It is Tuesday, the fifth of December of the year 2113. Thirty-four years have passed since I was reborn, made anew in the rituals our founder created. I count every day, every month, every year, unceasingly; a unique habit formed from the knowledge I would exist on this planet long after everyone I knew had become dust. My family and friends, lovers and strangers, all would be nothing as I continued on, unending.
The count was a painful reminder, a necessary one, that I could be so vastly different but still... normal, still human. Unlike the rest, I firmly believed I was superior, but I did not, for a single moment, think I was better than Mankind. Humanity made me, giving me strength and power beyond anything I dreamed or imagined; we were all humans once. To turn our back on them would be criminal hypocrisy.
And now, I sit, surrounded by sable, black suits of armour, small propulsive packs on their backs and equipped with weapons of death. They were genetically engineered soldiers, ready to butcher. Every Invincible was one of them once, but now, I no longer remember what it was like, to be them. There were vague memories of my awe and shock upon seeing those giant figures, those same gazes now directed at me. It was a strange and surreal moment on the silent journey.
A slight shake brought me out of my reverie, a bright red signal appearing on the VTOL's roof. It signified the event about to occur, a massacre of dreadful proportions.
The side doors opened simultaneously, the wind howling like a rabid beast, three cloaked transports ready to deploy. I was to go first; we always did, the highest echelons of Humanity. Ensuring I carried a new, lightweight device, I equipped my face mask, fusing to the plates. I had painted it years ago, a rite of passage every one of us does, a reminder of our past lives and the new. Mine was for intimidation and the memory of my sister. I would always remember her memory; what it has pushed me to do, to achieve. And this would be another terrible but necessary one.
And thus, as all soldiers prepared, I jumped. More than ten kilometres above the world, I fell rapidly, my boots preparing themselves with white streaks for the inevitable impact. My comrades fell behind me, rifles in hand, as the wind whistled past. The closer we got, the more the streaks increased, ready to absorb the shock of the predestined crash.
Five kilometres, four kilometres, three, two, one; impact. I would always be the first, the strongest and the bravest, a leader amongst mortals. For I am, Invincible.
***
The shockwave rocked the base, items clanging on the metal floor as the earth shook. It ceased moments later, the scientists frenzied in their diligence as Mark turned towards two arriving soldiers who shouted his name.
"J- Jeremy?" Mark questioned, "W- Where are we going?"
The soldiers were practically dragging him into the hallway, his anxiety increasing as a hail of gunfire rang outside, screams erupted that evoked thoughts and emotions of his home.
"We have to get you somewhere secure." The soldier urged, "We need to hurry!"
Jeremy's companion kept a lookout, both fully armed, as they started to jog through the halls with Mark in tow.
"Where are we going?" Mark nervously inquired.
"An underground vault." Jeremy responded, "We just need to get to the entrance."
'Should I help? Can I help?'
"Agent Jah gave explicit orders, Mark. You can't be seen as you're... special. I know what you're thinking, I see if in your eyes... you must not help."
Jeremy abruptly stopped, momentum almost carrying him past the corner as his comrade's brain matter now littered the walls. Mark froze, Jeremy backing up with gun aimed front and centre, the sound of heavy boots rushing forward.
"Shit." Jeremy shouted, "Mark, back! Back!"
Screamed out of his daze, Jeremy shuffled him into a side room, oblivious to the guns pointed at him by the area's technicians. Mark's hands blitzed into the air.
"Don't shoot."
The Black Guard soldier glanced behind him, relief showing as he spotted the technicians.
"They're in the hallway." Jeremy informed, "We need to clear them or we are all going to die here."
The man stuck his head out of the side of the door, narrowly ducking a projectile as it smashed into the other edge of the doorway. It skimmed his helmet, sparks flying as a section of metal dented. Dragging his gun around the doorframe in retaliation, he blind fired as automatic gunfire erupted from both sides.
"We need to get out of here; we're gon-"
BOOM!
Unable to finish, the hallway wall was obliterated by an explosion. Dust and debris caked the room as the shockwave flung everyone back, Mark helplessly shrugging it off. Despite the sharpened shards of flying metal, there were no initial fatalities until the bullets rained in. They push through the dust and smoke, taking the lives of two technicians as their skulls shattered from the kinetic impact.
Lying on his backside, disorientated and numb, Jeremy instinctively grabbed his gun and fired back. The technicians followed, doing the same with their own small arms.
Mark stood rooted to the spot, eyes shaking as visions of his house layered over reality, his sockets sunken, and his bottom lip quivering.
The world slowed down, adding to his misery as he had to watch a technician's chest detonating into flying gore from a high-powered projectile. Another explosion rocked the other side of the room, likely more Black Guard men dead.
Glancing towards the popped smoke as two darkened figures appeared, hiding within it, they advanced forward. The duo seemed apathetic in their black suits as if the killing was a chore, bothersome.
His gaze moved to his new acquaintance, Jeremy's face a fleshy mixture of shredded skin and fragments of his metal helmet. Blood poured out of the wound; his right eye sliced in every direction. The urge to vomit erupted as the images of his family's cadavers overlapped with Jeremy and the technicians - his protectors.
Mark fought the urge, his hands clenched as metal, stone, and debris defied gravity, rising into the air and violently vibrating. The air simmered near his eyes, groaning as he screamed.
Unleashing the beam, it hit the first target with pinpoint accuracy, spearing the figure in its chest before it could even react. They were flung back, their armour instantly melting into the flesh as the man screamed, a cacophony of agony, gasps and gargles. They ceased within a moment, death taking him into its loving embrace.
"Hu- h-" Mark stuttered.
The gunfire stopped; everyone looked at him as his eye sockets sizzled red. The remaining enemy's heartbeat increased, the smell of sweat mixing with cooked meat.
BANG!
Mark watched as the demon fired, a high-speed projectile bouncing off his head, his confidence increasing at surviving the hit. He inhaled as two more shots crumpled on his skin, the laser appearing again and narrowly missing the black figure who had jumped to the side. Yet, it only delayed the inevitable.
Following the silhouette with his pupils, the laser pierced through their flesh, the beam dragging itself up their leg and stopping at their breast, cooking them alive. The feminine shrieks were horrifying, echoing across the room for a split second before her torso blew up.
Mark took quick breaths, he did not need to, but he did. The visions stayed as he continued watching the bodies in abject horror. His mind questioned himself and his morals, whether he had done the right thing, yet his family would not leave.
"I... I just killed someone." Mark mumbled, gasping for air, "I- I fucking... killed someone. Voluntarily..."
Brought out of his mind by agonizing sobs of Jeremy, he inspected the man. He lay on the floor, gun firmly grasped as he gently touched his face, adrenaline barely keeping him lucid. Mark dropped to the floor, his father staring at him beside Jeremy, whispering something inaudible. Backing up to the wall, eyes wide, he closed them and covered his ears as the whispers got louder. They made no sense, but he could hear them rambling.
Meanwhile, the technicians tentatively secured the area, the sounds of battle all around them as one rushed to treat Jeremy and another nervously approached mark.
"M- Mark? Mark?" A technician inquired.
The man got no response; the young man was lost in his own world as hallucinations tormented him, blaming him. With no response, he gently grasped his shoulders, shaking him.
"Mark... it's not real. It's not real. You need to come back!"
Seconds passed as his family started to dissipate, Mark regaining his bearings as the wounded Jeremy's shrill screams screeched through the room.
"Make it stop! Make it stop!"
Opening his eyes and with his ears uncovered, he watched as Jeremy convulsed and wailed, the cries becoming ear-splitting. The technician shaking him slowly stood, his features old and creased, and then spoke.
"He needs proper medical treatment. We need to get him to the medical bay, or... he won't make it."
Mark stood, "I- Is it safe?"
The man shook his head, "No. We can carry him, and some of us fight, but... we're sorely unarmed." He paused, "Y- You need to be in front. T- They can't harm you... our fates are in your hands."
The technician had hoped to kickstart Mark, a few seconds passing as Mark worriedly thought it over. He gulped before nodding his head, the soldier patting his shoulder reassuringly.
'I... need to take more lives... I need to kill.'
Mark's emotions raged at graphic thoughts, how he must take lives to save them; a burden he was unused to, the soldiers overcoming it long ago. And now, he had to.
He slowly walked into the hallway, the Black Guard men taking a last, silent and heavy glance towards their deceased before following. They steadily moved down the hallway, Mark following the older man's directions.
They took the first right, the fellowship moving in calculated steps and wary of enemies, the building rocked by a sudden explosion. The group passed over the remains of four Black Guard corpses, none recognisable with their wounds.
'If they were this deep... this battle is going terribly.'