January 28, 3070
There are moments in life that you have prepared for the majority of your life.
Moments where every grueling hour of training, every sacrifice and the limit of your tolerance comes into sharp focus.
These are the instances where your resolve is tested, where the weight of your decisions hang heavy, and where the culmination of your experiences define your actions. It's in these moments that the true measure of your character is revealed.
Today is supposed to be that day.
After the chairman's closing speech, I was supposed to forego the after talks completely and get on with my mission. At exactly eleven-thirty, Dr. Rajbhar, since she decided not to show up in this meeting, will go for a round in our Section to check that discipline is maintained and she will be back in her office after exactly twenty minutes. The Security Officer, too, with his CORPS will be having breakfast which means that none of them will notice the slight glitch as I video spoof his job.
That leaves me roughly ten minutes to get to the Section 1 door, do the work and once the door opens, get out and finally start my actual mission.
But today isn't happening like it is supposed to because the chairman decided to fuck it all up by being late.
The room buzzed with anticipation, the air thick with the scent of polished wood and wealthy fragrances. Rows of students and faculty members filled the seats, their faces reflecting a blend of eagerness and subtle annoyance.
As we all waited for the chairman, my eyes scanned the room, taking in the familiar faces. Dr. Samantha Thakkar was seated near the door, her stern expression softened by a hint of pride. Vinay, her son, sat besides her, his eyes glued to the game he'd started playing ten minutes ago.
The moment I had finished my presentation, he was the first to start applauding and the last to end it, cue the 'I love yous' and cheering. Or screeching? But he is adorable so he's allowed, I guess.
The rest of the board directors sat on their respective chairs, their expressions stern, eyes fixed intently on the papers spread out before them. I'm certain they're meticulously scrutinizing every thesis paper and article again because, after reducing two students to tears and mentally tormenting the rest of us with a barrage of questions, they still aren't satisfied.
And while all of this is truly annoying, what truly bugs my mind is Dr. Rajbhar bailing on me. Not that it's a problem but I can't help but feel a hole in my present when she has been a constant annoyance in it.
Her absence, strangely, leaves a void and for that alone, she must suffer.
The irony of missing an annoyance is not lost on me. It seems that the persistent presence of an irritant can carve out a space in one's life, a space that feels oddly empty once that irritant is removed. It's akin to the phantom limb syndrome where the mind grapples with the absence of something it has come to recognize as part of its environment, however unwelcome.
Her absence has created an unexpected and an unsettling silence where once there was a grating noise. This absence is not a yearning for her presence, but rather a stark reminder of how humans tend to acclimate to even the most unwelcome of constants. It's an intriguing insight into human psychology: we form attachments, even to our frustrations.
Now, in her absence, there is a curious mix of relief and a strange, twisted form of yearning. Not for her return, but for the predictability of her interference. The mind, it appears, can become attuned to anything, even discomfort.
Her absence, therefore, leaves a peculiar sense of imbalance, a disruption in the usual patterns.
And she is not one to break patterns. Or so I have noticed.
Hence the unsettling calm; a quiet that feels more like the eerie silence before a storm.
I lie but I don't lie to myself.
From the moment I woke up today, a feeling of unease has been plaguing my mind; the sense that something is off. And it's not leaving me. Even though I have trained myself for this exact moment for five years, even though I have analyzed today's plan from the start to the core a thousand times, the feeling just won't go away.
And the head of the institution not attending the editorial meeting today is just the cherry on the top.
It's not like her to miss an opportunity to critique or challenge me. Her sudden absence is so out of character, that it alone sets off alarm bells in my mind.
I glance at my watch, waiting very impatiently for this son of a toad to arrive and just get the hell away from here. This is starting to annoy me very much. He better hurry up or I am dumping some shit on his wife's laptop before his planned demise.
"Are you in a hurry?" a soft whisper breaks my inner turmoil, and I purse my lips, irritated.
Why? Just why do people think that I am the most idle person to talk to? Why does everyone insist on bothering me? Am I not intimidating enough? Am I not irritating enough? Have the rumors of me being a witch not reached the right audience?
I don't answer. Like always.
"So, we're going with the silent treatment then," he remarks, shifting closer beside me before running a hand through his hair.
Again, he is met with silence because duh. It's me.
"I don't like this side of you," he continues, his voice close enough that I feel his breath against my ear. "I prefer my student representative as I know her to be."
His words pique my interest, prompting me to turn towards him. And I realize I clearly underestimated how close he had come as he's just inches away now, tilting his head slightly and intensifying our proximity.
My jaw clenches, taking his attention. "And how do you know me to be?"
His eyes meet mine again and I see the same madness behind them — cunning and unhinged. His lips part but he is interrupted as finally, finally the gates of hell open and the devil himself walks in.
I turn my head just as the door swings open. Escorted by four CORPS, the chairman strides into the room.
The constant eyes from my peripheral is the last thing on my mind as I take a good look at the man behind NEUN. He exudes an air of old-money elegance, his presence commanding attention.
The dark and reflective lenses obscures his eyes from view and it sits atop his nose with a slight tilt, giving him an air of mystery and intrigue. Dressed in an impeccably tailored suit, the fabric drapes perfectly over his frame. The suit's deep shade of navy contrasts elegantly with the crisp white shirt beneath. His tie, a subtle pattern of silver and charcoal, adds a touch of sophistication. Every stitch and fold whispers of wealth and refined taste cultivated over decades.
Decades of power.
And all those decades of power taken through blood reflects in his demeanor as he takes his place at the podium, the room seeming to subtly shift, all eyes now fixed on him.
He starts his speech but I am... distracted. Distracted by the way his shoulders are slightly hunched, his movements jerky and unnatural, eyebrows scrunched and lips trembling slightly after every pause.
This is very unlike him.
Very unlike him.
There was no stutter from him but the slight slur in his words did not go unnoticed by the crowd. Murmurs of confusion spread through the auditorium. The air grew thick with tension, an almost tangible pressure that pressed down on my head.
The chairman we know is not the chairman in front of us.
That's what my gut says and my gut is always right.
And it's proven true when my thoughts are abruptly interrupted by the sudden jolt of the door swinging open.
Gasps are drowned out by piercing animalistic snarls and gurgling. Three of the CORPS, their faces twisted with alarm, move swiftly towards the door, while one, his posture tense and eyes wide, attempts to shield the chairman.
Note: They are not fast enough.
Before they can even reach the door to inspect the disturbance, a group of snarling and growling beings charges in wildly, their expressions contorted with maniacal glee and a hint of madness. Their eyes gleam with a sinister light, giving them an unsettling, almost feral appearance.
Blue eyes.
My stomach drops as a wave of nausea hits me, my body instinctively recoiling from the sheer horror unfolding before me. I quickly stand and move to the back of the room, trying to distance myself from the chaos that ensues.
What. The. Hell?
Hair disheveled and clothing in disarray, they move with a frenzied energy; limbs flailing and bodies jerking unpredictably. Some of the maniacs are CORPS, their once disciplined uniforms now disheveled and torn, while others are in lab coats, the pristine white now stained with smudges of unknown substances, making my mind reel.
I was taught about them. I know of them. It was what I wanted to discover by getting out of this building and infiltrating their main organization.
Necrogens.
You've got to be kidding me.
Kid.
A thought clicks in my mind: Vinay. My eyes directly go to the stage where I spot him hunched under the table. His usual bright demeanor is replaced by a crumpled posture, his shoulders shaking as he tries to make himself as small as possible.
My lips purse. So not adorable.
Without hesitation, I make a run for him, swiftly maneuvering through the chaos. The scene can easily be the cause of someone's trauma and nightmare: screaming, running humans mix with snarling necrogens, creating a swirling mass of disgust. I weave through the panicked crowd, ducking and sidestepping to avoid flailing arms and gnashing teeth.
A CORP, his eyes now a chilling blue, charges at me from the left just as a student stumbles against me. So I do the only rational thing. I throw the student towards the blue-eyed maniac and leap onto the stage.
Vinay looks up at me and the tears running down his face makes my jaw clench. I hate this. He is scrunched up under the table, his small form trembling. His breathing is erratic and when I give him my hand, he flinches.
I glance around cautiously, then crouch down, ensuring my voice carries the full weight of my promise. "I'll protect you."
He sniffs, nods, and grasps my hand as he emerges from under the table. I squeeze his hand firmly, my eyes sweeping the room once more. Without a moment's hesitation, I pull Vinay gently but decisively towards the elevator that opens directly into the auditorium — the very same one we used to arrive here from our Section.
But as soon as we start walking, we jerk to a stop because you've got to be shitting me.
The chairman stands there, his earlier crisp white shirt now dripping red and his face, once sharp and regal, now marred with scars and blood. His eyes, once a dull brown, now glow an eerie, unnatural blue — the unmistakable mark of a necrogen. His movements are jerky, almost mechanical. Blood seeps from a gaping wound on his side, staining his shirt and pooling at his feet.
I had pretty plans for him. Plans that I now have to flush down the drain.
He was to suffer but fate is a bitch. It always has been. Always giving the easy way to the sinners and the most brutal wars to a survivor.
"Under the table and eyes closed," I instruct Vinay with a calm, steady voice. Like the good boy he is, he immediately obeys, crawling under the table and squeezing his eyes shut.
The chairman charges towards me with a guttural growl, his eyes wide and locked onto mine with a predatory intensity. And when he comes close enough, in one swift motion, I pull the long metallic hairpin that was holding my hair in a bun and plunge half of it into his eye.
Blood stains my hand and coat as he lets out a horrific scream.
I kick him on his ankle, sending him down on his knees and pull the hairpin before plunging it back into his other eye. His screams turn louder as he thrashes violently, his face turning into all kinds of ugly.
"You were blessed from my wrath, Sirel," the rage burning my body is covered in my calm voice. And one final time, I pull the hairpin and jam it into his throat. He falls back, his screams now hissed snarls and choking gurgles. I spit on him and say the words that changed my entire life that one night.
"May you never find peace."
I don't let the satisfaction of the kill get to me, nor do I wait to see his body go lifeless and numb.
And I sure as hell don't care about anyone else here. The room is a cacophony of chaos and I need to get out of here. I wipe my blood-covered hand on the tablecloth, the sticky warmth smearing across the fabric and grabbing Vinay's arm. He jerks at first, eyes wide with fear, but quickly gets out from under the table and grasps my hand, his small fingers trembling.
My eyes dart to the elevator area. The chairman's delay cost us precious time, and now a swarm of blue-eyed necrogens and scream-fighting humans block our path. The call buttons glow red, signaling that the elevator is out of service.
Dr. Rajbhar.
A familiar feeling starts to creep up my neck but I force it down, instead grabbing a chair and turning to Vinay. "Do not let go of my hand and stick close to me."
His tears are probably the only ones experiencing true freedom but he nods and since this is no time for comfort, I just squeeze his hand and make a beeline for the door.
It's a chaos down the stage but... expected? Knew it?
I descend the short steps, ensuring Vinay is on the safer side, close to me. Annoyance creeps up my spine at the realization that I not only have to protect myself but also someone else.
A child, of all things.
Amazing.
And what's more amazing is Vinay tripping over the last stair and in my haste to balance him, I hurl the chair at the charging group of necrogens.
The chair crashes into them, buying us a few precious seconds and because I genuinely, very literally, don't have time to express my annoyance at the small child clinging to my side, I grab his arm and make a dash for the door, only to come to a jerky halt as a CORP snarls at me, blocking our path.
Fuck.