A new nightmare. An old threat.

[langwiz7]

Chaos and confusion roamed through Last's head. After the months of semi-consciousness had passed, he began to feel a bit like his old self, but something was most definitely still wrong. "RAGE is in check," he muttered to himself, checking on the inhibitors. "Chronus seems to have left as well." He mused, still lost in thought as to whether this diagnostic could be trusted. He looked at the clock. "Late....so late I'm talking to myself." His head felt heavy, and he slumped over the computer.

Almost instantly he realized he was having another nightmare. The kind that could resurrect RAGE if frequent. There was something wrong, a hint of...smoke? He bolted out of the science lab in Borealis and into a blazing inferno. People were screaming in pain and choking on the fumes as Borealis smoldered. He quickly put on his CDS helmet, knowing the respirator and vision enhancement would serve him better than his own eyes. But still, something was definitely wrong. Where were all the ICC? He ran, and leapt over a flaming barricade, grimacing, then patting down his pants. He thought he saw someone familiar on the roof, seemingly...dancing in the flames? With athletic poise, he flipped onto the cluster of buildings and landed next to a garish site.

At his feet was Raijou and Trussel, his close friends, each about to pass into reclaim. He bent down close to them. "She's gone mad," Raijou coughed. In his mind, he knew who she was. It could only be her. His body recoiled at the thought, stomach began to churn, his mind reeling from the news.

"No! It can't be!" Last moved away in shock. Then he felt something wash over him, flinging him back into a chainlink fence, then through it as the metal melted, yet somehow he fell into the water. He gasped, stunned, and choked from the inhalation, then swam back up.

He saw her then, wreathed in flame, her eyes burning wildly. "You...could do this?" he asked of the figure, who merely laughed at him. "No, it can't be real...it can't be happening!" 'Wake up damnit! Wake up!' His body knew what was going to happen next, and bolted away before the flame resurged around him. He jammed a stim into his arm and felt the rush of endorphins and adrenaline. "Why?" he shouted. "Why?!!"

Then he saw the demons. They ran past him, chittering and skulking, straight at her. He turned around to see a bright blue blade flash in the night and the flame begin to sputter out. "What new trickery is this? Chronus?" Her figure slumped to the ground, lifeless. He ran to her, but it was too late. There was nothing he could do. He looked up at the hooded man who had done this and knew his face. "You...what is the meaning of this?" Tears slipped from cold eyes as the hooded man realized his betrayal. Then, Last recognized that blade. Tiedus had wielded one in his own dreams. He knelt beside her and cradled her head. "Go. Now. Before I kill you where you stand. I'm giving you this chance as our friendship dies." The hooded man left. Last wept.

Outside of the dream a warning in the laboratory sounded. "Level Three inhibitor disabled." The warning then ceased as RAGE quietly reprogrammed the inhibitor. "TWO LEFT AND I AM FREE." The robotic voice uttered.

[langwiz7]

Last looked around the city that had begun to be his home. It had the most access hubs of any of the cities with totally accessable shops he knew of, and quite a few communications relays he enjoyed tampering with in his spare time. He remembered the time while Ergo had been in his head, laughing and chiding him with stories about extra code the strange being was adding to him. Last wondered if it could possibly be true, that the being known as Ergo had such command of faculties that it could rewrite bits of the human mind. He hoped it was not true, but sometimes found himself in situations where a programmed response he had no recollection of creating activated, usually in combat, of his body suddenly, unexpectedly, jerking away from danger. He sometimes wondered if Chronus had also left any residual effects. Udon had checked him out and found nothing, but he was too troubled to go to Xephius and Simehiri. Their analysis may prove too much for him. Something disturbed him about not being in control now that never really had before, a sense of helplessness, and of shame.

He roused from his musing and looked up at the darkening sky. Something wasn't right about it. Glimpses of a new threat entered his mind, possibly leftovers from Chronus. He wondered about that psychotic entity, what it was, more importantly, how it was related to the new beings that came looking to kill the new life of Rubi-Ka. But those thoughts would have to wait, as the Raid Klaxons siren took up the call. He strapped on his beamer and resummoned the nanobots that controlled his shadow and wrapped it around him. It was time for battle, thinking would have to wait.

[langwiz7]

Two Years Ago

The twin suns of Rubi-Ka were setting over the city of Sabulum, far to the west of him. Last looked with deadly intent at the beings in front of him, taunting him, daring him to break cover and succumb to their prowess. But the fixer knew better, he waited for them to become bold, assume their words had froze him in his tracks, and launch themselves into the open.

A twig snapped and he pushed off the slab of twisted concrete, spun and let the mausser howl. The cyborg who stood in front of him grunted as the bullets hit home and released their chemicals. He had to find it. He had to find out why these beings were like him. He had to know if they had ever truly been human. Pain seared through the fixer's right shoulder and stomach as a borg bullet slammed into his chest, but it did not last for long. He had already taken his combat drugs and the wound began to seal almost immediately. The momentum threw him off balance, but without thinking, he rolled with it and reloaded the streamer in the same motion. Once out of the roll he emptied the clip into the borg, and it went down. He paused and looked for the others, but they had left their comrade to die alone.

The fixer walked to his foe's corpse, gingerly feeling his ribs where he had been shot, and began extracting data from the NCU. Most of it was gibberish, but he put it on a data disc anyway, it could be a code of some sort. Still, he needed to find a fresh cyborg, newly created. This one was quite old.

"Perhaps the biological components wear out faster." He mumbled outloud.

His research went on for some time. Any specimen he could capture did everything in its power to kill him until he was forced to end their existence. He was getting nowhere fast. Another disc, and another, all filled with gibberish. "There has to be something here to help me." He had to find a way to de-activate whatever computer was controlling these beings, to free what was left of their biological components and hope there was enough to remember something, anything, about their past.

His stock of bullets was running low. He had concentrated his fire on arms, legs, the torso, no amount of saving the components would work. He needed a live one, and a way to block out the program that controlled their actions. "Kate." He said into the comm. "Borry?" he asked the nanomage. A few seconds later, the fixer vanished in blue light.

He raced through the grid to the Dreamers' hangout in Bor, that little coffeeshop in the middle of the city. He brushed off the dirt he felt, but didn't see, the grid program had conveniently removed it upon entering, and checked the Terrigena settings. Then he saw Katelin Phare sitting in her usual spot. A smile came over him as he walked over to her.

"Anything new?" she asked. He shook his head.
"No sign of real life. It's as if they really are scavengers."
"But you're smiling?"
"Well..." he still felt slightly uncomfortable around her. He had been extremely grateful for her help, getting him out of that jam, but he was embarrassed about it, too. He didn't like getting others involved in his problems. "It's good to see you." He said, sincerely.
"You needed to ask me something?"
"I need you to write me a program. I need to know if the borgs really are scavengers. To do so requires that their attack and control programming be removed so that if they have life, their biological components might take over. A brain or something. I'll probably need a few, as it seems that not all borgs need the same parts. Do you think this is possible?"
"I'll see what I can do. Can't promise anything."
"You're a gem, Kate."

(continued)

[langwiz7]

Two weeks later, Falikos created a device that would answer the question of which came first, the man or the cyborg. The fixer looked at it with apprehension. He would soon know if his doom was self-inflicted or not of this nature. He carefully approached the city, waiting behind slabs of concrete as borg patrols passed. He soon reached his mark, a younger borg, seemingly more alive than the older ones. Lastsecond2 crept up on his quarry, and got close enough to use the device. It shut off the cyborg protocols in the machinery and allowed for the older nanobots to take control, nanobots that might have been from the host.

He activated it, and screams came from the cyborg. Terrible screams. Then it collapsed, gasps for breath came, and then went leaving a deathly silence. He had a feeling it was no longer safe to remain, and picked up the seemingly dead borg. He set a grid program into activation and scanned his surroundings quickly. Shots rang out from a bombed out building to the south. One grazed his shoulder. He hoped they missed the comatosed or dead borg he held up. The blue came over him. He dragged the cyborg (as well as a triangle can drag) to borealis for further study. Analysis of many doctors in the area showed that the machine came first. He had reached a dead end.

[langwiz7]

Two and a Half Years ago

A red sun rose over an encampment of exiles from 20k. There was an uneasiness in the air, something troubled the inhabitants enough to ready their programs for an assault. Something about the land told them it was coming. Perhaps they saw a puff of dust on the horizon. Perhaps it was just intuition. It was coming. Coming for them. One of them, a nanomage, strode quickly into what looked like a defensible position, a broken gate. The pillars of a stone wall had been hewn by ancient fighting, now leaving a ring around the camp, but it might slow whoever was coming down. The nanomage frowned. On the horizon, something metallic glimmered.

The being came steadily closer. From the equipment he could now see, the nanomage guessed it was a fixer. The nanomage scoffed at his previous fear. He assumed a more regal position, now unafraid of the newcomer. "If he desires a fight, he will...urgk!" Suddenly, without warning, the fixer sent bullets to slam into his chest, sending him backwards against a broken mound of rock. The nanomage looked up at his assailant, hoping he would take pity, but the fixer's helmet did not turn towards his opponent. The fixer's gun went off again, and felled the nanomage.

The other exiles, hearing the commotion, ran towards the newcomer and flung their programs of destruction at him, to no avail. The fixer did not dodge the way they expected, so their programs were off, yet still damaged. The fixer would not go down. A line of clips and shell-casings fell like breadcrumbs leading back towards the city. Even though the fixer never looked at his foes, they fell. One of the nanomages ran towards him, pleading for her life, only to be cut down by a burst point blank. Her blood smeared all over the steel-ribbed armor as she desperately clung to the opifex to keep aright. She saw through the steel-ribbed faceplate, into a face with no eyes. The fixer was blind. But more horrible than the hollow sockets, no emotion, no violent glee, no reluctant duty, nothing displayed on that face.

[langwiz7]

The blind fixer returned to Borealis, covered in blood. He walked unsteadily towards the bar, his mind racing. There was a recognition of what he had done, somewhere deep inside him, mixed feelings of remorse and self-pity mingled with loathing. And there was something else he felt, claustrophobia. He didn't have any clue why he felt so closed in, but that feeling was also very present. The smell of the blood was beginning to make him ill and others shun him, afraid of the gory visage and seeming madness about the being in front of them. He found the door and went into the bar. There, Falikos and Plavca were sitting having a drink. He was happy to see them, but the other emotions did not diminish. They both saw him and looked very concerned.

"What happened to you?" Falikos asked, looking at the garish fixer standing in front of her. "Run into a bronto full speed?" Plavca chuckled slightly, but didn't say anything. The mirth died when the fixer did not laugh.

"I..." The words would not come. "I...slaughtered them...in cold blood. But I can't remember all of it...I didn't choose to!"
"Who are you talking about?" Kate looked concerned now, fearing that the fixer might have started new political intrigue, including many headaches for her, that she would have to smooth over.
"The exiles...in Pleasant Meadows." The fixer looked down.
"Well they were exiled for a reason, quite a bad crowd that plagued 20k officials until they finally were cast out of the city. You did no harm politically."
"But...But I killed them! Without reason!"
"Death comes many times for us all. Wonders of reclaim technology." Kate said wryly.
"Maybe I didn't make myself clear. I killed them, but it wasn't me. I couldn't do anything to stop myself!"
Kate paused a moment before speaking. "The program I created for you had no heuristics, Last," the tall nanomage reminded him. The sound of her voice was soothing, but slightly unnerving. "It merely amplifies your sense of touch and sound so that you can function."
"But why did it happen? I was headed to 20k to sell some things and then ended up there."
"I don't know, and after your incident in Omni Entertainment, I cannot afford to risk doing anything in your NCU."

He knew she was more concerned about doing harm than good. It was as if she had gone to medical school and stopped for some reason to pursue the arts of nano programming. His programming was different from hers, convoluted and freewheeling, slaps of code followed by pauses meant to throw insurgents, followed by inane programming dribble. Rubi-Ka was a dangerous place, made doubly so by the fixer's willingness to meddle in affairs, and his code reflected that. Her program, however, was orderly and neat. Each process was exactly coded with as few lines as possible and arranged so that it would be clearly amendable and easily executed.

He remembered the incident that started this, and her account of it, as she, too, had been involved. His troubles eased slightly, knowing that she would try to help him, even when there was nothing she could do but be supportive. He guessed this was one of those times, but then he remembered the risks she had taken the first time, that had almost claimed her life as well as his. The only thing he really remembered about that laboratory was how ruined it had been.

[langwiz7]

3 years ago - A basement somewhere in Omni Entertainment

Two Solitus med-techs brought in a fixer strapped to a gurney. They wore no identification. The gurney was lifted onto a table, and the fixer was unstrapped. Then one med-tech pulled the fixer onto his side while the other swiftly pulled the gurney out from under him. They left as quickly as they had entered. Then, doctors entered the room, and the med-techs re-entered pushing two large pieces of equipment. They left the doctors to do their work. The first one, an Opifex, checked to make sure the fixer was still unconscious. He nodded to the second doctor, a Solitus who began to position a machine with what looked like a visor attached to a long pole attached to a computer.

"Eyes are the windows to the soul" the opifex quoted.

"Without them, the soul will be open to us." He positioned the visor over the fixer's face. A hum started, and the pole extended down towards the prone fixer. Then, a great amount of air was let out as a vacuum bonded it with the face.

"Surgery ready, Dr. Lindu." The solitus said.

The opifex opened a comm channel. "We're ready, sir."
A base voice replied, "Good. Find out what he knows, then make sure he doesn't talk again."
"After this, he'll be sent to the looney bin for sure." Dr. Lindu smirked.
"I don't want any screw ups. This operation is too delicate to risk anyone finding out what we've done." The boss said. "I'm sure you remember what happened to Dr. MacNamara when he lost his subject." The opifex paled (if your eyes can tell a difference). The solitus also looked disturbed by the threat.
"I assure you, sir, nothing like that will happen on my watch."
"Don't toy with me, Lindu. This fixer has cost me millions. I want "compensation" from him."
"As you wish, sir." Lindu turned off the comm.

"I don't like this," the Solitus said after the comm was turned off. "If what the boss said was true, this guy is more dangerous than he looks."
"That may be, Oren, but we have our orders. If we don't do this, we'll end up worse than if we do. You know what the boss does to people who disobey him."
Oren nodded half-heartedly.

Lindu began the surgery. The whirring of drills bounced off the walls, filling the room with horrendous noise. Then the fixer started screaming. Both of the doctors looked at him in shock.
"What the hell is going on?" Oren asked.
"I don't know!" Lindu shouted over the noise. "Check his vitals!"
"What?"
"Check his vitals!"
"They're normal!"
"Then why's he screaming?"
"I don't know!" Oren shouted.
"Find me something to dampen this noise! I can't concentrate!"
Oren ran out of the room, not noticing the fixer's NCU beginning to awaken and fill with programs. He came back and placed headphones over Lindu's ears. "These were all I could find!" he shouted. Lindu, having read his lips, nodded.
Lindu began writing the psychosis programs that would enslave the fixer in his own mind. There was a cruel sense of satisfaction as Lindu began the new program, infusing it into the machine. "Pain for pain." He said. Oren, who was holding his ears, did not hear him. The fixer finally stopped screaming, but the NCU still pulsed with energy. His comm was also beginning to vibrate.

Lindu finally finished the surgery, and both doctors sighed with relief. Oren, however, was still visibly troubled by what had transpired. "Damn, are you still sure this is a good idea? I would like to have more security, definitely in this room. It's so spartan I doubt a secure channel exists coming to here," he said.
"Don't let looks fool you, Oren. This building is state of the art. It doesn't look it, but that's the point. People are attracted to bright new shiny things, not run-down dumps. I'm definitely sure it is secure, noise aside. Another good thing in the slums is that your neighbors don't ask questions. Anyway, let's get some rest. We have another long day tomorrow; Phase two of this information gathering start."
Oren nodded, and they left the room, turning out the overhead light and again failed to notice the NCU blinking.

[langwiz7]

Three Years Ago

The fixer laid on the table as the device bore into his mind, sending powerful psychotics directly to his brain, but he was not aware of his surroundings. Everything that was happening was doing so inside his skull. His NCU still pulsed with energy, and his body began drawing in nanobots from wherever it could.

He felt pain, agony. Something strange was coming over him. He ran, looking over his shoulder. He was engulfed in a darkness he did not recognize. Everything around him seemed to be gnawing at his very existence. The fixer tried to get away, but his legs were caught and then pulled out from under him. He felt something he didn't realize he was holding fall out of his hands. It clanked in the dark. He reached out for it. With his other arm he tried to lift himself up, but it too got yanked away by something he could not see. He felt himself drag across what must be the ground; it was rough and grassy. He was outside. Black. He couldn't concentrate. He stopped feeling the motion. He must be being poisoned. His mind panicked, but he was powerless to stop what was happening. Then he was totally overtaken.

"Jack..." a woman's voice came through the darkness. "Please wake up, Jack..."
'Jack?' He thought. He had never been called that. He was sure. But what had he been called?
"Everyone at work is hoping for your speedy recovery." The woman sounded tired, and as if she had been crying. He wondered what she meant. He didn't remember getting hurt. Except for that dream. What was that, anyway?
"Lindsay is doing fine. She received excellent marks on her basic nanos class. You've taught her well." The woman went on. "She misses you, Jack."
He still had no idea who the woman was. Her voice was kind and soothing, but foreign. He could not place the speech pattern. He shouted at her, but no sound was produced. "Help me! You must help me! Get me out!" The darkness was closing in again. He kept trying to call out to her as the darkness again forced him to the ground.

He saw glimpses of a face with boldly flashing eyes but only flickers as the darkness closed quickly around it. He wondered if this was the woman who had woken him up, but it seemed not to fit. He felt a rancid liquid enter his throat and choked on it, again losing himself to void. Time seemed to have lost its meaning.

"Daddy," a little girl's voice called. "Daddy, why won't you wake up?" He guessed this was Lindsay, but wasn't sure. "Mommy said you got hurt and would wake up when you feel better, but I wanted to know when that was, so I came here to ask you." He began to wonder the same question. "Are you healing, daddy?" He didn't know. The blackness gave no response. The girl grew impatient. "Please wake up!" He could hear the dam about to break. "I want you to tell me more about nanobots." She stifled a sob. "I can hear your heart beat, daddy. It's well. I feel your chest rise, so your breathing. What's wrong?" He felt a surge of emotion. He didn't want to deny this little girl her daddy, but the darkness clutched at him. He strained against it, but again did not have the strength.

[Naefen]

((uber stuff ))

[Jajangmyun]

((where's the rest of it? ))

[langwiz7]

Images began to come to him, odd images. Strange feelings of running just for the joy of it. But he wasn't sure of anything. Two elderly faces flickered in his mind, then vanished. He couldn't remember who they were. Then again, he heard that woman. "Jack...it's your birthday. You've been sleeping for 3 months now. Lindsay has almost given up hope. Please wake up." Her voice was tired. "Chase came home from Omni-Trans today to see you." Chase....who was Chase?

"Dad? I wish I could have come sooner. They're keeping me pretty busy at work, but I like what I'm doing. I wish you could be around. I've met someone. She's really great." Why didn't she talk about Chase before? I guess cause he's already grown up. "It's so hard to see you like this, Dad. You've always been around, helping me. Mom and my sister really miss you." His son's voice started to grow faint.

"Wait!" Jack shouted. The shadows crept around him. "No! He's not through!" They lashed out at him, curling around his limbs. He felt them tighten and then pull him to the ground as he strained to hear his son. "Let me go! I must wake up!" He felt his face touch the ground and he tried to push himself back up. Again his hands were ripped out from under him.

---

A solitus female nurse eyed Lindu playfully as he ran his finger around the styrofoam cup. '20,000 years in the future, and we still haven't progressed past this,' he thought. Oren sat across from him slumped in his chair, his chin on his chest and eyes closed. It was getting rather late, already past midnight. Lindu rubbed his eyes and thought about the time frame for the drugs. "He'll be singing like a canary by noon tomorrow, or he'll be insane by then." He mumbled to himself. Then, he finally made eye contact with that nurse. She blushed and smiled, then stood up and started over towards him. Lindu gave a slight shake of his head, and then looked around the breakroom. Then, he gave another motion towards a drug closet. He stood, and began making up things about a nonexistent patient needing some amphetamine. "Help me prepare the syringe, please." "Yes doctor." A little diversion would help pass the time.