Vance's fresh blood spread out in Anzhe's peripheral vision, a spreading swath of crimson. Those in line at the gate, upon hearing the commotion, turned to watch. Upon witnessing the scene, they turned back around as if nothing had happened.
But Vance was dead. A man was just killed at the gate of the human base, and no one protested.
And so, Anzhe realized that this man must be the Judge, the person Vance had mentioned the day before.
He was the master of the Court of Judges, determining the humanity of every individual at the city gate, possessing the power to decide life and death without needing a reason.
And now it was his turn to face judgment.
Initially, Anzhe's heart raced, pounding against his chest as he faced the barrel of the gun, the chilling realization that he might truly die setting in.
But as he looked into the Judge's cold green eyes, Anzhe gradually found calm.
Going to the Northern Base was an inevitable choice he had made; thus, facing judgment was to be his conclusion, regardless of the outcome.
Quietly, he counted seconds in his mind.
One, two, three.
The expected gunshot never came. The Judge kept the gun trained on him, cautiously approaching.
As if by unspoken agreement, the people in line sped up, drawing closer together, and in moments, the area where Anzhe stood had emptied.
Eleven, twelve, thirteen.
By the fourteenth second, the Judge had reached him. His trigger finger lowered the barrel, and then, he holstered his weapon.
"Follow me," he commanded, his tone as cold and flat as his gaze.
Anzhe stood still, waiting for the Judge to move, but three seconds later, the man hadn't stirred.
Lifting his head in confusion, Anzhe heard an even colder tone from the Judge, "Hold out your hand."
Obedient, Anzhe extended his hand.
Click.
He shuddered from the cold.
One end of a pair of silver handcuffs clicked around his wrist, the other end held by the officer.
And just like that, Anzhe was led away.
Strangely, when Vance was executed, the people in line showed no reaction, but now, as Anzhe was taken by the Judge, they began to whisper and murmur among themselves.
Anzhe only managed to glance once more at Vance's fallen body before being pulled through the gate.
Inside the gate wasn't a narrow pathway but a vast divided space, bathed in stark white light reflecting off metallic walls like winter's snow shining on gray slate.
Armed soldiers were everywhere, just as plentiful as outside, and amidst the stringent security presence, a snow-white table seated three black-uniformed officers, presumably more Judges, with one person in front of them undergoing interrogation. "How is your relationship with your wife? She didn't accompany you on this trip outside the city?"
Anzhe knew from Anzhe's memories that questioning was also a method to recognize variants since humans infected would have transformations in appearance, demeanor, habits, sanity, and memory.
The man who had brought him in glanced over at the interrogation, instructing, "Make it quick."
The central Judge responded with an affirmative, told the person facing them, "You may go."
The individual, as if spared from death, showed a smile and quickly passed through the passage.
Thus Anzhe realized that the man escorting him was indubitably the Judge, and his directive to "make it quick" wasn't about hurrying the Judges but revealed in an instant that he had determined the examinee was entirely human.
The next examinee approached the white table from the queue, and the distance between the two points was vast, with turns, inclines, and machines shaped like doorways in between. The arrangement, Anzhe realized, was to display as many movement traits of the examinee to the Judges as possible.
But he had no time to observe more, for the next second, he was being pulled around a corner and into a long corridor.
The man, taking out a black communicator, announced, "Judiciary, Luk Chen, requesting a gene test."
Anzhe guessed the two words in between were his name.
Then, mechanical doors slid open before them, Luk Chen walked straight in, and Anzhe, stumbling, followed.
The room was silver-white, filled with unintelligible mechanical devices from floor to ceiling, six soldiers stood guard around it, and at one end sat a young man with golden hair and blue eyes in a white coat.
"Luk Colonel actually came here," the young man, pushing up his glasses, jested, "I thought you solved everything with bullets."
"Cooperate, Doctor," Luk Chen retorted.
The Doctor eyed Luk Chen and stood, directing Anzhe, "Come with me."
After lying down on the silver platform as directed, Anzhe's limbs were held in place by mechanical rings. "Don't move," the Doctor instructed.
Then Anzhe felt a sting in his arm. Turning, he saw the Doctor slowly withdrawing a vial of bright red blood.
"Your blood color looks healthy," said the Doctor.
"Thanks for the compliment," replied Anzhe.
The Doctor chuckled at his response.
"Blood is sent for genetic testing, which takes an hour. Whole-body enhanced scanning is estimated at forty minutes. Stay still."
Once those words fell, blue light radiated from the platform, a low humming filling the air, directionless, every particle charged with sound. The resonating noise from all sides reminded Anzhe of distant nights in The Abyss, the solemn beat of the ocean waves, then at the darkest hour of night, the cries of unknown creatures, the vibrations sweeping over the land of the rain season.
Electric currents crawled and gnawed on his body like countless ants. Forty minutes for a mushroom weren't long, but Anzhe thought these might be the last forty minutes of his life, valuing them, watching the mechanical patterns on the ceiling intently.
After some time, he heard from outside Luk Chen saying, "Andre told me your checks have upgraded."
"You're very well-informed, Colonel," the Doctor responded, "We discovered that special fragments are activated in the DNA during a human mutation, which we've named targets. There are two main categories of alterations: those resembling animal traits and those like plant traits. The improved genetic test now includes both processes simultaneously, each taking an hour."
"Congratulations," Chen murmured.
The Doctor laughed softly before probing, "Colonel, if genetic testing became much quicker and cheaper, would your Court close up shop?"
"I look forward to it."
"You're no fun."
Their conversation halted.
And Anzhe, looking at the silver ceiling, pondered what his species was.
A mushroom.
The Doctor said there were two types of mutation: animal-like and plant-like.
Firstly, he felt, mushrooms are not animals.
Secondly, mushrooms don't seem to be plants either; they lack leaves.
Wracked with confusion, Anzhe strived to categorize himself as a plant but couldn't find sufficient evidence.
He took too long contemplating, and the blue light had disappeared from beside him.
"You're done," the Doctor announced, releasing the mechanical bonds.
Continuing, he asked, "Colonel, may I inquire why you brought him for a genetic test?"
"You may not."
The Doctor was evidently taken aback.
He helped Anzhe to a chair on one side and ruffled his hair, "Sit here and rest awhile. I'll check the blood test results."
So Anzhe sat.
Across from him, the Judge observed with those cold green eyes. A young face, sharply contoured, with strands of hair obscuring his brow beneath the hat's brim. The room's cold light draped him in thin shadows like a blade's edge scratching at him.
Anzhe felt frigid under such a stare. Mushrooms dislike cold. So he turned the chair away from the Colonel.
He felt colder still.
Much later, the Doctor finally returned, breaking the silent room, "The genetic report shows no abnormalities. You may leave."
After a few seconds of silence, Luk Chen asked, "Are you one hundred percent certain he's human?"
"Though it may disappoint you, we didn't find any targets. Every other infectee or variant has at least ten," the Doctor elaborated, then added playfully, "Look, the little friend doesn't even want to deal with you."
"Turn back around," the Colonel's voice ordered.
Anzhe wordlessly complied.
Facing Luk Chen's gaze, he dodged slightly, aware that he truly wasn't human.
Then, Luk Chen raised an eyebrow, "Not leaving?"
Anzhe obediently hopped off the stool, following him out—this time with freedom, not constrained by handcuffs.
Midway, Luk Chen suddenly said, "When I first saw you, my intuition told me you weren't human."
Anzhe's heart nearly stopped.
After a full three seconds, he managed to respond, "And... the second look?"
"This is my first time requesting a genetic test," the Colonel said, handing over the test report, "For your sake, you better be."
Anzhe could only silently accept his own normal results. For a moment, the corridor filled with the monotonous echo of their steps.
Approaching an exit, a turn led them straight into an incoming team. Leading was a black-uniformed Judge, followed by two heavily armed soldiers escorting a man with a disheveled woman of tall stature and short hair.
The Judge greeted approaching Luk Chen, "Colonel."
Returning the gaze to the escorted man, a spasm crossed the man's throat, and he shouted, "I'm not infected!"
The Judge halted, addressing Luk Chen, "Suspicion of an infectee but without conclusive evidence; there's strong demand by family for a gene test."
Luk Chen's response was a nonchalant hum, as the soldiers dragged the man away, brushing against Luk Chen, then—
A gunshot.
Not looking back, Luk Chen exited, "No need."
The man collapsed instantly, caught by the soldiers. The following woman screamed, falling to the ground.
Anzhe glanced at Luk Chen's expression—so impassive Anzhe had never seen such coldness before. He knew Anzhe was always gentle, Vance, considerate and generous, Hawson full of greed, Anthony all caution, but Luk Chen was different. His eyes were void.
Anzhe thought, for the Judge, killing was perhaps as natural as breathing. He wouldn't be moved by it because he was accustomed to it.
Anzhe and Luk Chen were soon at the corridor's exit.
There, two lightly armored soldiers waited, one body obscured by a white sheet assumed to be Vance.
Blurring in Anzhe's vision, he stepped forward, longing to lift the shroud for one more glimpse of Vance but was stopped by the soldiers.
One soldier extended a blue chip, saying in a steady tone, "AR1147 mercenary group confirmed with no survivors, equipment and resources recaptured by the base. Goods and rewards calculated, combined with consolations remitted to relatives. Please claim personal effects."
Anzhe inquired, "Where are you taking him?"
"To the incinerator," came the reply.
Body trembling slightly, Anzhe hesitated to take the ID card.
Luk Chen broke the silence, "Don't you want it?"
Anzhe stayed silent. After a while, he looked up at Luk Chen, "He... truly wasn't injured."
In those cold green eyes, he saw his reflection, wide eyes with a tranquil sorrow.
Luk Chen remained expressionless as Anzhe thought he would walk away, yet to his surprise, he stepped closer.
The black baton nudged aside the white shroud, revealing Vance's right hand.
Anzhe knelt, examining the slight red dot on his ring finger, seemingly a minor prick, yet from its edge, a sinister grey-black liquid slowly seeped.
Shock rooted him, memories flooding back.
Ant shell fragments with human blood—on that day, Vance told him, in places with minor pollution, injuries don't necessarily lead to infection, and some people hide the truth because they want to go home.
So, so—the person pricked by the ant shell wasn't Anthony, it was Vance.
Struggling to breathe, Anzhe's fingers trembled as he accepted Vance's ID card, pocketing it close, then turned to look for Luk Chen, only to find the place beside him empty.
Standing, he looked outside to see a slender black silhouette fading into the gray sky at the gate.
After a moment, tumultuous sounds drew his attention. He turned to see the woman who lost her comrade, stumbling out, only to be halted by soldiers.
"Luk Chen! Judge—" She struggled furiously, pushing forward, waving her arms in the air, her voice hoarse with desperation, "You will not die well—!"
Her raspy, piercing cry burst forth, echoing through the structures, yet it couldn't win even a backward glance from the Judge.
Gradual silence settled, the two bodies carried away in succession. In the empty corridor, only the woman's intermittent sobbing remained.