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If you were to have asked any one of Caleb’s friends last year if he was going to still be here next year, you’d probably expect to hear praise and “well, of course not, I bet he’s probably gonna move away from the academy and get a great job in the D.A.A., right?” or other things along those lines. But the reality now stems much farther from anything that could have been.
Getting off the Skyhaven train to Linkon, he took a taxi to the empty Bloomshore district park. He felt as if his body were going on autopilot, like if his actions were already chosen, and all that was left was to just let things play out.
“Tonight’s the night. It’s over. I’m done. I’m done.” Trudging in the dimly lit park, he muttered to himself repeatedly, his eyes unblinking under the softly lit streetlight poles as the empty night welcomed him like arms awaiting a reciprocated embrace after a long deployment in deepspace.
There was something about tonight that kept him at ease. Winter in Linkon is truly a sight for sore eyes, but no one mentions the side of Linkon that sits empty. No nightlife. Abandoned, maybe, forgotten, but tended just enough to keep it from falling apart or being completely claimed by nature’s ivy grasp.
The snow looked pristine. Untouched, not a single footprint or leaf other than could be found on the snow-ridden pavement as it lightly crunched beneath his boots, shoving a hand into his pocket to take out a full prescription bottle of ibuprofen and a Swiss Army knife—although technically a Farspace Fleet knife. Same function, different logo.
How ironic.
It feels like just yesterday when he’d run into Zayne on a visit to the medical checkup facilities in Skyhaven. Funny how a boy he’s hated almost his entire childhood melts away at the moment he knows Zayne’s not a threat to his connection with her—she wasn’t there, after all. Break some ice (Occasionally in a literal sense if Zayne can’t control his evol), reconnect, go out for drinks, and tell each other something reassuring like “I’ll always be there for you dude,” or some other sappy bullshit.
Funny how time flies.
Caleb stands at a railing to the lake that stays frozen still in front of the park. Reminiscing about life is hard when you barely remember it anymore. Faces surrounded him for a vast majority of his life, but they all blur and pass each other in a mix of memories that slip through his fingers as he tries to grasp his experiences, attempting to piece together what little he even remembers at this point. The only face in the masses he could see clearly was hers. Outstretched arms welcoming him back from Skyhaven and back to Linkon, even if it was for a day. Her arms. Her embrace.
Arms that could never be replaced.
Arms that died the day his world went to hell.
Arms that left the light of his life the moment his life flashed before his eyes in fiery combustion.
Her.
“I’m sorry I’ve been gone, pipsqueak,” he whispered to himself, eyes glazed over the icy expanse of the lake, dwindling lights from the apartment complexes and skyscrapers shining in the night like stars in the distance. His chest ached thinking about her—not from his rigorous chest workout the day before.
Remembering her doesn’t help; it only worsens the pain.
Since that day last year, Caleb has only found suffering where healing should have been.
Poor guy can’t catch a break, huh?
Pain disrupts the chip's signals, he’s discovered throughout the year. Pain was numbing everything he had gone through, numbing the feeling he felt when he was forced to watch her funeral from a distance, not even attend.
“At least my coffin was next to hers.”
Unscrewing the cap with no hesitation, Caleb took a handful of pills in one hand, shoving it all into his mouth before scooping up some clean snow to wash them down fast. Taking off his coat and pulling out his knife, Caleb felt his bare arms scrape against the lashing cold of winter, already tracing the edges of the main arteries in his wrists. Shuffling through the cold winter darkness, a wave of warmth befell Caleb’s body. Everything was numb—maybe frostbite, maybe the painkillers. Not even he knew anymore.
“I’m sorry.”
With that one action, a shock of pain coursed through his arms, blood dripping rapidly on the snow surrounding him, staining it a deep crimson as sensations and waves of affliction washed over him with every heartbeat and throb of his arm.
The snowfall felt like it slowed down; his breathing was getting shallower as the snow around him stained in vibrant red hues, arteries gushing blood like a crimson waterfall, the ebb and flow of his pulse changing as he waited for his death.
Counting down his freedom.
His eyelids fell heavy as the streetlights flickered above, the night sky empty—— save for the North Star pointing in the vacant new moon’s darkness.
His death was interrupted by a mind-splitting headache as the Toring chip blared violently through his head, like a noise only he could hear, as he writhed in pain, he shouted in pain, hands fisting in his hair as he tried to ground himself through the pain. Shutting his eyes tight, numbers and words burned into his corneas. Flashes of red, blue, and green filled his gaze as he grunted and dug his fingers into his scalp harder.
Speaking of pain…
How long ago did he cut himself?
Should’ve bled out by now.
Jeez. So much for a peaceful death.
Opening his eyes once more, there wasn’t a void, a new life, an inferno, or pearly gates awaiting him. It was the Skyhaven test chambers.
If hell is real, then this is a fate far worse than whatever lies in there. Arms and legs bound apart and outstretched in a strained effort, his mind too blurry to respond or react properly to his situation, but only to stay still and suffer.
“Did you seriously think we’d let you die?”
Please don’t.
“How dare you try to escape command and EVER, X-02!” The voice lashed out, stronger electrocutions jolting through Caleb’s arm and spreading through his body in burning pain. Bruises ached as the wind was knocked out of him in a particularly harsh jab at his side,
Don’t take her away.
“You’re never leaving.”
I’m sorry.
“Looks like we got more trials to run now, X-02,”
Anything but that.
“Look at me, damn it!”
Words choked in his throat; he wanted to scream. He wanted to yell and cry in pain, but that wouldn’t do anything to stop the pain, nothing to end his suffering. They’d just pump him full of adrenaline if he passed out or even neared exertion.
Nothing will save him, and he was willing to accept it. No matter how many times he could kill himself, they’d still bring him back for more. Nothing but a bag of flesh and bones that they could dissect over and over again and play around with, their perfect little colonel for the fleet.
Isn't it so interesting the way they had branded all that they touch? Something about EVER’s mark on their subjects. Dehumanizing. How the toring chip could wipe away everything Caleb’s ever known in an instant. How he hasn’t felt true joy in months? How captivating.
He knows something’s missing. Something’s wrong. But he can’t remember. There were these guys in the aerospace academy… What were their names again..? Gideon and hat trick? Geronimo and Patrick? It’s all a blur now. They’re all blurs—just like everything else. It’s all clumped together as containment. Experiment. Sanitize. Repeat.
Containment. Experiment. Sanitize. Repeat.
Containment. Experiment. Sanitize. Repeat.
Containment. Experiment. Sanitize. Repeat.
ConTAINTment. Experiment. Sanitize. Repeat.
Containment. Experiment. Sanitize. Repeat.
C0nTægr=řhets————
Ajsdfa242—07—_02—-_
> containment success.
It’s been a few days, a few arm modifications, and a few skin grafts later, he was free to go back to his apartment. As if nothing happened. As if nothing häqpen3fwsqdw. NotHi- N0TH!NG H@PPEN3D._
Nothing happened.
Dropping his hat, his arms ache for a feeling, the numbness coursing through his body as his ears ring out once more, the underlying pain in his head growing as he feels his heart thud against his chest every second—a black hole where her soul should have stayed with his.
OTTO called out cheerfully, as if nothing had happened at all—because nothing did. Caleb was out on a deepspace exploration voyage, with the rest of the squadron under his command. A fabricated reality veiled the truth of the life he lived. Jeez, this stupid little robot has no clue. No fucking clue as of what’s going on.
“Good evening, Colonel Caleb!” OTTO chirped, whirring as it hovered near him in the air.
“Not this again,”
“As an update from your workout plan from this week, your pectoralis majoris has increased by 0.937cm in diamete-”
“OTTO, deactivate,” Caleb called out to the floating bot, landing back down to its designated charging port as he sat down onto the couch of his apartment with a breathy sigh.
It’s been a day or two since he ate, maybe more since he could hardly remember what or when he even ate. The empty void of his stomach stabbed and clawed at him from the inside out as he ignored his body’s desperate pleas for nutrition—anything at this point, even a bite of an apple would suffice, his favorite.
Favorite.
Used to be his favorite.
Apples, just like life, had lost their passion and flavour a long time ago. Crisp, red, juicy, now feeling rotten, sandy, and alien in his mouth now as he found himself staring at the apple sitting on the coffee table before him, tempting for a bite, although he found himself unbothered and unwilling to engage. Just sitting.
Standing up from the couch, Caleb marched on to his bedroom, as if he just had to get there as soon as possible, no reasoning why, until something caught his eye on the bedsheets.
A letter, alongside a wrapped box—no, a present.
Who the hell broke into my apartment?
Sitting on the mattress, Caleb took the letter, his name signed on the outside of the envelope as he pulled the letter out;
To our most appreciated Colonel Caleb Xia,
We know you’ve been working hard and pushing well past your limits, Colonel Xia, so we’ve decided to give you a gift of sorts. You’ll find assortments of interest to you within the box.
Enjoy them while they last.
–––––––––––
Yours truly,
EVER
Putting down the letter, Caleb brought his attention to the wrapped gift on his bed. What day even was it? Christmas probably passed right?
“OTTO, what day is it?”
“OTTO? Oh wait.” Caleb had deactivated the little clanker a minute or two ago. Well this is why wristwatches have dates on them. 28th of December, okay.
Wait—28th of December. He’s been stuck in that facility for 8 days.
“They made me miss Christmas for that? Jeez.” Paper tore beneath his touch as the wrapping revealed a cardboard box, opening to find a death certificate, pictures, and clothes. Her clothes. Her death certificate.
Oh my god.
Assortments of interest? The items did pique his interest, but something in him twisted sickly. She was dead–not ‘dead’ like him, just rotting in some coffin as he struggled to find his way back to you. They had promised him that she would be taken care of just like him–mechanical pieces and bits all put together just to reunite them. But no.
A burning ambition born of lies propagated to his mourning heart, breaking as he realized that she was nothing but an old memory now, as he’d be forced to move on with life. His own love for her had turned into a leash that snapped him into his place in Skyhaven. The one beautiful thing left in his mind was a weapon against himself, but he couldn’t forget her. Even if it’ll save him from more pain.
She’s alive, right? Right? This is a joke, R1GH+r1JRIT RIGHTA-01EFICB372AA9X-02
Right。yes. Definitely.
Her name was something he could only remember now, even if every day he felt himself losing her more and more to the grasp of EVER’s influence.
Numbness.
Emptiness.
System shutdown commencing in 5…
Wait.
4…
Wait, not now I-
3…
PLEASE.
2…
Oh god.
1…
I’m sorry.
Powering down…
Shutdown successful.