A teenager sat motionless, amidst the carnage that surrounded him. His legs were tightly clenched together, and his eyes were lifeless as if they had witnessed horrors beyond his comprehension. The ground and walls were splattered with thick, red blood, and the air was thick with the coppery scent of death.
The lighting was red and sinister, casting the interior in a demonic gray. The boy appeared to have given up on life, as he raised his hand, only to see it covered in blood. The corpses of his victims lay scattered around him, a sobering reminder of the brutal actions he had taken to survive.
Tears streamed down his face, his expression one of heart-wrenching despair, yet the approaching figures watched on with cold, remorseless smirks. They were the brutal instructors of the perfect soldier program, relentless and ruthless in their training. One knelt down beside him, analyzing the boy's state.
"You are a tool, B-1X," the instructor sneered. "You will always be a tool. Nobody is your friend. You have no family. You have no one to rely upon. No one will save you. You belong with us, the foundation. Only in duty do you have a use."
"How much can he take? Was he not a 1st generation clone? They break so easily. It's been 6 months," one instructor mused, as he knelt beside the boy, his eyes studying him intently.
The boy, B-1X, looked up at him with a mix of defiance and despair.
"This punk still has willpower, huh? Fascinating. Still, we need to push him more. See the limits. that is our goal for now." the instructor said, his lips twisting into a sinister smile that sent shivers down the boy's spine.
B-1X couldn't hear the instructors' taunts anymore, only the echoes of the screams of the ones he had killed. He let go of his head, accepting his reality. It was his choice. His fellow clones, the friends he had made, were like brothers and sisters to him. When would the suffering end? What had he done to deserve this? When would it all stop?
His heart had numbed and he felt like his humanity had left him. He couldn't call himself human, acting like this. He was a machine, designed for a purpose, and he couldn't resist. He could only follow orders. This was the 30th time he had been tasked with killing one of his close friends. Clones that had known for just a few weeks. He was told it was for a good cause, and every instructor drilled that thought into his mind with force. B-1X had been brainwashed since the day he was able to understand words. He had been drugged and tested on by the doctors. After that,
B-1X's life had no meaning to anyone. He was beaten to a pulp by big men with military combat training, taught martial arts through abuse and torture. If he made mistakes, he was treated like a punching bag. Day and night had no meaning for him as he was kept in isolation, his bones cracking under the weight of the brutal training.
Yet, every day he survived, running countless miles, learning new forms of combat and expert techniques, training under deadly conditions. Fighting against underwater threats, deadly animals, and monstrous creatures created in labs, he was pushed to the brink of death each and every time. Most of the other clones like him had died under the same conditions, but B-1X found a way to keep going, to learn and adapt, to survive.
Despite the endless cycle of suffering and despair, B-1X stood up every single day with a glimmer of hope. A voice deep within him always helped him stand up, a voice of reason and determination, it gave him just enough incentive and motivation to keep getting up. It was this voice that gave B-1X a sense of purpose, a reason to survive amidst the chaos and violence that surrounded him.
"Stand up. What use will it be to give up? What use will be to give in. You are not alone." The voice inside of B-1X's mind always said. And though he often forgot about it, that one line always stayed with him, "You are not alone."
Through every day, B-1X survived the challenges that kept getting harder and harder. He got stronger and faster, approaching his second year in the super soldier program. His mind was not faring well, his emotions were nearly gone, and he couldn't feel anything. The instructors couldn't keep up with his pace, as he was outpacing everyone in battle arts, tactics, and weapon handling, combat, stealth, every form of training. His success rate was nearing 90% in simulations.
"Let's put him to the test, shall we? If he can complete this scenario, we can just clone him and disregard everything else, as we have now produced the perfect blueprint," said a young man in a suit, sipping tea. His eyes and smile were terrifying, like something out of a nightmare.
"Start protocol X," he ordered.
One day, in his quarters, B-1X finally admitted defeat. He looked at his hands, which were stained with blood, the amount of blood they had soaked up that day was beyond anything he could imagine. Even after being washed by the caretaker's serval times it did not remove the stains.
The scenario began and B-1X was faced with the task of killing the masters and everyone he had ever met. His martial arts instructors, the entire training management, everyone. Because he was ordered to. His behavior had been so manipulated that it was like second nature for him to follow orders from higher-ups. He killed everyone he had ever seen, the world he knew, because someone had ordered it. B-1X had finally lost everything.
"I'm a tool. I will always be a tool."
B-1X kept repeating the phrase as he sat in his empty, dark quarter, his face devoid of any emotion. That day, even the voices in his head had stopped. The world around him started to morph into black goo, engulfing him alive, but B-1X didn't care. He didn't even blink, just kept repeating the phrase in the same curled up position when he had murdered everyone.
Muffled voices of distorted screams flooded his senses, and Ray woke up from the nightmare with tears flowing that he couldn't stop.
With hiccups and a breakdown, Ray had woken from his coma. the nightmare that he couldn't describe, and cried. He touched his eyes, trying to stop the tears, but the memories of his haunting past were too much to bear, and he couldn't stop the emotional outpouring.
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In another part of the estate, Allister moved with precision and speed as he sparred with his opponents. He was a fierce competitor, determined to improve his skills and be ready for any battle that might come his way.
"Ching Ching.Clatter"
The sound of swords clashing echoed through the training area as he dodged and parried the strikes of his opponents.
He was focused and in the zone, his mind clear of any distractions as he fought. He was determined to be the best, and he put all of his effort and energy into his training. He was not satisfied with being so weak.
Allister fought furiously against the training dummies that had Reager stones embedded in them, his sword ringing out in a staccato rhythm as he parried and lunged. He moved with a grace that belied his size, his body slick with sweat as he darted and dodged.
The moving dummies surrounded him, but he was undeterred. He saw an opening and acted, his leg sweeping out to trip one of the dummies, causing it to crash to the ground. Another dummy lunged at him with a sword, the metal whistling through the air. Allister flipped nimbly into the air, avoiding the strike.
With a fluid motion, he disarmed the dummy and turned to face the others, his sword held at the ready. The dummies lunged at him again and again, but Allister was too fast, too skilled. With a final clash of metal, the battle was over.
The sound of the instructor's applause echoed through the training grounds.
"At ease, Allister. Good work," he said, his face etched with admiration and respect.
Some soldiers returned from their posts and guards were talking about some topics. Allister was listening and was standing near them. Allister listened to the guards' conversation, his ears perked up with interest. They were talking about recent developments in the city, and how the city council had invited their leader, Ivan, as a representative.
"Did ya hear brother? The city council has invited our leader Ivan as a representative. Maybe we will get equal treatment now. "
One guard, a grizzled veteran with an eye patch and a heavy scar, expressed skepticism.
"Don't expect anything," he grumbled. "This might be because they want us to be held accountable that dark rift walker breached the city."
But another guard, a tall man with a mane of blonde hair, spoke up in defense of their leader.
"No, we killed it. One summoner type escaped but we did our jobs perfectly. Before we even came to this there were dozens of attacks like this on the city every month. Now since us high humans came and settled here for the past 3 years there has been a few cases. That's a massive improvement considering the state this city was in when we came here."
Allister nodded silently, taking in the guards' words. He could understand both sides of the argument. On one hand, it was true that the city had seen a marked improvement in safety since the high human guards had arrived and taken up posts. But on the other hand, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was still a long way to go before true equality was achieved between the different species.
Allister couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope at the guards' words. He had always been aware of the racism and discrimination that existed among the different species, but had always believed that things could change for the better. Maybe, just maybe, this invitation from the city council was a step in the right direction.
However, he couldn't shake off the feeling of skepticism, after years of seeing the same promises being made and not being fulfilled, he has learned not to put too much hope on those kind of things. He looked around, observing his comrades, most of them high-humans. He was a hybrid. But still counted himself as a high-human. He knew that, no matter what the city council might say, they would always be looked down upon and treated as second-class citizens because of their heritage. It was just because of the past of the high humans.
"They are abusing our situation. Just, wake up. I don't trust this council. They still feel threatened by less than 50 of us. They made specific rules and living hard for us. For 3 years we are being worked to the bone as guard dogs for their precious city and they still can't give us fair treatment. They just fear us. Our might and power. We are one of the strongest sup species on this continent one point. If we had like 1000 of us, we could have taken over the city. At least then we would be not treated like dirt," the old guard grumbled.
The grizzled veteran with an eye patch words set off alarm bells in Allister's head. He knew that the man was bitter and angry, but he couldn't believe the things he was saying.
Allister felt a wave of disgust wash over him. He couldn't believe that someone he considered a respectable man could even think such things. He was about to speak up and argue with the old man when the others intervened.
"Are you insane?" one of the guards said, his voice laced with shock. "Old man, just don't talk about things that you don't understand. This is the reason why we are hated in the first place. We were the ones that had slave trades as an economy. Don't say something like this. There are spies everywhere."
Allister nodded, relieved that someone else had spoken up. He knew that the old guard's words were dangerous. He made a mental note to keep an eye on the man and report any further outbursts to his father hans or leader, Ivan.
The guards fell silent, all of them glancing around at the estate that surrounded them. It was a large piece of land that had been given to the high humans as a sort of "reward" for their service, but Allister knew that it was also a way for the city council to keep an eye on them. Everyone had the same thought.
One of the high-ranking guards, a muscular man with a stern expression, spoke up. "Drop the topic, guys. It's not worth it. Let's just hope for the best."
Allister could tell that the man wanted to end the conversation before it fueled any more resentment and anger. He was relieved when the guard changed the subject, talking about another member of their race who had recently saved a young girl and protected some minors during a dangerous situation.
The one-eyed guard nodded and added, "Yeah, Ray's a hero. Let's give him a round of applause when he comes back."
The group nodded in agreement and turned their attention away from the uncomfortable topic. Allister knew that the high human's situation in the city was far from perfect, but for now, he was just happy that things hadn't escalated. He made a mental note to keep a close eye on the situation and be more careful with what he said and did, with the knowledge that the city is full of spies and prying eyes.
"I hate that kid. I don't like deserters. I'm going to my shift," he said, his voice filled with malice.
Allister felt a pit form in his stomach as the old veteran spoke. He couldn't believe the hate and anger that the man was expressing.
The atmosphere in the group shifted and many fell into a tense silence. Allister knew that the guard was referring to Ray, his old friend who had recently saved Lilly and protected some minors during a dangerous situation, but who had also deserted the group in the past.
"He changed, guys. He was just a kid. What did you expect," a guard tried to defuse the situation.
The old guard sneered at him,
"That kid is the reason many of us died while we journeyed from our fallen kingdom. It does not change that fact. One act of bravery cannot change his past."
As he spoke, his fist was shaking with anger and his face twisted with bitterness. Allister felt a wave of anger wash over him. He knew that the man's words were wrong, that everyone deserved a second chance, but he also knew that there was nothing he could do or say to change the old guard's mind. Only time can heal that.
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A few minutes ago.
The family sat around Ray's bed, their faces etched with worry. He lay there, unconscious and hooked up to an IV drip that administered a strange blue liquid. The liquid seemed to be alive with tiny particles that swirled and moved within the substance.
Lily, Ray's little sister, watched him sadly.
"Will he wake up now?" she asked, her voice small and filled with uncertainty.
Ray's mother reached over and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"We have to have faith," she said, her voice quivering with emotion.
"The doctors said that he's showing signs of improvement, and that the treatment is working. We just have to be patient."
Ray's little brother, who had been reluctant to come at first, now sat by the bedside silently. He didn't know what to say.
Avan looked at Ray, seeing the pale complexion. He could feel the weight of the situation, He could see the family's fear and concern. He didn't want to give them false hope, but he also couldn't bring himself to say anything negative. He just sat there, watching, waiting.
Lilly, still holding Ray's hand, looked up at her little brother with a worried expression, sensing the weight of his thoughts.
"Don't blame yourself," she said softly.
"Ray made his own choices, and he knew the risks. He did what he did to protect you, and that's all that matters."
Ray's mother also noticed her son's expression and put her arm around him.
"Your brother is a hero. He saved many lives that day. We are just hoping and praying for his recovery."
As his little brother Avan left the room, his thoughts were filled with anger and resentment. He couldn't shake off the feeling of betrayal and hurt.
[You should have been like this when you deserted both me and mother. I won't trust you. I just can't. I don't care for you anymore," he thought to himself, his heart heavy with emotion] he thought
He couldn't understand how everyone else could forgive and forget so easily, how they could see his brother as a hero. He had suffered so much when Ray had deserted him , and he couldn't bring himself to forgive him so easily. He felt that his brother had to pay for his past mistakes before he could even consider forgiving him.
With a hard expression on his face, Avan left the room without looking back. He knew that his mother would stay with Ray a while longer, but he couldn't stand the sight of him. Not yet. He needed to clear his head, to deal with his emotions before he could come to terms with everything that had happened.
As he walked down the hallway, his mind was filled with a singular thought, "I'm going to exterminate that dark rift walker."
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Ray's eyes fluttered open and he sat up with a start, gasping for air. His mother and sister, who were sitting by his bedside, jumped up in surprise.
"Ray! You're awake!"
Ullie exclaimed, her face lighting up with joy.
Ray looked around the room, still trying to adjust to being conscious again. He couldn't remember how long he had been asleep, but he knew it had been a long time. He looked at his mother and sister with a mix of confusion and relief.
He started crying out of now where Ray's sobs gradually subsided as his mother's soothing words and touch helped to calm him down. Lilly watched him, her own eyes misty with emotion. She had never seen her brother like this before and it made her teary as well.
"There, there sweetie. Everything is fine. I'm here," Ullie said softly, rubbing his back in a comforting gesture.
Ray's cries turned into hiccups and he hugged his mother tightly. He couldn't shake off the feeling of the nightmare, it was so real. He just felt devastated with emotions, not able to express what he was feeling.
Ullie understood what he was going through. The dark taint that Ray had received was a nasty curse that would rekindle the darkest memories one had. It would cause them to have nightmares, and in a way, it gave the dark rift walkers a form of mild control over the victim.
Ray's mother held him close, feeling his body shake as he cried. She knew it would take time for him to heal, both physically and emotionally, but she was determined to be there for him every step of the way. She loved her son and she would do everything in her power to protect him. She made a promise to Fiona to love her children as her own.