Dominic's eyes snapped open, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. His chest heaved, and a cold sweat coated his skin. His hands shot to his head as if to shield it from some invisible force tearing at his mind. The dark, suffocating feeling of the nightmare still lingered, a shadow that seemed to crawl into his thoughts, suffocating any sense of clarity.
The walls of his small quarters aboard the UOP flagship were still, and the faint hum of the ship's systems buzzed softly in the background. It was quiet, almost too quiet, as if the world outside had been swallowed by the same darkness that haunted his dreams.
"Just a dream...," he muttered under his breath, attempting to ground himself. His hands trembled as they fell to his sides, but it wasn't just fear—it was the remnants of the nightmare still gnawing at him, the disorienting sense of something unnatural lurking just beneath the surface of his thoughts.
The core... the CMC Titan... the voice inside his head—it had all been real. The battle. The corruption of the core. And the strange, pulsating energy that now rippled through his neural implant.
"Damn it," Dominic growled, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's still in there..."
He stumbled to his feet, his legs unsteady. The nightmares had been growing more frequent, and each time, they became harder to shake off. Each night, the same voice would whisper in his mind, pushing him closer to the edge. And when he woke, it felt as though the core's influence had seeped deeper into his very consciousness.
With a forceful breath, Dominic pushed away from the cot, his body shaking as he forced himself to focus. He could still feel the hum of the implant, its disruption gnawing at the edges of his thoughts like a parasite. Every time he tried to concentrate, every time he tried to focus on something simple—his missions, the war, the people around him—the core would flare up in his mind, distorting his thoughts and pulling him back into the nightmare.
He grabbed the small mirror beside his desk and stared at his reflection. The faint lines under his eyes and the hollow, sunken look in his face were the only evidence of the toll this was taking on him. He was no longer the sharp, focused mechanic that had once scavenged mechs for a living. No, now he was something different—a man caught between his own mind and a force that he couldn't control.
Dominic ran a hand through his hair, trying to push the lingering fragments of the nightmare away, but the whispers grew louder. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to drown them out.
"Dominic..." the voice coiled in his mind. "You can't escape this."
The voice was there again, like a creeping shadow, twisting his thoughts and urging him to surrender. It was no longer just an external force—it had become a part of him. Every time he tried to shut it out, the core found new ways to slip past his defenses, deeper and deeper into his psyche.
His heart raced. He had to stop it. He had to get control before he lost himself completely.
A sudden surge of energy rippled through his neural implant, as if the core was testing his will once again. Dominic gritted his teeth, fighting back the overwhelming sensation. It felt like his brain was being twisted and rewired, like the very neural pathways that connected his thoughts were being hijacked.
"Fight it, Dominic," he told himself. "Fight this..."
But the voice responded with a cruel laugh.
"You don't get it, do you?"
The pain in his head intensified as the voice pushed forward. It was no longer just words—it was a presence, something alive and malevolent that was trying to consume him whole.
"I've already won," it whispered, "You belong to me now. And together, we will reshape this universe."
Dominic's vision blurred as his knees buckled beneath him. He staggered back toward the cot, his hands pressed against his skull as if trying to hold his mind together. The sensation of being ripped apart, of losing control, was overwhelming. He could feel the core inside his head, pulsing with its dark energy, its power now a constant, unrelenting presence.
"No..." Dominic gasped, his voice breaking. "I won't... I won't let you take me."
But the voice only responded with a cold, indifferent whisper.
"It's too late for that, Dominic. You already have."
As the words echoed in his mind, Dominic's vision flickered. The room around him seemed to twist and warp, like it was being pulled into the same nightmare that had tormented him for so long. The walls seemed to close in, the shadows stretching and distorting as the core's presence grew stronger.
In that moment, Dominic realized the truth. He couldn't run from this. He couldn't escape the core. It was inside him, and it had already begun to change him.
But he wasn't going to give up. Not without a fight. He had survived worse—far worse.
"I'm not done yet," Dominic muttered through clenched teeth. "I'm not done."
With what little strength he could muster, Dominic forced himself to stand tall. The room steadied around him, and for the briefest moment, he felt a flicker of his old self—strong, defiant, and unwilling to bow down.
"You can't control me," he said, his voice steady, though still strained. "I'll find a way to destroy you."
The core didn't respond immediately. It only hummed within him, as if considering his words. Then, the voice returned, colder than before.
"Destroy me? You still don't understand, Dominic. You're part of this now. And there's nothing you can do to stop it."
For the first time in a long while, Dominic felt a surge of clarity. He had one choice: embrace the darkness and let the core guide him—or find a way to break free.
But no matter which path he chose, the fight for his mind—and his future—had only just begun.