Support me with power stones, give me some reviews and comments, and put this in your library so I know ya want more. It's a really good motivator for me, ya beautiful people!
════════════════
Quote of the Chapter:
"Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened."
— Dr. Seuss.
════════════════
He wasn't planning on doing anything special. Just grab a few things, head home, and call it a night.
He was walking out of a 7-Eleven, a plastic bag hanging loosely from his hand. Inside was a pack of gum, a can of Red Bull, and a bag of chips. The usual kind of stuff he picked up when he didn't feel like cooking or eating anything heavy.
The street was quiet in that late-night way where everything felt slower. He walked without much on his mind, just thinking about getting home, relaxing, and maybe putting on a movie.
The building wasn't far either, just down the block. It was old, a little worn down, but he didn't mind. It was cheap, and it had everything he needed.
There was an elevator, and technically it still worked, but he didn't trust it. Every time someone used it, it made sounds that didn't sit right with him, so, like always, he took the stairs instead.
He started up without thinking, the bag in his hand rustling softly with each step. The stairwell was dim, one of the overhead lights flickering every few seconds, but that wasn't anything new.
He kept going, one floor after another, until halfway up, his foot slipped.
There was no warning. His foot slid forward as his weight followed, his body tilting as he reached for the railing on instinct.
His hand missed.
His shoulder hit first, then his back slammed into the edge of a step, knocking the air out of him as the bag slipped from his grip. He tumbled, hitting one step after another, each impact worse than the last.
(CRAACK!! CRAACK!! CRAACK!!)
By the time he hit the bottom, nothing felt right.
He tried to move, but his body didn't respond. Pain was the only thing left, and even that was fading. His limbs wouldn't move. His neck was snapped.
The plastic bag landed a few steps above him, the contents spilling out. The Red Bull rolled down slowly, tapping against the concrete before coming to a stop near his hand.
The world started to fade.
Not all at once, but fast.
The surrounding sounds disappeared first. Then the feeling in his body. Then everything else followed until there was nothing left.
Then light filled everything around him, a bright light layered with shifting colors that surrounded him, moving in a way that seemed like a kaleidoscope. There was no ground, no sense of a body, just forward motion, as if he were being dragged somewhere against his will.
Another streak of light moved beside him, close enough that he could tell it was separate yet moving in the same direction. The two of them traveled together, cutting through the space like shooting stars.
As they moved, a man stepped out of a grey portal ahead, completely unfazed by what was happening around him. His eyes followed the two streaks as they passed, and without a word, he pulled out a magenta camera and took a picture, the flash briefly cutting through the colors.
He gave a small, satisfied smile, then turned and stepped through another portal as if he had somewhere else to be, disappearing just as quickly as he had appeared.
The two streaks of light kept moving forward, carried along by something neither of them could stop.
However, just as fast as this happened, everything quickly began to change around him. The kaleidoscope of colours began to disappear, and he began to feel as if he had weight around him once more.
Though his body felt sluggish, and it was almost like he couldn't breathe for a second before he focused and realized he could indeed breathe, but it was because something was inside his throat.
Something was in his throat, forcing air into him in steady bursts. It didn't feel natural. Each breath came with a faint resistance, as if it were being pushed in rather than drawn.
He then opened his eyes. His vision flickered, shapes barely forming through; everything looked distorted, like he was seeing through liquid.
He couldn't focus, and his vision began to fade once more incredibly fast. His body reacted before his mind could catch up. His muscles tensed, movement rough and uncoordinated as panic set in. He didn't know where he was. Didn't know what was happening. Just that something was wrong.
His leg shot forward, and the glass in front of him shattered.
The impact sent fragments flying as whatever was surrounding him burst outward. Fluid rushed with it, spilling across the floor as his body followed through, breaking free from whatever had been holding him in place.
He hit the ground hard.
Now we were back where we started
"…You gotta be fucking kidding me…"
His hand came up, pressing against his face as he tried to process anything that was happening. He could see technically. But everything looked wrong.
Blurry didn't even begin to describe it. Shapes barely held together, outlines smeared, like trying to watch something in quality so low it almost wasn't there. Movement was clearer than anything else, but details were gone.
Still, at least he wasn't completely blind or something like that. That would really suck. But besides his vision, everything else was razor sharp, to the point it was scary.
He could hear the faint hum running through the walls. The subtle shift of air around him. The distant echo of something moving far beyond the room. Even his own breathing sounded louder than it should.
He lowered his hand slowly, flexing his fingers as he took a step forward. His body felt strong, really strong, but also very relaxed, like gravity wasn't pressing down on him much.
Another thing he noticed was that he appeared to be holding back strength naturally, making him wonder what would happen if his body wasn't doing that.
"…What the hell…"
He turned his head slightly, the blurry shapes shifting with it, but he didn't need them as much as he thought he would. He could feel the surrounding space and understand where things were without fully seeing them.
He stood there for a second, letting himself adapt to these new senses. Then he let out a groan before shaking his head.
"Yeeaah… no."
His voice steadied, and he lifted his head to look at the guy in front of him.
"I got absolutely zero plans to stay in this place."
The man in front of him watched him for a moment, then slowly nodded.
"I see."
Then, with that, he shifted his stance. One foot slid back, posture lowering just enough to show intent without over-committing.
"Seven minutes,"
He said calmly, then let a small silence pass between them.
"That's the maximum amount of time I can spend playing with you."
#1113 blinked as all tension in his body disappeared in that moment.
"…Dude,"
He said, rubbing the side of his face,
"That has to be copyrighted, you're not Albert Wesker."
The man raised an eyebrow.
"…Who?"
#1113 paused before shaking his head, annoyed.
"…Never mind."
He let out a small breath, rolling his shoulders once as he reset himself, the earlier confusion settling into something more focused.
"Let's just get this over with."
In the next moment, they both rushed towards each other in a burst of speed. The distance between them vanished almost instantly; however, the man struck first with a straight punch that came in fast and aimed directly at his face.
#1113's body reacted immediately, his head tilting just enough for it to pass by. He didn't even realize he had moved until the air from the strike brushed against his cheek.
The follow-up came immediately, a hook from the side.
He raised his arm this time, blocking it, but the impact still pushed him back a step, his footing sliding slightly across the floor.
The man didn't let up for a second, rushing in again to close the distance, striking with a low kick.
#1113 lifted his leg just enough to avoid taking it clean, but it still clipped him, throwing off his balance for a second.
Then a palm strike aimed at his chest came soon after his slip-up.
He twisted, barely avoiding it, the strike grazing past him as he stumbled back.
"Shit..."
He muttered, breath uneven,
"Note to self…never mess with people that got white hair after I get out of here. They obviously must be good fighters..."
The man didn't acknowledge the experiment's commentary as another combination came in fast. A jab to draw his guard up, followed by a sharp elbow aimed at his head.
#1113 dodged once more with a step to the side and brought up his arms to block the elbow that sent him back once more.
The man stepped forward once more, pressing him, forcing him to stay on defense.
#1113's body kept reacting before his thoughts could catch up within the fight, which made him decide that she should try to think too hard and to trust his senses since they obviously were his leverage.
He started to focus more on dodging instead of taking the blows. Ducking under a punch, back flipping away from a kick to the chest, side-stepping a punch to the throat.
The man slowly began to get interested in how far and fast this experiment could go and started to move even faster, pushing the pace, chaining his attacks together with better precision. A jab to the chest, then a kick to his leg, followed by a feint to poke his eyes, then a quick step to the side to change angle.
#1113 however closed his eyes as he focused and began to dodge once more, moving to the side of the jab, blocking the kick with his own foot, leaning back to not get hit with the poke.
The man, seeing the chance, rotated his body with slightly higher speed and began to build up momentum as he used a roundhouse kick, cutting through the air with clean form, aimed straight for #1113's head.
However, #1113 did something that made him feel slight amusement; he raised his arm while looking at his leg and caught the leg mid-swing, trying to look cool; however, in doing so, his arm was stunned.
(BANG!)
#1113 blinked in surprise at the fact he actually managed to do that, looking at the leg in his hand before letting a small grin show on his face.
"…Oh."
His grip tightened slightly.
"…I'm absolutely awesome."
The man's expression didn't change; instead, he shifted his balance instantly, his body turned with the motion, not resisting the hold as his free leg came up and sent a sharp kick aimed straight at #1113's side.
#1113 reacted, dropping his free arm to block the blow.
(BANG!)
However, despite his efforts to defend himself from the blow, it sent him stumbling from the impact, which hit him hard enough to force his grip loose.
The man, now free, lowered his leg cleanly and slid back into his battle-ready stance
#1113 stepped back as well, shaking out his arm slightly.
The man tilted his head slightly, studying him.
"…You seem to be doing well for someone who has only been conscious for a few minutes."
#1113 rolled his shoulder once, letting out a snort
"Yeah, well… I don't really have a choice but to try my best to get out of here, do I?"
The man didn't respond immediately; a small smile formed on his face.
"…I see."
He took a step forward, then vanished, not even leaving behind an afterimage.
#1113's eyes widened slightly in shock and panic.
"—What?"
However, even as his senses warned him of what was going to happen, he was unable to move or correctly react to the speed the man displayed.
The air shifted in front of him, and the man was already there, closer than ever.
"This will be good,"
The man said calmly.
"I will enjoy having you here."
And then he sent a single punch. It didn't look very flashy in any way other than that it shook a bit as if it were vibrating.
As it touched his chest, #1113 folded in half as a shockwave tore through his body.
"—GHH—!"
His body lifted off the ground instantly as he was sent flying backwards before the sound of the hit exploded afterwards.
(BBBAAANNNGGG!!)
He slammed into the nearby pod, the one containing #1110.
Glass cracked on impact, spiderweb fractures spreading across the surface as his body hit hard enough to shake the entire structure, as the fluid inside sloshed violently.
The chamber groaned under the force.
#1113 slid down from the cracked surface, his body slumping against the base of the pod as he sat there for a second, coughing and trying to catch his breath.
"…Okay—yeah—that hurt like a bitch..." he muttered, one hand pressing against his chest.
The fractures in the glass spread further, and a sharp creak echoed through the room.
Then a fist was seen pressed against the inside of the pod. #1110 stared at the glass before pulling back his fist and punching forward, shattering the glass.
Fluid burst outward as #1110 forced his way through, stepping out without hesitation, landing cleanly on his feet, and began to breathe normally without the tube and with his eyes still staring at the white-haired man in front of him.
"…Alright,"
He said, rolling his shoulders once.
"I've learned enough."
#1113 blinked, still sitting there for a second before looking up at him.
"…You're on my side, right?"
#1110 glanced over at him before a grin began to spread across his face.
"Yeah,"
He said simply.
"Looks like we're in the same predicament anyway, so let's help each other out of here, what do you say?"
#1113 looked at the hand for a second, then reached up and grabbed it, pulling himself to his feet.
"Sure, that sounds pretty good right now."
He said, brushing himself off slightly.
"…Just try not to get your ass kicked, though. It would be pretty lame to get beaten up right after acting all cool."
#1110 let out a small chuckle.
"Are ya kidding me? After the crash course I just got from that guy over there."
He looked back at the man.
"There's no way in hell we lose if we team up."