“What does not kill you will likely try again”

Anon.

It took Trials some time to find the exit to the catacombs, though he couldn’t have said how long. At first he had hardly been able to crawl along the once-more dark passageways, but little by little he felt his body stitch back together, mend itself at such a rate that he could almost see it. The various cuts and grazes he had experienced were nearly all healed over, only the deep wounds in his shoulder blades still raw, though the flow of blood had ceased. His arm was regaining flexibility too.

Something had happened down there, something he hadn’t understood when Marv had explained it to him what seemed like years ago, back in London. The nanites had indeed been refurbishing, remodeling. Marv had told him how his muscle tissue was being reconstituted, the proportion of fast-twitch fibres in the muscle tissue vastly increased and flooded with ATP. Trials had just seen proof of that – in the fist-fight with Matthews the blows of both men had been far harder than could be delivered by any other person. Shallow dents in the stone floor bore witness to that fact.

But what Trials had experienced was more than that. Trials thought back to how Marv had tried to explain…

“Trials, it’s myelinogenesis!”

“My… what?”

Trials was still tired and weak, having only just got out of the hospital bed after being shot in the streets of London.

“Myelinogenesis! Uh…” Marv was gesticulating excitedly, searching around as if he could find the answer in the air. “Myelin, right. It’s what coats our nerve fibres. When it disappears, that’s… that’s what causes MS, neuropathy, I don’t know. I haven’t spent too long on that area of physiology. But I know the reverse is happening to you, now.”

“Marv, calm down. Relax, and tell me slowly. I don’t understand half of what you’re saying at the best of time.”

They sat down in a nearby office.

Marv spoke slower this time, but the excitement was still in his voice.

“Simply put, your nervous system is growing again.”

“Which shouldn’t happen?” interrupted Trials.

“…which shouldn’t happen,” agreed Marv. “That’s what happens in babies, in childhood. After adolescence, myelin production slows or stops. New neurons and nerve fibres are rarely produced, and follow the same paths as were formed previously.”

“So what are the bots doing to me? Screwing with my wiring? Sounds like I should be worried…”

“No!” Marv shouted. “No, no… They’re not rewiring you, they’re backing you up. I’ve never… no one has ever seen anything like this. You’ve developed new nerve fibres that overlap and run further than the originals. They’ve stimulated Schwann cell production, maybe. It should be a mess, but you’re fine. You are fine, right?”

Trials nodded slowly.

“You sure? Have you experienced any loss of bodily functions, any unexplainable palpitations? Sexual arousal?”

Trials was startled by the last.

“No, look,” explained Marv, “it’s important. The autonomic nervous system controls that too. I need to know!”

“No, no, everything is as usual,” Trials mumbled.

“Then, and I don’t know how, the nanites are encouraging redundancy. You have multiple ways of sending and receiving information, and your… your bandwidth, I guess… has increased exponentially! Have you noticed any effects?”

“Like what?” asked Trials, still shifting uneasily from the previous remark.

“I don’t know… decreased reaction times? Increased cognitive capacities? More detailed fine motor skills? Anything!” Marv was leaning eagerly in in anticipation.

“I… no. No, nothing. It’s all as usual.”

Marv was clearly deflated by the news.

“Well, keep an eye out for anything that might suggest otherwise.”

Trials went to meet his friends.

So was that it? Had his back-up kicked in? He’d moved and reacted faster than he would have thought possible, and it certainly hadn’t felt like he was in a normal frame of mind. The pain was just… gone, and in its place had been a cool calm he hadn’t felt at the most peaceful of times. He didn’t know. He’d have to ask Marv…

Trials realised he didn’t even know if Marv had been in the Ministry HQ when it had been hit. He hadn’t even thought to ask.

His wanderings eventually brought him to the exit, and he clambered out into the dark. It was already night, and judging by the stillness pretty late into it. This far out into the mountains there was little artificial light, and the stars above poured their light indifferently on the bloodied, worn out man who half-stepped, half-fell out of the church entrance.

A group of 4x4s sat parked raggedly down the dirt road. These must be what Matthews’ support had rode in on. Well, they sure didn’t need them anymore. He broke the window of one and pulled the lock open, climbing in and crouching down to hotwire it.

He was going to need to find Marv, and maybe Ray. He wondered how far he could trust Ray. After all, he was an employee of the Ministry, and a star one at that. How much did he really know?

Marv first. He wasn’t even fully employed by the Ministry anymore, hence why they had needed to bring him in after Trials had been so grievously injured.

He would be easy to find.