Chapter 7 - Fractured Will

The cold liquid rushed in, crashing over Tayo's body like a tide of frozen needles. It clawed at his skin, creeping up his chest, his neck, his face. He twisted and thrashed, his fists hammering the glass, his lungs seizing in raw panic. Every instinct screamed:

BREATHE—

But there was nothing to breathe. His mouth opened in a silent scream, and liquid filled him, choking his throat, and pouring down into his lungs like thick, icy sludge.

His heart pounded wildly, each beat like a drumroll of terror. His eyes darted around, searching for anything—anything—that might stop it. The figures on the other side of the glass watched with detached curiosity. No words. No hesitation. Their silhouettes wavered in the distortion of the fluid, like phantoms observing a dying man.

I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die.

His mind echoed with it, each repetition more frenzied than the last. His chest burned, lungs desperate for air they would never receive. He clawed at his throat, fingers curling like claws as his body convulsed.

A tremor wracked his muscles, his brain firing off alarms so intense they were deafening. His arms floated, moving sluggishly through the liquid like he was trapped in molasses. Vision dimming. Black spots danced at the edges of his sight. No. No. No!

His world closed in. Darkness folded over his mind like a sheet being drawn across his senses. His heartbeat was fading, slowing… slowing…

Then stillness.

No pain. No panic. Just weightless, all-consuming stillness.

The hiss of air and the sharp sensation of weight came crashing down on him as the pod opened. He gagged, coughing up mouthfuls of thick fluid that poured from his nose and mouth. His body jolted with violent spasms, each cough pulling his ribs tight with pain. Air—a cruel, sharp thing—filled his lungs at last.

Tayo crumpled to the cold metal floor, his hands splayed out like a fallen marionette. Every nerve in his body felt wrong. His ears buzzed, and his vision flickered between light and dark.

"Back to the cell," a guard barked.

He didn't resist. Couldn't resist. His arms hung like dead weight as they dragged him, his legs scraping against the rough floor. Pain swirled in every part of him, sharp and unyielding. The world around him spun, the sharp white lights above flickering with his every blink. He caught sight of the hooded figure, the one with the tablet. His eyes, as always, remained fixed on the data in front of him. Not once did he glance at Tayo.

Not once.

They dumped him on the floor of his cell like a bag of discarded trash. His cheek pressed against the cold metal, breath shallow and uneven. For a long while, he just lay there, his mind a storm of exhaustion and quiet fury.

"...You still alive, Tayo?"

The voice was small and fragile, but it cut through the fog in his head. His eyes slowly shifted toward the source. Zion. The boy sat in his cell across from him, knees pulled up to his chest, face peering through the reinforced glass. His eyes were blank like someone who had lost his mind.

His hair was wet, which meant he had undergone the same treatment that Tayo had. Imagining that they had subjected a kid to this sort of torture made his skin crawl and his heart cold.

"You were in there a long time," Zion muttered. His tiny fingers tapped against the glass in a slow, nervous rhythm. "I thought they were gonna keep you in there like the last guy."

"Yeah..." Tayo's voice was cracked, barely a whisper. He turned his head, resting his chin on the cold floor. His chest ached with every breath. "Barely."

Tayo's eyes twitched. The last guy.

'Which last guy?'

He hadn't really thought about it, but now, he remembered that there were others that had been captured alongside them. Where were these people held?

"Where are the others?" he asked.

Zion shook his head. "Only three were here?"

"The last guy is another guy who was brought here with us?" he tried to confirm to which Zion nodded.

Tayo paused.

"They won't get us like that," Tayo muttered, not sure if he was reassuring Zion or himself.

Zion tilted his head. "How do you know?"

Tayo sucked in a slow breath. His gaze shifted to the ceiling, staring into the blinding white light above. "Because I have to leave this place."

'I don't want to die,' he thought to himself.

Zion didn't reply, but he kept tapping the glass, the soft rhythm echoing in Tayo's ears until sleep finally claimed him.

Time didn't matter anymore. Days blended into nights, pain into numbness. Every time the boots echoed down the hall, Tayo's heart jumped. Sometimes they came for him. Sometimes they didn't. Sometimes they took Zion.

It had been a hell lasting more than a month by his estimation. There had been a slight hope that a miracle would happen and the facility would be found. He hoped for rescue in the recesses of his mind.

Unfortunately, remaining strong in a situation that actively deprived them of hope made it difficult to be positive or assure Zion that things would be fine.

The boots marching toward the cell had become routine, but this time… this time it was different.

The boots were slow. Deliberate. Each step carried a weight that pressed on his mind long before they arrived at his cell. The guards stopped, and for a moment, there was silence. No beeping of locks. No orders.

Just silence.

Then the locks disengaged.

Tayo didn't move. His head hung low, eyes dim, and his body slumped against the wall like an old, forgotten mannequin.

"Cell 18. Extraction," came the cold command.

His vision was blurry, his mind a hollow echo. He felt his body being lifted, his feet barely dragging along the ground. His body didn't fight them. He had no fight left.

He was done.

The pod loomed ahead, its glass door opening like the maw of a beast. He didn't resist. Why would he? The past month had been a never-ending cycle of drowning, electrocution, injections, and isolation. Every cell in his body had screamed, and every shred of hope had crumbled.

This was the start of the torture, the drowning pod, his mind termed it. Looking at it, his mind reached a conviction that would have surprised him. He had pushed through the slump of falling from grace; dreaming of the day he rose back to the top and now he was okay with death.

They shoved him into the pod. The cold fluid embraced him.

He didn't struggle.

He didn't claw.

He let it take him.

The liquid flowed into his mouth, his nose, and his throat. This time, there was no panic. No desperation.

Just stillness.

He sank deeper into the cold, dark abyss. His heartbeat slowed. His mind floated, quiet and free. 'Is this how it ends?' He wondered. Is this what peace feels like?

His eyes closed.

And then—

Thump. Thump. Thump.

His eyes opened slowly.

He wasn't drowning anymore.

His body felt weightless, but this wasn't the stillness of death. It was something else entirely. The cold that had bitten into his skin was gone, replaced by an absence of sensation—no heat, no cold, just nothing.

He blinked once, then twice. Darkness. Absolute, endless darkness. He could feel it wrapping around him like a vast, infinite ocean. No walls. No floor. Just… space.

He turned his head, and that's when he saw it.

Points of light. Tiny, shimmering specks scattered across the void like stars. They blinked in and out, some drifting closer, others floating further away. What is this? He raised his hand, gazing at his fingers. They were there, but not there, like his body was made of thin smoke.

The lights shifted. No, not shifted—moved. Slowly, deliberately, as if drawn to him.

One floated right up to his face, hovering inches from his eyes. It pulsed gently, like a heart, flickering between faint blue and brilliant white. Tayo stared, mesmerized, his breath caught in his throat. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Another light appeared. Then another. And another.

His heart swelled with something unexplainable—awe, wonder, fear, all at once.

He reached out, fingers stretching toward the closest one. It hovered there, unmoving, until—

FZZZZT.

It blinked out. Gone.

Tayo flinched, pulling his hand back. The other lights pulsed once, twice, and suddenly, they all began to vanish, winking out one by one like snuffed candles.

No. Wait. Come back.

The darkness returned, deeper and more complete than before. But Tayo felt something now—a pressure, faint but growing stronger, like unseen eyes locked on him. His heartbeat quickened.

Tayo's eyes darted around, searching for the source, but there was nothing. Only darkness.

Then the darkness vanished–

Tayo's eyes widened. His breath caught. His heart raced.

The lights returned. This time, they did not blink.

They watched him.