Resurgence

Prologue

Pitch black. Everything so still…dead…empty, like pure nothingness.

If this is what they call death, then it's not too bad.

Eons later, faint quivers of life started thrumming ever so slightly. That thrum triggered wisps of gray and phosphene across the eerie black blinding me.

The humming energy started prodding my numb limbs.

'Wait a second. Do you even have any limbs?'

A pernicious nagging voice resonated deep inside my head.

Wasn't that monstrosity the very reason for this predicament? I found myself musing.

How do I know this though? Who is it? Rather, what is it?

More importantly, who am I?

These questions triggered sharp spasms shooting across my spine and thorax – like I was being spliced and twisted simultaneously. Waves of nausea and clamminess set in.

It was soon dulled by the onset of a chatter burst not too far from me...

“Dammit!! Darren, check the bio-sign monitor panels! Subject D3X88 is recording steady vitals!”

“Oh, c'mon Alec, vitals? Impossible! Might be some stupid optic-techtronic interference signal – What the... How is this even possible!”

“Alec, high-alert the Matron!”

Dense, muffled footsteps drew near, transforming my queasiness into anxiety.

“Matron, pulse flares and ultra-cardiac spikes in estranged-specimen88. Even precognition. What do we-”

A sudden gasp and whimper sharpened my senses, like a provocation.

“Can't be…Liv?…!!"

"Notify the Director NOW! And summon the extraction team, pronto!" An aged shrill voice screamed.

Loud blaring sirens pierced my ears – maybe eardrums? I could hardly sense any external physique.

Soon a modular beeping several decibels louder blared. Several hurried footsteps approached which prompted an adrenaline rush, a super-alert, offense-stance in me.

This is weird, I pondered. Never I have never been perfectly proactive. Since when do I possess such acute trigger responses?

That question, however, just slid on top of a rapid-growing mental query-set settling into an isolated corner of my brain, analytics already underway. Coherent thinking seemed unobtainable, with senses and instincts coursing so raw and primal.

Somehow, it all still felt like Me, yet not Me at all…

Shortly, my contemplation was wrecked by a gut-wrenching pull across my mid-section. Discernible massive liquid swirls like unplugged drains siphoned at my lowest extremity.

Instinctively, I moved to open – my eyes perhaps? – an opalescent luminance streaked through the slit eyelids. I sensed a tight fleshy sheath stretched across, cocooning my form... Astounding…

‘Eyes closed!’

Once again, the objectivity of my contemplation bewildered me. It seems I am functioning & lacking self-awareness simultaneously.

Yet another puzzling topper among queries.

A distant shrill cognate cry – perhaps a designated awakening call – disrupted my reverie. Momentarily, the nagging voice-over subdued any instinctive reaction, forcing me to appear vegetative.

As if my survival depended on it.

“WHAT in Hell’s deep freeze is happening HERE?”

A deep sonorous commanding voice thundered across, threatening to destabilize me. The sinister tone swiftly choked me with a multitude of scintillating visions – somewhere between white light hallucinations and flashbacks.

Images of me...and…the people I…care for? love? protect? fear? fight?

Emotional dams burst within, flooding me with feelings rapidly morphing from bursting happiness through desolate pain into livid bloodthirsty rage.

Nevertheless, I held my calm, my breath, and waited…

I must survive; I must escape…

‘No…We must escape…And we’ll do it together’

What on earth is that voice?

Dread pulsed through my being in split-second; but brushing it aside, I piqued my attention. Again, my swift natural transition into perfectly defunct dumbfounded me.

“WHO THE HELL ALLOWED YOU IDIOTS TO ENTER MY PRIVATE SUBSPACE!"

"WHO AUTHORIZED ACCESS TO SUBTERRANEAN ARCHIVES!!!”

The commanding voice bellowed, blowing a sudden chill across.

Everyone’s breathing paused. Stifling silence.

“Director-General Agnar Sire, we are sorry!” The voice identified as Darren stammered.

“We were summoned by an Oligarch conclave memorandum for a mandated Defcon Grade-5 security-alert-eval. Since it wasn’t top 3, we figured...just initiate an SBA-protocol run, no need to trouble-“

“HAVEN’T YOU FOOLS Figured Out by NOW that the likes of menial science-lackeys will NEVER BE SECURITY-CLEARED for this VAULT’S Breach-Audit?”

"By those Oligarch PIGS, regardless?"

"And since WHEN does SBA-eval involve auditing hypercritical records?”

“Sire, the memorandum demanded the Genesys Team personally…”

“MATRON MASSEY! Don’t YOU have the common sense to understand the implausibility? Have you checked with Lt. Everard before barging in here? Shouldn’t he validate any SBA, CSE & HPMP breach-eval authenticity?”

“Sire, I...am...so sorry…” Matron Massey seemed to mumble unintelligibly.“…Everard…has been missing for 48 hours now. Not even a digital, let alone optronic footprint. The MIA-Pursuit mission filed is clogged in techtronic infrastructure backlogs-”

“YOU FUCKING INSANE NUT-HEADS!!!!!!!!!"

"The HEAD of EDW-Security MISSING! You LOT supposedly tasked with a high-priority repository evaluation beyond your prerogative, and YOU MORONS didn’t connect the dots of foul play?!!”

“Activate the frigging Emergency Alert RIGHTAWAY!

Massey, mobilize the LOS taskforce!

BUT FIRST, GET the fuck OUT of MY Archi–“

A deafening blast smashed everyone to the ground. Powerful shockwaves rocked the overarching structural foundation. Wave after wave of energy blasts seared through dense constructional mass. Somewhere above us, massive volumes of glass shattered and crashed.

Before anyone realized it a sudden backward tug sent my chamber-contraption flying backward into hidden catacomb-tunnels appearing out of nowhere in the rear walls, ripping my cocoon off. While everyone clamored for cover and solid ground, I caught two fleeting distinct glimpses:

Firstly, the aghast horror-stricken expression of a sallow-faced female, presumably Matron Massey. But, more vividly, a cold, calculating, determined façade being swiftly yanked off to reveal panic-strewn deadly fury and venomous eyes of a formidable-looking giant man, the one they called Director-General Agnar.

Epilogue

Swift Whoosh…Forceful lateral recoil…

…. Splash…

…

Gravel crunching thud…

…

Pulsating core…

…

Another explosion interrupted…

‘Fail-safe-Trigger! Curse them animals’

….

After an eternity, my senses awakened again, coupled with searing burning pain all over.

Through a wide partially damaged glass pane of a pill-like chamber, I crawled out.

Upon finding upright posture, an unnerving sight stunned the breath out of me!

My legs, no, wiggly cephalopod-like appendages waist-down.

“TOMM!!! WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME!” I yelled impulsively! Surprise caught me again.

A blood-soaked form crawled out from the bushes nearby.

“Liv…” It whispered feebly.

Instinctively I glided closer, crouching to help…

“I am sorry – (gasp) – should have protected…Instead…stood-by…watched destroy you…”

My physical pain vanished laying bare indescribable mental agony.

Tom…!

“Your life’s work…Biotronic Evolution…Agnar betrayed…!”

“I don’t understand–” My composed icy tone bottled the internal turmoil. But hot flashes of pain-invoking imagery flowed into my inner vision.

“Liv, Listen...” His raspy voice shook. Breathing hitched.

“Try – remember…” Tom’s voice trembled, as he fumbled around his pockets. Blood gushed out of countless tunneling wounds, but with no further self-preservation instincts, he strived. I held him tightly, attempting to help.

“You unearthed evidence of discrepancies in the insurrection investigations. Cybersapien factions – merely fought for existential rights, mechano-longevity right from the implant catacombs – not the frigging war machines we were led to believe!”

“Agnar’s gameplay – long back! – (heave)...used you – us – Your life-extension research on animal self-healing properties… Monster commissioned the infernal Genesys team… they extrapolated your work – weaved into monstrous subspecies – animal-infused human army…genetically programmed to wipe out organic life”, Tom spluttered.

“NOT revolution... Conspiracy! GENOCIDE!”

Copious tears streamed endlessly from us, blinding us both…

“Bastard architected the rebellion – war-criminals as experimental subjects.”

“I saw it all – hidden subterranean vault, sedation chambers, gestation cubicles, batching based on fusion-species!”

“Inhuman!!! Massacre-sounding failure rates! – been planning right from start!”

“Always intended…discredit, neutralize, eliminate…you.“

A sharp cough made him expel swells of blood and tissue…The fluids turned progressively darker, defaced by tiny creatures.

The nagging voice, now running analytics in a detached recess of my mind, chanted,

‘Nano weapon…’

Raw fury blinded my vision as Agnar’s cold swift-receding face twisted into my inner eye. Parallelly, a surge of strength and stimulation pulsed through my appendages.

The urge to crush the life out of him.

However, as if in a trance, I proceeded with what felt essential.

‘First aid NOW!’

“I found the erased video footage!”, Tom trudged on, summoning the last of his strength.

“Finally, worth of my Techtronic-security expertise! Moron removed optronic footprints but missed the echoes…Dark-web deals, emulated transactions…”

“Liv! The Oligarchs – don’t exist!”

“…autogenetic entities! Fooling us into his puppetry!”

“You discovered it all!!!…And he chucked you into the morph tank for it!!!”

My insides squirmed in pain, expressions betraying nothing. Every word heard struck my brain like asteroids. Mind’s visions started to crystalize and fade at the same time.

“Tom, don’t give in…Fight it…We will survive…please……….”

A bubble of affection…love…for this…Man, a primitive instinct to protect…my Mate, grew within. The strength he drew to convey all this was draining him exponentially.

I could see the life ebbing …

“Liv…your journal…I read everything…compiled all evidence...digitized echoes, print-passes, optronic records, Subterranean vault drive archives…all burned onto your photo-disk…You were right about me doing this… only me…should have listened to yo– … Why…I waited till I…lost you!”

“I know – u cannot remember…I would’ve lost you forever…But Massey, said memories could be reactivated…helped – rigged the system – functional blockades you installed in the transfiguration morph process – she activated…preserved some of your process memories, most muscle memories…couldn’t salvage behavioral memories…at the least a rebirth, a resurgence, preserving humanity, if not identity.”

“But…wouldn’t let me take you…double-cross…threatened with a fail-safe”

“She…Mother…”

Tom’s feeble breathing staggered. A dead chill spread through my vessels.

“Forget all love…Run…All gone…for now…Go back – Sentinels…will hunt down & terminate –”

“Tommm, please, stay… me…will get help,” I stammered, “...don’t…leave…I need …always have…” My whole being burned in agony.

“It’s OK love…This is (cough – Spasm –) my price…for betraying…should have…by you… even without…proof…for love…”

“Save yourself, Livia, for me, for our Mia – she’s still inside…needs you…please escape...Live…Always love…………….”

Tom’s body stilled. The last flickers of life burned out.

***

Dreariness surrounded me...The raging ocean, howling gale, squawking birds…All gone.

I was painfully aware of the emptiness within, even my tears ceased. It was as if life was no more...I, was no more…

After an eternity, Tom’s tightly balled fist loosened in my lap. A fistful of sand, debris, & something solid rolled down my side.

Unconsciously, I grabbed it. A dark curvy object.

That first touch shot sharp flashes across my mind.

“Yours forever, Mrs. Thomas Everard (To Be)! Hereby presenting Our Locket, forged straight out of my beating heart!” Tom chuckled deeply with impish eyes while helping me with the woven chain bearing the shiny heart-shaped locket.

This one, however, was black, etched with dark-grey symbols and peripherally strewn glowing red glass beads. I tried prying it open when an electronic voice and a click startled me.

“Identity confirmed. Livia Debeoise. Activating photo-disk.”

Surprised, I opened the panel. Inside, was a gold-and-rose-gold embossed picture – a dashing broad-framed ebony-haired man intensely gazing upon a bright confident-looking oval face framed by chocolate-brown waves.

On the left panel, a prismatic wound-coil slowly unwound, extending a three-tiered needle-plug.

Ages passed.

I noticed a miniature rolled scroll on my lap, maybe belonging to a different millennium. As it unfolded, I felt a strongly familiar cursive script that read,

‘Property of Livia Everard nee’ Debeoise’

Indefinable volumes of emotions and sensations erupted within – indescribable pain, unmasked fury, clouded with infinite confusion & incensed fury.

Everything felt found yet lost.

Tom’s right. I need to escape. Survive.

Mia…???

‘We need to survive…Must outrun-!’

Shut up!!!

I slowly found balance, a sense of surroundings.

Cannot manage another glance at Tom.

Quickly studying the forlorn shore, I glided along the sand towards the nearest line of visible structures.

‘Stay close to water.’

Need to honor Tom’s request…

‘No, we need to find those sons of bitches!’

‘We need to figure out…You!!!!!’

Uncover a lifetime lost… A quest, and a journey.

Clutching tightly the only remaining shard of my life – the locket I now know is mine – I trudged along, gaze fixed, at the distant parting in the bushes, and the shrouded future beyond.