The first thing Thaddeus felt was the cold. It seeped into his bones, a deep, unrelenting chill that made him shiver despite the warmth of the hospital blankets. His eyelids fluttered, heavy and uncooperative, as if they were glued shut. The world around him was a blur of muffled sounds and distant voices, like echoes from a dream he couldn't quite remember.
"Thaddeus… can you hear me?" The voice was faint, barely audible over the rhythmic beeping of a machine nearby. It was a woman's voice, soft but urgent. "Doctor, he's waking up! Come quick!"
Thaddeus tried to respond, but his throat was dry, his tongue thick and unresponsive. He managed a weak groan, his body protesting as he attempted to move. Every muscle felt like it had been stretched to its limit, every joint stiff and unyielding.
"Thaddeus, stay still," the woman said, her voice closer now. "You've been in a coma for two months. Just take it slow."
Two months. The words hit him like a punch to the gut. He forced his eyes open, the bright light of the room stinging his vision. The world came into focus slowly, revealing a sterile hospital room filled with medical equipment. A nurse stood beside him, her face a mask of concern, while a doctor hurried into the room, his white coat flapping behind him.
"Welcome back, Thaddeus," the doctor said, his tone calm but professional. "You've been through quite an ordeal. How are you feeling?"
Thaddeus blinked, his mind struggling to process the question. How was he feeling? He wasn't sure. His body felt foreign, like it didn't belong to him anymore. His thoughts were a jumbled mess, fragments of memories slipping through his fingers like sand.
"Where… am I?" he croaked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"You're at the United Vanguard Corps medical facility," the nurse replied, her voice gentle. "You've been here since they found you."
Found him. The words triggered a flood of disjointed images—darkness, pain, the cold steel of a blade piercing his chest. He remembered the Centauris, its glowing eyes and grotesque smile. He remembered the portal, the oppressive energy, the screams of his teammates. And then… nothing. Just darkness.
"My team…" Thaddeus said, his voice trembling. "Are they…?"
The nurse and doctor exchanged a glance, their expressions unreadable. "Let's focus on you for now," the doctor said, avoiding the question. "You've been through a lot. We need to make sure you're stable before we discuss anything else."
Thaddeus wanted to press further, but his body betrayed him, exhaustion washing over him like a tidal wave. He closed his eyes, the voices around him fading into the background as he drifted back into unconsciousness.
A Few Hours Later
When Thaddeus woke again, the room was quieter. The beeping of the machines was the only sound, a steady rhythm that grounded him in reality. He felt a little more alert this time, his thoughts less fragmented. He turned his head, wincing at the stiffness in his neck, and saw a figure sitting in a chair beside his bed.
It was General Alden.
The sight of the general sent a jolt through Thaddeus. Alden was a towering figure, both literally and figuratively, his presence commanding respect and fear in equal measure. His sharp features were etched with lines of stress, his piercing eyes focused on a tablet in his hands. He looked up when he noticed Thaddeus stirring, his expression unreadable.
"Thaddeus," Alden said, his voice deep and gravelly. "How are you feeling?"
Thaddeus swallowed, his throat still dry. "I've been better," he managed to say. "Sir… my team. Are they…?"
Alden hesitated, his gaze flickering away for a moment before returning to Thaddeus. "They're fine," he said, his tone clipped. "We're more concerned about you right now. You've been through a lot."
Thaddeus frowned, a nagging feeling in the back of his mind telling him that Alden wasn't being entirely truthful. But he was too exhausted to press the issue. Instead, he asked, "What happened? The Centauris… is it gone? Did the S-rank vessels arrive in time?"
Alden's expression darkened. "The Centauris is dead," he said. "The S-rank vessels arrived late, but they managed to take it down. You were lucky to survive."
Lucky. The word felt hollow. Thaddeus remembered the darkness, the suffocating void that had swallowed him whole. He remembered the voice, guttural and demonic, echoing in his mind. *Can I defeat that lowly being?* It had asked, the words reverberating through the infinite blackness. The memory sent a shiver down his spine.
"I don't remember much," Thaddeus admitted. "Just… darkness. And pain."
Alden nodded, his expression unreadable. "That's to be expected. You've been through a traumatic experience. It's not uncommon for the mind to block out certain memories as a defense mechanism."
Thaddeus wanted to ask more, but Alden stood, cutting him off. "You need to rest," the general said. "We'll talk more later."
Without another word, Alden turned and left the room, leaving Thaddeus alone with his thoughts. He lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind racing. Something felt off. Alden's evasiveness, the way he had avoided talking about the team… it didn't sit right with him.
And then there was the darkness. The voice. What had happened to him in that portal? What had he become?
Outside the Room
As Alden stepped into the hallway, he was met by Captain Douglas Graves, a tall, broad-shouldered man with a stern expression and a military buzz cut. Graves was one of the UVC's top officers, a man known for his no-nonsense attitude and sharp instincts.
"Did he say anything?" Graves asked, his voice low.
Alden shook his head. "Nothing useful. He claims he doesn't remember anything after being stabbed. But I'm not sure I believe him."
Graves frowned. "You think he's hiding something?"
"I don't know," Alden admitted. "But there's something about him that doesn't add up. The Centauris was an S-rank threat, and yet he's the only one who survived. That doesn't happen by chance."
Graves crossed his arms, his expression grim. "We need to find out what really happened in that portal. If Thaddeus is hiding something, we need to know what it is."
Alden nodded. "Agreed. But we need to tread carefully. If he's as dangerous as I suspect, we can't afford to tip him off."
One Month Later
Thaddeus stood in front of the mirror, staring at his reflection. He looked different. His face was thinner, his eyes hollow and haunted. The scars on his chest were a constant reminder of what he had been through, a physical manifestation of the trauma he couldn't escape.
It had been a month since he was discharged from the hospital, and life had returned to a semblance of normalcy. He had moved back into his apartment in the city, trying to pick up the pieces of his life. But the memories of the portal, the Centauris, and the darkness lingered, a shadow that followed him wherever he went.
He had tried to reach out to his teammates, but no one responded. He told himself it was because they were busy, that they were still recovering from the mission. But deep down, he knew something was wrong.
The phone rang, snapping him out of his thoughts. He picked it up, his heart racing as he answered. "Hello?"
"Thaddeus?" The voice on the other end was unfamiliar, cold and clinical. "This is Captain Douglas Graves from the United Vanguard Corps. We need to speak with you about the portal incident."
Thaddeus frowned. "Why now? It's been two months. I don't know anything more than I've already told you."
"We understand that," Graves said, his tone clipped. "But this is important. It's about the future of the Corps. We need your cooperation."Come to the address I tell you.
Thaddeus hesitated. "Why not at HQ? Why the secrecy?"
There was a pause on the other end, and for a moment, Thaddeus thought Graves wasn't going to answer. "This matter is… sensitive," Graves finally said. "We can't discuss it at HQ. We'll send you the address."
Thaddeus's unease grew, but he nodded. "Alright. I'll be there.
The address Graves had sent him led to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. Thaddeus stood outside, his breath visible in the cold night air, his heart pounding in his chest. He had a bad feeling about this, but he couldn't back out now.
He pushed open the door, the hinges creaking loudly in the silence. Inside, the warehouse was dimly lit, the air thick with dust and the scent of decay. Graves stood in the center of the room, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable.
"Welcome, Thaddeus," Graves said, his voice echoing in the empty space. "Thank you for coming."
Thaddeus frowned, his eyes scanning the room. "Where is everyone else? Why are we alone?"
Graves ignored the question, his gaze piercing. "Do you really not remember what happened in that portal? Or are you just pretending?"
Thaddeus's heart skipped a beat. "What are you talking about? I told you, I don't remember anything after I was stabbed."
Graves's expression darkened. "Let's see if this jogs your memory."
He pulled out a remote and pressed a button. A large screen on the wall flickered to life, showing grainy footage from a body cam. Thaddeus's breath caught in his throat as he recognized the scene—the portal, the Centauris, his teammates being slaughtered one by one.
And then, something else. A figure surrounded by a black aura, moving with unnatural speed and precision. The figure engaged the Centauris, their fight a blur of violence and chaos. The Centauris was defeated, but the figure didn't stop. It turned on the remaining members of Battle Group 530, cutting them down without mercy.
Thaddeus's stomach churned as he watched, his hands trembling. "What… what is this?" he whispered.
Graves's voice was cold, his eyes locked on Thaddeus. "You really don't know, do you? That's you, Thaddeus. You're the one who killed them."
Thaddeus's world shattered. "No… that's impossible. I would never—"
"The footage doesn't lie," Graves interrupted. "You're the one who killed the Centauris. And then you turned on your own team."
Thaddeus staggered back, his mind reeling. The darkness, the voice… it all made sense now. He had become something else, something monstrous. And he had no memory of it.
"What… what am I?" he whispered, his voice breaking.
Graves didn't answer. He just stared at Thaddeus, his expression a mixture of pity and fear.
The screen went dark, leaving Thaddeus alone in the silence, his mind spiraling into chaos. The truth was worse than he could have imagined. He wasn't a hero. He was a monster.
And he had no idea how to fix it.