Heya, this is the release of Chapter 4 for free. If you liked this, have Minds+, and want to support me, consider clicking HERE and upvoting/reminding the plus version of this post. Enjoy!

==========================

Click here to go Back to Chapter 3

==========================

Chapter 4: Interface

Captain Jace

One hour after sunset

Abandoned office ventilation

Jace cursed, crawling through the vent covered in his own blood. He bound his arm with makeshift gauze and wrapped with scraps of cloth. Despite his best efforts, he still bled through the bandaging. There was no other excuse, other than pure stupidity, to climb into a vent with a wild animal. Still, perhaps bleeding to death was a mercy over whatever that lurking drone had in store. God, the pain was intense though. Worst yet, he had no clue where that damn creature went either. A solid punch to its nose sent it flying backwards through the vent system. He was expecting to catch a full mouth of teeth to the ass, the ductwork gave it plenty of opportunity to flank him.

He was set on finding Knight, despite everything else. And as he pushed forward, the slope trailed downwards and for a long distance. A chill shot up his spine, followed by a deep shiver setting in his bones. Panic, and the fear of falling asleep was the only thing keeping him warm. Anemia started to cause drops in body heat. If he couldn’t find a way to clot this wound closed, he was going to die. 

Every inch became a fight to stay warm. The shivering transformed into violent shakes. A painful tug at his arm stopped him in place as he found the trail of blood that he left behind suddenly froze solid straight from his arm. A wave of relief washed over him; he wasn’t bleeding out anymore. Followed by another storm front of panic. He somehow had left the HVAC ducts and had found himself in refrigerating ventilation. The puffs of breath he exhaled turned to a cloud of powder in front of him. Even the tears in his eyes started to freeze. He looked down and found a vent just below his quickly numbing arm. 

With as much of a hop as he could manage, he slammed his uninjured elbow into the grating. Ice burst from the surface, ricocheting everywhere. Another bounce and he laid into the dented surface and a slight moan reverberated from the material throughout the ductwork. The sway of the vents synchronized with his shivering. Another raise of his torso begot a follow-up hammer of his arm into the metal. This time, his stomach launched into his throat and a sharp crash rang out. The entire duct gave out and him with it. How far the drop, he didn’t know. As he braced for impact, the structure beneath him smashed into his ribs and shoulder. 

Unable to catch his breath, he writhed and kicked, his left arm spasmed and locked into place against his body. His right hand couldn’t find enough grip strength to pull him from his iron tomb. Copper was the sole taste in his mouth. The dry, arctic air chilled him enough to make his nose bleed. Or maybe he had severe head trauma and his brain was sliding out his nose. 

Unable to pull himself forward, he curled his arm up under his head. His eyelids became heavy. The cold stopped bothering him so much. It was almost like laying down in the bunker. He could deal with that. Between the wind knocked out of him, the blood loss, and the blunt force from the fall, his will was losing out to the siren call of slumber.

A sharp pain in his ankle, and his head bouncing off a bit of metal jutting out from the collapsed vent shocked him back from the verge. He gathered strength and turned himself. A chromed strand dug into his leg and was drawing him out of the vent. It looked like a plug cable, the same kind of wiring they previously used to neural link pilots to Upright Tank command seats. Obsoleted for several reasons, the tech was replaced years ago for pair-conscious AI. Well, ‘several reasons’ was the political answer, they got rid of it because it killed pilots more than enemy engagement.

As he got to the end of the duct, the pain in his ankle ceased for a moment before he found himself in a dizzied spin, snatched up by his ankle and suspended upside down. Through blurred vision, he could make out two figures. The Shepherds.

“He has been marked.” The first Shepherd said, turning his head to the second.

“The Lady will not be pleased.” The second said, tilting to the first.

“This one survived, perhaps there is hope of reprieve.” The first said, pointing at Jace’s face.

“Reprieve, yes. He has not been claimed. The Lady may find mercy for us.” The second said, staring back, unmoving.

“Mercy, let us hope for mercy from our Lady.” The first said, turning down the hall, Jace dangling from the first Shepherd’s grip.

“Put me down. Now!” Jace shouted, anger welling. He received a backhand to his still-tender torso, squelching his rage.

“Silence.” The second Shepherd lowered his arm.

Jace bucked, trying to wiggle from the shackled grasp tensed as he found himself being whipped around, finding the blurred visage of the walls whispering words of danger to his nose. He slowed and bounced off the side of the first Shepard’s shin, coming to a sudden rest.

“Resistance is suffering. Be still.” The second said as he started towards the door at the end of the hall, a dim emerald glow pulsed from the seams of the door frame. Jace wanted nothing to do with what was behind there. Despite his vision dancing and weaving, he found his carbine thrown from back, likely after the fall, and landed at the far end of the room. There was only one shot of grabbing it. He let his body go limp and closed his eyes. Three more steps. 

Oh Lord, help me strike my foes true.

One.

Guide my hand to thine sword.

Two.

Deliver me from the wrath of those who stand against us.

Three.

With a twist that sent pain surging through every corner of his body, he delivered a heel to the chin of the Shepherd, staggering him. A second strike upwards put both Jace and the gaunt stick of a man on the ground. Jace rolled and slid over to the carbine, holding it out with his good arm as his hand lost grip against the damp concrete wall, his feet sliding against the slick tile floor. The muzzle danced as he struggled. The first Shepherd regained his poise, and the two stood shoulder-to-shoulder unmoving, their faces expressionless. 

“I’m getting the fuck out of here, and you’re not stopping me.” Jace shivered, it must have been the adrenaline, but it was more like convulsing. 

A familiar sensation, but one he wasn’t in the mind to recollect where at the moment. With one arm and two legs slipping and sliding around, he managed to make some distance between the two, and away from the green door. He found a spot where the floor and wall were dry, giving him enough traction to get upright. Not willing to turn his back on the two, he retreated without looking where he was going and stumbled head-over-heels, from an object about waist-height.

“Fool, don’t go that way. It’s a ruse!” the five-eyed beast snarled at him. Jace fell prone and found himself point-blank with the creature from the vents. He picked up the carbine to butt-strike the monster in its snout.

Before he could lean back fully, the beast snapped its jaws at his leg. It was in that moment, he remembered where he felt that same kind of uncontrollable and violent quivering. Neuron symbiote kinesis. When a pilot first uptakes a plug cable, if the technician doesn’t apply the proper amount of neuralizer to the injection sites of the pilot’s spinal column, or the pilot is incompatible with the type of neuron solvent used, they’ll enter rejection. The symptoms of neural rejection, otherwise known as Plug Rejection, range from a light fever to hallucinations and if not treated in a timely manner with adequate clean room isolation, resulted in death.

It felt like the creature gnawed on every cell in his body. As if he emerged from a pricker bush, spines punctured every skin cell, every muscle fiber. As if a thrashing, gnarled root hammered against every bone in his body like a plumber cutting pipework with a cutter. A digging corkscrew sensation embedded itself within the top of his jaw, slithered into, and scraped out the insides of Jace’s teeth, like 32 dentists giving him a root canal on each tooth at the same time, no anesthesia. The insides of his eyelids felt like the creature dragged its teeth across them. The phantom pain of his tonsils felt like the creature excavated them both over and over with the snap of its jaw.

Jace wanted to scream but lacked the control over even the basic functions of his body to do so. It felt like his heart was given to someone learning how to drive clutch. His lungs had simultaneously filled to bursting and emptied, devoid of any semblance of air. His organs flipped and danced within his torso. Every cell in his body wanted to move in a different direction all at once.

Struggling to hold himself together, he could make out basic silhouettes moving around him, and it was clear he was bathed in a brilliant green light. Afar, he heard kneecaps slamming against tile. Near, the patter of bare feet.

“We’ve brought The Lady tribute.” The Shepherds said in unison.

“I suppose this will do.” A voice called out. He’d heard it before. He’d forgotten why he was even here.

Pain started to subside from Jace’s being. He could feel his hair being combed as air managed to find its way into his lungs, and his heart came back into rhythm. The rush of blood in his ears calmed.

“What a pair we make.” The familiar stranger said with a calm, sultry voice. Locks of hair tickled his face.

His eyes focused, and the figure came into view. It was her. Knight.

==========================

Chapter 5 Coming Soon

==========================

If you enjoyed this work, please leave a like, comment and follow.

If you love it, please remind. 

If you have Minds+ consider clicking HERE to go to the plus version and upvoting, this directly supports me. 

Thank you again for reading!

Art by Mikko Kautto