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015 - Dream Sequence 1: The Future Revisited

 
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PostPosted: Tue Jun 01, 2010 3:04 am    Post subject: 015 - Dream Sequence 1: The Future Revisited Reply with quote Add User to Ignore List

NDR: This multi-part side story was mostly written in 2004, but it was never posted as part of Midnight Dawn because a chapter wasn't running at that time. Because events in chapter 10 have rendered it much more accessible, I'll be posting it up throughout chapter 11. Here's some back information:

[p:2m454jxj]Shadow was my original character. He appeared in chapter 3 claiming to be a time-traveler on a mission to kill a man named Darkness. According to Shadow, Darkness destroyed the world in the future, and the Freedom Fighters had to stop him. At the conclusion of chapter 3, the Freedom Fighters failed and Darkness destroyed planet earth as the heroes escaped to another planet. Chapter 4 was largely a tale of their recovery on this new planet.[/p:2m454jxj]
[p:2m454jxj]However in chapter 5 things got hazy. The Freedom Fighters were awakened from a long dream, and found that they had been in a dream world (referred to as stasis) which Hunt had created to occupy them while he enslaved the very much still-intact planet earth. As Midnight Dawn carried on the group easily accepted that the peculiar events at the end of chapter 3 and throughout chapter 4 were a dream, however for Shadow it wasn't quite so easy.[/p:2m454jxj]
[p:2m454jxj]Given the timing of his arrival, and the 'future' that he remembered, it was apparent that Shadow had never known any life outside of Hunt's dream. Prior to his awakening with the rest of the heroes in chapter 5, his entire life appeared to be a fabrication created by someone within Hunt's Tech organization. He refused to fully accept this, and spent the rest of his life seeking out an explanation for his existence, convinced to his dying day that Darkness was real and would one day have to be confronted.[/p:2m454jxj]
[p:2m454jxj]Shadow left the rest of the Freedom Fighters at the end of chapter 8. His friend Glenn Franklin (my current main character) pursued him and found him dead, with no explanation and nothing remaining except for his sword, the Zicron Blade. Glenn took this sword and trained with it, finding its powers both completely unique and difficult to harness.
In chapter 10, while fighting a wizard named Tyne who utilized an unknown form of demonic magic, his sword reacted violently. From this point his odd visions began:[/p:2m454jxj]

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"The devil is within you! May he consume you!"
With these words one of Tyne's minions had triggered a powerful reaction in the Zicron Blade - one that Glenn could not control, and one that had crippled him for days. The wounds had long healed, but the consequences ran deeper. Ever since then, his connection with the sword had grown far more severe. He slept with it by his side now, and could not venture from his home or the Freedom Fighters' base without it for long. He should have told Serj while he still could; that strange man was gone again, his objectives always a mystery.

The dreams began as short, undecipherable visions. It was only months later, on the first night of the God of Fight tournament, that the first full sequence struck him. Its details remained with him vividly and in full into the next morning, as though they were real experiences, but stranger still, they were not his memories at all. They were the memories of an old friend.

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Fragile Infinity vol. 1
I.

"It's a failure I say. How can we possibly guide him?"
"Guide him? We need only teach him to hate, and he will require no further assistance. Blind anger and rage are more powerful than logic."
"Foolish. His allegiance will crumble with the pointing of a finger."
"And can be bought back just as easily. If we grant him the truth, we grant him also a choice. There are many who would side with Kinroth."
"And when he is released, what shall you tell him? Magical pixies have transported him to another dimension? Have you truly thought this through my friend?"
"A child would believe that."
"He is not a child."
"Nor will my explanation be quite so ridiculous. Besides, few men doubt what they see with their own eyes, and as long as he remains here I am in full control of that."

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White. Everything was white, almost blinding. 'What a horrible color,' he thought as he shifted his eyes around the room. A hospital... 'Why am I in a hospital?' Nothing. His mind was a hazy mess. He could remember fighting something. He could remember his sword. He could see its silver sheen, its black metallic hilt, with that single milky-white stone imbedded at the bottom. He could picture it soaring through the air. He could see it slashing, hacking, destroying enemies that existed only in a blur of misplaced memories. Then he saw it fall. He felt as it was wrenched from his hands by some unseen evil. Something terrifying.

The detail was nevertheless refreshing - something familiar in an otherwise empty world. He could remember words. He could speak, and recognize objects for what they were, but... 'What was my name?' The sword was called the Zicron Blade. He knew this. Any further thought gave him a headache. He closed his eyes, blocking out the confusion. Sleep seemed peaceful enough.

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"You're doing much better."

He opened his eyes to see another man, wearing white of course.

"How much do you remember," the man asked. A name tag indicated Dr. Zahow.

Silence. Questions gave him a headache. Thinking gave him a headache.

"The sooner we know your condition, the sooner we can help you."

"I remember a sword. That's all," he sputtered. A simple movement of the lips caused amazing strain. They fell shut like rocks, and he resolved not to speak again.

"It will be a long recovery" was all the doctor allowed himself to say. A week later little had changed.

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This room was torture. It was bad enough to be here at all. He couldn't stand up; they had him strapped down well enough to disable any of that. He couldn't even daydream, with no memories whatsoever to go on. The headaches never went away, except when he focused on the sword, and those thoughts became so repetitive that the pain seemed a welcome relief.

Dr. Zahow would check in often enough, but spoke little of interest. "You were in an accident. You've lost your memory." Obviously. "You may remember a few things over time, but I'm sorry to say most is gone for good." Wonderful. "You're lucky to be alive at all." Lie in this bed for seven days and tell me that.

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On the nineth or tenth day, it didn't matter which, another man walked in. Whatever he was here for, it had to be good, because he wasn't wearing white. That plain black business suit was a robe fit for kings.

"You will not remember me, but I know you well. I am Dr. Quacy, and I've come to reclaim you." The name sounded pleasantly familiar. "Though your memories are gone, your strength will remain an invaluable asset to our team," the man said, as he unfastened the numerous binding straps around the patient. "What is your name?"

"Do you ask this to mock me?" he sat upright, able to move freely for the first time he could recall. "I am but a shadow of the man you knew. I have no name."

"Well then, Shadow, perhaps you would like to reacquaint yourself with the world. You'll find moving may be difficult at first, but such skills should quickly return." Quacy left the room, expecting Shadow to follow. There was certainly no hesitation.

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The facility seemed for all practical purposes to be a regular hospital. At least, there was nothing strikingly uncharacteristic about it. Shadow hobbled as best he could, cursing more than once with impatience at his less than willing, wobbly legs. Quacy stood idly by at an elevator two hallways down. As they entered in silence, Shadow noted the first abnormality. Three floors. He couldn't rightly remember being in a hospital before, but it seemed to him they should be much taller.

And he knew for certain this building was out of the ordinary when B1, B2, B3, B4 passed by in a matter of seconds. When the elevator finally did come to rest at B32, despite opening up to a floor almost identical to the one he'd left, suspicions were high. People moved about in small quantities, all dressed in white. Two entered the elevator as Shadow stepped out, and though he looked not long at them he could sense their staring eyes. Those they passed marching down the corridors all reacted in some way or another. They seemed to stand taller, walk straighter, hold their heads up as they passed by. It was not him they esteemed, Shadow concluded. Dr. Quacy governed an almost sovereign presence among the entire staff. He suddenly felt invisible, and extremely out of place.

Before long they reached the reception room, and looking past the doors Shadow realized for the first time that it could be night. The very thought of it had escaped him until now, surrounded so long by glaring lights that never dimmed. He stared absently at the speck of darkness as Quacy signed a few papers. Then, with a quick nod from the doctor, they headed out.

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The world outside was very dark. Shadow looked up to confirm that not a star was in the 'sky'. He had not forgotten what floor they were on. The area seemed narrow, also. He could vaguely make out solid stone walls on either side. "I have no recollection of this place," he said suddenly. "Should I?"

"You have been here before," Quacy calmly responded, and said no more. As they walked further out in to the darkness, Shadow felt a fool for speaking at all. Something in Quacy's authoritative figure intimidated him.

Before he was even aware of its presence, the two came to a halt in front of a small car, nearly invisible in the dark. The vehicle started as Quacy sat down, and as soon as Shadow took his seat on the passenger's side it took off. There were no headlights. Shadow held his tongue from more ignorant questions, but Quacy answered anyway. "It knows where it's going."

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A few minutes later, Quacy slouched a bit and loosened his tie, finally dispersing his staunch demeanor to at least some degree. "Relax," he said. "It will be a long ride, and there is much to tell."

Shadow remained tense, but tried to ease back a little bit, more out of demand than desire.

"I cannot tell you who you once were, for that man is dead and gone now, and you must mold your own existence. I can tell you where we are, and why we are here. I can tell you why you are important to us. That is all," Quacy stared straight ahead as he spoke. Without turning his head in the slightest, he rolled down a window slightly and lit a cigarette. The night was cold. It was not a pleasant chill either; the air felt jagged as it whistled by. It bit sharply, disturbed from its stagnant stance for the first time in who knew how long. Though the hospital had been occupied, the cave here seemed desolate and empty.

"We are citizens of the Western Alliance. Our territory consists of North and South America, and Europe. We are enemies of the Eastern Alliance, which consists of Asia and Africa. That is all you really need to know about the world," Quacy concluded. It seemed odd to Shadow. He remembered the continents well enough. He knew what North America was. He knew what Asia was. These 'Alliances' on the other hand sounded completely new to him.

"We are currently passing through a hidden entrance to a small underground military base in eastern Europe, only a few miles from the most disputed border region between the two Unions. You are a soldier in the Western army." Quacy paused again to inhale his cigarette, and let the very basic information sink in. This seemed a lot more appropriate to Shadow. He was a soldier. He ought to be a soldier. It was the sword.

"On a recent mission you received severe cerebral damage. This is how you lost your memory. Great were our own losses recovering you, but it was necessary. You are valuable to us. You possess amazing strength and vitality, and an innate ability to wield a weapon few others are remotely competent with."

"Where is my sword," Shadow asked. "I wish to see it."

"You will," Quacy said bluntly, and flicked the remnants of his cigarette out the window.

Shadow waited impatiently for more, but nothing followed. Quacy just stared straight ahead, as he had from the start, and uttered not a word. For one having 'much to tell', he'd certainly not been very informative. Shadow studied his face for the first time. He sported a short, stubby beard, and deep-seated bags under each of his dark brown eyes to compliment the wrinkles in his brow. He had a finely pointed nose, and raven-black hair that appeared even more prominently in his bushy eyebrows than in his slicked back hair. ... Minutes passed before Shadow worked up the courage to ask another question. "Who is responsible for my... condition?" He spoke hesitantly.

"A man named Darkness, if you can consider him a man. He's more like a demon in flesh."

A siren went off in Shadow's head. The name may have been ridiculous, but it touched base. He remembered it. He remembered it rather unpleasantly, what's more. It was that thought at the end of his dream. The one he could not place before. Darkness did this to me..... "I will kill him." Shadow sat upright again; the nervousness was swept from his body. He was resolute.

"That was your purpose once, and so shall it be again," Quacy turned his head finally, and looked into his eyes. "You can destroy him. We cannot."

The rest of the ride continued in silence, but of a different kind. Shadow had a goal now. He did not know what Darkness was, but that did not matter. He had a purpose again. He would kill Darkness in revenge for his lost mind. It was a reason to live.

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The vehicle came to rest, and as Shadow stepped out he tried to make what he could of the pitch black surroundings. They seemed to be at a dead end. Nothing but a solid stone wall. As soon as Quacy emerged however, a voice spoke out of nowhere. "Opening, sir!"

A blinding pillar of light cut through the wall in front of them, as the stones slowly slid open to reveal a heavily guarded chamber. Men in full body armor ran out to inspect the car as Quacy and Shadow stepped inside, and more ran up to quickly inspect them. Apparently even Quacy, whatever important position he held, was bound by these precautions. They were cleared soon enough, and moved further in. Shadow could not see much; his eyes, finally graced with darkness, had to readjust once more to overbearing light. This first room was small, as were the next two they passed. Each contained its own supply of guards, though their procession was not again halted. In the end was an elevator. Nothing more. They took it down three floors, and exited into a very plain hallway. The walls, ground, and ceiling were all a solid white. Lovely.

The floor had a very symmetric, simplistic design. If one could see it from above, it would look like a giant square cut into fourths by two crossing hallways, with a larger hall surrounding the perimeter. Shadow assumed the other floors were the same. They walked for a bit towards the center, and came to a halt in front of a seemingly random door on the left side. 3527.

"This will be your room for now," Quacy said as he opened the door and stepped inside. It was very small; The bed took up the entire far wall, and the rest held just enough room for a small desk and dresser. There were no windows, obviously. "The floor you just left and those above it are off limits, as are all of the levels below you, but they require an access card anyway. A latrine is located at the end of every hall. The chow hall is floor B34, just above you. They're closed at the moment. It's 1am. You're probably not tired, but I recommend you get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day. I will send someone for you at precisely 0900. You'd best have eaten by then. ...And there are clothes in the dresser. Do be sure to change before he arrives."

As Quacy turned to leave, shutting the door behind him, Shadow noticed for the first time that he was still wearing a hospital gown. Feeling quite embarrassed, he immediately turned to the dresser to find something more suitable, despite the fact that no one was looking now. Inside were three pair of brown underwear, three pair of white socks, and two rather generic grey uniforms, tops and bottoms. A grey belt. A white toothbrush. One container of toothpaste. One bar of soap. One white towel. One roll of toilet paper. A wristwatch... well, at least that was remotely creative. In the corner where the door had been he noticed a single pair of standard issue black combat boots. A white night robe lay folded on top of his bed. The hospital gown looked better. Hopping onto the mattress, Shadow realized that he was actually quite tired. Despite the short amount of time he'd been free, after so many days in bed any movement at all could wear a man out. He slept with relative peace, considering the circumstances.

---------------------------------------

Shadow awoke around 7am, put on the grey uniform, and decided to attempt breakfast. Though he'd not noticed the night before, there were actually three elevators, not one, so the line wasn't much. He stood in silence, and no one around him seemed to pay him any attention whatsoever. They all looked the same, in those dirty grey jackets and pants. He wondered if they could even recognize each other. Moore. Jackson. Stevens. Their names were all common and unimportant. Shadow's uniform bore an empty nameplate, but no one noticed or cared. He loaded on with six others, and they all spoke little of interest. Personal squabbles and community gossip. Nothing relevant whatsoever.

The door slid open a few seconds later, and its contents spilled out into a very standard-looking cafeteria. There was no check-in or cash register that Shadow could make out. He just strolled up to one of the two lines forming ahead, grabbed a tray, and soon enough he was walking off with eggs, pancakes, and the works. The tables were in long rows. He picked the nearest that looked relatively unoccupied, and sat down for breakfast. It was really quite good. Having experienced only hospital food beforehand, this was of little surprise, but Shadow felt that it went beyond that. At least one thing wasn't boring in this prison-like establishment. It was odd, he felt suddenly, that there were no females here. He couldn't picture any in his head. His new eyes had never even seen one. Yes, come to think of it, everyone in the hospital was male as well. Oh well, not that it mattered... On the way back downstairs he stopped in the latrine for a moment, and was reminded of another thing he'd definitely lacked in his past two weeks of consciousness. A shower.

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At 0900 a properly washed, fed, and clothed Shadow stood in the doorway waiting for whoever it was that would fetch him. About two minutes later a young, blonde-haired boy came up to the door. He couldn't have been over 19. What struck Shadow more than this however, was that he had no name either.

"Shadow is it? Follow me," he said in a rather childish voice, and turned back down the hall without any further acknowledgment. Shadow complied.

There was no further line at the elevator. Everyone had gone on to their duties for the day. They entered the middle one, and as the doors closed Shadow questioned him. He felt far more comfortable talking to him than to Quacy. "What is your name?"

"Zero," the boy said passively, while swiping an ID card through the identifier provided and following it up with a thumb print scan.

"Zero? What sort of name is that?" Shadow asked, tossing out any sort of formality he'd meant to maintain.

"What sort of name is Shadow?" Zero replied. "We have no real names here, though most yet recall a time when they did."

"Everyone else I've seen today had a name," Shadow retorted, somewhat insulted by the comment.

"We are not them. We are above them. The important have no names. It's too dangerous. Imagine if the commander's family was held ransom," Zero explained.

"What are we then, exactly?" Shadow prodded further.

"We are Team Delta, one of six elite task forces in the Western Alliance, and the finest might I add. Our mission here, ...well, it will all be explained soon enough, when you meet the rest of the team."

Shadow nodded, and the elevator came to rest at B48.

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This room was significantly different from the others he'd seen. It was much smaller for one thing, and, thank God, the walls weren't white. The floor was a dark chrome tiling, and the walls all bore a metallic sheen. It was only one straight hallway, with 3 offices on either side, visible through large glass windows. All were unoccupied at the present, and contained all sorts of odd gadgets. It was certainly not a pen-pusher's workspace. Most were cluttered, with tools strewn about and weapons of varying sort leaning up against the walls. The last on the left was empty, and blinds blocked any view of the room across from it. At the far end was a closed metal door, and towards that they proceeded.

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The door opened up to reveal Quacy at the head of a square table, with three others seated down its length, one on the left and two on the right. The room was very messy. Stacks of papers were scattered across the table, and maps, charts, and newspaper clippings hung in a haphazard manner all over the place, completely smothering whatever wall might lie underneath. Behind Quacy towered a giant projection screen, blank at the moment. Zero took his seat on the left side, and Shadow uncomfortably followed suit. Everyone in the room was staring at him, silent.

"Welcome back... Shadow," Quacy began. "Welcome back to Team Delta. May I reacquaint you with your associates here. Clockwise from me, I introduce you to Leo, ...George," George shrugged his shoulders. Quacy had never quite accepted the name he chose. "Falcon, and, of course you've already met Zero."

Shadow scanned the three new faces as quickly as he could manage. Leo was old...very old, and he didn't try to hide it, either. He maintained a white beard that reached nearly to the table, and his hair was a matted mess, with patches missing here and there. Their eyes met for a second, and it gave Shadow somewhat of a shock. Leo's eyes were bright - unnaturally so. Uncomfortably so. He quickly turned his to the next man. George was almost entirely different. He had a very carefree and instantly likable aura about him. He looked childish, not in a youthful sense like Zero, but as one who never quite grew up. His black hair was just barely long enough for Shadow to tell that he'd forgotten to comb it that morning, or simply neglected to. Next to Shadow sat Zero, and beyond him Falcon. He had a plain, featureless face, and everything from his short brown hair to his mellow brown eyes gave Shadow the impression of an entirely ordinary man in his late 20s.

"This, Shadow, is your new life." He turned his attention back to Quacy, who was now standing. "This is Team Delta. This is your home. We are a special forces team of the highest caliber, privy to the most important tasks our nation has to offer, and physically prepared to conquer them. Though your memories are gone Shadow, I'm sure you'll find your training intuitive. Now I may elaborate on your condition. Our current task has been to find and eliminate a very prominent figurehead in the Eastern Alliance. He is known only by the alias Darkness, and his official rank as best we can tell is completely undefined, but all those around him seem to obey his every order. He is seen as a major threat, both because of the amazing authority he wields, and because his intentions are almost entirely unknown to us. We fear he may be plotting something that even the Eastern Alliance is unaware of. He is currently working out of Fort Kinski, a mountainous base in the Urals headed by General Drokon."

All of the information was entirely new to Shadow, save that Darkness was evil. This he knew, somehow. It wasn't just the silly name. Quacy went on. "We attempted to infiltrate the camp and eliminate Darkness once before, but we were unsuccessful. You, Shadow, faced him one on one, but you were defeated. The team refused to abandon you, and we fought back, but in the process the seventh member of our team, Gracrom, was taken captive. With two men down, we could accomplish no more at the time, and we have now regrouped to try again. Your loss of memory will hinder us slightly, but is far less severe than your loss entire would have been. Our new mission is to infiltrate Fort Kinski, free Gracrom if he is still alive at all, and then, once again, to eliminate Darkness. Security will be tighter, guards more alert, eyes more watchful. This shall be our most difficult mission yet, and our finest. There is little time to lose; we leave in five days. In the meantime, you will be briefed on the structure of the fort and the customs of its army, and briefly retrained in our techniques. Though I doubt you'll have forgotten, you will need to be refreshed. Report to Leo first for information, and Zero will take care of your combat skills. That is all. This meeting is adjourned."

The others stood, and Shadow did likewise a second later. "It's good to have you back," Falcon stated, shaking his hand, and others made similar gestures as they filed out of the room. Shadow stood behind, assuming there must be more. There was, of course.

Quacy turned to him, and a smile broke across his face. "Now then, about that sword of yours."
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