Breachers

Breachers – Path of Steel

10

I

Inequivalent Exchange

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Marcus’s awareness fluttered in the depths of unconsciousness, blending with memories that he didn’t recognize. Amidst the hazy state, he became aware of a subtle weight pressing against his chest, accompanied by a gentle warmth that seeped through his body. Strange sounds, like the soft whir of a machine, echoed in the air, blending with the rhythm of his breath. He basked in the calmness of that moment. There was an ache within him, a longing for that calmness, to abandon the constant struggle for survival and simply let go. Still, something was gnawing at him, telling him to wake up.

 

“We need you, Marcus.”

 

╔                                                         ╗

[System activation: 100%]

╚                                                         ╝

 

With a sudden explosive jolt, Marcus snapped awake, the back of his head colliding with the underbelly of the old vehicle with a loud thud. Confusion swirled inside his mind as his camera lens caught the sight of moss and vines clinging to his frame as if nature itself was embracing him. ‘How long was I out this time? Months? Years?’ he questioned silently. He picked up on the shouting all around him, accompanied by the sound of rushing footsteps. Pushing his hood back, he scanned the gate in front of him, spotting fleeing people dressed in overalls.

 

‘Don’t overthink it,’ Marcus told himself, crawling forward and tearing through the dense overgrowth. Breaking free from beneath the car, he stood upright, shedding dirt, moss, and fragmented vines. His gaze lifted toward the night sky, obscured by ominous thunderclouds, tainted with an eerie light blue hue. Rain showered down in a strange way, coating his optics with droplets that he couldn’t feel. Movement beside him caught his ear, causing him to turn his head in response.

 

Marcus noticed two men sprawled on the ground beside him. They wore overalls and raincoats, their faces drained of color, as if they had just seen a ghost. One of them trembled uncontrollably, his eyes widening as he stared at Marcus. Every now and then, his gaze flickered to Marcus’s right arm, seeing the sharp metal poking out where a hand should be. The three of them remained like that for a moment before Marcus raised a finger to his face where his lips would have been, signaling the men to remain silent. With cautious steps, he made his way toward the gate, gradually picking up the pace until he broke into a jog.

 

As Marcus passed through the open gate, his camera captured the sight of another wall ahead, larger and fortified with imposing barbed fencing. A sense of confusion washed over him as he couldn’t recall this wall being there during his previous times he had been awake. The ground between the walls stretched out, a barren expanse of dirt with no other objects in sight beyond rows of barbwire. In the distance, he spotted more people fleeing the scene, making their way towards the gatehouse, while some of them were suddenly slowing down for some reason.

 

Marcus increased his pace, determined to catch up with the others and blend in with them, or at least try to. Suddenly, he spotted a blue shimmer in his path. Figuring it was just a distortion, he sped up, before crashing into it with full force, abruptly halting his momentum in an instant. It had felt as if he had run into a brick wall. The collision caused further damage to the plastic plating on his body, not to mention rattle him beyond words. ‘What the hell was that!’ he thought as he shook his head before he examined the peculiar, semi-transparent field before him, stretching out as far as he could see. It had been hard to see from a distance, but up close, he now could make out its strange quality, like seeing billions of fragmented blueish crystals floating in mid-air, interweaving constantly.

 

He carefully reached out and pressed his hand against the strange transparent wall, applying gradual pressure and feeling how his hand slowly slid through it. Though it seemed as if he were pushing through a jumble of shattered and floating crystals, it seemed more like moving through a dense, invisible gel until his hand emerged on the other side. Confused, he followed his hand, noticing that the resistance was barely noticeable as long as he moved slowly. Seconds later, the resistance disappeared, causing him to stumble forwards on the other side and momentarily losing his balance.

 

As he struggled to steady himself and maintain his forward motion, he observed that the blue hue had vanished, revealing a normal night sky. Looking back over his shoulder, he saw the thing he had just crossed covering most of the junkyard in a light blue. ‘It’s confined to that huge area?’ Marcus wondered while picking up the pace again and shifting his gaze forward. His camera captured the presence of two guards stationed at the gatehouse, urgently signaling for the fleeing crowd to hurry up.

 

When Marcus noticed the guard on the left, he sensed a mix of confusion and wariness in the man’s expression, unable to fully comprehend Marcus’s unusual appearance as he came closer. The guard raised his left hand to halt Marcus, while his right hand hovered near the gun holstered at his hip. Remembering the fire arrow, Marcus charged forward. Like his father and uncle had taught him, Marcus delivered a powerful punch to the guard’s side, hitting him in the liver. Meanwhile, the second guard scrambled to draw his weapon and managed to fire twice before Marcus closed the distance and took hold of the man’s wrist. What followed was a quick steel knee strike to the guard’s stomach before the man collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath in uncontrollable heaves.

 

Marcus wasted no time and sprinted away from the gate, leaving bewildered workers and the two wounded guards behind him as he rushed to the surrounding neighborhood, intent on disappearing. And as the shouting near the gate picked up again, he began to panic while hoping the two fresh punctures in his torso hadn't struck anything vital.

 

 

- - -

 

 

A while later, Marcus inspected his HUD, taking note of the time that had elapsed. ‘1829 seconds have passed already. So, I’ve already spent about a fourth of my time just reaching this point,’ he pondered, standing atop a tall building a few blocks away from the junkyard after climbing up via the external fire escape. From his elevated vantage point, he watched the junkyard at the outskirts of town. ‘How many months or years did I spend in that hellhole?’ he pondered; his mind plagued by memories of the torment. Shaking off the unsettling thoughts, he redirected his optics toward the north while his steel finger traced circles around the two new holes in his torso.

The city sprawled before him, boasting towering skyscrapers and apartment complexes at its center, while smaller houses dotted the surrounding areas. Noticing a street sign that read ‘Nieuw Haven’ in Dutch with the English translation ‘New Haven’ beneath it, Marcus went over what he had learned, ‘I know I’m in the Netherlands. But I've never come across a city quite like this, and it seems way too big for me to have never heard of it before. So, time has passed, I guess.’

 

Speeding towards a large building in the North were the flashing lights and the blaring sirens of an approaching ambulance. Marcus immediately recognized the familiar colors and was glad that some things were still the same. ‘The hospital,’ he told himself as he connected the building to the unexplainable pull he felt towards that direction. ‘That has to be it. I’m there!’ With a clear path in mind, Marcus made his way off the rooftop, descending using the fire escape before proceeding down the alley.

 

As he walked, his gaze lifted towards the night sky, drawn to the stars and the moon shining in all its glory, no longer tainted by unnatural red or blue hues that had taunted him before. It felt comforting to him to see and experience the world like this again, despite being trapped in his robotic frame. Reaching the end of the alley, he glanced left and right before crossing the street and entering another narrow passage lined with dumpsters and stacks of cardboard.

 

Despite his attempts to muffle the noise, his metal feet still produced an audible sound, despite the socks and dirty fabric he had wrapped around them. ‘I can’t imagine how disastrous this little stroll would’ve been if it happened during the day,’ he mused, picking up the pace. Soon, he arrived at the end of the alley, where a small group of people were walking down the street, occasionally passing around a lit cigarette or a beer. Pausing there, Marcus counted down the seconds, forced to patiently wait for the group to pass.

 

The desire to rush toward the hospital grew stronger with each wasted second. However, Marcus maintained his composure, hiding in the darkness, his eyes fixed on the group as they turned a corner. Seizing the opportunity, he darted forward, swiftly entering the next alley and onto the next one after that. Continuing his path through the city, he chose the alleys and less crowded areas, avoiding encounters with people as much as he could. Each step he took made the hospital seem larger on the horizon, slowly coming into focus as he closed the distance. Eventually, he reached a small hill covered in mowed grass and neatly trimmed bushes, which provided a little cover as he snuck his way upward towards the hospital. From his vantage point, he observed the entrance, where he could see a few individuals entering or leaving the building. ‘Alright... now what?’ Marcus wondered, slowly realizing that he hadn’t really planned this whole thing beyond desire and instinct.

 

He paused for a moment, observing the hustle and bustle of people entering and exiting through the main entrance. Considering his options, his attention eventually shifted to the entrance of an underground parking garage on the right, which appeared more promising. He moved cautiously from bush to bush, swiftly crossing the street, before making his way inside the underground parking garage. He avoided the cameras he could see and the well-lit areas, moving from car to car, slowly progressing towards the end where he spotted an elevator and staircase. Upon opening the door to the staircase, he saw a hospital floor plan on a nearby wall, displaying the different floors. ‘Fourth floor. I think I need to go there,’ he thought, recalling seeing the number four during one of his fragmented memories. Having made up his mind, he then started climbing the stairs.

 

 

- - -

 

 

Marcus slipped on the disposable shoe covers he had snatched from a tray on the third floor, hiding the dirty footprints he had been leaving behind. Despite the route to the fourth floor being straightforward, he had retreated a few times when he had heard someone enter the stairwell. Luckily, he still had some time left when he finally did reach the fourth floor. Moving slowly down the dim hospital hallway, he passed several rooms and spotted the night shift nurses engrossed in their cellphones inside their office.

 

A sign identified this particular floor as the hospital’s coma ward. The weird pull he always felt only grew stronger, as if he were mere moments away from whatever was in here. Stopping near a door, he reached for the handle but froze, his mind burdened by what he might find inside. ‘Don’t overthink it,’ he thought to himself, but remained motionless for a while, recalling the last time he had seen his actual body, buried underneath rubble and dead bodies. It wasn’t until he heard the door to the nurses’ office open that he quickly entered the room and closed the door behind him. When Marcus turned around, he found himself within a dark room, with only the lights emanating from the machines inside the room providing any illumination. He could vaguely make out a bedridden figure in front of him with countless tubes and wires hooked up to it from various directions. The steady hum and rhythmic beeps of the machines filled the room, intertwining with the gentle flow of air emanating from a mask covering the figure’s face.

 

Marcus slowly moved forward, his camera lens fixed upon the figure resting on the bed, struggling to recognize what lay before him. Connected to the machines, he saw his own body with long black hair and a slender frame, a stark contrast to his once athletic physique. What was even stranger was the shimmering effect that covered his body, like a dome of thousands of crystalline shards hovering around him, somewhat similar to what he had seen back in the junkyard. ‘No... How long was I out?’ he wondered as he stared at his own face, inspecting the strange blackish material on the top right side, almost looking like metal claw marks ‘It looks melted or burned into my flesh.’ His gaze then shifted downward, revealing more black marks scattered across his chest and right arm.

‘Alright... here we go,’ he thought, mentally steeling himself before he extended his robotic hand towards his actual body, pushing through the ethereal layer of floating fragments. Like what he had experienced at the junkyard, it felt like passing through a thin layer of gel until he breached it and made contact, although there was far less resistance. The instant he touched his own body, an odd sensation coursed through him. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he could feel something again. The weight of something pressing against his body, the unyielding hardness pushing into him, and the coolness of the metal limb against his skin. ‘I’m alive.’ His steel legs shook beneath him, a sign of the realization sinking in. ‘I’m actually alive!’ Amidst the soft hum of the machines and the steady beeping of his own heartbeat, actually feeling something was the proof he needed. However, unease nagged at him. ‘Now what?’ he wondered, uncertainty clouding his thoughts.

Time passed, but nothing changed. He then let go of his body before gently touching his own eyelid with a steel digit, sliding it upward. His blue eye stared back at him, while simultaneously seeing his own robotic form. Instantly, he recoiled at seeing himself from two points of view. The nauseating feeling gripped him even within his metallic frame. After a few seconds, the discomfort subsided. ‘Fuck that was weird!’ He then tried to shake his body, hoping to wake himself up that way, but nothing happened. ‘Come on, wake up.’ Glancing at his HUD, he noticed his time rapidly depleting, fueling a growing desperation within him as he began to feel himself weakening. ‘Wake up!!!’

 

Panic surged as he frantically scoured the room, desperate to find a way to get back in his body or wake himself up. He nearly dared himself to flick random switches on the machines in the room, but he held himself back. Instead, he leaned down and inspected the largest machine in the room. He spotted a thick metal security box concealed within it, with cables leading to and from it. Soft pulsating light seeped through the small openings, strangely familiar to him. Despite trying to pry it open, the locked box remained locked tight. In his desperation, his hand reached for his damaged backpack, retrieving the pistol he had hidden inside. ‘Will this thing still even work after all this time?’ he wondered, pointing the gun at the lock before hesitating. He realized the repercussions if the gun went off—it would attract security to the location. He cast one final glance at his fragile and emaciated frame lying on the bed, a surge of anger coursing through him as he squeezed the trigger.

 

The pistol discharged with a deafening blast, Marcus’s steel frame enduring the sudden recoil. He attempted a second shot, but frustration set in as the pistol jammed, with him unable to resolve the issue. Reluctantly, he stowed the malfunctioning weapon in his backpack, knowing he lacked the dexterity or the time to fix it. Leaning forward, he inspected the aftermath—the damaged lock now having a hole in the mechanism, providing an opportunity. Carefully, he inserted a steel finger into the compromised lock, exerting pressure. Slowly, he pulled the already weakened mechanism apart and bent the latch, forcing it open. Peering inside, he discovered a tangle of cables, wires and a lot of machinery that he couldn’t make sense of. Attached to it all were five pulsating objects that he had seen before. ‘Monster-Glass? Inside medical equipment?’ he wondered, perplexed by the unexpected discovery.

 

A draining sensation coursed through Marcus as his energy was running out, with his connection to his metallic frame slowly untethering. His mind raced as he watched the five pieces of Glass, trying to come up with a plan before suddenly slamming his hand into the machinery, wrenching the Glass pieces free and triggering an alarm in the process. Moments later he could see the thin layer of thousands fragmented crystals that were hovering around his body dissipating into thin air. ‘Is the Glass linked to... No! Don’t worry about the rest. Focus on getting back in your body!’ he commanded himself as he realized none of this was making sense to him. Placing the five Glass on his comatose body, he expected some sort of reaction, but nothing happened beyond the pulsating glow. ‘Shit… I’m running on empty here,’ he thought, eyeing the disheartening countdown on his HUD.

 

Taking a gamble, he reached into his backpack once more, retrieving the 16 Monster-Glass pieces that he had previously stored there. Placing them alongside the other five in his hand, he observed a minuscule blue spark flickering across the surface of the Glass pieces. Gripping them tightly in his steel fist, the spark intensified, surging across his robotic fingers, almost to the verge of him actually able to feel the coursing energy across his metallic form.

 

‘This is a bad idea,’ he told himself, examining the bundle of Glass in his hand, noting their sharp edges. He glanced at his vulnerable frame lying on the bed, disregarding the blaring alarm in the background and the commotion he was hearing outside. ‘This is a really, really bad idea!’ With the countdown on his HUD ticking away, he held the twenty-one Glass pieces above his body. ‘WAKE UP!’ In a sudden, determined motion, he forcefully slammed them into his actual body, the edges piercing his flesh and striking the strange blackish material in his chest. A small blue flash of energy erupted moments later, expanding briefly before flowing into his comatose body, causing him to back off for a second. The Glass disintegrated in his hand until only one piece remained. He could almost feel the energy flow within his comatose body when his eyelids suddenly snapped open, staring at his steel frame in fear before violent convulsions overtook him.

 

Marcus quickly pressed down against himself, trying to lessen the convulsions and prevent injury. However, the second he did so, a torrent of memories assaulted him, shouting to be recognized. The sensation of knives cutting into his flesh, tubes suffocating him, and injections piercing his skin overwhelmed him. He suddenly remembered being carried and dragged for what felt like days as a familiar voice kept shouting at him. Then he vividly recalled the sheer agony, the feeling of being trapped inside his unresponsive body, tormented by his own senses that were still working. ‘Years!’ he howled in his mind while his convulsing body tried to utter the word itself, but failed.

 

The process forced him to remember every year, every day, every second of his body’s immobility, witness it all without pause as it crashed back into his mind. He could sense the slivers of his consciousness that had endured the Tech-event and how profoundly broken they had gotten because of it all. Those slivers had lived it, had suffered through it, had endured a personal hell for years. Each memory he regained also took something from him, bleeding parts of his mind away and pouring into his actual body. Fear consumed him, a sense of impending doom, uncertain of what would become of the parts of his mind that poured out of him in exchange for more memories. He clung on for as long as he could, mentally hemorrhaging, until he could bear it no more and recoiled, letting go of his actual body.

His movements wavered as he fought to stay upright, staggering backwards with sluggish steps. A haze enveloped his mind, slowing his thoughts to a crawl, as if most of his mind had left him. He observed his convulsing body on the bed, wide-eyed and staring back at him while the commotion outside was getting worse. Marcus quickly stored the single remaining Glass piece in his backpack, then exited the room as fast as he could. He spotted security and screaming nurses at the end of the hallway, their attention drawn to his shrouded and hooded figure. In response, Marcus just sprinted in the opposite direction, his weakened mind acutely aware that the connection binding him to his steel frame was unraveling within seconds.

 

‘Please, let this work!’

 

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Copyright: OsiriumWrites