Breachers

Breachers – Path of Steel

13

I

Making Memories

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Day 3

 

 

Marcus squeezed the ball of gel tightly, his muscles in his hand straining. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he pushed himself. The physical trainer sat beside him, cheering him on. “Keep going, Marcus! You’re doing great!” the man exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine enthusiasm. With each attempt, Marcus’s grip on the ball grew stronger, though progress came slowly. His fingers trembled as he struggled with his weakened body. “And done.” The man then helped Marcus release the ball before placing it on a tray next to him, along with some rubber bands and other tools to help further his rehabilitation. Marcus’s uncle sat slouched in a chair a short distance away, head tilted against the wall, snoring loudly while occasionally twitching. The trainer glanced at the snoring man, then turned his attention to Marcus, awaiting his response. “Should I wake him up?” he asked.

 

“N... o,” Marcus faltered, grappling with the word before he finally managed to utter it. In response, a grin crept across the trainer's face as he watched the man’s progress. Marcus let out a long breath, ignoring the throbbing in his hand as he shifted his gaze to his sleeping uncle. Listening to his uncle's rhythmic snores, Marcus felt a sense of peace wash over him. After being deprived of familiar sounds, smells and sights for years, the rhythmic snores almost felt like a soothing melody to his ears.

 

After the reunion two days ago, Marcus’s uncle and brother had taken turns watching over him, allowing his sister to return home, take a shower, and get some much-needed rest. Before that, his family had explained a few more things about the current state of the world, or what it had turned into. They had tried to reassure him that things were much safer now, even going so far as saying it had gone back to normal. But Marcus was doubtful of that. ‘Nothing as reassuring as hearing that meteors took out a massive chunk of the world’s population and that I’ve been kept alive in a weird machine that ran on ‘Mana’, or whatever you want to call it,’ Marcus thought, still recalling the absurd things he had been told. His family had hesitantly explained that 13 years ago, the world had been bombarded for days on end by a cascade of small meteors that had come from beyond our solar system. Not a single nation had escaped the cataclysm, or its aftermath. The initial day alone witnessed the loss of millions, and that death toll had continued to climb as more and more problems emerged. As society crumbled under the strain of resource scarcity, flooding, wildfires, and the deadly consequences of widespread Mana exposure, the situation had become even worse.

 

They had tried to steer the conversation to more neutral topics, but Marcus had constantly insisted, or mumbled and drooled as best as he could, forcing them to explain further, including explaining what Mana was. ‘Trying to explain the state of the world and the concept of Mana to someone who had been in a coma for 13 years couldn’t have been easy on them’ Marcus thought, remembering how often his uncle and sister had backtracked on something, only for his brother to pick up where they had left off. Eventually, they had settled on describing Mana as a kind of ‘energy’ found within the meteors—incredibly potent but dangerous for most people to be near to. Marcus learned that this energy also flowed within survivors of meteor impacts, and that it had been the source of his experimental treatment that had sustained him all these years. According to his brother, the total death toll had surpassed a billion people at the end of the first three years. Among the living, a staggering low amount had survived a direct meteor impact, leaving them scarred, transformed, forever altered by the constant presence of Mana coursing through their bodies. Joline had explained that this Mana had left its mark on people, making some individuals faster, stronger, or even more perceptive than before. ‘Even now, what they have told me seems weird... bizarre even.’

 

Marcus shifted his attention back to the balls of gel on the tray, his hand and arm trembling as he attempted to reach for them. However, the trainer subtly moved the tray a little farther away, showing a mischievous grin. “Practice is important, but so is recovery. I’ll be back in a few hours. Until then, nutrition and rest, alright?” he asked, pausing until Marcus finally nodded in agreement. A moment later, his sister walked into the room, now dressed in clean civilian clothes. The sight of his sister, clean and free from blood and dirt, seemed almost strange to him, considering the powerful first impression she had made. Even now, he didn’t know why she had been covered in blood, beyond her saying it wasn’t hers and it was ‘just’ work related.

 

Making her way over to Marcus, she gently squeezed his shoulder while placing a small cactus plant on the tray next to him. “I brought you a little friend, just as stubborn and durable as you,” she playfully teased. A chuckle escaped her lips as she noticed Marcus struggling to make a fist, except for his middle finger. “Charming. It looks like you two have been working hard on the important things.”

 

The trainer took a moment to jot down a few notes on his notepad for the doctor’s approval before responding. “Your brother is exceeding my expectations. It’s rare to see such progress within a few days, even among people like yourselves.” Afterwards he explained to Joline about today’s exercises and provided the schedule for this afternoon and the days ahead. When there were no further questions, the trainer departed, leaving the three of them alone.

 

His sister glanced at her sleeping uncle, her eyes narrowing the louder the man started to snore. “Has he been like this for a while?” she asked, looking back at Marcus for confirmation. Marcus nodded silently. “The entire night?” Another nod from Marcus confirmed her suspicion. With a disapproving click of her tongue, Joline rose from her seat and approached her uncle. She gently squeezed his shoulder, gradually increasing the pressure until the man abruptly woke up, startled.

 

“I’m up! I was merely giving my eyes a break,” the man excused himself, attempting to rise from his chair, but Joline firmly pressed him back into the chair.

 

“So... you were watching over your nephew the whole night then?” she probed, spotting a dried patch of drool on his shirt.

 

“Like a hawk!” Laurens exclaimed, brushing her hand aside as he stood up. He stretched his back and shoulders, hearing a few satisfying cracks, before his gaze fell upon the wall clock. “Hold on, what time is it?”

 

“It’s time to head home, old man. You need a proper nap and a mandatory shower,” Joline responded, snatching his coat and pressing it into his arms. Taking charge, she led him out of the room, disregarding her uncle’s protests and his futile attempts at resistance. “You can see our patient again tomorrow,” she assured him calmly, closing the door behind her. Her lips curved into a smile as she heard the door take a few protesting hits, then everything went quiet.

 

Afterwards, his sister made her way back to Marcus, grabbing a chair and sitting down beside the bed. “La... ns,” Marcus struggled, trying to ask her about his uncle. The last two days, he had mostly listened to his family, absorbing the details of what had happened. However, it had felt like and been a one-sided conversation because of his weakened state and inability to properly communicate. Beyond that, he also felt like they were withholding information from him.

 

“How’s Uncle Laurens doing?” Joline inquired, one eyebrow lifting briefly. Marcus nodded in response, and her expression softened. “Well, I think it’s up to him to share his full story. But...” she paused, contemplating for a moment. “After the Great Impact happened, he had it rough. He and other police officers, along with the military, did their best to ensure everyone’s safety. However, they were lacking crucial information back then. Many of them lost their lives or suffered crippling injuries.” Joline leaned back in her chair, reflecting on the past. “It took a toll on him, I think. Losing colleagues, witnessing all that death... not having his own brother anymore. It was a heavy burden for him to bear.” She briefly folded her hands. “Eventually he got demoted, and his marriage crumbled after a few tumultuous years. You waking up is good for him. I think he needed a win.”

 

Marcus nodded as he imagined the hardships his uncle had gone through. His father and uncle had always been close, seeing each other regularly. ‘He must have felt crushed,’ Marcus thought, recalling the first day in the hospital and his uncle’s hollow demeanor. He took a moment, closing his eyes and concentrating on forming an important word. “An... d... Mar... t... in?” he struggled, experiencing a sense of discomfort while managing to utter the words. Afterward, he opened his eyes and saw his sister’s wide smile, causing him to feel like a three-year-old that had just spelled a word correctly.

 

“That’s amazing,” Joline offered, her smile lingering for a few more seconds while Marcus simply stared at her until she got the hint. “Right! Martin,” she said as she rubbed the greenish spots on her knuckles. “He’s a smart lad. Losing mom and dad was tough on him... on all of us. But Marcus is a tough cookie, getting into university and now working at some fancy tech company. Although for the life of me, I can never remember what it is they make there,” she explained as she leaned further back in her chair and grabbed the small cactus before settling it in her lap for a moment. “He doesn’t like me discussing his leg... or talking about mom and dad,” she said as her tone became flat while Marcus watched as she pressed her index finger against the cactus’s spines, witnessing the sharp object pressing against her skin without it being able to puncture it.

 

“I was out shopping when it happened. Martin was at home with mom and dad. They all got buried under the rubble... Mom died instantly. I was told that it was quick,” Joline stated as she pressed harder against the cactus spine until it snapped, her finger remaining unscathed. “Dad wasn’t as lucky. He...” She then paused suddenly, as if forcing herself to pick her words carefully. “He died trying to free his son from the debris... Martin says dad was brave until the end.” She pressed her finger against two more spines, breaking them without it harming her. “Dad died while Martin was forced to listen.” Another spine snapped off before Joline jerked out of her trance and quickly placed the cactus back on the tray. “Shit. Sorry about your plant. It’s just... None of us really likes talking about what happened. Well, I guess that goes for most of the world. The Great Impact is a bit of a touchy subject.” Marcus’s gaze shifted to the chain around his sister’s neck, carrying the wedding rings of their parents. He was about to speak, but his sister abruptly stood up. “Let’s do something less depressing. How about I’ll fetch a nurse that can find us a mirror? I think it’s time for you to meet the new you,” she said while nodding to herself before heading towards the door and stepping outside.

 

 

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A few minutes later, Joline was holding onto a small mirror as a nurse adjusted Marcus’s bed, gradually raising it into a seated position before the woman left the room. “Now, keep in mind what the doctor mentioned, okay? Small steps. You know that you've slimmed down a bit, and despite 13 years having passed, you don’t look 33-year-old. Alright?"  Marcus hesitated for a moment before he finally nodded, and Joline turned the mirror around, revealing his reflection. “You could use a shave and a haircut, but you’re still all you.”

 

He gazed at his own reflection, taking in his long black hair and the uneven patches of stubble on his face. With his gown now slightly opened up, he could also see more of his upper body, which had significantly lost its muscular size. It had been replaced by a fragile and thin frame, adorned with several stitches marking the site of his recent surgery. Dark, blackish, metal-like spots were scattered across his skin, especially on his right side, extending from his arm to the top right side of his face. They resembled claw marks, with prominent black stripes adorning his body. What caught his attention the most was his youthful appearance. It was as if time had stood still for him. Despite all the years that had passed, his reflection appeared no older than twenty-one years of age. “Yo... ng,” he uttered, his gaze narrowing at what he was seeing.

 

“Yeah... it’s pretty weird, isn’t it? It took us a while to get used to it as well, but we had years to adjust to seeing you stop aging. Guess I’m the older sister now, right?” Joline asked with a wide grin before bringing the mirror a little closer to her brother. “The doctor can explain it a lot better than I can, but it’s something to do with that machine that kept you healthy. They called it ‘Mana stasis’ or something fancy-like. Apparently, being exposed to high concentrations of Mana strengthens the body of people like you and me, before we suffer from Mana-sickness. Usually, we don’t notice it when we get close to Mana sources for a while, but you’ve had years of constant exposure, but at a low dose.” Her smile grew more reassuring as she tapped the mirror. “Your young looks might take some time to get used to, but honestly, I’d choose this over the alternative any day. You know what I mean?”

 

‘It’s like time stood still for me,’ Marcus thought, his mind clouded as he tried to comprehend how something so unthinkable could happen, let alone try to understand how it worked. His gaze shifted to his right side, examining the black streaks that marred his body, including the lines etched on the top right side of his face. He recalled what his family had told him about those things, including why his sister had the greenish ones on her body. ‘Sis said that people call them ‘Marks’, but it feels more like a curse.’ He struggled to recall what had transpired during the Tech expo. Everything remained a hazy blur, splinters of memories further torn apart and reassembled. He could still vaguely remember the meteors striking the building, him shielding Felix somehow before one of the meteors collided with him and Oscar, but beyond that, his memories were filled with chaotic sensations and feelings he couldn’t quite place. His family had told him about Oscar's passing, but deep down, he had already known it somehow. This knowledge usually was accompanied with the sound of flesh tearing and an unclear image of something haunting his thoughts for a second—something monstrous. The fragmented memories weren’t the biggest issue he was dealing with. The worst part was the occasional sensation that gripped him—a strange pressure building up inside his body, as if he was struggling to contain something.

 

His sister noticed him focusing on the Marks on his body. “Marcus... you’ll get used to them, or at least learn to live with it. There’s not much else we can do,” she said, placing the mirror down and picking up a nearby pen, moments later tapping it against one of the green Marks on her knuckles. “They are the fragments of the meteors. Stronger than steel and fused with our bodies. They come in all sorts of colors, green like mine, or black like yours, but I’ve seen all sorts of colors out there. What you see is just the surface, but they go deep, intertwined with important bits. Arteries, bones, and other stuff. It’s what produces Mana to flow through our bodies and strengthen us. Being among the Marked, those of us who endured a meteor's impact, sets us apart from others. Some of the Marked opt to have them removed, but it usually comes at a high price.” She took a seat on his bed, gripping his hand, and tapped the pen against the black Marks on Marcus’s knuckles. “You survived... you’re back with us... and in time, we’ll figure out the rest, alright?”

 

With a sudden creak, the door swung open, and a man in his early 30’s stepped inside. He grinned, the brightness of his smile standing out against his rich, dark complexion. "So, how’s my favorite vegetable doing?”

 

 

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Copyright: OsiriumWrites