Breachers

Breachers – Path of Steel

34

I

Self-Hate

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Day 39

Specter

Specter extracted his hatchet from the skull of another peculiar monster that resembled a strange alien-like ostrich. The creature had a thick body, large legs, and sickly grey feathers. Despite its remarkable speed, it had proven less of a threat compared to the other monsters they’d encountered in this Sphere. It had just been annoying to catch and finally kill. Ditching the shield, Specter opted for the axe and the dexterity of his mechanical fingers to pry the Glass from the monster’s skull. Suppressing his emotions as he heard the nasty pop when the Glass came loose, the robot reminded himself, ‘I’m Specter. I’m someone who watches over his family.’ He got back up and made his way to Marcus. “And that’s another one for our second night here. I think that’s number 19,” he said as he rifled through Marcus’s backpack, depositing the loot inside the plastic bag there. He then backed off and moved towards the ridge of the large mound of debris they were currently standing on, checking out the expansive junkyard. The two of them could see the signs of recent battles, destruction that hadn’t been present the day before, or clear signs of human activity. Shifting through Marcus’s memories, he recalled sitting in the back of the rusty van during the day, surrounded by the sounds of distant battles, shouts, gunfire, and explosions. He remembered Marcus chewing awkwardly on a sandwich as bullets whizzed nearby, or how the man had performed push-ups, attempting to distract himself from a horde of monsters charging past the location of their van.

“I think there are fewer monsters around this time,” Marcus commented, casting a quick glance at the monster corpse near him.

“Well, judging by what you heard during the day, I’d say that the party of Breachers that went in this afternoon were dead set on making the buggers in this Sphere an endangered species,” Specter said while he knelt by a hole in the ground, revealing a tunnel spiraling downward through the length of the mound they were standing on. “Ready to jump in and get horrible murdered?” he asked, glancing back at Marcus, who was eyeing the massive tower where the Orb would be located. “Marcus?”

The young man snapped back to attention, giving a quick nod to his steel companion. “Ready,” he said, grabbing Specter’s shield and hatchet. The robot just stared at him for a moment before retrieving a knife from his makeshift scabbard. He then took one of the flares Marcus had brought, lit it, and began crawling down the hole face-first. Awkwardly navigating the twisting path, he occasionally stumbled as the path abruptly descended, then twisted again. Behind him, he heard Marcus swearing while hauling the rest of the gear.

Specter crawled deeper until he suddenly came face to face with a strange creature. Blinded by the flare, it started hissing. Without hesitation, Specter jammed his knife into the creature’s mouth. At the same time, it lunged forward, clamping onto Specter’s arm and dragging him back  with it. The monster made a gurgling sound as it jerked backward with blood pouring from its mouth. It slammed Specter into walls as it continued to move backwards until they both fell as the tunnel suddenly widened into a larger chamber. The impact drove Specter’s arm further into the creature’s throat, the knife now protruding from the back of its neck, ending its life after a few last twitches. When he was sure that it was dead, Specter pulled his bloody arm and knife free from the monster’s throat, eyeing the mole-like monstrosity with its strange deformities and bird-like legs. ‘Why are they always so weird and ugly?’ His feet slammed down twice on the monster’s face to truly confirm that it had died and wasn’t just faking it, like he had seen some of them do. Surveying the chamber, he noticed the packed dirt, plastic, and rusted metal in various stages of mutation, all pressed together into sturdy walls. Strange tendrils threaded through it all, pulsating a soft blue glow. Some tendrils branched off from the ceiling, holding onto transparent sacks filled with a dirty-looking liquid. A few of the sacks even had partially formed monsters inside of them. ‘Ten sacks, four with growing monsters,’ he thought, examining the bizarre cocoon-like structures. ‘We found our first proper nest, or whatever this kind of place is called.’

He heard Marcus land on the floor with an awkward plop, along with the items he was dragging behind him, the hatchet landing dangerously close between his legs. “Holy shit! That could’ve been bad,” Marcus hissed, getting up cautiously and double checking to make sure all the important bits were still safe. Specter slowly moved towards the man before touching his shoulder. Briefly, he shared his encounters and observations before letting go again and moving towards the first monster inside the sack.

“Seems like this is where the monsters come from... a strange hatchery or something,” Specter observed, pointing his knife at the fleshy sack. He pushed the blade through, letting the liquid inside spill out.

Marcus recoiled instantly, as if on the verge of gagging. “Gross, that reeks,” he said between hisses.

Specter gave a nonchalant shrug before slicing the sack open further. Once he made a wide enough hole, he slid his arm inside and reached for the tendril connected to the Glass in the monster’s skull. While attempting to cut it out, the Glass shattered and disintegrated in his steel hand. “Wait... What just happened?”

Marcus approached, pressing his sleeve to his mouth. “I guess the Glass wasn’t fully formed yet, or not stable. Who knows? It’s weird to think that these things create Glass and monsters. Let’s check another,” the young man suggested. Moving to the next sack, they both wielded knives to cut that one open as well. Marcus breathed through his mouth, occasionally letting out a muttered curse or attempted not to gag. When they had opened it up they held onto the partially formed monster, cutting into the connected tendril. Specter studied the monster’s bulky frame, its feathery patches glistening almost like steel, fused together like defensive plating. Suddenly, he froze as the monster’s eyes opened, staring directly at him. Before he had a chance to react, Marcus’s knife slammed into one of the monster’s eyes, deep into the socket. The sight snapped Specter into action as he thrust his own knife into the other eye. Twisting the blades, they drove their weapons in deep until the monster stopped thrashing. “Guess he didn’t see that coming, huh?” Marcus asked with an amused grin while Specter shook his head at the dumb joke. They cut out the Glass, leaving a nasty hole where it had been. “And that’s 20,” Marcus said, glancing over his shoulder at the monster Specter had slain when falling into the chamber. “Well, 21 if we’re counting that one.” The two of them then systematically sliced open the remaining sacks, preemptively dispatching the monsters inside with some less than tactical frantic face and throat stabbing before cutting apart the vines that were attached to the Glass pieces. Eventually, they retrieved two more pieces and the one that Specter had killed on his own, bringing the total to 23 in their possession.

“Not bad for a few hours’ work,” Specter pitched in as he tossed the remaining Glass into the bag before flinging it to Marcus, who snagged it midair. “I wonder if this growth process of these creatures inside those sacks happens fast, or if there are tons of these birthing chambers hidden inside these Spheres. Makes you think about how many we might’ve missed in our other trips to different Spheres."

“With my luck, I’ve probably passed by them a dozen times,” Marcus said, staring at the Glass in the plastic bag. “We’ll have to do more research more when we get back home. It’s hard to accept that they’re typically guarded by just one monster like you faced just now. I mean, this has to be a fluke, right?"

“Who knows. So, what’s the plan? We’ve got more than 20 pieces, so we can upgrade a Stat. Ready to head home?” Specter asked while giving the chamber a once-over to make sure they hadn’t missed anything.

“That depends. How much juice do you have left in the tank?”

“Got about 140 minutes left,” Specter mentioned, gaze focused on his HUD as he figured out his battery situation with a quick estimate. “Give or take.”

Marcus took a moment, as if weighing his options. “Well, we gained seven Glass yesterday, while we gained eight pieces this time, with plenty of time to spare.”

“And we played it safe... safer... safe-ish, compared to last time,” Specter chimed in, noting Marcus’s brief nod. “I say we head home. Take the win, try not to die scaling the fence or suffer a stroke or heart attack when you upgrade your Stat, and come up with a good excuse for your two-day radio silence. I mean, Joline is probably going to chew you out regardless.”

“Yeah. I doubt they’ll believe I went fishing and forgot my phone.” Marcus said halfheartedly as he kept staring at the Glass in the bag, shaking it now and again. “And Joline has a right to worry.”

Picking up on Marcus's sudden shift, Specter watched him for a moment, just staring at the Glass. “Something wrong?”

Taking twenty Glass pieces from the bag, Marcus dropped the remaining ones on the floor one by one. “You’re right... The smart move is to go back home, hit the upgrade and recover,” he said, staring at the bundle of Glass in his hand.

“Why am I sensing a ‘but’ at the end of that sentence?” Specter replied, his camera focusing on Marcus, observing the smirk forming on the man’s lips as he eyed the Glass. “Marcus, no—” Specter barely got the first two words out before Marcus lifted his shirt and slammed the pieces into his chest, right where the black Marks were. “You fool!” Specter hissed, stepping forward while watching the 20 Glass pieces disintegrate as energy flowed through Marcus body, settling into his core. “Right in the middle of a Sphere! Did you even consider that it might work differently when we’re stuck in a bubble filled with bloody Mana and monsters!”

Marcus panted, adjusting to the surging energy within him, a force eager to find a path to some sort of change within him. “Sorry... couldn’t help myself,” he said, stepping back before leaning against the nearby wall. He raised his hand to forestall Specter’s lecture. “I know we need to be safe... to be smart about all of this. But I can’t shake the memory of how that douche treated our sister, how he looked at her. She’s been stuck in that awful position in that guild for years, forced to fight monsters to keep me alive. She never had another choice. I just want to speed things up and settle her debt quickly.”

Specter held his peace for a moment, grounding himself in the fact that he wasn’t Marcus but Specter, a robot that was calm and collected. He held onto more and more of his father’s memories while repressing more of the lingering bits of Marcus within himself. “You didn’t do this for our sister. You did this because that brain of yours is prone to anger. We’re the same person, yet I’m expected to change and be the mature one?” he asked, letting the words hang in the air for a moment. “Why is it that I can see reason here, and you still do the same stupid things like you’ve always done?” In response, Marcus hesitated, his mouth opening briefly before he shut it again, his irritation evident but without a suitable comeback. “No words? No quick lies that you can hide behind?” Specter inched closer to Marcus, gazing at the man’s blue eyes. “You swore an oath that you’d change. You promised Mom and Dad. What’s changed, huh? Just me?”

“It’s easier when you’re a machine,” Marcus said softly, his eyes suddenly widening as Specter’s fist collided with a nearby metal sheet behind the man with enough force to dent it.

“What about dad? Was it easier for him to grow up and become more mature? Change into someone worthy of being called a father instead of some thug?” Specter’s voice shifted, becoming deeper and colder. “Mom and Dad’s last memories of you before they died was you being disappointment—a reckless, petulant child throwing temper tantrums instead of growing up. And what about our sister? She’s sacrificed her entire life to protect her family... blood-stained hands desperately clinging to the fragments of her old life. What you just did here mocks everything she’s done. You’re a bad son and an even worse brother,” Specter declared coldly, leaning in closer to Marcus as he uttered the words.

Marcus glared at his companions, his blue eyes narrowing as anger bubbled to the surface. He spoke up, emphasizing each syllable. "Fuck... you..."

“You know what... Do it. Be the unrestrained fool. Grab that energy you just got and use it,” Specter hissed, stepping back. “I hope the process hurts—more than Martin losing his leg, Joline losing her future, or Oscar bleeding out on top of you. More than the last few hellish minutes our parents endured, buried under all that rubble.” Specter, unfazed by Marcus’s visible rage, returned the stare, unbothered by it all. Had his steel features allowed it, he’d had conveyed his own sentiment in that moment: disgust. “Do it. And I hope that Marcus dies in the process and someone else steps up. Someone who’ll actually keep his word when he swears an oath.” The enraged young man attempted to unleash a yell, but Specter’s hand suddenly snatched his neck in a tight squeeze, lifting him up in a slow, threatening manner. Their minds didn’t sync up despite the physical connection, made possible by Specter’s anger. Marcus stared at the man, a mix of anger and fear etched across his face as he realized the sheer strength difference between steel and flesh in that moment. The man’s eyes widened as Specter’s steel fingers tightened harder around his throat, cutting off his ability to breathe. He struggled, futilely slamming his fist into the robot’s unyielding steel arm, but only managing to hurt his own hands in the process. His eyes rolled back, as if on the verge of passing out, yet Specter kept squeezing, both physically and mentally. “I said... do it.” Suddenly, Marcus’s eyes widened, every muscle seeming to contract simultaneously. Releasing his grip, Specter watched the man collapse on the floor, writhing and coughing, fighting to breathe. As Marcus’s frame contorted with pain, Specter just stared, disregarding the message flashing on his HUD.

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[Strength] [+1]

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Specter slowly lowered himself, squatted near Marcus’s writhing frame while grabbing him by his shirt and yanking the man closer. He forced Marcus to meet his gaze, refusing to once again establish a connection and shield himself from the thoughts and memories. “I’m Specter, the one who watches over his family. I know what I’m born to do,” he declared, his voice deepening, slowly sounding less like Marcus as he stared at the pained figure beneath him.

“Who the fuck are you?”

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Copyright: OsiriumWrites