I couldn't say anything for a moment, the initial shock like a physical voice barrier. I tried not to shake, regaining my senses and fighting the curtain of blind panic that threatened to fall over my vision.
"I said: human or mutant?" The voice demanded in an unpleasant robotic tone that sent chills down my spine. It reminded me of when someone slammed their hands on a piano, creating a nasty cacophony of noise inducing an immediate headache. Except this voice was more threatening than a mere headache. Not only did the owner of the voice have a knife pressed against my throat, their distorted voice reminded me of Kai… and the discordant scream that erupted from him when I stabbed him.
I fumbled for words. "Human."
The owner of the robot voice pressed the sharp object further against my throat, the stinging sensation telling me that they'd cut the skin. I clenched my teeth, trying to pull myself together. The dark pressed around me like walls closing in. My eyes strained to see anything in the darkness that would help me, begged the subtle light of the fire to provide further guidance. "I don't think you are," the voice taunted. "You came from outside, I watched you from the window, standing near the rubble of Big Ben."
Outside? Why would coming from outside make me inhuman? Confusion added to the piano-keyboard-smash of thoughts striking in my head, chord after chord of panic.
I said nothing. It was better to keep quiet in these situations, to focus on finding your wits. I delved deep into myself, finding the flickering flame that I could ignite into an inferno at will.
Then I saw it. A shard from the shattered hall mirror that lay on the floor.
In the barely-there light from the fires outside, I could see myself and the person behind me, silhouetted by orange. Although I could see no details of their face, I saw their stance: the elbow that stuck awkwardly above my shoulder where they held the weapon, the weapon itself poised at an imprecise angle and most importantly, their left hand held at their side which was shaking.
So this person wasn't a professional then. They were afraid even.
The fire sent crackling energy through my body. Fired up by adrenaline, I threw my arm swiftly upwards, knocking their elbow aside. The weapon clattered to the floor, receiving a surprised yelp from my attacker. I ducked before they could regain their wits, lunging for the sharp mirror shard on the floor. Before the other person could even process what was happening, the shard was pressed against what I presumed to be their stomach in the little light I could see.
Their panicked breathing through the mask sounded almost demonic, a metallic rasp.
"I have a few questions if you wouldn't mind answering." The voice wasn't my own, it was a firm, threatening voice that I had no ownership over, the darker part of me that I usually kept hidden. There were so many questions I could've asked, so many that I needed to ask to figure out what had happened to me and more importantly, Titan itself. But the first question I found myself asking was: "Where are my parents?"
"I don't know," the voice was layered with metallic fear, a waver that sounded oddly like the auto tune a singer would use. "I'm the only person that has been here."
"When did you come here?"
"Two days ago, a day after the disaster first happened. My apartment was near the epicentre so I had to find shelter elsewhere."
Three days… so that's how long I'd been lying in my grave of rubble.
"How did you survive?"
"I was on the outskirts of Titan. I'm a journalist so I was—"
"I don't care a bit about what you were doing," I snapped. "What happened? You must have seen what happened?"
The person didn't answer for a moment.
"Answer me!"
"It was an explosion. Bigger than I've ever known capable."
"How many are dead?"
They paused again, like it was painful to say. I braced myself, fear pulsating through my like a second unsteady heartbeat. "I think almost the entire city."
Shock hit me like a physical thing. My arms became limp, my whole body giving into the weight of it. I let the weapon clatter to the ground, my head spinning with the dizziness of denial. i dropped to my knees, my thought-filled head suddenly too heavy to hold. "It can't be. It can't be." I looked up to the person who stood awkwardly above me. "Who would do such a thing?"
The person moved slightly, what I thought to be a shake of their head. "I don't know anything beyond what happened."
"Have you seen any others? Any survivors?"
"I have but they're… different. They've changed… or… mutated. They can survive outside in the intense radiation without getting sick. They have strange abilities or have had complete changes in personality. I thought you were one of them, a mutant, because you'd been outside. Maybe you're not one," they considered, "but how else would you have survived?"
I refused to ask myself the same questions again, since the answer seemed out of reach. I changed the subject."Is there no one else? No one who's normal?"
"I suppose whoever is still normal will die in a few days due to the radiation from the explosion."
"Then you…?"
"I don't want to think about it."
Silence fell between us as I processed it all.
"These… mutants. What are they like?"
The person moved again, this time extending a gloved hand. "Come with me. I'll show you."