Hunc hominem vide-CI

-

-

DATE:24th of August, the 70th year after the Coronation

LOCATION: Concord Metropolis

-------------------------------------------------

-

-

I tried to open my eyes, but it felt as if they had been stitched shut. My whole body was a dead weight, a profound exhaustion that went bone-deep. A strange sensation crept over my skin. I felt… cold. It was a deep, cellular chill that made no sense. Surely my skin should be burnt raw from the blast. It was a sensation I couldn't quite place, unsettling and wrong.

From somewhere in the distance, a woman screamed. A nurse. The sound was sharp, followed by a flurry of footsteps and the low murmur of voices entering the room, quickly escalating into an argument. I was so tired. It would be easy to just let go, to sink back into the black.

Still, I'd been through too much to just lay here and die. I focused what little power I had left into the muscles of my eyelids, forcing them open. It was a monumental effort. The room that met my gaze was dark, illuminated only by a single weak bulb somewhere I couldn't see, casting long, distorted shadows. I was surprised my eyesight hadn't been fried by the radiation. A small miracle, I guess.

A familiar dark figure loomed over me. John. He leaned in, his mouth moving, asking questions, but the words were a meaningless stream of babble, like listening to a language from another world.

Seeing my lack of response, he stepped back, giving me some space. Another figure appeared above me, swimming into focus. Alice. The dark lines under her eyes were stark against her pale skin. Her broken arm was encased in a metal cage, an external fixator, the pins disappearing into her flesh. She whimpered as she got closer, her breath catching in her throat, before she backed away again, unable to look at me for too long. She turned and started arguing with John, their voices a sharp, grating noise that scraped at my already frayed nerves.

All the noise was starting to piss me off.

I tried to raise my upper lip to snarl, but it was numb, useless. My jaw was clenched shut. I could, however, feel my lower lip. Drawing a sharp, hissing breath between my teeth, I tried to get their attention.

"Shh… uff…," I mumbled, the sound mangled and weak.

They stopped.

Then a new flurry of words started, a barrage of questions I couldn't comprehend.

"Sst… op," I managed, the effort draining me. "Can't… un'er… stan'."

It was enough. Eventually, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Alice drag a chair over to the bedside and sink into it, her posture slumped with exhaustion. John must have left. The room fell into a heavy, tired silence, broken only by the quiet hum of machinery I couldn't see.

I could only stare at the ceiling. The flat, white expanse was my entire world.

I wasn't in pain, but I was definitely hurt. A deep, profound damage that went beyond simple injury. I suppose this was the ultimate test for that regeneration Dumas was so proud of. Right now, all it had managed was a pervasive numbness that blanketed my entire body.

It was funny, in a bleak, ironic way. I'd kind of asked for this, hadn't I? When did I start thinking I was invincible, capable of facing down anything I met? Haah. I grew arrogant. I should have just let the old man walk away.

Wait…

A thought cut through the numb haze. Why am I even here? Emily had said Combine reinforcements were coming for the officer. Logically, I should have been scooped up, a prize of war. I shouldn't be in a friendly infirmary. I should have been kidnapped.

My lips felt dry, cracked.

How long was I out for? I couldn't even ask. All I could do was lie here and wait, a prisoner in my own body.

From my side, I could hear Alice crying, her sobs soft and intermittent. Was she really this sad to see me reduced to this state? What a waste of energy. Still, I suppose it confirmed she still loved me. There was that.

An hour must have passed before John returned. He ignored the IV cannula already in my arm and instead produced a fresh syringe. He slid the needle into another vein. Was he trying not to compromise the existing line? What the hell was he injecting me with?

It felt… cold.

Such a small amount of liquid shouldn't have made any lasting change to the temperature of my blood, but the chilling sensation only spread, a tendril of ice winding its way from the point of insertion up my arm and into my body.

When it hit my head, the sensation flipped. My mind felt like it was on fire, my brain heating up as if it were a CPU being overclocked. Thoughts fired off with blinding speed; my neurons were working in overdrive. I felt my heart begin to hammer against my ribs, faster and faster.

Then, with a violent spasm, my entire upper body lurched forward. My hand instinctively shot out to clutch at my chest. The jolt was so powerful, it felt like I'd been hit with a defibrillator.

"What the hell did you inject me with?!" I roared, the words tearing from my throat, clear and strong.

I could see him perfectly now. John, dressed in casual clothes as if he'd just arrived at the hospital, had a faint smirk playing on his lips. He didn't seem surprised by my question, only by the sheer speed and violence of the drug's effects.

"Mundi was right," John said, that infuriatingly calm smirk still on his face. "Your body really does work differently."

"You didn't answer my question," I growled, my voice still raw.

"You're that curious?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "It's called D-IX. A little cocktail: five milligrams of oxycodone, five of cocaine, and three of methamphetamine. Normally, I would never approve such an aggressive formula for a patient, but since you're incapable of permanently losing neurons, it should be fine."

My veins still felt like they were filled with ice water. I looked down at my own body for the first time. It was a patchwork of angry, red, second-degree burn scars. The skin was new and shiny, but the damage was undeniable.

Seeing the shock on my face, John's tone softened slightly. "You were in a really bad shape three days ago. I had to stitch your heart and lungs back together. You stabilized faster than any of us thought possible. We expected you to be in a coma for much longer."

"But these drugs… they aren't for healing me, are they?"

"No, of course not," he said with a dismissive wave. "They're just meant to get you going. No point in keeping you strapped to a bed if you're awake."

As if made impatient by the conversation, Alice approached the bed and gently took my right hand. My flesh felt weak and strange under her grip, like it didn't quite belong to me. I could feel the rough calluses on her palm, the tell-tale sign of a recent fight. I turned my head to look at her and was met with a soft, shining light. The little moons that made up her pupils, the ones that usually burned with a fierce intensity, had softened. For a moment, I was captivated by her. It had been a while since I'd seen that light.

"I'll give you two some time," John said, and with a quiet click of the door, he was gone.

A soft whimper escaped Alice's lips, a leftover from her earlier tears. She let go of my hand and traced a single, gentle finger across my scarred face. "They said you were burned from radiation," she whispered. "That there was no way a human could survive injuries like that, but I knew…"

That I wasn't human anymore? Is that what she wanted to say? Why not just finish the damn sentence?

"How have you been, Alice?" The question came out monotone, but it was a monumental effort to keep my voice steady. My whole body was trembling from the cocktail of drugs John had pumped into me.

"I… ha ha…" A wet, humorless laugh escaped her. "Well, it's been hard. But that's besides the point. I'm sure you went through even more than I did. I'm… I'm just so usele—"

I raised my hand, covering her mouth to stop the word. I gazed into her eyes, my expression as serious as I could manage. "Never call yourself that. You will never be useless." I already had enough trouble from Sarah going down that route.

Her eyes immediately started to well up with fresh tears. I uncovered her mouth, my thumb wiping away the moisture as it fell.

"I… I found out my name," I said, the words feeling foreign on my tongue. "My true name."

"Yes?!" she said, her voice filled with a sudden, hopeful excitement.

"I used to be called Kassius."

"Kassius?" she repeated, a genuine smile gracing her lips. "That's a beautiful name." She was sincere, but I knew she had no idea what it really meant in Ventian. Hollow. It wasn't a bad name on its own, a modern version of Cassius, a middle name shared by ancient rulers and politicians. But for me, it wasn't a middle name. It was the name my father had given me because he saw no worth in me at all. I was just the physical confirmation of a wedding he never wanted.

Whatever. Who's hollow now, old man?

Alice settled onto the edge of the bed, her one good hand wrapping around my neck to pull me in for a kiss. Her lips were soft, a gentle contrast to the violent chaos of the last few days.

"I love you, Kassius," she whispered against my mouth.

"I know," I replied, my voice rough. Still in the hug, I tangled my fingers in the soft hair at the back of her head, pressing her closer. Even with her warmth against me, my veins still felt like they were filled with ice.

We stayed like that for a while, a quiet moment of stillness in the storm.

"I couldn't find her," she said finally, her voice muffled against my shoulder. "My mother… we got a lead, but it was another dead end. The whole sector was a mess."

"I heard," I said. "That fight in the park… who were those soldiers?"

"They defected," she explained, pulling back just enough to look at me. "Part of the Concord wharf garrison just… switched sides. They joined the Combine. It's how they got all that new equipment." She hesitated. "They almost got you, you know. After the… after the blast. They had you in a transport van."

"Then why am I here?"

"Crater," she said simply. "He saw the whole thing. He broke into the van before it could even leave the park. If he hadn't been there…" She trailed off, not needing to finish the thought. I made a mental note to thank him. Or not.

"It felt like forever," she murmured, a distant look in her eyes. "Those three days you were in Ventia… it felt like a lifetime."

"For me, it was literal," I said. "Felt more like a month." I watched her face for any sign of disbelief, but she just nodded, accepting it. Or at least pretending to.

A sharp knock on the door shattered the moment. John entered without waiting for a reply, still in his casual clothes and carrying a briefcase. "If you're recovered, we should get you to the meeting."

"What meeting?"

"A strategy meeting with the other agencies," he said, his tone all business. "We've been fighting the Combine as individuals, but it's clear that was a mistake. We have to organize."

"What? I found it worked alright," I said, genuinely confused. "Who decided this?"

"It was you, Kas—" Alice started, then corrected herself. "Will."

John nodded. "You emailed the Legion about this idea, remember?"

Dammit, Emily. I shouldn't have left her in charge of everything. Why wouldn't she inform me about something like this?

"In any case, it isn't long before the meeting starts. Get changed." He left the briefcase on a table, opening it to reveal a folded suit before exiting the room.

Alice gave me another quick, wet kiss before slipping out to go change herself.

I rose from the bed, my head swimming with a wave of nausea from the drugs. I took the pants and shirt from the briefcase and pulled them on. The jacket could stay. It was August, after all. The shoes John had left for me were surprisingly nice, the leather a warm, honey-almond color. The sensation of fabric sliding over my newly healed, burnt skin was strange, an irritating friction against the sensitive flesh, but it wasn't like I was going to cry about it. A man's got to do what he… whatever. It's a useless proverb my father used to say.

Then I remembered. My phone. I glanced at the empty nightstand next to the bed. Did they keep it somewhere else? Oh well. I'll ask Alice when I see her.-*-*-*-*-*