[center][img]https://s26.postimg.org/5dbusws6h/cooltext260022557352083.png[/img][/center] [h3]May 12, 2:07am[/h3] My lungs clawed desperately for the cold, conditioned air. Sweat finely coated my entire body despite the duvet cover being several feet from the bed, at least. Beating irregularly - and far too fast - my heart hammered deafeningly in the otherwise silent room. Closing my eyes, I took several breaths to calm and steady myself. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Repeating the action over and over again slowly quelled the noise, banishing the fear which had become a staple of my sleep cycle over the past few weeks. Scanning the room, it was filled with awkward shapes and shadows, cast by the shafts of light filtering in through the shutter on the door. Crumpled into a heap - and strewn across the coffee table - was the duvet, as predicted. A faint trickle of liquid swelled against the oppressive silence, the more I looked around. Gathering my bedclothes, it wasn’t even nearly time to get up, but my power had kicked in. Since it required my subconscious concentration to work, that sound meant only one thing. I wasn’t getting back to sleep. Wonderful. Sitting upright, my eyes stung as they frantically protested being open. To stop them from complaining, I clapped my hands together and turned on the lights. Clinical, white light flooded the room and glinted off the bare floor. “[color=#FF4D4D]Ow,[/color]” I mumbled, groggily. Standing up, the icy metal beneath my feet was cold enough to burn - but it was something you grew used to when living in a glorified hamster cage. Flicking a semi-hidden lever with my foot, the bed converted into a sofa just within reach of the table. Slamming myself down with a [i]whump[/i], I just stared at the ceiling and gathered my thoughts. Chronic nightmares had been a problem of mine for as long as I could remember. Lately, though, they’d been getting more intense and a lot more frequent. Every night without fail, I’d be treated to my own private horror show. The subject of the dreams didn’t even make any sense to me. One option was talking to the shrinks, but I’d be damned if anyone from the IOS was getting in my head any more than they already had. They were about worms. Or, more specifically, small, worm-like creatures. According to my nightmares, these little parasites infested my entire bloodstream. That simply wasn’t the case. If there were even a [i]few[/i] of those [i]things[/i] in there, I’d have found the buggers by now. No matter how much rationalisation I tried, they kept repeating. Intertwine that with apparent memories of vats and endless tests… Whether these nightmares actually meant something deeper or were just a reflection of how mentally screwed I was would become clear. Or it wouldn’t. Maybe it’d go on forever with no explanation. After a few months, I might request a lobotomy. It was only now that the lack of trickling became apparent. I looked at the billboard above the coffee table to see the blood on the screen there had stopped. The picture was now of those little creatures in my dreams. Scowling, I clicked my fingers. Blood sprayed across the room as the painting exploded into droplets. Left alone, it would dry in - and the guards wouldn’t be happy if they saw it all over the place. Reluctantly, my hand raised, drawing the blood out and back to its rightful place on the wall. ‘Rightful’ being an interesting term to use. Rather than just sitting and feeling sorry for myself, I replaced the energy lost by the early awakening with snacks and caffeine kept on hand to stave off low blood sugar. Grabbing a book off the shelf, I settled down on the couch under a mound of duvet and hid from the cold. At any other time, the divine mix of hot tea, a good book and the soft trickles of my own blood would have been enough to lull me to sleep. I’d already seen what awaited me tonight, though, and had no intention of going back. [hr] [h3]May 12, 4:45am[/h3] An alarm shattered the enjoyable peace and quiet, continuing on for far longer than was wanted or needed. Underneath my constantly-shifting blood feature, a message was displayed in large lettering. [hr] [color=green]//:DEAR RECIPIENT YOU HAVE BEEN REQUESTED TO ATTEND THE AUDITORIUM AT PRECISELY 6:00AM THIS MORNING. AS THIS IS AN HOUR BEFORE CURFEW RELEASE, AN INSTITUTE EMPLOYEE WILL ATTEND AND MANUALLY RELEASE YOUR DOOR. FROM THERE, YOU WILL HEAD DIRECTLY TO THE AUDITORIUM AND BE SEATED. NON-COMPLIANCE IS NOT AN OPTION. ::[/color] [hr] The sudden display took me by surprise. I’d never been called up quite like this - certainly never before curfew. Was the guard really necessary? Being marched along never sat well with me, and today was going to be especially bad after my lack of sleep. Shuffling out from underneath my quilted heaven, I turned on the shower and set the temperature gauge down as far as it would go. Stalking around the room - desperately trying to put off stepping under the water - I tided away my clutter and stuffed the duvet into the back of the couch. Stripping off and taking a final deep breath, the baltic water hit my exposed skin and chilled me to the bone. The assault on my senses snapped my brain into gear and caused the blood to run and drip down the wall. Satisfied that I was both completely awake and not reeking of fear, my concentration returned enough to clean up the mess on the floor for the second time this morning. At least the shock collars were built well enough to not trigger when hit with water. Getting electrocuted would really put the tin lid on my morning thus far. Taking my sweet time to get ready, the ensemble for today was my usual combat gear. Given the short notice of the summons and the nature of the message, I assumed I would need it. After lacing up the boots and fastening my belt, I draped the heavy, leather jacket over my shoulders before checking my reflection in the reflective metal panels on the floor. My complexion actually looked the brightest it had in awhile. Usually, I was pale as a ghost, but my face held some colour. So, naturally, I hid it behind my mask. Seconds after pulling up my hood, the shutters beyond my door opened with a sharp series of clunks. Followed by the double-glass-and-steel-bar door. Never underestimate a human’s ability to use several of something when only one is needed. As the door opened, an extremely clean smell overwhelmed the room. Disinfectant, I figured. Guess the cleaners had just scarpered. In the opening, an armed guard stood with a shotgun in one hand and a remote control in the other. “The auditorium, #64. Get moving,” he barked with a sneer. As I walked back over to the small wardrobe, he punctuated his point by waving the remote menacingly. Unfortunately for him, the shock collar wouldn’t kill me no matter how many times he pressed. So I one-upped him. Taking a several-inch knife out, I waved it in his direction instead. Flicking it around my fingers, it slid perfectly into the sheath behind my back. “[color=#FF4D4D]Certainly, [i]sir[/i],[/color]” I cooed like saccharine. “[color=#FF4D4D]Lead the way.[/color]” “Not a chance, you first.” Gesturing with the gun, he seemed the type to follow his orders to the letter, bless him. Taking a few steps out the room, I clapped to turn the lights off, and the guard shut the door behind me. Since he’d insisted I take the lead, I decided to have a little fun with him. For the first corridor, my feet kept a regular pace. After that, I hummed some music to myself and slowly altered my step speed to match the tune. Almost crashing into the back of me several times - and wanting to keep his distance as though his life depended on it - my escort growled. Two floors from the bottom, he finally snapped and cracked me over the back of the head with the butt of his gun. Grabbing the rail to stop my forward momentum, I couldn’t help a light chuckle. “[color=#FF4D4D]Not a fan of jazz?[/color]” Raising the remote, his face reflected a deep need to press that damn button. “[color=#FF4D4D]Since neither of us want to be here, why don’t you go head back early? I’ll find my own way to the auditorium,[/color]” I said. “[color=#FF4D4D]It was a [i]pleasure[/i].[/color]” And with that, I jumped the rail. The fall was short and exhilarating, since it was only a few metres high. Landing a little away from the wall, by the time I looked up, several more armed guards had surrounded me. “Move another muscle without permission, #64, and missing the meeting will be the least of your concerns. Move.” Unable to help a sigh, I followed the front two guards while trying to keep tabs on the ones behind me. Thankfully, we were almost there. After entering, though, my stomach dropped. The sheer number of Children here was staggering - more than I had ever seen in one place for a mission. Unless the literal apocalypse was riding up, this seemed excessive. My armed escort turned on their heels and began to leave the room. “[color=#FF4D4D]Hey![/color]” I called out after them. “[color=#FF4D4D]You’re supposed to ruffle my hair and provide a handmade lunch before you go. Basic parenting.[/color]” They didn’t even look back. I hated when people did that. Putting on my best scowl - purely for my own benefit, of course - I scanned the room looking for the emptiest section. The entire room was pretty busy overall, so hanging out in the wings suited me more. A short distance away, a girl and a boy seemed engaged in a stilted conversation neither really knew how to approach. Which made sense, when I realised who they were. Eli and Cynthia had been the talk of many reports on psychological health in this hole - but hers had been a fair bit more detailed. Many people were worried about even being near her. Not me. I was covered from head-to-toe and didn’t have any excess skin for her power to… work on. My arrival had been just in time for the speech. Hydra were encroaching on [i]six[/i] separate fronts in what could only be an organised attack. That explained the sheer level of Children. My assignment was heading out to face a colossi. Making up the team were a bunch of people I'd only vaguely heard of. Except fucking [i]Cipher[/i]. That little shit was irritating. Power blocking throws my entire thoughts into chaos when I can’t hold my weapons together. If he gets me killed, I am so coming back to haunt his ass. After scanning the room and coming up trumps, I gave the two Children a sharp nod. “[color=#FF4D4D]Hey, I'll take this time to wish you both luck out there, since you are within earshot,” I said before turning to Cynthia. “It's nice to finally meet you, too. I’ve… Well, it’s nice.[/color]” Actually strike up a conversation was strange, being so used to simply avoiding my 'siblings'. These two were different - the very definition of what is wrong with this place.‘Void’ after all... She’s got it worst than most in here. Whether it was pity, or guilt or something completely unrelated, she reinforced the one thing I knew for certain. In the heart of the Institute, there were fates worse than death.