Prelude: IX

September 21, 2025

Dear World.

Forgive me, for I have sinned. You have been claimed as the one true hope of humanity. According to those who matter, we have nothing else to show for our labour. I know otherwise, or at least I believe that I do. This world is finite, this life as well. Humans are fragile, and no matter how much we try to fool ourselves into believing otherwise, we will always die. Because of this, I can say that this world that we live in is finite. I wish TSC listened. I wish my superiors listened. I wish that I listened to myself, enough. Sadly, I have no more thoughts on this. My research has been ridiculed, over and over again. I tell others that the world that they take for granted will eventually die on them. Fools. If they do not choose to listen to me, then I will do my own work. The bodies of Ten will bring light to this decrepit planet. I will take them. I will train them. It will happen as per the Book. So if I cannot create a world for those to live in, why can I not save this one?

 

“Kuh.” My forehead lands on the metallic plane, and I take in a slow breath. The scent of sanitary steel besmirches my nostrils, and I close my eyes slowly. A ballpoint pen drops out of my fingers, landing on the reflective, stainless-steel with a light clatter. I slowly continue my drawing of breath: in, out, in, out. A singular eye opens, staring at the black-coated book on the desk, and I chuckle. The small sound spreads out into the room, only slightly drowned by the whirring of the fan. Closing it once more and placing a hand onto the cold metal, I push myself back up and sit backwards in my seat. What have I done? Am I really as serious as I thought I was when I wrote those words? They just flowed from the pen for me; had I thought them over? Dry laughs; then I smile, opening both of my eyes. The white-washed ceiling comes back into focus for me, spreading out as if to push away the darkness that covered my eyes. “Utter... bullshit.” My voice disappears into the silence of the room, rough tones emanating from my throat. Yes, I know it to be bullshit; I had convinced myself of this a long time ago, yet I still continue. Leaning forwards once more, my eyes glance at the open notebook and study it carefully. That book, it holds all of my secrets. I will have to re-write a copy once I return home. Smiling internally yet with a grim expression, my hands take the book and slowly close it with a soft ‘pat’ noise, closing my eyes and chuckling. One of my hands leaves the book and reaches down to the drawers in the desk, softly gripping the knob. I pull, and it comes free, opening up into an empty void. Slowly placing the book back into the desk, I shake my head. I have always had a preference for that which is paper and pen. Unlike the computers, they have no way of monitoring those. That is why my personal files are in paper, written by my own hand. Even if you print and delete, an imprint is left that they read. I hate this Company, but I am bound by my own design.

 

Like the pages of that book, memories flicker back and forth before my eyes. It’s like watching a reel of tape, over and over again. The daydreams have been occurring more often than they used to; it frustrates me. They say that, on the day you die, your memories will flash before your eyes... but I cannot die now, can I? Not with... a world to save. Gritting my teeth, I place a hand on the desk to stabilize myself, to stop this mental torrent of thought. It hurts to see all of these. All forty-six years of my life. I think of my first birthday, when I knocked over my cake and simply laughed about it. I see my first day of school, screaming at my mother in an attempt to convince her to leave me at home. Then I see graduation, that day with my friends and the love of my life. Yes, my wife of all those years, a woman who still sticks with me to this day. I remember the day of Terminus’ attack and subsequent takeover. I remember the day that Adam was born, and Lilith. They’re my two beautiful children, the apples of my eye. Then I found out about Attunation, and the Ten. All of them, images that spread out before me as if telling me that my end is near. A small ‘kuh’ noise leaves my throat, and I turn away from the burgeoning images, trying to shake them off. This project, it was my greatest achievement. I had attempted to work for funding, and yet it seemed to be to no avail. Sighing softly, my heart suddenly leaps with an insanity-driven shock.

 

Bang.

 

BA-THUMP.

 

Two sounds unify themselves, my heart and the door. I had made it a habit to lock it, though people tended to stay away. Turning slowly towards the door, it makes that noise once more, causing me to jump again. Narrowing my eyes, my body moves as if on autopilot, reaching for the drawers and sliding it out. Fumbling within the wood-and-steel coffin, I feel a metallic guard and grip it. It felt right, and so I pull it out and look at it with a careful gaze. The first thing that catches my eye is the design of the dragon, etched into the side of the barrel. With lips and teeth that spewed fire, this dragon curled down the shaft of the pistol’s barrel, reaching the trigger and wrapping around it with its tail. Green-and-red adorns these etched lines, painted with the utmost care and covered with shining varnish. The name is engraved into the handle as well, ornate letters spelling out the words: Draco Veritas"The Dragon of Truth. I had this revolver named as such for the simple fact; once a bullet of its fire is lodged into your brain, you will understand the truth of your situation. It is futility at its finest, Death standing at your door.  As my thumb curls over the curves and dips, a grim smile comes to my face. This is a strange treasure of mine, but I cherish it either way. Bang. The noise again, and I stare at the door once more. They are not a friendly party, I can ascertain that much.

 

“Markham!” I grit my teeth and tense my muscles at the sound of my surname. That voice I hear is brutish and cruel, the epitome of human stupidity. Yes, they are the mongrels that Terminus has hired to patrol their corridors. Men like that have no other place in this world, it seems. “This is Terminus Security!” Yes, I get that already, there is no need to tell me that much. Instead of responding, my body moves as if it were a snake’s, sliding off the chair and hiding behind one of the many solid benches that litter the room, curving around this circular hemisphere. My former military training flickers in front of my mind, and I remember exactly what should be coming next, narrowing my eyes slightly. Another loud noise causes my heart to jump, and I prepare myself for the incoming assault. “Get that C4 in there! Take it down!” I can only chuckle slightly. So, they have a half-brain after all, do they? I let a smirk crawl across my features, before tensing up and the sounds of loud beeping noises. My coat hangs low around my body, and checking my pockets I find that I had unconsciously stashed a second magazine to keep my revolver loaded. Pushing up against the desk, I feel the entire room shaken by a loud explosion, one that causes my ears to ring; despite my distance from the blast zone. That fact alone both comforts me and worries me: They should be distracted by the explosion itself, but it also attests to the fact that they’re using more complex methods. These people aren’t ones that are allowed to learn of such powerful items to use. And yet, after that explosion, nothing happens. Instinctively, I tense further and check over the edge of the desk with a single, widened eye. Nothing, not a peep. That makes me wonder as I return to my spot.

 

Tink, tink, whssssssssssh... Ah, gas. My immediate reaction is to place my hand over my face, waiting for the gas to come close enough for me to discern its scent, and therefore its antidote. Ah, almonds, yet with a small hint of chocolate. An arsenic mixture; developed by Cless of Ward D3. He had, of course, shared some of his secrets with me, so an antidote was no large issue in my case. Foolish men, attempting to gas a scientist who understood everything of military tactics, and far greater than they themselves did. Closing my eyes, I wait for a second or two, preparing myself for their assault. They’d be putting on their gas masks by now, and as I look down at my watch, I can already guess what time they’d be syncing to, and how long they’d be waiting for my body to hit the ground. A small, slightly-crazed laugh leaves my lips, but I manage to hold most of the noise in. The pleasure of battle was something that I’d forgotten, getting your body in the heat, in the zone. It was something glorious that I’d never forge"Ten seconds. I had kept a wary eye on the watch, and was now preparing myself to move. I slide slowly around one of the benches, making sure to keep myself at a high speed yet not make enough noise to be noticed. Looking up and around, I realize that the vents are at places that are inaccessible by normal people; there are no windows to speak of, due to the nature of this laboratory. All underground, it is. It makes the Capital look far nicer than it really is.

 

Five seconds remaining. Skirting one of the desks, I make a quick dive in order to bridge a small gap between them. One of the men looks up to a noise, but misses me. Growling to myself slightly, I push against this desk now. They’ll go straight for my workbench, so I’ll make sure to aim for that spot when I can. Three seconds. Two, one, now. Silence falls through the room and is broken by loud footsteps. “Move, move, move!” Peeking over the desk, I watch them start to hunt for me, looking downwards as if they’d just find a body lying on the white-washed floor. Typical; of course they’d think I’d just be nice and drop dead for them. I return to my place behind the bench, and look up to see a man just rounding the corner. He shouts out, and I raise the pistol, pulling the trigger. A single loud noise explodes out, and his mask cracks. I watch a red hole grow between his eyes, and the man collapses, landing directly in front of me. Red liquid flows out of the hole and starts filling up the mask, pouring out onto the ground. Pushing myself back and away from him, I return to a stable spot on the desk and lean up over the desk, firing three times.

 

Three men shout out, their heads taken by the three shots that I fired. The first man steps backwards and lands on one of the benches. The second one simply collapses into a heap, while the third one pushes a couple of casks onto the ground, creating loud shattering noises. Gritting my teeth, I duck back down behind the desk, just as their commander fires a short burst of fire at me. Grinning inwardly, I shout out with glee. “My friend, no warning shots? I’m disappointed!” He makes an estranged cry, before firing a second range of shots. The sounds of bottles shattering above me causes to shy away from the noise slightly, watching the liquid contents splash onto the floor, mixing with the broken pieces of glass. A shout of annoyance, and I jump away from the spot, diving across the ground and sliding the pistol up into the air. Two final shots are fired; the loud rounds from the subsonic weapon loosing themselves into the unhindered air. The first shot, though fired inaccurately, succeeds in slamming into his kneecap. The sounds of mixing lead, blood and bone become one in my ears, and his scream of pain causes me to chuckle. As I look for the destination of the second bullet, my eyes widen. A trill blasts my mind, making me cringe in pain.

 

Ugh, that alarm... A sudden urgency overtakes me, and I push up off of the ground, sprinting towards the door without any heed as to the situation. The Captain on the ground groans, firing off a few shots in my general direction; I feel a bullet pierce my leg and scream in pain, diving out of the way as I do so. My body rolls out of the door, and as I kneel there bleeding from the thigh, the true purpose of the destroyed artifice is revealed. It’s a fail-safe, in case of exposure to unwanted sources of harmful materials and concepts. The door closes and seals; and the room itself, suddenly flash-burned. No, it’s wrong to call it a flash-burn. That is what happens when something is burned within a few seconds. This took a half-second, and then died. Not even that, I kid thee not.

 

“Rrgh...” Placing fingers onto the injured leg, I try to place pressure onto the bleeding wound. By now, a few men and women in white coats are crowding around me, as they haven’t seen me in over six months. Being but average scientists, they do not understand my predicament, instead assuming that I am the criminal. That shows itself rather easily, especially when they start shouting out for guards. No, I cannot bother with that now. Raising the pistol to my side, I flick bullets into the revolver’s cartridge, loading it and flicking it downwards with a somewhat confident smile on my face. Not long, and I can return to my family. That is the only thought on my mind. From the day that Terminus brought me in, I was wishing to return home. Closing my eyes for a second, I break into a run despite the injury on my leg. My heart beats rapidly in my chest, and as I continue onwards, the long circular corridor seems to stretch on forever. I haven’t seen more than my room for six months; this is almost foreign to me in some ways. Each step I take hurts, but I have to continue onwards. I laugh, shrill tones spreading out before me, losing themselves in the winds; I laugh in order to retain what little sanity I have left. The pain is all that reminds me of my life, and the laughter is the tether that keeps my mind on this plane. I’m beginning to think like one of the Ten. Funny, how things turn out like that...

 

Placing a hand onto the metallic plate of the elevator, I hurriedly press the button to rise up. This entire complex is underground, so I cannot do anything without rising to the sky. It opens up before me, empty. This small box is strange, in my eyes. It allows me to go to places that I wouldn’t be able to without a month’s digging, and yet it takes no more than thirty seconds to rise to where it needs to go. A soft ‘ding’ sound informs me that I may enter, and I take three steps forwards, turning around and calmly placing my finger onto the “G” button. The metal doors slide shut in front of me, and the elevator begins to rise into the air, driven by a cable of steel. I close my eyes, taking slow and deep breaths as the box makes quiet humming sounds. However, as my hopes and this box rise, I feel my stomach begin to sink. Everything that I felt before is now disappearing, and I realize why. It cannot be this easy. There is no way that I could just escape this place with my life, there has to be something more there. As the box grinds to a halt, my fingers brush the polished metal an instant before it opens; my eyes widen, and I drop to my knees, crunching on the floor of the elevator.

 

There are f-fifty, no a hundred men before me now. Their badges gleam in the dull light shining from the lamps above their heads, and I can only stare in wonder at the soldiers that are both kneeling and standing, pointing the long barrels of rifles towards me as a wall of death and destruction. I swallow bile that has risen into my throat. “Kuh...” A man walks before them, long blonde locks dropping down by his head; a soft smile on his face. I watch the black coat curl around his body, realizing it to be a deep red, wondering why my sight is beginning to fail. It is at that point that I realize that the edges are wet with tears, and my heart is beating rapidly in my chest. There is nothing left for me. Any man in this situation can realize it to be over; I have done so quickly, without any form of resistance. The smiling man in front of me likes this, it seems. His footsteps resound within my ears, and I can only watch with a blank expression as he kneels down in front of me and softly caresses my face.

 

“Don’t cry.” I gasp, but cannot move away from the touch. Those fingers feel like poison, needles pushing into my flesh. I cannot react, nor can I retort. “You should be happy, Doctor Aaron Markham.” He emphasizes the word ‘Doctor’, mocking me with his tone. Reaching down to my side, he produces the weapon from my shaking and numb fingers, smiling as he studies the inscription. “Draco Veritas... The Dragon of Truth?” A laugh. That man in front of me, he laughed at the name of my most prized weapon. I cannot help but feel pure hate for him. He flicks forwards the barrel, checking the weapon to make sure that he has enough rounds to do the job. A cruel smile comes before me, and he places the pistol into my hand, smiling softly. “Shall I let you in... on a little secret?” He leans closer, blood-red eyes closing slightly as those cruel lips twist into a further grin, speaking deadly words as he does so. “I’m one of the Ten. Oboedientia Perpetua, Perpetual Obedience. That is the name of my specific Attunation. Can you guess what it does? How about... I show you?” He smirks, and places a finger onto my right temple. “Kill yourself for me, please. Right here.” The finger taps my temple quite sharply.

 

Time stops. My heart... stops. My breathing, it recedes to nothing. I feel his words penetrate every fibre of my body, streaming within the very fabric of my soul. I had researched the powers of the Ten; I had not expected the Perpetual Obedience to be within this very building; to be on the side of the Terminus. However, that too was soon erased from my mind. Every syllable now resonated within my body, replacing my nerve signals and starting to move my very limb. My arm, though connected, moved on its own, slowly raising itself into the air and holding the heavy pistol in a proper grip. Before my very thoughts left, all I could think about was Adam. Adam and Lilith. My children. The apples of my eye. As the pistol lifted through the air, I pushed every last ounce of my will into thoughts of them. Images of them appeared in front of me, and I slowly turn my gaze towards the boy with the Perpetual Obedience. “Y-you... what is your... name?” He blinked, and laughed softly.

 

“I suppose that it wouldn’t hurt to tell you now, would it?” He laughs. I’m not amused. “My name is... oops. Hold on, I’ve forgotten.” The want to know is destroying me now, but the pistol is pressed against my temple; I feel the cold steel against the dip. My finger slowly pulling the trigger backwards, preparing for my final demise. “That’s right. My name is"“ BANG. I am simultaneously deafened and hear it all at once. I immediately understand, before forgetting. Blood splatters against the steel box, and my body crumples without warning, bleeding onto the cool floor. The boy chuckles and grips the pistol, pulling it out of my lifeless fingers and sliding it into a pocket with a grin plastered onto his face. “Oh, it appears that I was too late. My apologies, old man.” As he turned away from me, his gaze was turned backwards. “See you in Hell, with the rest of them...” His footsteps clattered on the tile floors, the guards parting to let him by...

 

Goodbye, Adam.

 

Goodbye, Lilith.

 

I will cherish this life we once had, and make sure that you are kept safe for as long as you live...

Author's Note

This WAS my NaNoWriMo project, but I'm just going to continue it on anyways.

Reviews

[P J Bradbury]

This is brilliant writing, mate! Don't you ever stop writing as you really do have a talent here.