Chapter 3: Welcome to Hell
I used to think survival was the point. That humanity could endure anything as long as it was alive in some form. Standing here, trapped in a body that clicks like a broken machine, I wonder if we ever truly understood what survival meant.
The capsules—they were our salvation. I remember the hope in our eyes, the determination, as we worked together on the Capsule Initiative. It wasn’t just about living; it was about preserving what was human, and what was worth saving. And in those moments, I still believe—no, I have to believe—that we did something good. That the capsules saved us. That they saved humanity. I have to believe it worked. That it wasn’t in vain. Even though the room around me is a mausoleum of my former life. Broken consoles litter the floor, their wires spilling out like entrails. Papers are scattered everywhere, yellowed with age, and the ink is smudged into forgotten calculations—a single fluorescent light flickers above, casting a sickly glow over the chaos. I built this place—or helped to. The labs were supposed to be a sanctuary, a last-ditch effort to save what was left of us.
But I can’t help but wonder: was this a sanctuary, or a tomb? I just hope it's the former. I have to hope that even if I ended up like this, trapped in a body that isn’t mine, the capsules did their job. That they gave humanity a second chance.
A message pops.
[System Alert: Energy reserves at 28%. Immediate action required.]
Data Source Detected: 600m ahead!
“Yeah? No shit!” I curse under my breath.
[Warning: Memory synchronization at 50%. Current understanding of surroundings may be incomplete. Energy must be replenished to maintain functionality.]
[Task Generated: Find Locked Record 1. Objective: Retrieve the story fragment. Energy reward: +30%.]
"Fifty per cent?" Like where is the other half of my memory? "You locked half my fucking memory? You son of a bitch!"
"System," I snarl every syllable a threat. "Unlock the rest. Now. Memory synchronization or whatever do it immediately!"
[Request denied. Additional fragments must be unlocked for full context.]
[System Alert: Energy reserves at 26%. Immediate action required.]
Data Source Detected: 600m ahead!
With my 50% memory, I do not recall being this much frustrated as I am now. Does the energy fall with me simply speaking huh? Do you want me to turn mute is that it?
"Fine, let's just go find that record or whatever" I start walking towards the door with 'Exit' written on it. It's dented but tightly sealed. I place a hand on the surface, the cold biting through even my reinforced fingers.
The system pings, a single line of text blinking across my vision:
[Warning: Unknown bio-signatures detected beyond this point]
Great. Just what I need. But do you think I will give up so easily? I start slamming my fist into the control panel.
Sparks fly, and for a moment, I think it might actually work. Then comes the dreaded error beep.
Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.
My claws scrape against the metal, the sound grating on my nerves, setting my teeth—or whatever I have now—on edge. Fine. If this door doesn’t want to cooperate, I’ll make it cooperate.
My claws scrape against the metal, the sound setting my teeth—or whatever I have now—on edge. Fine. If this door doesn’t want to cooperate, I’ll make it cooperate.
I plant my feet, grit my teeth, and slam both fists into the door with everything I’ve got. The impact reverberates through my arms, but I don’t stop. Again. And again. Each blow dents the metal, the sound echoing like gunfire.
“Break, damn it!”
With a final roar, I drive my shoulder into the weakened door. The hinges groan in protest, and the door crashes outward in a shower of sparks and screeching metal.
The moment the door gives way, chaos hits me like a freight train.
----------------------------------------
“What the actual fuck…”
The world outside was a goddamn nightmare.
Damn…they should’ve told me the world would already be a graveyard before I even woke up. Outside, the world is unrecognizable.
“Oi, system? What the hell happened here? Wasn’t it supposed to be a pandemic? Did I miss the memo about the apocalypse?”
System Loading...
Too many questions were received. The answers are not found in the database.
Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
I wanted to slap this system across the face if it had one.
Suddenly a question popped in my head I blurted out. “What year is it?”
System Loading...
Answer found: Year 2225.
I blink. 2225, the number flashing like a neon sign.
“Two… two-twenty-five?” My voice came out broken. “That’s… impossible. It was 2219. That’s six fucking years!”
I staggered back, my claws gripping the edge of a shattered wall for support. Memories flickered in my mind—half-formed images of the lab, the saw, the pain, and then… nothing. The blank space where six years of my life should’ve been was deafening.
“Damn it!” I roared, slamming a fist into the wall. The impact left a deep dent, dust and debris raining down around me.
I closed my eyes, taking a shaky breath—or trying to. My chest, or whatever mechanical approximation of it I had, heaved, but it brought no comfort.
“So, let me get this straight,” I muttered, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m a fucking Neurovault now, the world’s gone to shit, and six years of my life are just… gone?”
I close my eyes, taking a shaky breath—or trying to. My chest, or whatever mechanical approximation of it I had, heaved, but it brought no comfort.
I remember bits and pieces.
> The 23rd century was supposed to be a pinnacle of human achievement, a time when the nations of an entire continent had united under a singular banner—The Confederation of Terra. It was an era defined by unprecedented advancements in artificial intelligence, biotechnology, and space exploration. A future where disease had become a relic of the past, or so we thought.
>
> Until the pandemic outbreak. he virus had begun its spread, but there was hope. We had hope.
>
> The virus had no name yet—just a code—EXV-13—an innocuous series of letters and numbers that soon became synonymous with death and despair. People joked about it at first, calling it "the flu with a flair." But no one was laughing now.
System Notification: Requirements Fulfilled for 2219 Memory… Sync Progress: 1%
The world around me shifts, flickering like a broken hologram. For a moment, I’m back in the lab, standing next to the team. I see myself—young, confident, almost reckless—arguing with the others. "We don’t have time to waste," I’d said, voice filled with desperate resolve staring at the monitors. "EXV-13 is mutating too quickly. We need to accelerate the capsule program. It’s our best chance."
[System Notification: Memory Fragment End - Capsule Program Protocol]
The memory fades, and I’m back in the ruins.
I glance down. My limb which feels unnatural, not mine. It feels just like yesterday when I was a human but in reality 6 years have passed and everything had changed. While I am alive...no I am dead. Yes while the human me is dead did anyone survive?
[System Alert: Energy Levels Critical | 20%]
“Yeah, I know,” I mutter. Perhaps I already know the answer but I refuse to believe this.
System Notification: 400 meters to Data Source.
I follow the waypoint, my movements jerky and mechanical. Each step is a struggle. As I walk, the system continues to feed me fragments of synchronized memory. The world of 2219 overlaps with the desolation of 2225.
> No breeze, no life—no wailing. Dead, rotting, whatever poetic metaphor you want to slap on it. The sky is the colour of a bruise—sickly purple and red with streaks of blood-orange. The sun I can barely see, hiding behind a layer of ash and smoke thick enough to strangle. The ground? Don’t even get me started. It’s cracked and blackened, pulsing with faint heat like the planet’s still simmering from whatever hellfire cooked it alive.
>
> The buildings don’t fall anymore because there’s nothing left to fall. The streets don’t crack because there’s no weight left to press down. No people. No birds.
> Whatever it was, I kept on walking. I step over what used to be a street—a grid of scorched asphalt, melted into the earth like blackened scars. The air probably smells like old wires or burnt hair, a mix that should have made me want to gag, but this body doesn’t come with the luxury of reflexes anymore. Hell, it doesn’t come with much of anything except endless fucking questions. What happened here? Why am I still alive?
>
> The city stretches out before me, a skeleton of what it once was. Streets are clogged with debris, overturned vehicles rusting into nothingness.
The waypoint directs me through the ruins, towards a structure half-collapsed under layers of debris. I push my way inside, the door creaking in protest. The room is dark, save for the faint glow of a terminal buried beneath a mountain of ash and wreckage.
Data Source Detected.
Begin Assimilation? Y/N
Energy Cost: 5%. Energy Gain: +30%
"Cost?" I mutter, staring at the glowing screen. "You mean I have to spend energy to gain energy? What bullshit is that?"
But I don’t have a choice. If I don’t assimilate this data, my energy will run out. I press my clawed hand to the console...Y
The screen flares to life, and images flood my vision.
[The year 2219.
NovaGenics Facility, Sector 12.
Project Lead: Dr. Adam Kryos.
Subject: EXV-13 Capsule Containment Protocols. ]
I see myself again, arguing with my team. The virus was spreading faster than anticipated, mutating into something we couldn’t control. The capsules were our only hope, but there weren’t enough of them.
"Prioritize essential personnel," I’d said, with urgency. "We have to save them"
The moment I sign the order to seal the fate of millions—myself included. The moment I condemn humanity to its fate.
The memory cuts off, and I’m left staring at the terminal, my metallic body trembling.
Assimilation Complete. Energy Reserves Restored: +30%. Energy: 45%. Memory synchronized...51%
I step back, my head spinning. The system flashes before me with bright red text.
[ENEMY PRESENCE DETECTED]