Chapter 14: When Pigs Fly
Aklion stood outside the sleek, cold transport, his body rigid as the weight of the INPAXX injector rested in his palm. His hands were unusually steady for the first time in weeks. He hadn’t touched this poison since he left the fight, but now, here it was—back to being the conglomerate’s pawn, back to injecting the drug that killed everything inside him, from empathy to pain.
“Last chance, Aklion,” the familiar voice of SYNTHIA cut through the air, dripping with artificial neutrality. “Are you sure you want to delay this?”
He didn’t answer. He pressed the injector to his neck, feeling the familiar cold bite of the needle puncture his skin. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the wave hit—a tsunami of numbness, the rush of chemical clarity flooding his mind. It felt like drowning and breathing all at once. His HUD flickered to life, stats rolling in like a long-lost lover:
[INPAXX Injection - Concentration 120%]
•Strength: +10
•Perception: +8
•Dexterity: +7
•Vitality: +12
•Agility: +6
•Emotional Quotient: -25
•Glitch Tolerance: -15
“Welcome back, Commander,” SYNTHIA said, her voice smoother now, dripping with satisfaction.
His vision sharpened as the world tilted and settled into cold, clear focus. Every nerve in his body was alight, not with pain, but with perfect control. Aklion cracked his neck, feeling the bone pop with exaggerated precision.
“Let’s go,” he growled. The old voice was back. Dark. Gritty. No warmth. The voice of a soldier with nothing left to lose.
[Quest Initiated: Return to Action in NEOTROY]
The transport hummed as they flew towards the destination, but inside, Aklion was spiraling. Not that he’d ever admit it. The INPAXX was doing its job, but this time something was off. The glitch, which he’d been suppressing, had other plans. Images flickered in the corners of his vision—images that didn’t belong.
A field. His field. Asphodel Farm.
[Asphodel Farm - Level 2]
•Crops Harvested: 47%
•Chicken Coop Status: DEFCON 1 (chickens on warpath)
•Plowing: Incomplete (requires 5 strength points or a +2 shovel)
The absurdity of the stats made him chuckle, but it was the hollow kind—the kind that hurts worse than screaming. He saw himself in that field, not a soldier but a farmer, covered in dirt, struggling to catch eggs from angry chickens. It was pathetic. Laughable.
“Fucking chickens,” Aklion muttered. The chickens in his memory hissed and pecked, flapping their wings like miniature demons. [Chicken Attack! - Damage: -2 Vitality]. He saw himself stumbling, defeated by poultry, desperately trying to play the farmer. And failing miserably.
But the farm blurred away, and he was back in battle—no, a battle. A bloodbath. Greeks and Persians clashing in the dust. Not his fight, not his time, but the glitch dragged him there anyway. Aklion floated like a ghost above the battlefield, watching as warriors slashed and screamed beneath him. Blood soaked the earth.
[Battle of Marathon]
•Greeks: +100 Strength, +25 Willpower, +10 Morale Boost (Due to Ares’ Blessing)
•Persians: +150 Agility, -50 Morale (Cursed by Apollo)
He didn’t belong here. None of it made sense, but sense had long ago left his life. He watched, helpless and detached, as soldiers cleaved each other in half. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw them—his soldiers. His kills. Each face he’d seen, each life he’d taken… they were all there, staring at him.
“Aklion,” one said, stepping through the battle, his chest a mangled wreck of gunshot wounds. “You remember this, don’t you?”
[Glitch Detected - ERROR 404: MEMORY NOT FOUND]
“I don’t… I don’t know who you are.”
“You should,” the corpse rasped. “You sent me to Hades. You sent all of us.” The battlefield twisted, growing darker, until Aklion found himself standing on the edge of a great pit—Hades itself. Souls clawed at the edges, screaming for justice. And among them was Vectora.
She stood at the pit’s edge, cradling something in her arms. Aklion’s heart, cold and dead as it had become, tightened.
“No,” he breathed, taking a step back. “No, no, no.”
Vectora lifted her head, eyes hollow, haunted. In her arms was a child—a baby swaddled in cloth. His child. Aklion felt the weight of the world crash into him.
“You’re too late,” she whispered, her voice broken.
[Emotional Stability - Critical Failure]
[INPAXX Concentration: 140% - Emotional Suppression Overridden by Glitch]
The glitch laughed. He could hear it, a cruel echoing thing inside his head.
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Then the farm flickered back—Asphodel, but not the same. The fields were blackened, the crops dead. The farm was burning. The gods stood over it, grinning like maniacs, hurling fire and lightning as they reduced his world to ash. He tried to scream, but no sound came out.
“Fucking hell, SYNTHIA!” His voice cut through the hallucination like a blade.
“Waking you up now, Commander.”
[Waking Sequence Initiated…]
The glitch faded, the gods and burning fields evaporating like smoke as the transport shuddered and his HUD blinked alive again. He was back. For better or worse, he was back.
“Arrival in 5 minutes,” SYNTHIA’s voice came through, smooth and cold. “Destination: NEOTROY.”
Aklion blinked, the INPAXX haze lifting just enough for him to see reality again. He couldn’t escape what was coming. He injected himself back into this war, this nightmare. The INPAXX may have stripped him of his ability to feel, but it couldn’t strip him of his memories. He saw the blood. He saw the farm. He saw Vectora, pleading with him. And for what? So he could fight another pointless war? So he could live just long enough to betray everyone again?
[Mission Update: Serve or She Dies]
It was simple. The conglomerate didn’t mince words. Fight for them, or watch her and the child disappear. He clenched his fists, feeling the INPAXX buzzing under his skin like an infection.
SYNTHIA’s voice cut through the darkness, “Welcome back, Commander.”
Aklion straightened. The war was on. Again.
[Mission Objective: Comply with ZEUS]
•Reward: 10,000 XP
•Failure: Execution of Hostage (Vectora and unborn child)
He didn’t have a choice. He never had a choice.
“Let’s fucking do this,” Aklion muttered, feeling the weight of the world settle back on his shoulders.
Chapter 15: Biting Bullets
Aklion exhaled slowly, his breath fogging the visor of his helmet. The old, suffocating feeling of the INPAXX was back in full force, crawling under his skin like a parasite. His first mission back. The same bleak purpose. The same nightmare cycle. Kill or be killed. He had to force down the bile rising in his throat at the thought of killing more rebels—people like Vectora.
“Commander Aklion,” SYNTHIA’s smooth, detached voice filtered into his earpiece, “Mission parameters are clear. Target: Rebel Unit Epsilon. Kill on sight.”
His HUD lit up with details about the unit, stats flashing in front of his eyes:
[Target: Rebel Unit Epsilon]
•Strength: +12
•Agility: +10
•Stealth: +8
The numbers almost seemed laughable now. He knew the real people behind those numbers were not numbers at all—they were flesh and blood, just like the young girl he had executed without a second thought so long ago.
“Fuck,” he whispered to himself, rubbing a hand over his face.
He had to think of a way out of this. He couldn’t just keep killing, couldn’t keep being the tool they molded him into. Vectora’s face flashed in his mind again—her and their baby. He needed to find a solution, fast.
“Commander, it’s time,” SYNTHIA reminded him, her voice steady and unwavering.
[New Quest: Eliminate Rebel Unit Epsilon]
•Objective: Kill all members of Rebel Unit Epsilon
•Reward: 12,000 XP
•Failure: Termination of Hostages (Vectora and unborn child)
“Fuck. Fucking hell.” He wanted to punch something, anything, but there wasn’t time. He needed to find another way. Knock them out. Make it look convincing. But the INPAXX coursing through his veins was already twisting his perception, ramping up his aggression, his bloodlust. He had to fight that, too.
[INPAXX Overload Detected]
•Emotional Stability: -30
•Combat Efficiency: +20
•Glitch Tolerance: -10
He landed with a thud, the impact of his boots on the ground reverberating through his legs. Rebel Unit Epsilon was spread out ahead, taking positions along a defensive perimeter. His fingers twitched, every muscle in his body ready to unleash hell.
But he had a plan. Kind of. Knock them unconscious, simulate glitches on SYNTHIA to make it seem like the kills didn’t register.
His first target, a rebel hiding behind a makeshift barricade, had no idea what was coming. Aklion moved like a shadow, creeping up and delivering a swift blow to the back of the man’s head, knocking him out cold.
[Critical Hit - Target Unconscious]
•XP: 0 (non-lethal)
Aklion almost sighed with relief. It was working. He could do this.
One by one, he moved through the ranks, disabling rebels instead of killing them. It was almost peaceful, in a twisted way. No blood. No screams. Just silence as they dropped unconscious.
[SYNTHIA Glitch Simulation Activated]
•Combat Report Error: 404 (kills not registering)
The glitch simulation was working, for now. SYNTHIA was buying the fake data, thinking the kills were going through. But the more rebels he took down, the more his body protested. The INPAXX was burning, clawing at his mind, begging him to unleash his full rage.
Then, something snapped.
He was mid-swing, aiming for the back of another rebel’s head, when the INPAXX took over. The slight hesitation, the gentle restraint he had been forcing on himself—gone. His fist slammed into the rebel’s skull, and the sickening crack echoed in his ears. Blood sprayed across his armor.
[Fatal Hit - Target Killed]
•XP: +200
“No!” Aklion shouted, but his body wasn’t listening anymore. The INPAXX was in control, feeding him the rush, the thrill of the kill. His vision blurred, everything turning red as he ripped through the rebels with brutal efficiency. There was no stopping it now. His hands were soaked in blood, his mind a roaring inferno of violence.
[Combat Efficiency +30]
[Emotional Stability -50]
Rebel after rebel fell before him, torn apart in a whirlwind of rage and blood. He couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to stop. This was who he was, what they made him.
But then he saw him—Ravik, standing at the edge of the clearing, weapon lowered, eyes fixed on Aklion. He didn’t raise his gun. He didn’t try to fight.
“I never fucking trusted you,” Ravik said, his voice dripping with venom.
Aklion’s muscles tensed, ready to strike, but something in Ravik’s eyes made him pause. He wasn’t here to fight. This wasn’t about combat. It was something else. Something deeper.
Aklion took a shaky breath, trying to reel in the INPAXX-induced madness.
“Don’t,” Ravik said, holding up a hand. “You don’t need to do this.”
Aklion’s fist clenched around the handle of his blade. The rage was still there, boiling beneath the surface, but he could stop. Just for a moment. Just long enough to figure out what Ravik was really after.
“I have to kill you,” Aklion said, his voice hollow. “It’s the mission.”
“No, you don’t,” Ravik replied, stepping forward. “You can make it look convincing. Just like you did with the others.”
Aklion hesitated. The INPAXX was screaming at him to kill. To finish it. But something in Ravik’s tone… maybe he could fake it.
“Fine,” Aklion growled. “But you better make it look good.”
He lunged forward, blade drawn, and slashed at Ravik’s chest. Blood sprayed, but not too much. Enough to make it look real, but not enough to be fatal. Ravik staggered back, collapsing to the ground, clutching his wound.
“Is that convincing enough for you, SYNTHIA?” Aklion muttered under his breath, hoping the AI would buy the performance.
[Fatal Hit Registered - Target Eliminated]
•XP: +400
“Commander,” SYNTHIA’s voice crackled, “good work. All targets eliminated. Mission successful.”
Aklion clenched his fists. He had bought himself some time. For now. So he faked a glitch by tampering with the fucking AI connectivity, as he thought.
Ravik coughed, blood seeping between his fingers as he lay on the ground. “You need to look at the data you stole… from the rebels,” he rasped, his voice weak. “There’s… something you missed.”
Aklion frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Ravik grinned, blood staining his teeth. “The data, Aklion. There’s more to it than you think. You’re still a pawn in their game.”
Aklion’s blood ran cold. What had he missed? He thought he’d seen everything.
Before Ravik could say anything else, he collapsed, unconscious but still alive. Aklion’s heart pounded in his chest. He had been trying to avoid killing for so long, and now he was back to square one.
As the transport hovered overhead, preparing for extraction, Aklion couldn’t shake Ravik’s words. What was in that data? What did he miss?
[New Objective: Investigate Rebel Data]
•Priority: High
As SYNTHIA prepared to extract him, Aklion couldn’t shake the feeling that the answers he had been seeking all this time were right under his nose—and that the real war had only just begun.
But first, he had to survive the next mission.