brother.
“Dad died screaming as they tore into him. They didn’t even kill him right away. The monsters just focused on eating him alive while ignoring his struggles. Mom’s last moments on earth were feeling her body breaking under the rubble while hearing her husband being torn apart... bit... by... bit,” he said, his voice heavy as he looked back at the black pillar. “Sis didn’t tell you that part, to protect you, like everyone’s been doing since you woke up again. She probably didn’t mention how it took hours before she found me—her little brother bleeding out, missing a leg, suffering from advanced stages of Mana-sickness.”
Marcus’s throat went dry as he stared at his brother, imagining the horrors he must’ve seen and heard.
“Martin, I’m sorry—”
“I don’t need your sorry. What I needed back then was my brother,” Martin interrupted him calmly, still facing the pillar. “When I was eleven, you were my world... my hero. You and Dad were supposed to protect our family.” Martin turned slowly, his expression unreadable. “Mom needed you there... dad needed you by his side. You weren’t there. Instead, I nearly lost everything and sis had to carry the weight of the world on her own, fighting those horrors for a living in order to keep you alive in the hospital and helping me recover and afterwards putting me through school and salvaging what little she could of my childhood. And now you are here... healthy... and just like I remember you. I can’t stand being around you. You echo old hurt.”
He took one last look at his brother before he made his way back to the car, pausing briefly when he passed Marcus.
“Back in my office, you said you wanted to be there for your brother?” Martin pointed back at the black pillar, his expression hardening. In that moment, Marcus glimpsed everything his brother had kept hidden these past weeks, seeing it in his eyes. “Your little brother... you can find that boy on that pillar too. He died that day, next to his screaming parents,” Martin said coldly before he continued toward his car.
Marcus clenched his fists, his thoughts consumed by the unimaginable horrors Martin had endured as a child. He could almost hear the echoes of screams, igniting an anger he’d tried to keep in check these past few weeks.
He turned and saw his brother reach the car and open the door.
“Martin, please wait,” he pleaded desperately. Martin hesitated, their eyes locking, but neither spoke. Marcus watched as his brother slid into the car and drove off, leaving him alone beside the pillar, the weight of the dead pressing on him with silent judgment.
‘He’s right... I should’ve been there,’ he thought. His fists tightened as he forced himself to stare at his parents’ names again, letting each letter burn into his soul. The fire inside him burned hotter, raging to the point where it felt like it might consume him.
‘Never again,’ he vowed, moving toward the fence. He burned through every bit of Mana in his system, then jumped in one violent burst. A second later, he reached the top of the gate and pulled himself over with ease. He landed on the other side with a small thud and moved forward. Walking through the ruins of his hometown, he made a straight line towards his old home.
Marcus forced himself to keep a calm pace, his heart heavy as he took in the destruction surrounding him. Some houses still stood, damaged and overgrown by nature, while others were burned-out husks or mere craters. He compared what he was seeing to how the town used to be, remembering small shops, a sports bar he and Oscar used to try to sneak into, and spotting Felix’s old home, or what remained of it.
‘This place is a graveyard,’ he thought, turning the corner into the next street and spotting the ruins of a large apartment complex. Some of the houses still standing were boarded up, while others showed faded graffiti symbols on the walls and doors. Marcus couldn’t tell if rescue workers had marked the houses after searching for survivors, if vandals had left a statement, or if looters had marked potential targets.
His expression hardened as he finally spotted his old home, taking in the partially collapsed structure and destroyed roof. He froze, recalling his brother’s words, imagining himself trapped in that building as a young boy, forced to watch his mother die before his eyes, helpless to save her, while hearing his father being devoured.
“Never again,” he muttered before moving forward again, each step fueled by rage. “Nothing is ever going to harm my family again.”
He circled the house, looking for a safe way in and noting that the front section had completely collapsed. Spotting the shattered kitchen window, he decided to climb through it, crouching down to make his way further into the house.
As he crawled through the ruins, Marcus took in the aftermath of the Great Impact 13 years ago and the years of neglect. Now inside, he saw the collapse’s extent, a shadow of its former self. Broken beams and crumbling walls surrounded him, evidence of the devastation that had struck so long ago. Vines snaked up the walls like grasping fingers, while weeds pushed through cracks in the foundation, reclaiming the space from human habitation. Now and then, the old building groaned, bits crumbling off, and he wondered if the rest might collapse around him.
He spotted a few remnants from his childhood, including a broken ceramic cup his mother used to drink from and the destroyed arm of the sofa they used to sit on. Finally, he reached a spot where the room opened up, bent steel emergency support beams looming overhead. Looking around, he noticed faded stains on the old floorboards, mostly hidden under layers of dust.
Marcus wiped away some of the dust, uncovering more stains and deep grooves in the wood that resembled claw marks. His jaw tightened as he recognized what he was seeing and what had happened there. He pulled his gaze away from the sight and noticed a broken section of the wall.
‘It looks like it was punched through,’ he thought, moving closer. ‘Did Joline do this with her bare hands?’
He paused, imagining the state she must’ve been in, rushing home even after being struck by a meteor that had Marked her, changing her body and mind forever, only to find her father int hat state.
He finally crawled through the gap and peered into a small chamber surrounded by caved-in sections of the house. Inside, he saw more discoloration marring the floor in the corner as he brushed away the dust. Beyond the stains, he saw smaller scratch marks etched into the wood a little further on.
“They don’t look like claw marks,” Marcus muttered as he traced them, pressing his fingers into the damaged wood until it all started to make sense. His gaze followed the scratches, where his little brother had clawed at the floor, struggling to drag himself toward something.
Marcus’s gaze narrowed on the stains on the ground there, near a part of the wall that had collapsed.
“Mom...” he muttered, his voice breaking as he sat beside the traces of his little brother in the wood, realizing the hell Martin had endured. He lost himself moments later, his body tensing as tears slipped down his cheeks.