Asard pressed his hand to his head. Gasping at an agony that pushed itself deep into his mind. Body pressed against the empty building walls as fire scorched every piece of his body. The shell of the city loomed over him. The night loomed higher above. The moon sat thick in the endless night.
Cranes and iron outlined the sky as the city lights sparkled above. A beautiful arrangement of work shuffled over head as Asard pushed his body forward deeper into the veins of the city. His gasps and death throes muddled by the noise of the work overhead. His body shaking as he grasped his head and clung to it harder. As if his mind was about to shatter and his hands were the only thing keeping it together.
The lights felt brighter than they used to be. The noise sounded louder than what they should be. Pain felt clearer than what he was accustomed to.
What was this ailment that was taking over him?
“Ah--!” he snapped his eyes closed as he pushed his head against a concrete wall. Hands holding his head tighter as if it were going to break apart. An echo of his name whispered into his ear. A voice he did not recognize, but did.
“Asard.” The voice snapped into his head.
A gong vibrating through his very body. Pressing the pain further into his soul. Implanting a desire into him.
“Get away from me!” he whipped his body around as if the person had been standing behind him all this time. But the streets were merely empty with only the people above continuing their work. Ignorant to the suffering below. “Augh…!” the gong struck again, sending the pain vibrating through him once again. “Stop…”
Was he the one who closed his eyes?
Or was it this pain that made his vision go dark?
Was it this thing that squirmed its way into his body?
This infection?
This… power…
“Stop. Get out of my head.” Asard tensed his body, falling onto the floor. His head pushing against the concrete as if it would contain his head from exploding. The vibrations in his mind only grew. Only became stronger as everything around him became much more apparent and sensitive to his own body. It was if a virus was taking over him. As if something had entered his mind and was consuming his very fabric. Changing him.
Another gasp escaped Asard as he opened his eyes wildly to the world around him once more. There was distant shuffling of a spectator. Even if he had only heard one, it was as if he could see thousands. All their eyes peered down upon him as if he was on a stage. Their eyes focused on the actor upon their seats of the buildings. Another shot of pain vibrated through his body. Etching itself into his metal body.
“W-Who?” he shouted. The silence was his answer. “A-Ah--!” He shut his eyes again, pushing his head onto the concrete. Writhing upon the floor as his body shuddered in agony. It pulsated as if it was a living thing. A living thing in his mind taking him over.
The vision of Driftwood was clear in his mind. Not the last moments of his life that he saw before he was forced to retreat. No. The vision of his carcass in the sun. The vision of his guts sprawling from his chest and being torn apart from him. Being torn and ripped and organized into beautiful little vials by none other than Asard himself. As if it was his act that killed his companion. His hands that pulled away his tubes and wires and eyes and teeth and synthetic flesh.
Asard couldn’t help but feel the need to throw up. Even if he could not.
The pale rider was close.
“Can’t stand the truth of your actions?” a voice called out to him. This one was real. This one was familiar. This one he could place.
“Z-Zero?” Asard gasped. His jaw slacked in pain as he picked his head from the concrete floor. He writhed upon the ground like an animal that had been hunted. Shuddering. Gasping. Crying in pain. His vision was both blurry and clear.
There he was.
Zero.
Standing at the end of the alley. His hand outstretched as if waiting for him. A smile on his face as he stood next to Driftwood.
“Driftwood?” Asard gasped again. Picking his body up from the floor. The pain jolted through his body once more. But all he could do was focus on his friends who had long been dead. The fog in his head clouded his senses as he shuffled closer to Zero who stood beside his friend. They were smiling at him. Calling him to come closer and join them. Calling him to his heaven. But the pain would not stop. It only pushed further into his wounds like poison.
“Hurry up,” Zero smiled but his voice was anything but serene. “He’s leaving.” Zero’s gaze left Asard’s to Driftwood. The snake could only follow his gaze as he crawled his way closer. Agonizing breaths and pangs rattled his body as he could only trudge closer watching in confusion of what Zero meant.
It was only when Asard drew near it became clear what his former commander meant.
Driftwood’s body was no longer picturesque of the way Asard remembered him by. But rather broken and bloodied as if it was the flash of the memory of Asard ripping apart his beloved friend. His body dripped in oil, melting away into nothing more than gore for the other to see. The actions of Asard’s own hands. So vividly clear for him to watch as he fell to the ground in a mass of metal and pipes.
“Driftwood!?” Asard blurted out again. This time oil dripped from his mouth like drool. “N-No!” the giant snake tripped to the ground once more. Gasping as he lifted his hand up to reach for his friend who slowly faded away into death. “Don’t go! No!”
The hand that Zero lifted for Asard turned into an accusatory finger pointed at the snake. “You did this to him.”
“No!” Asard screamed once again.
“You killed him.”
“Stop it!” Asard wretched.
“Murderer.” Zero leaned in close. “Maverick.”
He lifted his body up once more, the agonizing pain taking him over again. In an instant he felt everything within his body fall apart into pieces. He gazed downward, watching as his internal machinery spilled to the floor. Watched as his pipes and wires and oil spilled forth into a beautiful floral arrangement. Pain swept over him again. Fear grasped his mind as he watched his body fall apart before him. He tried to pick up each and every part. Shoving them back into his hollow body as he gasped for air once more. Body overheating and mind washed with agony. His mind was splitting open. An agonizing scream of pain shot from his mouth as his internal organs slipped away and replaced with nothing. As if it was never there.
“Wha--- What’s happening to me!?” Asard screamed again staring at Zero who stood. A smile on his face. Welcoming. Calm. “You… You did this to me!” Asard screamed again.
It was in an instant that Asard jumped to his feet. Nothing else in his mind existed but to wrap his claws into Zero’s flesh and tear apart the machine. For him to rip apart his former commander, his former friend, his former savior. To grasp Zero’s chest and rip it open. To dig his snout into the other’s organs and tear it open with his teeth. Feeling each and every wire and fiber in each hand and mouth. Reveling in the gore of his mentor. Reveling in the ecstasy of letting go.
It was exactly what Asard did.
Zero’s body laid bare beneath him. The beautiful blood splattered across the alley. The beautiful heart torn apart from him. His rib cage cracked open for everyone to see. Intestines sprawled across from him as Asard’s teeth pulled them apart even further. Snapping them in two and watching each beautiful organ writhe. Pulsating. Beating. As if it were real. It was beautiful. This presentation of death. This end of a nightmare.
When Asard looked up, he saw Zero once more. Smiling down at the reploid bathing in the delight of death. The reploid looked at him in confusion at the still living machine.
What?
He looked down at his hands.
This is… blood.
Gaze looked down further to the body on the ground.
This isn’t a machine.
Eyes widened as the realization settled in his mind.
This is a human!
“N-No…” Asard stared down at the human. They were completely mutilated beyond recognition. Torn completely apart by Asard’s own doing. “I… I didn’t mean to! I… I…” Asard looked back and forth. Looking at the blood and gore splattered against the walls. Looking at anything that could possibly place the blame elsewhere. But there was nothing. Nothing but the shadow of Driftwood standing beside Zero as they smiled down at him. Their bodies stainless of anything except for the blood that stained their armored feet.
Was this Asard’s true nature?
Was this the true nature of the machine?
The blood dripped heavy from his beautiful green body. The puddle growing larger every second. Time seemed to have stopped as Asard only watched Driftwood and Zero stand at the end of the alley with only a smile on their face. For a brief moment his mind was clear. In that clarity, Asard was, for a moment, at peace with the image of his friends holding each other’s hands, beckoning him to join them. Was it heaven that they wanted him to go to? Or… somewhere else?
“Weston?” came another voice.
Asard shifted. Turning his head slowly around. Another human. The lumbering beastloid shifted his body. Unveiling the cascade of gore that his beautiful figure hid. The other human stood in shock at the curtain rising, seeing his beloved ‘Weston’ on the floor. No longer recognizable. Merely that of a mass of pulsating flesh.
It too whispered to him.
The towering beastloid did not run. Did not hide his true nature. Merely watched as the human stood shocked with fear. He approached the other. A smile reaching its way on his face. Slithering closer to him. Watched as he could not move. Watched as he could only shiver and shake knowing what will come next.
“Let me… help you…” Asard spoke. That clarity still buzzed in his mind. Making everything so very clear. He reached his hand out. The claws digging into the other human the same way he did this ‘Weston’.
Driftwood and Zero merely watched the carnage. The look of approval simply on their faces as the screams filled the air to join the chorus of the workers above.
“I refuse to believe that!” Stephen shouted as she stood from her chair. She watched Signas carefully. Hoping to believe that it was just some sort of joke that somehow managed to cook up in whatever free time he had. But when his face remained the same and everyone else in the room had the same somber look Stephen could hardly bear the weight on her shoulders. She grit her teeth, her fist shaking as she stared at everyone.
“I’m sorry.” Signas closed his eyes for a moment. Alexander passed the data pad to her. Even though his face remained neutral, she too could see the pain in his eyes.
Shakily, Stephen took the pad fearing the words she would read from the report. Her eyes stared down at the soft blue light. Consuming each and every word. Her thoughts were buzzing as every word was worse than the previous. The descriptions were overwhelming. The autopsy report even more so. Stephen could hardly comprehend the words that were being written, and eventually she had to close her eyes to place the pad down. A sick feeling welling in her mouth.
“Oh my god,” she breathed through her teeth. Her hand covering her mouth as she shook her head. “I can’t believe it…” she shook her head again. “How can you be so sure it was him?” she looked up at Signas. There was some sliver of hope, but even she knew there was hardly any hope. “It could have been someone else like him? Another reploid posing as him!”
Signas thinned his lips, shaking his head slowly. “The chances are highly unlikely. His specific model hasn’t been manufactured in decades.” He paused for a moment, looking to the side. “We also have video footage.”
“Show me,” Stephen stared at Signas hard. Watched as he shifted uncomfortable as he stood. As if unsure to reveal the contents of the video. “I want to see it with my own two eyes.”
Signas hovered his hand over the table. Pressing a few buttons. The image of the screen behind him changed. Showing a grainy video preview. He glanced up to Stephen, still unsure. “Are you positive?”
Stephen nodded her head, even if she did not want to see it. “I want to make sure its him. I want to make my own decision, not the one I read.” Signas paused for another moment as if unsure whether or not to show Stephen. But he relented eventually. He pressed his finger onto the button, letting the screen behind him play the abhorred events of last night.
Careful eyes watched as the video played an image of an empty alley. Watching as Asard came onto the screen gasping and writhing on the floor as if something had been pushing a knife into his head. Stephen gasped as she watched her fellow brother-in-arms speak to seemingly nothing. Screeching into the sky and writhe around as if something had been crawling under its metallic outer shell and controlling him. Stephen held her breath as a human silhouette entered the alleyway.
Turn away. Don’t go closer.
She watched as the video kept playing. Watched as Asard leapt on top of the human.
Don’t… Please Asard… Stop…
She watched as he ripped the human to shreds. Watched as the gore spilled out.
No!
She turned away, covering her mouth once again.
“Stop… I’ve seen enough.” She closed her eyes, waiting for Signas to stop the video. Alexander kept his face stilled watching the screen jitter. But even he could barely stand the sight of Asard’s actions. Basalt could hardly tear his eyes away from the scene that played out. X merely stood towards the side, not able to withstand the gore that blossomed.
Even if it was him on the screen. No one could believe that he was capable of such actions. It was unbecoming of him.
Stephen’s eyes opened slightly, staring down at the table in front of her. The reality of the situation becoming all the clearer to her. She glanced towards X who stood at the other side of the room with Signas. His gaze avoidant. But they knew the truth of what was to come.
“We have to kill him,” Stephen murmured. Her body wavered slightly as if she were a leaf. As if she would pass out at any moment. It wouldn’t have been the first brother-in-arms she killed. Nor would it be the last. The continued spiral of death. Ever turning in the cycle. Never ending. Carefully she fell back into the seat holding her gaze on the table. Slowly her hands moved to hide her face away. Another failure. Another blame. All upon her.
But that was what she was there for. To take the blame. To take the fall.
“There’s more,” Signas continued. Carefully he held up a thick plastic bag. Within was a shard of Asard’s many beautiful metallic scales. Likely to have fallen off during his rage filled murder spree. Carefully he handed the bag to Alexander to pass it to Stephen. She lifted her head only slightly to take the bag from Alexander. Carefully she stared at it, before placing it on the table with an expectant stare.
“Just a scale?” she furrowed her brows.
Signas shook his head. “No, it’s a virus.” Stephen flinched as she took her hand off the bag, as if the virus would manifest itself through the durable plastic. “He’s infected.”
There was a silence that pulled over the room. Slowly it was filled with a hollow laughter spilling over from Stephen’s lips. It started with a chuckle, only to end in a despair filled laugh. Everyone merely stared with faces taught with a frown, eyes filled with nothing but sadness at the agony that she must have felt in that moment. Soon her laughter died down into nothing but the choked back noises of what could have been a sob. Her face steeled to nothing but a thin frown like the rest of them. Her eyes held not sorrow but simply nothing.
Nothing. That was how she was supposed to feel.
She wondered if Zero ever felt this way.
“A virus?” she soon whispered.
“We’ve never seen anything like it before,” Signas carefully replied. He carefully gauged Stephen’s body language. “It’s coding is unlike anything we’ve seen before. It’s as if it’s rewriting the DNA code of him.”
Stephen pressed a hand to her forehead. Closing her eyes once more. “This is classified too, isn’t it? Because of this virus.” She laughed again, “No one is going to know why Asard died.” Slowly she dug her fingers into her armor, but her mental anguish would not subside. “I know you’re trying to tell me this to make me feel better about putting down a rabid dog, but he’s still my friend.” Her gaze met Signas’s again. Her eyes hard. Her soul even harder.
“X will be temporarily assigned to your squad.”
Stephen could only laugh again shifting her gaze back to X who stood quietly at the other end of the room. “What good will he do to us? He might be immune to viruses but we’re just cattle for slaughter.” She shrugged, turning away from the silent hunter. “I think it’s even sicker you’re making us kill him.”
Signas closed his eyes. Though he had become accustomed to such insults over the years, it did not make them an easier pill to swallow. Because it was always the truth they told. And he couldn’t do a thing to stop it. Sending hunters to kill mavericks, then hunters to kill hunters. The cycle of violence continued without end. And sometimes he wondered if it ever would.
“I know I am.” Signas could not deny this truth. He could take the fall for any hunter. He could take the blame for anything anyone did. But sometimes, it wasn’t enough. And sometimes, he had to ask more than what anyone else was willing to give. He supposed this was one of those times. He wondered if it would ever be the last. “I’m afraid there is nothing I can do. You’re the best we have, and the only ones capable of killing him.”
There was a deathly silence that wafted its way through the room. The wake to the soon funeral.
Stephen shook her head, pointing a finger towards X as if in an accusing manner. “No. He is.” Her lips were firm in a frown as she glared at X who seemingly tried to disappear into the room. “Or… I guess he was.” She barked a laugh with a shrug as she stood from her seat. Her hand swept the table, gathering the paperwork with clenched fists. A finger pointed towards Signas, accusatory as well. “You better start looking for a new commander after this is over, Signas. I’m not going to deal with this shit any longer.”
Alexander swept his gaze from the table towards Stephen. His mouth agape in shock. “You don’t really mean that?”
“I’m done cleaning up Zero’s mess.” Stephen merely turned towards the door. Her face hard but still betraying the pain set cold in her heart. “Once I kill that son-of-a-bitch who did this to me and Asard I’m through with all of this. I’ll even give you the gun to do it yourself, X.” She didn’t wait for a response from Signas or X as she stepped through the door and exited the room. Leaving everyone alone in silence.
Signas could only heave a sigh as he attempted to keep a firm and professional demeanor. But everyone could tell that it was beginning to get to him. Unfortunately, reploids like him didn’t get breaks.
X finally took a step forward. His eyes carefully looking at Basalt and Alexander who quietly read through the paperwork and data pads sprawled across the table. He was lucky they did not see him with contempt as Stephen did. Or perhaps they didn’t show it.
“Signas, sir.” X was soft spoken but exhausted just the same. “Are you sure this is a good idea sending 0th Squad with me?”
“There aren’t many with their expertise,” Signas eyed Basalt and Alexander as they gathered the reports together. They both turned to exit, their bodies side by side. “I’m sorry for getting you involved, X.” He breathed a sigh as his body remained unwavering.
“Commander?” X furrowed his brows.
“Eurasia. Area Zero. 0th Squad.” He listed the missions as if jotting down a shopping list.
X could only give the other a small comforting smile. But there was nothing quite comforting about it. The room reeked of death. Both their hands bloodied with the same blood. X more than Signas. His was arm deep. “It’s not really you to regret things, Commander Signas.”
“No.” Signas shook his head. “I don’t regret. But I can’t help but second guess.” Signas glanced at X, prying his eyes away from the paperwork. “We cannot change the past, but we can only hope to learn from it.” He pushed another button to quiet the screen behind him. Shuttering the memory of Asard’s murder forever.
“I suppose your right,” X sighed as he fixed his own paperwork on the table.
His hand paused at a photo that fell from the paperwork. A picture of Asard’s mugshot from when he joined the Maverick Hunters. He looked youthful in his appearance. Almost smug. When X stood straight, he caught a glimpse of his own appearance in the reflection of the screen beside him. Even if he remained youthful, X was nothing but that anymore. The scars of war had hardened onto his face. The perpetual smile turned into a frown. His eyes were heavy with the endless slaughter. His body no longer held itself with any joy but only the stiffness of a soldier.
A soldier.
Was that what he had become?
He was beginning to look more machine than human.
“Is there no other way?” X muttered. His eyes took to Signas once more. “Can’t we capture him and try to cure him? He’s just sick…”
Signas’s lips thinned. His eyes drifted to look past X. “It is like Stephen said. We’re putting down a rabid dog.”
“It’s just cruel.”
Signas did not answer. There was no answer that needed to be provided. X already knew what would have been said anyway. It was the same song. The same dance. The same conversation. Over and over again.
X wasn’t sure anymore that the person who stared back really was him.
Zero… do you think you’d recognize me?
Even if he didn’t… He still wished to see his friend again. Perhaps he would come in to save the day.
Like he always did.