Chapter 27

The three men walked in silence, hands raised, escorted by the drones that hovered around them like mechanical shadows. One of the drones had taken care of collecting the weapons they had previously dropped, keeping them at a safe distance while escorting the men to whatever awaited them.

The man in the center, clearly the leader of the group, turned his head slightly toward the other two. "Don't say anything, got it?" he growled in a low but firm tone. His eyes narrowed with an implicit threat. The other two, both younger and more nervous, nodded quickly. It was clear they knew who was in control here, and they didn't want to provoke him.

As they advanced, the sight before them left them perplexed. Heavy machinery, tractors, and modified vehicles were all working tirelessly in the frozen landscape. Drones and small robots moved back and forth, shifting what appeared to be large metal pieces and crates emerging from the snow. The activity was astonishing to them, used to the chaos and despair of the refuge.

The man in the center, who went by the name Mateo, let a sinister smile spread across his face. "Looks like we've stumbled upon something big, boys," he murmured greedily as he watched the machinery bustle about. Mateo's eyes gleamed with ambition. "Look at all this... If we tell the boss, we're going to be on top when we take control of it all."

One of the men, with a patchy beard and hands trembling from the cold, clicked his tongue. "This is... a gold mine. Who the hell has all this in the middle of nowhere?"

The third man, more robust but with a cynical expression, spat into the snow before speaking. "Doesn't matter who owns it now. As soon as we tell the boss, it'll be ours. And those damn robots won't even see what we've got planned for them."

Mateo nodded, his gaze still fixed on the convoy and the machinery continuing to work. He knew that under the protection of their boss, a ruthless man who ruled the escaped prisoners with an iron fist, all of this would soon belong to them. After all, the chaos in the city had turned men like them into the true rulers. With enough violence and control, anything could be taken. That had been the lesson learned during their time in the refuge before everything fell apart.

Meanwhile, Alex was in the tractor cabin, watching everything through the screens connected to the drones. His face showed concern as he discussed with Ariel what to do next.

"Do you really need me to try that now?" Alex murmured, visibly uncomfortable. "I don't know if it's safe... we could hurt them."

Ariel responded with a practical and precise tone. "It's the best time to practice and test its functionality. The likelihood of getting truthful information from these individuals is low, based on their psychological profile."

Alex let out a long sigh, hesitating. "Still... they're human. I don't want to hurt them if I don't have to. Maybe they'll talk without having to resort to that."

"The data suggests otherwise," Ariel insisted. "However, the decision is yours."

Alex frowned, still undecided. Finally, he shook his head. "No, not yet. Let's talk to them first. Maybe they'll cooperate."

The drones brought the men to an imposing piece of machinery: a large modified tractor, with enormous treads and an armored body. The vehicle's front lights shone with a blinding intensity, illuminating the space around it. The windows were completely sealed, preventing anyone from seeing inside. To the three men, it all seemed like something out of a science fiction movie.

Mateo, feeling slightly intimidated, swallowed but maintained his composure. "Whatever you're doing here, buddy," he muttered, barely audible, "it's not going to last long..."

A mechanical voice echoed through the air, cold and neutral. "Place your hands behind your head and kneel."

The three men exchanged tense glances but didn't dare defy the order. Following the instructions, they knelt in the snow, hands on their heads, as directed. A drone quickly approached, using pincers to cuff their hands and ankles with mechanical efficiency, causing them to grit their teeth. Their breaths grew shorter from the accumulated tension.

Inside the cabin, Alex watched the scene. "Was all this precaution really necessary, Ariel? They seem like regular guys. I doubt they have much to fight with."

Ariel, however, didn't relent. "Precaution is essential. We don't know their intentions or true capabilities. It's better to be prepared."

A second drone appeared and passed a scanner over the men's bodies. Another drone approached to begin stripping them of any dangerous objects. Several hidden knives were found among their clothes, small guns that hadn't been surrendered earlier, and some improvised tools that could be used as weapons. Everything was removed with surgical precision.

Mateo clenched his teeth as his weapons were taken. "Damn robots..." he muttered under his breath, his eyes gleaming with hatred. Beside him, one of his companions shifted nervously but said nothing. It was clear the situation was out of their hands, at least for now.

From inside the tractor, Alex watched the three men through the cameras connected to the drone hovering in front of them. He had prepared to speak to them calmly, hoping to get useful information, but so far, all he had received were vague answers and a defiant attitude.

"What's going on in the city?" Alex asked, his voice transmitted through the drone in a neutral but firm tone. "Where is everyone?"

The three men exchanged looks, clearly uncomfortable. The one in the middle, the leader, spat on the ground before answering.

"Why do you want to know?" he said with a mocking smile. "I don't know who you are or what you think you're doing here, but you don't know who you're messing with, do you?"

Alex didn't respond immediately, keeping calm. But the man in the middle seemed more and more confident with Alex's lack of clear responses.

"I'll tell you one more time," Alex said, ignoring the threat. "What's going on in the city? I need to know."

One of the other men, nervous but following his boss's lead, chuckled.

"The city's the same as always, isn't it? Chaos, cold, and more chaos. Nothing you need to know, buddy," he replied sarcastically, though his tone betrayed a certain unease.

The leader of the group raised his voice, visibly irritated.

"We don't have to answer you at all!" he shouted, trying to maintain control. "If you don't know what's happening, then you'd better get out before things get ugly. Don't you know who our boss is? If you get involved in this, you're doomed!"

Alex, through the drone, remained calm. He knew their defiant attitude was a way of hiding their fear. He didn't respond to their provocations, but the increasingly direct threats were starting to annoy him.

"Why don't you tell me which faction controls the city?" Alex asked, trying to be diplomatic, though he knew he wouldn't get much that way.

The leader, now more confident due to Alex's lack of direct answers, smiled sinisterly.

"If you don't know, that's your problem. But you'll find out soon enough. Our boss will find you and show you how things work around here. This isn't a place for people like you, making noise with all this machinery. We're going to take everything you've got."

Another of the men, younger with an anxious look, added:

"Yeah, you'd better give yourself up now, so we can avoid trouble. Or worse..." his voice trembled slightly, but the aggression was trying to cover his nervousness.

Alex remained silent, not immediately responding to the threats. From inside the tractor, he sighed deeply. It didn't seem like he was going to get anything useful from them through dialogue.

"Ariel, what do we do?" he finally asked, dropping his shoulders, tired of the men's attitude.

Ariel responded immediately, keeping his neutral tone.

"I recommend memory extraction. It will be the most effective way to obtain accurate information. These individuals are unreliable, and their verbal resistance suggests they won't yield easily. With your ability, it's possible to access their memories directly."

Alex raised an eyebrow, somewhat surprised by the suggestion.

"Memory extraction? Ariel, we're not talking about machines. These are humans. Do you really think my ability can do that?" he asked, unsure.

Ariel explained in his characteristic tone.

"The theory behind this is based on the brain's capacity to store information in the form of electrical impulses. Your ability allows you to generate and control electrical currents. If you can access those neural currents, you could potentially read information stored in their brains, similar to how information is extracted from an electronic device. Of course, the process is experimental, but it's the most viable option given the circumstances."

Alex remained silent for a moment, processing the information. The idea of reading someone's memories, though intriguing, also made him uneasy. He knew his ability went beyond what he had ever imagined, but this was a new step, something he wasn't sure he could control.

"And if I hurt them?" Alex asked, still watching the screen that showed the three men.

"The risk of damage is minimal if you maintain control over the current," explained Ariel. "The key is the intensity and precision with which you administer the discharge. Controlled access to electrical activity in the brain shouldn't cause permanent damage, as long as you don't exceed the limits."

Alex sighed deeply. He knew there weren't many more options if he wanted to obtain valuable information from these men, and time wasn't on his side.

"Alright," he finally said, making a decision. "Let's try it. But I'll do it carefully."

Ariel seemed to approve of the decision without further comment.

With one last sigh, Alex exited the tractor, the cold outside hitting him immediately. He adjusted his coat against the icy wind and looked towards the three men, still kneeling, handcuffed, and monitored by the drones. As he approached them, one of the drones hovered nearby, keeping the prisoners in check with its weapons pointed directly at them.

The men looked at him with distrust, but the leader of the group, as usual, tried to appear defiant.

"Finally showing your face, huh?" the man said with a mocking smile. "You have no idea what you're getting yourself into, buddy."

Alex ignored him, focused on his task. He felt the metallic gloves and mycelia connecting to his skin beneath the coat, the strange sensation of direct contact with the fungi reminding him that he was entering uncharted territory. He approached the man cautiously, his eyes fixed on him.

"I'm going to ask you some questions," Alex said calmly. "And you're going to answer."

Alex advanced slowly toward the leader of the group, feeling the cold seeping through his coat. With each step, the icy air bit at his face, but his focus was elsewhere: on what he was about to do. The metallic gloves covering his arms up to his elbows were fully activated, and although the sensation of the mycelia wrapping around his skin caused discomfort, he knew he needed to use his ability.

He stopped in front of the man, who still looked at him with a defiant smile, as if he had no idea what was about to happen. Alex raised a hand and gently placed it on the prisoner's head.

"I'm going to ask you some questions," Alex repeated, not raising his voice. "And I want clear answers."

The man snorted, shaking his head in an attempt to shrug off Alex's hand. But as soon as he tried, Ariel, through one of the drones, emitted a buzz, reminding the prisoner that he was under constant surveillance.

Alex closed his eyes and began to concentrate, channeling his electrical ability through the gloves and letting the mycelia do their work. It wasn't easy, and at first, he felt nothing, like hitting a brick wall. However, little by little, he began to notice small electrical pulses, patterns moving inside the man's mind. It was like trying to tune a frequency on an old radio, each adjustment slow and meticulous until he finally found a signal.

The first memory appeared as a blurry flash. Fragments of scattered images, disordered memories, like an old TV flickering between scenes. Alex took a deep breath, focusing harder. Slowly, the images began to take shape.

First, he saw what appeared to be a cell. It was dark, dirty, and the prisoner, Victor, was sitting on the edge of a metal bunk. Other men were around him, chatting, some fighting over a piece of food. The tension in the air was palpable, and Alex, though not physically there, felt a knot in his stomach. Prison. Victor had been in prison before all this.

"How did you get out of there?" Alex asked quietly, as the images continued to flow in his mind.

The memory shifted. Now, he was in the prison yard. Total chaos: guards running, gates open, and screams everywhere. The prisoners had taken control. Some had managed to get makeshift weapons, and they were forcing their way to the exit. Victor ran among them, shoving other prisoners out of his way.

"That's what happened..." Alex murmured to himself as he watched. A prison break. Ariel had mentioned something like this before, but seeing it firsthand was another thing. The violence, the chaos, the prisoners' desperation to escape.

"What are you doing?" one of the other prisoners asked, watching as Alex kept his hand on Victor's head. "Is he one of those freaks with powers?"

The other man muttered something in response, but before they could continue speaking, Ariel intervened through the drones.

"Silence, first and final warning," the cold voice of the AI said, and the drones pointed their weapons at them. Both prisoners fell silent instantly, frightened.

Alex ignored what was happening around him and kept digging deeper into Victor's mind. It was exhausting. Memory reading wasn't like connecting to a machine; it was a much more complex process. The images were distorted, mixed with emotions and sensations, making it hard to separate and organize them. But with each passing minute, Alex improved at the task.

Alex kept his hand on Victor's head, concentrating on deciphering the tangle of memories emerging from his mind. The images continued to be disordered, interspersed with distorted sounds and emotions filled with rage and fear. Alex's breathing quickened as he delved deeper into Victor's memories, but what he began to find led him to a darkness he hadn't expected.

The first clear memory was a basement, dark and grim, with a single flickering lamp. The atmosphere was stifling, and a group of men, including Victor, surrounded someone sitting in a chair. The man was tied up, weak, and clearly injured. The shadows on the walls seemed to move, and the laughter of those present was muted and threatening.

Alex swallowed hard, sensing that something was terribly wrong in that scene. It wasn't just an interrogation; there was something more. The gestures of the men, the hungry looks, and the atmosphere charged with pure violence. Alex wanted to pull away, but he was too immersed in the memories to stop now.

"Where is your base?" Alex repeated, trying to maintain control as the fragmented memories continued slipping into his mind.

The memory shifted again. This time, Victor and his companions were in what looked like an improvised warehouse, surrounded by malnourished and desperate people. There was implicit violence in every movement, in every interaction. The men who controlled the place seemed to relish the power they held over others. The fearful looks, the defeated expressions... Alex didn't want to look anymore, but he couldn't stop.

There was something in the atmosphere, something in the way the victims avoided eye contact with their captors, that suggested a type of control beyond mere violence. Victor and his group's laughter was the most disturbing: they enjoyed what they were doing, even though not everything was clear. The images that followed were nothing but broken fragments: a man crying, muffled screams, and something dark that Alex couldn't fully process.

"This..." Alex whispered, his eyes still closed, feeling the growing horror inside him. The sensations of hunger and despair mixed with cruelty, but everything was wrapped in a kind of fog that Alex didn't want to clear away.

Finally, he reached a moment that froze him. Victor was in the middle of a scene Alex could never have imagined. The details were blurry, but enough could be seen: the actions were terrible, inhuman. Victor and his group moved like predators, their behavior animalistic, devoid of any trace of humanity. The face of a victim, almost unrecognizable due to fear and suffering, appeared for a second.

Alex felt a pang in his stomach. His breathing became shallow, and cold sweat began to run down his forehead. The next memory was the final straw. He didn't need to see more. What he had seen was enough to understand the nature of Victor's faction and what they did, not just to survive but to impose terror and control. What was behind those closed doors was something he didn't want to remember.

With a cry of desperation, Alex let go of Victor and stumbled back, falling to his knees in the snow. The cold couldn't calm the knot in his stomach or the overwhelming feeling of disgust. He leaned forward, resting his hands on the ground, and vomited violently.

Ariel, from the drones, monitored the situation.

"Alex? Your vital signs are fluctuating. Are you alright?"

Alex raised his hand, trying to say something, but could only gasp, struggling to shake the images from his mind. It wasn't just what he had seen, it was what he had felt: the despair, the cruelty, and the complete lack of humanity. The laughter, the screams... everything still echoed in his head.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Alex stood up shakily, his legs trembling. His eyes reflected the confusion and horror of what he had just experienced. He couldn't speak, couldn't form a coherent sentence in that moment. He could only feel.

"This... wasn't what I expected..." he murmured, trembling as he wiped his mouth.