Wellsprings

October 30th

2069

The further into the room she walked, the more Sophie’s instincts screamed at her. It wasn’t to warn her about danger, she knew that much. It felt more like she was being warned that something was going to happen.

As her feet carried her over an invisible boundary, she caught a flicker of movement to her right, originating from a door that had previously been hidden by the kitchen. She turned slightly, clutching the grip of her pistol tighter.

Suddenly, she found herself restrained, arms pressed against her body as a second pair of unfamiliar arms wrapped themselves around her. In the same moment, a woman seemed to materialise in front of her, engulfing her in a crushing embrace.

Strong! Why’s she so strong!? Actually, why the fuck is she touching me!? The woman, who Sophie suspected was the one that had called, squeezed her so tightly she was surprised none of her organs burst. Sophie started to panic at the unfamiliar touch.

The feeling of being crushed combined with the close contact made her begin struggling to escape. Despite her arms being pinned, she tried to raise her pistol enough to squeeze a shot off into the woman’s side. However, a subtle shift in the way she was being hugged put a halt to her movements. Sophie wasn’t sure whether it was on purpose or if it was an accident but either way, it made things more difficult.

Feeling her oxygen depleting and the futility of using her gun, she dropped it before drawing her knives. This time there was no weird shift, allowing her to plunge her blades straight into the woman’s sides. At least, that’s what should have happened.

For some reason, the blades just slipped straight off her assailant's clothes. Beginning to get light-headed, she tried again, but each time she inflicted no damage. Even when the blades didn’t slip off, they were blocked by some kind of hard surface that covered the woman’s body beneath her clothes.

The realisation that she may very well be dealing with a full-body conversion ‘borg intensified her desperate struggle to get out of the hold. Even worse was that the woman didn’t seem to notice what was happening. Or she didn’t care.

She kicked and writhed but the arms remained firmly around her body. Finally, she gave up her struggle. She started tapping rapidly on the woman’s back, begging to be released. “...Tight…Can’t…breathe…”

The words appeared to startle the woman, who quickly let go while leaving an afterimage behind. “Oh dear! I’m so sorry about that! Sometimes I forget my own strength.” She used her immense speed again to cup the sides of Sophie’s gasping face.

She tried to pull away but the woman held firm, nearly ripping her head off as she fought back. Her face was lifted up and inspected, receiving a slight nod. “Hmm, you look a bit different from how my little Lily described…No matter! Come in, come in. Take a seat!”

She didn’t get a chance to think as, once again, the woman seemed to blur, vanishing from her spot before appearing on the massive white lounge. She sat down, then gestured to the seat across from her while giving her a blinding smile.

Sophie didn’t move over immediately though. She didn’t buy the ‘forgetting her own strength’ excuse. No. To her, that whole display was an intimidation tactic. The worst thing was that it worked. The strength and speed the woman had displayed was leagues above her own, not to mention the possibility she was a ‘borg.

So she settled for what she could control, picking up her gun and holding it close in case she was ambushed again. At the same time, her mind was racing to figure out what exactly was going on. Who the fuck is Lily!? Is this Ophelia? Please tell me it’s not. I don’t want to speak with this crazy bitch!

Unfortunately, she was already deep in unknown territory and backing out didn’t seem like a viable idea. “Fucking cyberpsycho bitch…” She muttered. She grit her teeth and warily shuffled over, making sure to keep an eye on the woman at all times.

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She received a strange, almost innocent look in return as she made her way to the offered seat and it made her stop dead in her tracks. She’d been on the back foot from the moment the first call came through and she was sick of it. Despite believing she couldn’t leave the villa until she spoke with the woman, she could be defiant.

She moved over to the kitchen area while keeping her eyes trained on the woman, where a set of stools were arrayed around an island benchtop. She grabbed one of them and as she did, she glanced around for any routes that would allow her to escape quickly, as well as other security measures she may have missed. There were a few doors, some leading outside and some leading to other rooms, as well as some additional disabled security turrets. Would I be able to make it out before dying? I’m not sure.

A mixture of fear, anger and defiance roiled around in her stomach as she stalked over to the back of the seat she was previously offered. She slammed the stool she’d acquired down and while she sat, her pistol remained at the ready. The new position would allow her to keep an eye on more of the room, plus the lounge was now in between herself and the psycho bitch.

Her behaviour got a questioning look but it was shrugged off as the woman turned and yelled towards a hidden staircase on the far side of the room.

“Dear! Our guest is here! I swear, don’t you make me come up there!” Once she finished, she turned her attention back to Sophie, speaking in a more normal tone. “Hello! You’re Sophie, right! It’s lovely to meet you!” She said, still beaming at her.

Sophie looked at her cautiously for a moment before replying, “that’s right…And you’re the woman that called me, I think. I assume you’re Ophelia?”

“Oh goodness! Where are my manners? That’s right. I’m Ophelia Lancaster. And my husband is-”

“And I’m Benjamin!” A man appeared out of nowhere, similarly to his wife and Sophie nearly tumbled out of her chair in shock.

“Benjamin Lancaster! Control yourself! You know some people aren’t used to Kerens…Oh. Oh dear.” The woman, Ophelia, turned an apologetic gaze towards her. “I’m very sorry for earlier. It seems I forgot to slow down when I greeted you.” Her voice dropped until Sophie could barely hear her words. “That must have been why she was so cautious.”

What the fuck is wrong with these people!? They’re crazy! Is it too late to get out? She started to say something but Benjamin interrupted her as he responded to his wife’s chastisement. She sat there, mouth open like a fish before slamming it shut.

If they weren’t giving her an opportunity to speak, she’d take the time to properly observe them considering they were no longer moving around at speeds too fast for her to follow.

Sophie first focused on Ophelia. Although she’d never met one, Ophelia was clearly part of a corporation. Every part of her appearance, from her hair to her clothes, said as much though there was nothing that pointed towards which corp she worked for.

Yet it was that feeling that brought such great confusion to Sophie. The woman had dull pink hair, already an odd choice, cut in a sharp, asymmetrical bob that framed her face clearly. Contrasting her hair was a pair of sparkly blue eyes.

Sophie could tell that the appearance was due to cyberware. They were unnaturally bright, enhanced further by the faint glow of cosmetic chrome embedded at the corners of her eyes, along her cheekbones and on her temples.

Her lips were painted with a soft mauve colour and even as she chastised Benjamin, Sophie could see how…friendly her face was. What confused her was how sincere the friendliness seemed, especially after nearly being crushed to death. She expected dishonesty or false facades from corpos, not true kindness. She moved past the oddities, continuing to examine the overly friendly ye violent woman.

Following the subtle lines of her jawline were small lines of shiny pink chrome that flowed down her face and over neck before disappearing beneath her clothes.

Her outfit itself was odd too. Sophie wasn’t sure whether her idea of a corpo woman was distinctly wrong or whether Ophelia was an oddity. She wore a navy blue blouse that slightly hugged her figure without being overly sexual. Tight-fitting black and grey jeans paired with boots of matching navy and black tones completed the look. It gave off a conflicting feel considering it looked both expensive and cheap at the same time.

The boots weren’t tall, just enough to provide a boost to her stature. As she moved, There were no visible signs of cyberware beyond her face but Sophie knew that was completely false. The woman had a Kerenzikov, at the very least and likely some kind of strength boost considering how crushing her hug was. Despite how different Ophelia looked though, from Sophie’s vision of a proper corpo, the woman carried herself with grace.

Sophie’s attention shifted to Benjamin, a man who seemed just as, if not more odd than his wife. He had wild silver hair that framed a face almost disarming in its childlike softness. She realised then, that it was an almost motherly feel she got from Ophelia, rather than general friendliness.

But once again, it just made the pair seem even weirder because Benjamin's face, despite the childishness, was clearly that of an adult man. A neatly trimmed silver beard and moustache framed his mouth that was currently set in a sheepish grin as his wife…pulled on his cheeks? She ignored the strangeness once again, eyes scanning his other facial features.

His pale blue eyes, bright and curious like a child’s, sparkled with an almost infectious cheer, as if they saw the world in a different manner than everyone else. The intricate silver filigree chrome near his eyes shimmered faintly, stretching across his face like tree roots and down his neck, just like his wife.

Compared to Ophelia’s clothes, Benjamin’s attire seemed like that of a retiree who preferred to spend their time on a golf course. He wore a casual cotton shirt, its light fabric untucked and slightly wrinkled, the soft grey tones pairing well with the silver of his hair and beard. His jeans, a near match to Ophelia’s, were similarly tight-fitting but bore the faintest scuffs, as though he didn’t really care about looking presentable.

The black combat boots he wore were an unexpected choice, their sturdy, utilitarian design clashing with the rest of his outfit. For some reason though, the boots allowed her to imagine him in full combat gear. Admittedly, she wouldn’t have found it particularly surprising if he was ex-military, considering the Kerenzikov. She realised the thought also applied to Ophelia, though the woman hid it better.

Sophie was snapped out of her observations when the couple began making out passionately, apparently forgetting she was there after finishing their argument. Her face darkened.

“Oi. Lovebirds. I’m starting to get real fuckin’ pissed off. Will one of you please tell me what the fuck is going on?” Sophie practically snarled the words and the couple froze.