Adam looked around him. A group of spectators sat on nearby stands, hands frozen mid-clap. These men and women had been recruits like him, dressed in the standard US Marines combat uniform. Their faces were blurred in this space, like a photograph left out in the rain. The ethereal blue sky remained.
He clenched and unclenched his fists. He breathed in the familiar earthy smell of the Crucible’s training ground. He recounted all the events that happened in this space, summed them all up, and came to a single conclusion.
"No. None of this makes sense."
The girl sighed. "I told Her as much. You’re not an Astraean, after all. It will be difficult this time."
"Did you not hear what I just said?" Adam said. "This doesn’t make sense. What’s a Chosen? Who even are you? Give me some straight answers, damn it!"
"A chosen one, Adam." The girl said. "Like a knight who saves the princess from a dragon, or a king who pulls the holy sword out of a stone. Earth has long since forgotten the significance of a chosen one, but for my fair Astraea, the title of a Chosen is taken very seriously indeed. It designates someone who will awaken hope amongst evil. You should feel honored."
"I don’t," Adam said.
"I thought you might. You are unique, even for the Chosen. As for this body…" The girl smiled, but the edges were tinged with sadness. "I’m sorry, but this is an image projected from one of Her poor, lost War Maidens. Her name doesn’t matter yet.."
"Oh, for fuck’s sake—"
"An answer is an answer. Now, my turn. Do you remember what happened after you graduated?"
Of course, he did. He boarded the bus to the School of Infantry and…
Huh?
He lifted his hand to his face. The follow-up was obvious, so why couldn’t he remember?
"Maybe you never arrived at all. Maybe you are already in a far different place than Earth. Maybe…" The girl clutched her face and fell to her knees. A strangled cry escaped her mouth. "…it’s too late for more questions. We’re out of time."
"Hey, you okay?" Adam asked.
"Gaze upon me, Adam." The girl raised her face. The flesh rippled. Greyish matter broke out from the surface and carved itself into the shape of a hexagon. Her head twisted sideways with a sickening crack as a crimson aura surrounded her shuddering frame. "This is what happened to that girl. Painful, isn’t it? She is experiencing this in person."
Adam’s mouth dried up. He threw a punch into his own face. Nothing happened.
A metallic spike protruded from the side of her head. It twisted around and carved up her left cheek. The skin fell away from a torrent of blood. A layer of gray goo poured out, sealing up the wounds. A moan squeezed through gritted teeth, ending in a loud scream. A wave of energy blasted around her, cracking the ground and knocking Adam back.
"The War Maidens fought for justice and the sanctity of humanity! Beautiful, powerful, and shining with hope, they were some of Her most beloved children." She cried. "But they were lost in an awful place drenched in heresy and corruption. Even She could not reach them, until she came across a certain Chosen."
Adam, mouth agape, pointed at himself. The girl looked back with a swiveling eye socket and smiled. "Correct."
"No." Adam said.
"She is sorry, Adam."
"I don’t care. "
"She wants you to save the War Maidens, along with any other Astraeans you can find."
"No! Screw you, screw your boss and screw those War Maidens!" He slammed his foot on the ground, teeth bared. The girl watched him, apathetic to the red aura swirling up her body and twisting her flesh into steel. "I had plans, y’know. I was gonna become a proper Marine and earn a decent living. Ain’t no way I’m fighting for a bunch of girls I don’t know about! You, her, whoever the hell—you all have no right!"
"She is so very sorry, Adam. But you were the only one She could find with a connection to that world."
A drop of red bled through the patchwork of stars, stagnating the canvas a dull crimson.
The girl gave him one final smile. "I wish you the best of luck."
Adam charged at her, only for a star to fall and split the earth wide open. One by one, feminine figures poured out of it, just as disfigured, horrible, and corrupted as the first. They clung towards him, begging with hollow eyes, as a six-star sigil burned across their foreheads. They pulled him down into the earth and deeper into the dream.
The bottom gave way to open space. He rocketed towards a crimson sphere, surrounded by dark clouds and scattered asteroids. A chorus of voices pounded like the beats of a war drum as he fell.
Save us.
Find us, defeat us, purify us.
Save the War Maidens, oh Chosen of Astraea!
Simulated Evaluation Complete!
Adam’s eyes slammed open. A pair of curved double doors slid open, ejecting cold mist into his face.
"Wha…what the …" Adam slurred. His legs felt weak like runny custard. He took three shuddering breaths, shivering, and dragged himself out of the pod towards a nearby table.
"Where am I?" He moaned.
Astraean Defense Order Specialized Combat Harness (ADOSCH) has been successfully initialized. May Her Providence shine now and forever upon you!
Now proceeding with bootup sequence…
Please stand by…
The translucent blue text clung across his vision like raindrops on glass. Adam swiped his hand. His fingers passed straight through the words.
Checking the basics…
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Augmentation Foci: Installed!
Mystic Core: Installed!
HUD Suite: Online!
Life systems of User: No abnormalities detected!
Verifying integrity of base components…
Oh, a HUD. Adam thought. Similar to the inside of the smart helmet he nicked for the older boys as a kid. That makes sense.
A second later: No, actually, none of this makes sense.
A shiver ran down his back. He backed away and saw a large, translucent cylinder in front of him, mist wafting out of the front gap. A ceiling light spluttered to life—revealing empty beds and machines on wheels. A sign hung above a nearby doorway. His vision registered a cluster of hexagons, squares, and circular patterns. ‘Medbay A’ his brain read.
He coughed the aftertaste of old cleaning fluid. A dull quietness, broken not even by the humming of machines, permeated the room.
Astraean. The word from the dream reverberated through his mind. He remembered it all. War Maidens. Find them. Save them.
No! He clapped his cheeks. Fuck that noise. His life was his own. He didn’t even know where he was, for starters. The echoes of his drill instructors—screaming from the rafters of the obstacle course—swarmed his ears. Get your bearings. Stop standing around. Observe, Private!
The room was a windowless box of white chrome and broken machinery. Empty beds lay across from Adam, containing piles of clothes and white sheets. Layers of dust coated them and the nearby desks and cabinets. One of the walls held the symbol of six wings enshrouding a hexagonal emblem, the paint still pristine.
He pressed his ear against the wall. Nothing. He was alone. His sleeves lacked khaki.
"What the hell?"
He clutched a wad of navy-blue fabric, its texture smooth like plastic yet snug like cotton. White lines ran across the shoulders and arms. He twisted his body, the cloth clinging to his flesh without a hint of unwanted tightness or slack. A metal zipper ran down the front down to the waist.
His sister’s pendant—oh god oh fuck where is it—still hung around his neck. It had only been stolen in a dream.
Thank Christ.
He pressed it tight against his chest as his body shivered. If he lost this…he didn’t even want to go near that train of thought.
It was the only silver lining in a cloudy sky filled with unanswered questions. Why were the windows barred? Why did the computers here lack any cables or desktops? He walked over to the nearby cabinet and prised the cover open. A jumble of syringes and foreign bottles stared back at him. Rapid Regenerative Injective Solution, one read, also in the same foreign yet familiar language.
Biological evaluation…complete!
Mechanical evaluation…complete!
Psychological evaluation…complete!
Integrity has been fully verified!
Welcome, new User. Please input your name. Both verbal and mental commands will work.
"Gah!"
Name has been interpreted as ‘Gah’. Is this correct?
"No. Hell no." Adam sighed. Right. This…computer in his vision was still here. "Name’s Adam Westfield."
Name has been interpreted as ‘Adam Westfield’. Is this correct?
"Yeah."
Name has been registered successfully! Scanning for pre-existing ADO identification…
Identification not found! Identification can be set later under Personal Information. Please do so as soon as possible to avoid conflict issues.
It is recommended that User Adam Westfield use thought-based commands from now on to avoid creating unnecessary noise.
Alright box, you got a manual in there?
Opening User Manual…
The Astraean Defense Order Specialized Combat Harness (ADOSCH) is a network of biological, cybernetic, mystical, and ontological augmentations intended for special personnel of the Astraean Defense Order (ADO).
The diagram of a human body bisected down the vertical appeared on the interface. One side held the outer layer, while the other had the inner organs. Multiple lines stretched from various parts that trailed towards clusters of flesh, sleek machinery, or combinations of both. Part of the interface zoomed in to reveal a dissection of Adam’s blood vessels in the arm; multiple tiny grey specks floated in the bloodstream. In the top right, a hexagonal star rotated within a blue sphere.
Unlike other augmentation networks, ADOSCH is designed to run in conjunction with the natural development of its User. With enough experience, Users will be capable of displaying exceptional physical, mental, and mystical prowess within the far upper distribution of the Astraean Typical Assessment (ATA) rating. The current iteration of the project is Prototype-2.
Several clips played, demonstrating unknown men and women performing various feats in a white room. They ran across large distances without breaking a sweat. They smashed through a brick wall with their fist, then stomped a steel cube flat. A dozen beams of light shot at the target, who dodged while barely moving their body.
The neck in Adam’s veins throbbed. "You saying someone put all of this crap in me without my consent?" He growled.
Query interpreted as wishing to understand the creators of ADOSCH. ADOSCH was created as a collaboration between the Department of Technology and the Department of Mysticism under the name of Project Themis…
(Proofread Status: FALSE; Estimated Reading Time: 1 HRS. Continue reading?)
"No. No, no, no. Christ, if that’s what you got, you probably don’t even know." Adam said. He stuck his hands down the jumpsuit collar and felt his body up. He continued with the neck, arms, legs, and face. There was no trace of surgery scarring, not even the faintest blemish. He wiggled his muscles about. Coldness aside, his body didn’t feel any different.
Reading postponed. Proceeding with the rest of the initialization.
He folded his arms. "Why should I do that? I’m not a member of the ADO."
Query interpreted as FALSE. Only ADO personnel would be granted access to ADOSCH.
Adam opened his mouth, only for a shrill beep to pierce his ears. His head swiveled around, checking the beds, then the nearby computers. There! An icon of a radio tower at the top-right of his vision.
Transmission detected. Source: UNKNOWN. Would Adam Westfield like to receive?
"Yes," Adam said, after a few seconds. The window expanded, revealing the face of a young woman. Dark hair, sunken cheeks, the type of eyes that had evaded sleep for more than a few days. She peered up at the screen, squinting.
"Hey, you. The one with the life signals. Can you hear me?" The woman’s voice rang through Adam’s ears. It did not come from any external source.
"Yeah, I hear you," Adam said. "Who is this?"
"Communications Operator Miriam Pereia of the ADO’s 451 Battalion." The woman responded. "Care to inform me how you got into this base?"
"That’s what I’d like to know!" He glanced behind him. "I have no damn clue what’s going on. Just woke up in this cryo tube and I don’t remember signing up for it at all!"
"Wait, seriously? Are you a civilian?" Miriam asked.
"Sure as hell not part of the ADO."
"Well, guess today’s your unlucky day, civvie." Miriam slumped back in a recliner chair, arms dangling by her side. "Maybe you can cryo yourself back in."
"What are you on about?"
"Because there’s a hostile approaching you right now."
The metallic doors screeched open. A humanoid figure shambled down the entranceway, a sick gurgling sound pouring out of a mangled mouth.