[Pioneer Dominique Reynolds]

Dokchara had been in a nearly catatonic state, barely cognizant of my presence even when I was trying to pull him up to his feet. I needed to explore the rest of the facility and clear out possible hostiles, but I couldn’t leave him alone in this state and under the risk of being attacked. He’d entered this place with a burning soul, the subject of his hope seemingly right at the tips of his fingers, only to learn that there was nobody out there waiting for him to save them.

I walked through the weakly lit concrete hallways, discovering nothing of great interest. Storage rooms filled with every flavor of caustic solutions, offices detailing the sparse records of the nameless facility’s outside interactions, dreary sleeping quarters and living accommodations. Despite the apparent capacity for employees that the facility featured, we never ran into any opposition.

Dokchara was slowly trudging behind me through all of this, seemingly indifferent to the mundane discoveries we made and trapped in his own thoughts. Oftentimes he would stop in his tracks, face completely devoid of expression. I had to physically jolt him out of his stupor to get him to keep walking.

I myself had not properly registered the things I had seen in that room just yet. After witnessing thousands of people robbed of their existence, not a modicum of hope left to cling onto nor a mind with which to do so, my mind began to lock itself down. Just as I could think much faster than any organic equipment, I could also force myself to process at a sedated rate. There was a dam in my mind with the intent of keeping emotions at bay, but it was slowly forming cracks along its surface. I do not know the nature of what that dam is impeding, nor do I know what will happen when it finally collapses.

While searching through a hallway that featured the railing that ran through some parts of the facility, we came across the processing room. Glass pipes filled with blood swarmed the walls like a crimson web, all converging to a nozzle on the ceiling that was perched over the enormous industrial centrifuge in the center of the room. The combined volume of liquid contained in those vials was enough to fill an olympic pool. We’d come in right before the last vial had been topped off, witnessing the automated procedure enter its final phase. Neither of us moved to stop it from acting out. The blood had already been drawn, its source incapable of even recognizing its absence.

We watched for twenty minutes, simply standing there as the liquids slowly developed a split in color. At the end of the spin cycle, the results were drained and filtered, undergoing various chemical reactions to split out the desired medicine from its accompaniments. A small bottle of glasses, about the same length and width of a human thumb, was filled with a clear liquid and presented to us on a small extending platform, as if to mock us with its existence.

A small voice rang out from beside me, unsure if it was on the brink of laughing or crying.

“I want to be left alone.”

I traced my way back through the halls, the only thing accompanying me being the sounds of my steps echoing around me. The walls waved ahead of me, threatening to twist and bend before collapsing and locking me in. I tried to grab a wall to steady myself and nearly fell face first onto the ground from misjudging the distance. The shadows cast by the dim lights dotting the floors danced on the ceiling, causing me to trip when looking up at them. They looked wrong.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

I climbed back up the shaft and over the elevator platform, receiving a sensory overload once reaching outside. After being in a dim place for so long, the light of the midday sun beaming through the clearing assaulted me before I could readjust my eyes. Organized static beamed into my head from far above, overtaking my sense of hearing and derailing any thoughts I harbored. A message from that sentient.

“Dominique, I’ve been trying to reach you! You’ve been complete-”

So loud.

But that audio static didn’t go away after shutting him out. There was something else, equally loud, begging for my attention.

I was completely surrounded by Grahtonians. They were on the ground, in the trees, on flying vehicles, all armed with heavy weaponry. There was one closer than all the rest, their voice amplified by a device in their hand, yelling words at me that I just couldn’t quite grasp. I want to shut it up.

My hands were around its head in an instant, lifting it up to my height so I could make direct eye contact. It struggled and squirmed, beating on my arms and kicking my chest in pretentious defiance, its eyes conveying a panicked anger. It couldn’t speak anymore, my grasp holding its mouth shut, but it still vocalized growls and grunts. I was vaguely aware of being peppered with bullets, but they seemed to be holding back on the more potent weaponry.

Do you even understand what you are defending?

Has anyone bothered to tell you the cost of your lazy greed?

The Graht’s eyes took on a look of fear, fully realizing the situation that it was in. It’s struggling became more frantic, the punches and kicks coming in higher frequency. It pleaded in desperation, letting out cries like a baby goat would, waving its arms in an attempt to have someone save it. My fingers started to tear into the skin. It tried prying my hands away, unable to get a good grip due to its own blood. My fingers sank deeper, eliciting a slow crunch to sound out. It placed its arms between mine, attempting to slow the process. Like an ant pushing against a mountain. Pushing, pulling, scratching, screaming, and then… collapse. It’s eyes squeezed out, the ears and nose expelling blood that had nowhere else to go. Integrity failed, resistance ceased entirely, the disgusting squelching of spongy meat in a vice. A headless body hangs by its hands, still holding onto my arms.

The entire jungle seemed to stand still for a moment, everyone silently processing what had just happened.

I was already upon another. I swung my arm, separating the head and shoulder from the rest of the body. How could beings so frail inflict so much cruelty? Their heavy weapons couldn’t be turned towards me fast enough, their explosive ordnance not concentrated enough to slow me. I uprooted trees, removing the dwellers from their perches, and used them to ground the flying vehicles. My actions were blurry to me. My mind was still intentionally dulled and my senses were blocked from most input.

I had to stop. My body had taken constant abuse and needed a minute of downtime. There was a smattering of Grahts running away in the distance, but they were inconsequential by now. Liquid pooled all around me, held in puddles by thick tree roots and the saturated mud that was the jungle floor. It flowed in channels to small reservoirs that reached up to my angles which overflowed and spilled thanks to my disturbance. I’d been unknowingly following the streams, leading me back to the entrance of the facility just to see Dokchara emerging from the entrance, leaving behind the now burning hallways and chambers.