“Eins…”

[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: sʏsᴛᴇᴍ ᴄᴀʟɪʙʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ɴᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛɪᴏɴ – sᴏꜰᴛ ʀᴇsᴇᴛ, sᴛᴀɴᴅʙʏ]

“Zwei…”

[sʏsᴛᴇᴍ: ɪɴɪᴛɪᴀᴛɪɴɢ ‘sᴏꜰᴛ ʀᴇsᴇᴛ’ sʏsᴛᴇᴍ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴏᴄᴏʟ! ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ʀᴇᴍᴀɪɴ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ‘ᴘʀᴏɴᴇ’ ᴘᴏsɪᴛɪᴏɴ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴜʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇss...]

“Drei…”

[ᴘʀɪᴍᴀʟ ᴏs: ...ɪɴɪᴛɪᴀʟɪᴢɪɴɢ... ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ, $]%#@!, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ɪᴛs ꜰᴜʟʟᴇsᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ; ʟɪꜰᴇ ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ᴊᴜsᴛ ‘ʟɪᴠɪɴɢ,’ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴜsᴛ ꜰɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɴsᴡᴇʀ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜʀsᴇʟꜰ!]

“Vier…”

[sʏsᴛᴇᴍ: ʀᴇsᴜᴍɪɴɢ ɴᴏʀᴍᴀʟ ᴏᴘᴇʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴘᴀʀᴀᴍᴇᴛᴇʀs... sʏsᴛᴇᴍ ʀᴇꜰʀᴇsʜ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ]

“Lotte, what the heck are you doing?” I asked as the back of her head retreated out of view behind the lapel of my mattress for the fifth time.

“Calisthenics. Pourquoi demandez-vous?” [Why do you ask?]

“It doesn’t dawn on you that doing push-ups in someone’s dormitory floor first thing in the morning is a bit… odd?”

“If I do not perform my daily routine, my arms will become stiff and ridged. Did I wake you Prinzessin? Bitte, non? Please forgive the intrusion.”

With a helpless sigh and a reassuring smile, I patted her crown briefly as it resumed its ceaseless bobbing.

“Don’t worry about it. I can toggle my auditory sensors and sleep through just about anything.”

Having said that, a third voice chimed in from the small pocket between myself and the wall.

“Oh, so that’s why you were a limp noodle all last night!? Well, that’s sorta lame!”

Nearly shrieking, I dove out of the bunk along with the covers nearly flatting Lotte in the process.

“L-Lux, why the hell are you in my bed!? Why the hell are you wearing your lab coat of all things!?”

“Wanna find out what’s underneath? I’ll give you a hint it rhymes with… ‘nothing’ hehe! W-wait-wait-wait! OU-OU-OWOU!!!”

In yanking harshly on her ear, I realized that both the intruders had merely snuck into the door which had been prevented from closing by the tip of a combat boot; one I discarded beating a hasty retreat just in time for the impending curfew.

“What brings you to my morning party I seem to suddenly be hosting? Do you have something to contribute to Lotte’s calisthenics?”

“Nothing other than my support! It’s Mission Day Zero!”

“W-Wait, what? That’s today!? You thought to drop this on me- TODAY!?”

“No-no, it’s ‘Day Zero,’ meaning; Prep Day! We- err, I mean not ‘me,’ but everyone else is getting ready to head out at midnight!”

“That doesn’t give me much time, you haven’t even told me the details or given me a briefing yet.”

“That’s all handled about an hour from now, and not to worry, I'll be your Liaison! You’ll be there, right Lotte…? Lotte…?”

Ignoring the snaggle-toothed beast making a mess of what little bedding remained, Lotte continued to count well into the hundreds without pause for notice.

“I guess that settles it then…” I huffed as I gathered myself from the floor before tossing the comforter over the ball of fur seeking refuge in my bed.

“What settles what!?” Lux jolted, peaking up from beneath the folds with renewed enthusiasm beaming from her ears.

“You get to do my chores for making a mess of my room… and I’ll be going along with the others at midnight. You can count me in for this Sortie. You can inform Tesla I've been convinced for the meantime.”

“What made you decide that all of a sudden? Was it something I said? Is it for me~♥?! WAIT- do I really have to clean your room?!”

“Yes! Besides, you’re staying behind! And if it makes you feel better, you can think I'm doing it all for you. And If Lotte is going, then I’m definitely going. For a girl who can’t tie her own shoes, it must not that be too difficult to fetch some meds from an abandoned hospital. I’ve done my fair share of scavenging to survive, so this should be a piece of cake.”

“I know fifty-six types of knots.” Lotte chimed in. “Tying my shoelaces is trivial. I do not wish to be bothered to tie them… and… -driehundert- do not let my presence be subjective to the mission’s -driehundert eins- potential difficulties and challenges. Bitte, there is a team you must rely upon Prinzessin. You cannot go it alone.”

“Difficulties and challenges,” I repeated as we were jostled around the confines of an armored transport barreling down an endless stretch of weathered road leading to nowhere. “Marauding Bandits, Integrated Security? I wonder what she meant…?”

“Wonder what who meant?” A hand placed itself upon my head only to receive a battering in its advance.

“It’s nothing Slate. Mind yourself. I’m only here because I have to be.”

“Oh, you have to be? Whatever does that mean?”

“Look, I’m not playing the question game. Just keep to yourself, and this will be over before you know it.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one telling you the last part too?”

All I did was blink. I had only a vague recollection of the briefing, and one last glance towards Lux cheering our party as the doors closed behind me before I found myself strapped into the inner wall of a rickety bucket of bolts, an 'unarmed' armored personnel carrier or APC for short. My senses had finally returned to me after a rebound of the near solid suspension that sent Slate’s helmet careering with my temple not once, but twice in quick succession.

In a vain effort to rub away my blunt trauma induced migraine while keeping Slate outside of my personal bubble, I growled past him towards the person directly responsible for the mishap. “Driver, can you please stick to the road! I can sense the E.M. signatures of the landmines even inside this deathtrap!”

“I can’t sense the mines, but I still second the notion!” Slate hollered before hushing his tone and turning back towards my silhouette in the dim light. “Sorry about the bump to your noggin. I think it’s bad-luck anxiety for when we take Rookies into the field- err, not that you’re a Rookie, Bear Cat! It’s just a bad omen when you skip out on initiation! Everyone agrees!”

With a call to my thermals, I noticed the coalescence of bobbing heads all in agreement.

“I won’t apologize for not letting you all haze me before I signed up for this milk run. The way I see it; I’ll eat the door, I’ll eat the security, and we’ll be in an out before any old Sentry, A.I or Bandit is the wiser... and just in case they get in the way, I plan to eat them too.”

“Don’t say ‘Eat’ or you’ll freak the other’s out. They’re still getting used to the idea that sentient Lost-Tech is fighting for them since I’ve become apart of the crew. Besides, you just underwent maintenance. I doubt you want to get the old pipe cleaner special again. This isn’t just a trial run, and this isn’t a ‘go it yourself’ type deal either.”

“Only if you swear to me that a ‘pipe cleaner special’ is not a standard maintenance routine… please tell me that isn't true, I'm not kidding Slate!”

With only the glint of his teeth to go off, I could not discern a meaningful answer and my profuse sweating as a result added to the palpable humidity clinging to the musty air.

Stuffed like egg-laying hens cooped in their cages, six of us were fashioned to the inner hull with burlap straps as our only means of safety while we were continually shaken senseless due to the nature of a half-track’s almost non-existent leaf-spring suspension.

“I fucking hate treaded vehicles… give me something with two or more legs…” One of the soldiers to my right whispered to himself as he began in prayer while another murmured; “Why couldn’t I have been selected as a Canary Pilot. A shrapnel magnet beats this cesspit. Someone smells like body odor…”

For what seemed like hours, our ride forged on ahead into the thick of severe terrain and my previous request to utilize my extra-sensory ability to detect mines along the highway went unheeded.

Boredom.

Such an unfamiliar, ill-afforded sensation.

I wonder how many people in the world have ever felt the same given that it must be a luxury considering the circumstances?

It’s been an incredibly long time since I have even entertained the thought I could ever be bored, but there it was; nothing to see and nothing to do other than to stare at the vague outline of featureless bodies stuck fast in their seats -unless one could count listening to the stress creaks and pings coming from the APC’s chassis, but even then, there seemed to be a degree of repetition both fallible and droll.

From what I could make out between my damaged night vision that threatened to sear my retinas and the detail anemic thermal function was that my Squadron consisted of two Riflemen, a Combat Medic and an Engineer leaving the Scouting role to Slate and myself.

Were it not for the use of my thermal vision, I would never have been able to perceive the second APC and pair of escort Bi-Mechs keeping pace just a few meters at our sides as we had been loaded and sealed before hitting the surface.

Amid the array of distorted colors representing varying degrees of heat, one stood out with arms and a backbone of a temperature far higher than that of the others. In all likeliness, it was Lotte who remained motionless while the rest of the liquescent rainbows conversed with one another.

“I bet I could run just as fast as the APC…” I puffed loudly, breaking the icy veil of silence and the dampened mood encroaching on my mind.

“Bwahaha~! Bull~to~the~Shit~!” A woman’s voice hooted from the driver’s cabin. “This thing is top of the line considering it didn't come from our resident Bushranger! Be grateful this thing's sporting a seven liter diesel that we can actually fix if it without Aude's hands!”

“Hehe, my left foot puts out more measurable horsepower than this lawnmower,” Slate added as everyone grumbled once again in unison.

“Ya'll should be extra thankful we replaced the hole where the turret used to be with steel plate and not some flimsy tarp! You lot could be weathering this storm on foot, and it’s getting real nasty out there- not that you can tell when you got literal inches of hardened steel protecting you from the elements! I’ll take our Engineer’s B.O and this humid rank over the bite of mother nature any day!"

As I was left to ponder the potential scenarios that would require stripping the vehicle of its only viable weapon, mother nature bared its fangs in the form of a lightning strike directly overhead.

From the bolts to the rivets, everything, even my teeth shook from the deep reverberations of the thunder rolling outside as we continued to plow through the thick mud threatening to bog down the antiquated tank engine revving to a mere two-thousand rpm at its peak double-digit output.

“Was that a direct hit, Scarlet!?!” The Engineer called up from the rear, visibly shaken. “It sounds like we just bowled over an I.E.D back here, I think the right tread alignment is knackered!”

“Keep your hats on ladies and gents, we’re about to find out- we’re in our downhill descent!”

Deep within the transmission, a loud groan reverberated throughout the chassis as the weight of the entire vehicle had been crunched down into larger gears endeavoring to slow our snowballing inertia.

By the terrible noise of the engine crying out from what is known as ‘transmission braking’ and the noticeable heat generated by the old brake design and equally antiquated gearing, Logic offered a cue that a mere fifteen seconds something mechanical would likely fail and give way, but before the clock could count down even five of those seconds, the slick terrain took its toll.

“Fasten-up your seatbelts! Everyone-! Brace yourself!” Slate shouted as the rear end of the vehicle began to twist and slide. “Scarlet, get on the radio and tell APC-2 to find an alternate route! We can’t have them barrel into us when we reach the bottom!”

“Copy- I’ll get on it when I’m done wrestling the damn double clutch!”

“Fuck-!” Slate hissed as he manically unlatched his buckle and proceeded to reach towards radio receiver dangling inside the driver’s cabin. With his boot in my sternum and his arms stretched outright, I latched onto his belt to keep his body from jostling about the confines of the crew cabin and in that very moment, dread hailed from the sky.

[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: sᴜsᴘᴇᴄᴛ ᴍᴏʀᴛᴀʀ ɪɴᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ, ᴀʟᴇʀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅʀɪᴠᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴠᴇᴇʀ 25 ᴅᴇɢʀᴇᴇs ʀɪɢʜᴛ ɪᴍᴍᴇᴅɪᴀᴛʟʏ!!!]

[ᴏᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀ: ʙᴜᴛ ᴡᴇ’ʟʟ ʀᴏʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴘᴄ, ɪᴛ’s ᴛᴏᴏ ᴛᴏᴘ ʜᴇᴀᴠʏ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴜʀɴ ᴀɢᴀɪɴsᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴᴄʟɪɴᴇ!]

[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: ᴅᴀᴍᴀɢᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ ᴄᴀᴜsᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: ɪʀʀᴇʟᴇᴠᴀɴᴛ - ᴇᴛᴀ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ɪᴍᴘᴀᴄᴛ: 3.453 sᴇᴄᴏɴᴅs.]

Unable to speak outside of my head at the rate of fiber-optic synapses, I barked half an order to crank the steering wheel as directed just in time for the explosion to tear into the left side of the driver cabin.

And then our world was plunged into darkness.

[ᴘʀɪᴍᴀʟ ᴏs: ʜᴀʀᴅ ʀᴇsᴇᴛ ᴅᴇᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ, ʀᴇɪɴɪᴛɪᴀʟɪᴢɪɴɢ ᴘʀɪᴍᴀʀʏ ᴍᴏᴛᴏʀ ꜰᴜɴᴄᴛɪᴏɴ!]

[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴅɪsᴋ ꜰʀᴇᴇ-ꜰᴀʟʟ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛ ᴅᴇᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ, ɢᴇᴛ ᴜᴘ! ɢᴇᴛ ᴜᴘ, ᴅᴀᴍɴ ɪᴛ! ꜰʀᴀɢɪʟᴇ, ɢᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀss ᴜᴘ!]

Slate’s voice! Impossibly, it was coming from above me and for a moment; I thought to reach out to him only to realize I was unable to move.

“She’s pinned beneath the cab! Owen, hail APC-2 on your Radio and get them to winch this shit fast!”

“S-Sir!?” A voice quivered in response.

“Damn, this fucking electrical storm. Where’s Scarlet? Where’s Ben, Fritz and our Bi-Mech escorts?! Sound off Delta Squad! Whose still with me?!”

With every word, Slate’s voice became more and more frantic along with the rate that his heavy footsteps could be heard overhead sifting through the wreckage.

In an attempt to croak out to Logic for a damage report, I felt something sharp shift into me, threatening to puncture my ribs.

[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: sᴜʙʀᴏᴜᴛɪɴᴇ sᴛᴀʀᴛᴜᴘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ. ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪsʜ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ɪɢɴɪᴛᴇ ᴄᴏʀᴇ ᴀʟᴘʜᴀ, ᴏᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀ?]

[ᴏᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀ: ɪs ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴏᴘᴛɪᴏɴ? ɪ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴀʀᴄʜɪᴛᴇᴄᴛs ꜰɪɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴜs…]

[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: ᴡᴇ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴀsᴄᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴ ᴀɴ ᴀʙsᴏʟᴜᴛᴇ ᴄᴏʀʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴜsɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘʀɪᴍᴀʀʏ ᴀʙɪʟɪᴛɪᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʀᴄʜɪᴛᴇᴄᴛs ᴛɪᴍᴇʟʏ ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴀʟ]

[ᴏᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀ: ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ᴀʀᴄʜɪᴛᴇᴄᴛs ꜰᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ɪ ᴀᴄᴛɪᴠᴀᴛᴇᴅ ɪᴛ ʟᴀsᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ- ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴀs ᴀ ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴀʟ ɪɢɴɪᴛɪᴏɴ… ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɪ ᴘᴜsʜ ᴍʏsᴇʟꜰ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɪ ᴇxᴇʀᴛ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴏʀɢɪɴɢ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇss, ᴛʜᴇ ǫᴜɪᴄᴋᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴇ… ɪ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅᴏ ɪᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇ ᴀ ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ ʀɪꜰʟᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪ ᴍᴏʟᴅ ᴀɴ ᴍᴘ-40. ᴀᴄᴛɪᴠᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴄᴏʀᴇs ɪs ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ǫᴜᴇsᴛɪᴏɴ]

[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: ɪ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ᴀʟʟᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅɪᴇ, sᴏ ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴀᴄᴛɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ ɪᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴇᴘᴀʀᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴄᴏᴍʙᴀᴛ sᴄᴇɴᴀʀɪᴏs ꜰᴏʀ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴇ]

“Like hell you will!!!” I roared, pushing my way against the jagged metal until my fist broke through to the surface. “Don’t you fucking dare put me before these people! Do you want to see them butchered all over again!?!”

In one monumental thrust, I punted the remaining debris to a world bathed in liquid fire and a new form of torrential darkness.

At first, it was hard to make out the outline of the rear half of the APC that had been effectively split in two, but with the aid of a flickering light source, I could perceive the swaths of red streaked over its dull grey camouflage.

.

..

...

Blood...

...

..

.

Even in the pouring rain, I could still smell its metallic twang and differentiate it from the odor of diesel fumes.

“Fragile, Lass, thank fuck!”

Those words rattled me, pressing the resume button on the worst-case scenario panning into view.

That’s when I saw who had been standing in front of me. It was the Engineer, Owen, whose battered uniform had been shredded and drenched to the bone. His scruffy red beard had been singed entirely into curls, and from his scalp, blood produced a steady stream.

Unable to speak, my vision remained locked to a twisted piece of shrapnel that had penetrated his helmet; and by its size unquestionably into his skull.

“Girl- are you with me? Are you hurt?”

Shaking my head with uncertainty, I trotted over towards Slate who nearly broke from my side; preoccupied with something else entirely.

“Fucking shit signal here, shit signal there- cut us some fucking slack god-damn rain!”

In his hands, a radio receiver that had been severely damaged sparked and sputtered the unintelligible words of Lux distorted voice on the other end.

“Slate, where’s Scarlet? Is she…?” Owen dithered. “K.I.A?”

“Huh? OH- Fragile, thank the falling fucking stars!”

Turning about, Slate embraced me, ignoring the pleas of the Engineer entirely.

“This is all good and dandy for you Synth Folk, but we’re missing our Riflemen and our Medic! Slate listen up! What’s the word on our Driver!?”

“There’s nothing left…” He mumbled faintly, continuing the embrace I was unable to return.

“What do you mean!? Look at me when I’m talking to you! Damn it, Captain!”

“I said there’s nothing left! They’re all gone! Not just K.I.A, they were turned into pink-fucking-mist! There’s nothing left of the Driver’s cabin other than the metal you're standing on and look for a god damn second! Our Bi-Mech escorts are still falling back to Earth!”

As we looked to our feet, viscera and congealed blood seemingly popped into existence, when all along; it had been raining from the sky.

Unable to stomach the disembodied and somewhat recognizable hunks of flesh, Owen vomited over his boots a deep crimson waterfall.

“Slate!” I blurted suddenly, recognizing the signs of our Engineer’s internal injuries.

“Owen, sit down this instant! Your lungs are filling with blood! We need to pop a tube in his chest, or he’s going to suffocate! Fragile, see if you can pull any medical supplies from that hunk of metal over there! If you can’t find any a fuel line is hollow and rigid- it won’t be ideal, but it will do!”

Obediently, I compartmentalized the shell-shock the same way I had done many times before.

[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: sʜᴀʟʟ ɪ ᴀssɪsᴛ ʏᴏᴜ…? ᴀʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ɪs… ʟᴇᴛ ɢᴏ…]

Let go…

In the vectors of black concealing the carnage, a voice repeated itself.

“Let go, you mechanical *cough* freak! This is all your *ACK* fault!”

Toggling my thermals, I clipped a picture of a face from the impenetrable darkness. It was the presumed to be dead Medic, clinging onto a tattered backpack emblazoned with the universally recognizable red and white Swiss cross.

“You did this!” He screamed, lunging a metallic glint balled within his fist towards me as I released the backpack. “You tricked us into coming here! Just to get us all killed! Just wait till I *HURK*!!

“You talk too much.”

I couldn’t believe my eyes. My hand had taken the shard of metal he had used as a weapon and turned it against himself, straight into the carotid artery. Unable to own up to my actions, I then understood those words were not my own.

[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ sᴇᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʏ ʜɪs ʙᴏᴅʏ ᴡᴀs ɪᴍᴘᴀʟᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ sᴍᴇʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴇᴄᴀʟ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ? ʜɪs ʙᴏᴡʟs ʜᴀᴅ ʙᴇᴇɴ ʀᴜᴘᴛᴜʀᴇᴅ ɪɴ ʜɪs ᴄʜᴇsᴛ ᴄᴀᴠɪᴛʏ. ᴛʜɪs ᴡᴀs ᴀ ᴍᴇʀᴄʏ… ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪsᴀɢʀᴇᴇ?]

[ᴏᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀ: . . . . . . ᴅɪᴅ ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴄʜᴏɪᴄᴇ?]

[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: ɴᴏ… ᴛʜɪs... ᴡᴀs ᴍᴇʀᴄʏ.]

[ᴏᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀ: ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ’ᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ sᴀɪᴅ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴇʟsᴇ?]

[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: ᴘᴇʀʜᴀᴘs. ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴜᴛᴜʀᴇ; ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ʀᴇꜰʀᴀɪɴ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴠᴏɪᴄɪɴɢ sʜᴇʟʟ-sʜᴏᴄᴋ ɪɴᴅᴜᴄᴇᴅ sᴜʙᴄᴏɴsᴄɪᴏᴜs ʀɪᴘᴏsᴛᴇ]

Tentatively, I retrieved the backpack from the dead man's clutches and bolted off towards Slate and into the thickening deluge of rain and dwindling light.

[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: ɴᴀᴍᴇ: ʙᴇɴᴊᴀᴍɪɴ ᴀʟʟɪsᴏɴ, ʀᴀɴᴋ: ᴜɴᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ᴍɪʟɪᴛᴀɴᴛ sᴛʀᴜᴄᴛᴜʀᴇ, ᴀɢᴇ: 28. ᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ: ᴇxsᴀɴɢᴜɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ]

“Why are you telling me this…” I cried faintly into my arm as I held out the bloodied fruit of my labor.

[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: sᴏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ… ᴀɴᴅ…]

“And…?”

[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀsᴛᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ sᴇᴠᴇʀɪᴛʏ ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪ sᴀʏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ; ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙʟᴀᴍᴇ.]

“I didn’t say…”

[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: ɪ ᴀᴍ ʏᴏᴜ, ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴍᴇ; ɪᴛ ɪs ᴀ ᴡᴀsᴛᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴇꜰꜰᴏʀᴛ ᴛᴏ ʟɪᴇ ᴏʀ ʜɪᴅᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴡᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ]

*SNAP* *SNAP* Goes the fingers dancing in the light of flickering flames...

“Hey-hey, Fragile, I need you here with me- apply pressure here! No- look, give me your hands and push really hard here when I say so!”

Snapping his fingers once more, my consciousness rolled about as my body continued to obey his orders attentively.

“Stay with me Owen, don’t close your eyes on me buddy! C’mon, damn it, think of all the drinks you and your Mates haven't shared! Think of all the Dames you’ve yet to swoon with that soulless-handsome ginger mug of yours!”

“The deceased inside the APC’s deployment cabin should be able to provide an I.V transfusion through a vacuum line.”

The words that left my mouth, formed of my thoughts, tuned to my voice, were not my own. Through me, Logic spoke calmly and plainly as if the world had put itself on pause.

“Good thinking- wait a second- what if their blood types don't match!?” Slate shouted frantically as he guided my hands towards the epicenter of the bleeding before opening a palm-sized package of clotting agent with his teeth. “Can you really draw blood from a corpse without any blood pressure?”

“Provided we create a vacuum through the intravenous line with a syringe, yes. As for the incompatible blood types, I have already read the deceased’s dog tags. Ben Allison is O-Neg. Even if there were a conflict, this man is currently on the verge of dying. It would matter little for the time being while we prepare to provide lifesaving countermeasures.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Slate looking back at me as if he were distant even though we couldn’t be nearer; as if somehow, he knew. Like a theatrical play, I remained in the audience, unable to speak and without so much as the need to breathe.

“Why did you say it like that?” He cocked his head curiously just as he plunged the sterile tracheotomy tube into the man’s chest, draining it of a bloody froth.

For a moment, I pondered how Logic would answer, but as time went on it seemed that there would be no response.

That is until Slate pressed further.

“Fragile, look at me for a second- why did you say it like that? Why did you sound soo… I don't know- fucking creepy? Like, cut the shit for a second, are you hurt? You’re covered in blood. Did you hit your head?”

“You talk too much.”

Logic spoke an octave higher than my usual voice, causing my heart to beat off the rails with the recent scene of ‘mercy’ playing over and over in my mind.

[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ ɪ’ᴍ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴋɪʟʟ ʜɪᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ғʟᴇᴇ, ᴀʀᴇɴ’ᴛ ʏᴏᴜ?]

[ᴏᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀ: ᴅᴏ ɪ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴsᴡᴇʀ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪ’ᴍ ᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ?]

“Man sometimes you push my damn buttons, you know that!? Just hold this coagulant packing over his chest tube until it stops draining. If your arms get tired, we can switch off in a bit- I really need to repair this radio, my internal one doesn’t work worth a shit, and I’m guessing it is the same for you?”

“No need, I have already sent a full report to Habu.”

“What!? Already!? How!? You weren't briefed on the proper protocols! How did you even get past our encryption!?

“We have more pressing matters to attend to other than proper protocol, like the location of our second APC.”