War receipts. They are a semi-plastic metallic 'receipt' which each recount a life lost, and they have the badge of the fallen officer embedded within. Engraved is something the fallen was known for, or something important to them, listed similar to items purchased at a grocery store. And at the bottom is the one responsible for the loss of their life, listed as the price. In this case, the price came as a shock to both myself and all my newfound friends. A new turning point has opened up for me, I didn’t foresee this one. If I’m being honest.. It scares me.
…
I think I just slept. I don’t remember much from the past eight hours. Now that I think about it, I haven’t done that before, you know, sleeping. I’ve been sedated or put out of consciousness before, but I’ve never done it naturally. It feels so freeing, like I just gained a bunch of energy, feels easier to move, easier to breathe…
“Morning. You slept 15 hours, man. You missed breakfast, but don’t worry I’m the best. I saved you a hash brown.” Teased a familiar voice. I smelled something fresh and warm.. It’s like mashed potatoes but it has crispy edges. “Do I have to feed you it, or can you just use that power of yours? The one you stood up with,” Balor asked kindly, holding the hash brown in a napkin.
Cut— Cut, cut. That look on his face, It’s not genuine. He has an ulterior motive feeding me this hash brown. I recoiled from him, “How do you know about my power..?”
“Well, things were moving around you in your sleep. It was pretty freaky, you and anything we placed near you moved up and down in the air with your breathing.” Balor stifled a laugh, “Gira brought a truck tire in here and you moved that too.”
“I-I suppose.” I said in defeat, as I stuck my tongue out and slowly curled it back. The hash brown slid out of his hand and into my mouth. I faced away from him slightly as I ate it; I hate when people watch me eat. But I could feel him watching my jaws move, my lips, my tongue. A heinous gaze, as if he were analyzing me. I knew what those signals in his mind meant. Most of them were hidden though, unlike most people who I can read like a book. It’s like he’s letting me see bits and pieces, like he has control over me. I swallow my food. “Balor. Who are you?” I asked stiffly.
“I’m Balor, the scourge’s one and only intel guy. I know a lot of people and a lot of places, so I’m the guy who tells Gira and Kiara what they need to know. Not too bad, right?” He explained calmly, “And really, loosen up. I’ve been told my voice is scary but that’s all it is, I swear.”
The feeling I had, it’s not fading despite his reassurance. Maybe it really is just all in my head. But my gut tells me no. I’m nervous and in shock, I know. Going outside, meeting all these new people. I can’t possibly know enough to not trust someone when I’ve known him for not even a day. But-
“Thanks for the food. What was that called? A hash brown? It’s kind of like mashed potato breakfast, but more chewy.” I asked lightheartedly. Why did those words come out of my mouth? It’s like I said that on autopilot. That hasn’t happened before, is that normal? To just say words without planning it?
“A hash brown is made from shredded potatoes, washed in cold water, then fried with butter.” He explained casually, as if it were so totally normal to ask a question like that. While eating the hash brown I suddenly felt metal binding up against my teeth. My head jerked down and I reflexively spat it out and gagged. What was that? Balor is looking where I spat. “Yikes. My bad, I had something else in my hand, you must have taken that too. I guess that power of yours isn’t too precise is it?” He observed, picking out a red card from the pieces of hash brown and wiping it off on my shin plate. He held the card to my visor. “Hey bud, can you see this?”
“I can. It’s a synthetic metal card with words engraved into it.” I answered.
“Deacon Hysmith, deceased August 2nd 2308. Killjoy executive. Time of death, 2:31am. Place of death, Pall Street, District 9. Cause of death, blood loss. And a quote too,” Balor cleared his throat, “When life gets rough, let it polish you until the diamond underneath shines as bright as your unyielding soul.” He recited, pausing a few seconds to look at me. “The price, Demi Gira.”
“What does any of that mean..?” I stammer slightly.
“It means this executive was attacked on August 2nd at 2:31am and died of blood loss, all in our territory no less. Over 50 others fell all the same. And Killjoy is blaming us for it.” He explains, pulling the card away from my face and lodging it between my collarbone and my magnetic chestplate.
“But we didn’t do that did we..?” I ask half-rhetorically.
“Hard to say. I mean, you were passed out in a canal and everyone else was passed out when it happened. So who really could have done it?” Balor theorized, his voice bitter, trying so desperately to stay calm under the pressure of his own friend being blamed for the death of so many.
“It’s three in the morning, Balor. Why are you up?” Demi grogged out, leaning on the doorframe of the patient room. “Gonna wake Shula up with food that good-…” He trailed off, his jaw shaking for a moment before slamming shut. He stomped over to Balor and snatched the card from his hand, scanning it intensely. “What the fuck is this? I didn’t see any corpses on Pall street,”
“You haven’t been to Pall street in a while, Gira. We’ve been roaming. Somehow, between now and then.. 57 killjoy operatives, all brutally murdered in our well-known territory.” Balor stated gravely.
“Demi- What’s Killjoy?” I interrupted.
He inhaled deeply, swallowing his fury. He knelt down in front of me and sat, cross legged, hand planted firmly on my shoulder, slanted green eyes glaring into my visor. “Tedd. Killjoy is the most powerful criminal organization in all of Deca Machina. They could outgun Ferrum’s forces if they went to war. We’ve been in a stalemate for seven years, because the Scourge comprises 60% of the city’s population. A war with them is very, very bad. Do you understand what I’m saying?” He told me sternly, tightening his grip on my shoulder.
“I- I do. Killjoy is a powerful enemy, they have technology on par with Ferrum, and they have enough firepower to wipe out the majority of Deca Machina’s population. A-and they just declared war on you.” I stuttered.
Demi looked up at Balor, and Balor looked down at Demi, returning the same look. “Gira, I’ll go and keep watch outside. I’ll contact you via mindwire if I see anything. Keep Shula and Tedd safe for me, alright? I have a feeling this kid’s gonna need a lot of attention if we wanna keep him around. He’s clueless.” Balor slandered, with such an understanding to his pointed words. I could tell no one but me was seeing his true intention. It stung. Balor faded from my view within seconds as he left the building, door swinging shut with a chime and a gentle clack.
“I’ve gotta say, Tedd. You picked a shitty time to come to Deca Machina.” Grumbled Demi, before he shuffled out of the patient room and into the seating area. I could feel the rubbing of metal, the compression of springs, the loading of explosive cartridges. That was Demi’s M1911, I believe. I’m not so naive that I don't know what a gun is, it’s a tool for ending lives.
Kiara’s familiar petite figure with quiet steps enters the room. Her hair is shaped differently, bunched up using a plastic double-clawed device which uses a tensioned piece of metal to lock it in place. A hair clip, I believe. Still, I recognize her because she’s the prey. “Gira, I got the news,” said Kiara. She held a piece of paper in her hand with ink stained into it. This is a paper document– Not used since 2002, over 300 years ago. I know because Doctor Brighton told me, he supposedly has the last existing paper document. “Kiara, what’s that? I thought those didn’t exist anymore.” I ask while pointing at her vaguely.
She replied with a cross look. “Not the time for humour. Elaborate.”
“The paper documents in your hand. They have many inefficiencies, not limited to how easily they decay and rip, I hope nothing important is on there-”
“Alright Tedd. I’m not in the mood to explain things right now. Killjoy can track anything with a digital presence.” She stressed. Demi nodded in reply and held his hand out, and on command Kiara handed him the papers. He tucked his head down and studied them intensely. “The warehouse? That’s the only spot on the map you didn’t find them crawling on the cameras? Seems too good to be true, they know all our other hiding spots, even the basement of that laundromat.”
“Gira, I saw a squad of eleven on this street. They know where we are, they’re coming armed. It’s either we leave now, or the Scourge sees its last day today.
Demi dropped the maps and swept his hands over his face. He’s touching his face in response to a stressful situation. Maybe that’s his stress habit. Like how I forget where I am or what I’m doing. “Guys!” Demi shouted out loud, his voice booming through the building. The Scourge rounded up near him within the minute. Balor, Claive, Kiara, Ava, and Shula, standing at ready, expressions serious as stone. Not even Balor or Claive had their usual blank expression on. I was definitely wrong about who was in charge- It’s Demi Gira, no question about it.
“We’re heading to the old Barnum Auto refurbishing warehouse. Load your guns and follow me. Eleven Killjoy operatives are hot on our trail. Tedd, this part is for you. Listen.” Demi ordered, and I stared straight at him. “Listening. I promise.” I assured him, and he nearly cut me off. “Don’t slow us down. We won’t come back for you if you can’t keep up. So keep up.” He commanded in a half growl, face an inch from mine- You know just to make sure I heard it. That irritated me, I’m not sure why. I got commanded to do things all the time in the Sky. But this seemed over the top. I’d want to keep up whether he told me to or not. “I’m not stupid, Demi.” I muttered.
…
He hit me. Ava is holding Shula’s wrist, she looks like she’s about to kill him. Demi is glaring at me. He turned away and left the building through the back door. He held it open as everyone else filed out behind him, and he left last, not even stopping for me. My feet started moving faster than they ever had before, I felt them cramping because I’ve never moved like this. Quickly. My restraints feel like they are piercing my skin with each heavy step, my body leaving the ground for brief moments.
Running.
By the time I caught up with them, they were all crouching, and weren’t making a sound. I tried to be as quiet as I could, but each step of mine was loud. I’m encased in metal, weighing me down. “Demi.” I whisper. He didn’t hear me. I weaved through Shula and Balor, and got right next to him, crouching while I moved forward just like them. To fit in. “Demi.” I called again, raising my voice slightly.
“Shut up. Don’t make a sound.” he hissed to me, and held up a hand. Everyone else stopped. We’re behind a large structure, a jersey barrier I believe. It’s made of composite material, a man-made rock called “cement.” It’s old, not nearly as durable as the FCM series, but it’s impressive for primitive technology. On the other side are eleven people all carrying large guns, I believe they are the Killjoy operatives. I understand why he hit me now, and why he told me to shut up.
Demi points to a large building ahead of us. Barnum’s logo is half broken off, but I recognize it. “When they leave, we move in.” Demi whispered, pointing to the group and then pointing to the warehouse. The Scourge nods in unison, aside from me who nodded half a second after the rest. I wonder if they think that’s weird, nodding so late in?
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The heads and shoulders faded from view, and I couldn’t hear their footsteps. Demi spoke up, “Alright, the-” “Wait.” Balor cut him off, before turning his whole body to face me. “Tedd. Is the coast clear?”
This has to be the most jarring thing I’ve ever heard. He knows about my power, he doesn’t trust me, he views me as some kind of– nevermind. And he’s trusting me with not only his safety but the scourge?
“Balor.” Demi growled, before gripping his shoulder, nails digging in as he forcefully pulled Balor to face him. “Fall the fuck in line.” He ordered whilst glaring into his eyes.
Balor’s eyes narrowed slightly, I could feel something terrifying rising in him, like Demi was about to die where he stood. Balor shook him off and swatted his hand. “Lead the way then.” He replied shortly, glaring right back at Demi. Begging to give him a reason to put him into the floor right here.
Kiara stormed over, teeth gritting as she turned her head between the two. She jammed between them and pushed them both away. “We don’t have time for you two to butt heads. Come on. I scouted ahead, the warehouse is clear and that squad from earlier is headed away.”
I stare at the warehouse. The door is clearly closed- the latch is settled into the closed position and holding the door shut. Why does it feel open? No, this is the time to trust them. I’ve been trying to trust myself, and really where does that lead me? My feet are moving one after another again, subconsciously. The door draws near. Claive goes in first and holds the door open from the inside. I feel like we aren’t alone now that the door is open. Like a monster breathing down my neck, I feel the structure daring me to enter. The scourge all stepped in before me, leaving Claive to stare at me with impatience, and slowly back off as if to shut the door on me.
This was my chance to quit while I’m ahead.
…
My memory becomes foggy, like a turning point is approaching. I won’t lie to you and say I can’t feel the grim reaper’s cold bony hands wrapping around my throat. Impending doom is the only apt descriptor I can think of.
…
I’ve had my second to think it over, though. I’m not too far in to give up and go back to them. I just don’t want to. My feet carry me through the door and past Claive.
“What took you so long to walk through?” Claive asked as he walked up alongside me and let the door fall closed behind him. “I-” he cut me off in a low tone before I could say a word. “You can tell something is off too, can’t you?”
My head slowly turned, and I stopped inside the lobby before we followed the rest of the group into the main storage area. “But I thought I was just overthinking it? You guys have this all planned out, r-right?” I stammer, as I began to lose confidence in my own self doubt.
Claive’s arm suddenly pressed into my chest as he guided us both into a wall with a quiet pace. My ear against the wall now, I heard it all. The progenitor is angered, as he speaks to the soldier before him. “Repeat it back to me now.”
The soldier cleared his throat, speaking through a voice modulator. Not even I could discern an identity from a voice like that. Male? Female? Human? “Step one. Wait for the scourge to come within view. Step two. Tell the guards stationed outside to relocate behind the building.” My heartbeat.. it’s faster. I can see his helmet. Black with an emblem of a robot with a top hat on the side, lit up by a green LED. Lens so dark I can’t see his eyes. “Step three. Wait for the scourge to enter the lobby, then come back and meet you. Step four. Wait for your signal to attack. Step five, incapacitate all of them, and kill one if possible. My life is expendable in this scenario.”
Pump, pump, pump, pump. I can feel my blood pressure rising. My veins want to explode. I’m not listening at the wall anymore, my body followed Claive into the warehouse on autopilot. The signal- What was the signal?
The subtle chime of a coin landing on the ground. “EVERYBODY RUN!” I screamed out at the top of my lungs, holding my arms out as if to protect something. But my voice was drowned out by a deafening ring. A concussion grenade. Demi is next to me, locking arms with the Soldier. He comes crashing down, and the Soldier’s rifle bashes across his head. When he hits the ground, I hear a quiet crack over the ringing in my ears, and a muffled scream. A small figure drops down from above, the Soldier staggers backwards. He holds the rifle in front of his neck, while Kiara, mounted on his shoulders, wrenches a seven inch blade towards his neck with a rage I’ve never seen from one so quiet. Claive’s Beretta rose up and aimed dead on, but the Soldier was a step ahead. Took a bullet through the chest, and threw Kiara overhead. She took a bullet through her back, and landed roughly on the ground.
Why is Balor so still? He has a gun too, right-
Claive dashed to the side as the Soldier’s rifle rose, and he closed in, taking steady strides and shooting. Claive maneuvered between the storage bunks, bullets grazing his arms. Yet unlike the others, he seems so focused, why?-
Behind the soldier, a long pipe crashed into the side of his head, with a bloodthirsty Shula on the other end. The soldier staggered- or I thought so, until a blade emerged from under his barrel and he impaled Shula’s collar with it, and as if on instinct, charged forward and bashed Shula onto Ava who was close behind with a chain. Probably planning to stun and strangle him. The two came crashing down, but as he’s preoccupied I finally understand why Claive was so calm.
Laying bleeding on the ground, he had the perfect angle. A streaking silver bullet flew through the Soldier’s skull.. and he fell. It was over. Just like that. I know why Balor is still as well. He was the first one to be shot, he was so close I never noticed.
Rippling waves of anxiety, intense pain flood through my body as the realization hits. All of the Scourge is downed. All of them. I am the only one left.
Except the progenitor, poised high above me, leaning on the guard post of an upper storage bunk.
The bunk lights shot on, illuminating the progenitor in a grand spotlight.
Jet black hair sharp like a razor, parted away from his eyes, the picture he sees is clearer than mine. A black fedora, tipped just above the brow line so his expression can be seen. Black suit wrapped snugly around his top, framing in his pale face, and the piercing glare in his dark eyes. Brown tailored fabric lines his legs.
The progenitor stopped speaking to me a couple seconds ago. Is he waiting for me to respond? As I tilt my head up to face him like he’s God, I wonder, what do I even say?
“I have a tendency to leave people speechless, but well.. not like this.” He finally said, dropping his raised arms and letting his hands drop into his suit pockets. Was that a joke? Did he just make a joke after nearly killing- causing the death of these people?
I fall into more silence. I can’t speak. 10 seconds? 20, 30? Is he testing me right now? “You know, they’re bleeding out. Personally I don’t mind if they die as long as he gets to see it happen. Chin up, Demi Gira!” The progenitor called out.
“I’m going to rip out your eyes and force-feed them down your fucking throat, Kaito.” Demi croaked. I can feel the adrenaline rushing through his body, numbing the pain. He began to stand, pushing off with his hands and sprinting at Kaito.
“Stay down, you putrid animal.” Kaito, the progenitor, commanded. Three shots rang out in quick succession, and Demi’s knees shattered with loud cracks. He fell to the ground yowling in bitter agony, clawing at the floor with his nails. Murderous rage burned in his eyes. I couldn’t hear my own thoughts over his screaming. All I could see now, the smoke rising from Kaito’s six shooter and the clink of the empty shells as they bounced onto the ground floor.
His eyes turn their attention back to me. “I’ve had my fill. I’ll let his pain play in the ambience for now, but you, really who are you?” He questioned me once more. I don’t know what to do, I’ve never been in this situation before. Should I be angry? Sad? Should I be scared? Should I just shut everything off?
A shock rippled through my right chest plate as a .44 round smashed against it. I stumble back a step, and his full well-dressed figure comes into full focus again. “There, that should wake you up. Come on, you’re basically edging me here. You’re ruining my moment, seeing the scourge suffer in front of me is a pretty big deal. You know who these guys are, right?” Kaito condescends to me. He squats with his arms resting on his knees. I can’t go any longer without answering him.
“I-I’m I am the Owl. I bleed, I cry, and I laugh. I’m more like you than you- No not you, you’re different, you aren’t really smiling right now, no, you are- you’re-” I stammer.
“T-T-Today, junior! No, seriously.” Kaito waved his six shooter at me, “Speak up. I can’t tell what the fuck you’re saying.” He said bluntly. For some reason I didn’t feel a sharp edge to these words. Odd.
A sensation of euphoric relief washes through me, as I realize I have control of the situation. He's approaching me with curiosity, cautious because he doesn’t know me. That means I have the right- the option to be angry. I have every right. He isn’t approaching me with knowledge of who and what I am. We stand on equal ground here. He’s just another guy. I’m just a stranger. This entire world is a stranger. I have the right to feel now, the right to exist as myself.
My arm rose up toward him, plates and all. “I am…
Dihydrogen Oxide. It’s an oxidation reaction. Which means it’s a form of combustion. Isn’t it funny that you can make water out of fire?”
I ask, as the air becomes warmer. The sun shining through the window is what it must be, he would be thinking about now.
The tips of my light brown hair levitated in the breeze, droplets of condensation forming around the strands.
“No shit, we used hydrogen fuel up until around 8 years ago when Mindcloud services came up and running. I’m guessing that means you aren’t friends with these people, are you?” He asked, narrowing his eyes. He’d been thrown off.
“It doesn’t take much heat to ignite either. I wonder what a hydrogen explosion would look like? If you filled a whole room with hyper compressed hydrogen, then just set it all off at once?” I ponder, as loss of conscience sets in. I lose awareness of my body, as the hydrogen concentration in the air around me becomes my sole focus. I become hydrogen. I become the electrons bouncing between particles, I become the movement, the heat.
A stray signal came through, unaccounted for. A warning. I felt rapid movement in the air as a figure the size of an adult male descended, and moved rapidly towards me. Likely heading for the exit. His blood was pumping at unsafe speeds, likely adrenaline.
“I am Full Conscience.” The only thing I know and will ever know about myself, is that I am the accumulation of everything I do, know, think, and say.
The sizzling flames rush through the warehouse, oxidizing the welds holding it together like acid eating through skin. The top of the warehouse shot off, shattering into sections of rust-torn metal. The foundation walls cracked, large chunks of dusty concrete and rusted-through rebar crumbling and crashing down. Heartbeats of killjoy operatives surrounding the warehouse ceased as fast as they had spiked. A mushrooming cloud of rust, concrete particles and steam billowed above me. The floor was cracked through, and below me was reduced to gravel. All that remained were the Scourge, and miraculously, Kaito.
All of them conscious, staring at me as I held out my arm, and my levitating hand slowly fell back to my side. And then it faded. I had so much awareness, so much purpose, and now I forget. What does any of it mean?
…
Why do I still feel like I’m in the midst of my own death? This should be the end of the turning point. According to my memory, I’m safe now. So what is this electrifying cold flowing through me, making my whole body shiver with fear?
…
A quiet laughter broke the quiet of the settling dust, and the groans of my dying friends around me. “Haha, aha. So. I think we got off on the wrong foot.” Began Kaito. I heard a metallic click. And footsteps. Why is he coming closer? I nearly killed him, and everyone protecting him is dead. “That murderous tone in your voice, that condescending, you REALLY wanted me dead. Yet I’m standing here, alive.” He stated. The cold metal point of his barrel presses into the back of my head, and I can’t move. “I didn’t want to kill you.” I muttered, my breath shaking. I bit my lip.
“You don’t want to kill me? What about rip my arm off, cut me, not even a scratch?” He taunted. The barrel presses in harder– it hurts. My skin is almost breaking. “I’m not like you, K-kaito.” I stutter. The trigger presses in half way with a light click. “No. Unlike you, I follow through on my intentions.” He spoke coldly into my ear. The trigger pressed in all the way, and nothing came out. The barrel only spun. “But unlike you, I’m not a monster. I’m a human being, and I won’t hurt people unless they give me reason.” He grabbed my hair firmly and turned my head to face the corpse of a killjoy operative, half buried under a collapsed wall.
“Unlike you. You may cry, think, bleed, and laugh just like us. But you are not human.”
And just like that, his footsteps move away. His soul so crushed he didn’t even have the energy to shoot me right there. Or does he understand my situation, and not want to? I don’t understand him. What did he mean?
…
So that’s what it was. The life or death situation here was never a high octane battle between my power and theirs. It was in the aftermath. Kaito outplayed me and held my life in his hands before my eyes. And he chose to let me keep it.