It was as if the universe was slowly trying to pull itself back together again – I still could not feel, and the lights were still flared and sounds were still echoed. Where was I?
I heard a voice that was loud but unclear. Surely it could have only belonged to Brakewater, although my hour had not yet been, had it? No, the voice was deeper than Brakewater’s.
I tried to see this man, and through the pulsing of the lights I caught the shape of a despairingly familiar figure. That beard. His rectangular face. The way he held his hands behind his back. “Father?” I whispered.
His silhouetted body turned towards me and although I couldn’t see his caring eyes, I knew they were there.
“Yes dear?” I heard him say in his composed and calculated voice.
“Why are you here?” I asked him. “What happened to Brakewater?”
He stepped forward so that I could see the colours in his face, and there was a longing in his grey eyes. There was something wrong, although I just couldn’t place what it was.
“Oh, how I’ve missed you,” my father was saying.
“Missed me? Father I saw you only yesterday morning. You were going to go speak with Benson, remember?”
There was another voice that was younger than my fathers, but no less severe. “I doubt he can remember much, anymore.”
My god, it was the professor! The ringing in my head began again with increased fury. What was happening? Why couldn’t I understand?
The professor stepped into the light so that it shined against his circular glasses. “Your father isn’t important anymore,” he began to explain, “nor am I. What is important here, dear child, is you. Tell me, have you chosen a side yet?”
I shook my head loosely, mostly in confusion. “No,” I told him drearily, “I don’t have to choose.”
The professor straightened his glasses with his index finger and then smiled. “Ah, but you do, child. There’s no running from this – both Benson and Lace are equally evil men in their own way.”
“But I don’t know that Benson is evil…”
“Regardless, you have caught yourself in a perfectly impossible situation. You have a choice and you do not have a choice. You must choose either Benson or Lace, that is your choice – whether or not you pick one is out of your hands. In the end, someone is going to win this fight and that cannot be avoided.”
“Why did you build ATLAS?” I demanded.
“Because of the very reasons I just specified,” he answered brashly. “As I said, someone needs to win this war – I was merely speeding up the process. Consider, that had I not created the weapon men and women would continue to fight until more people on both sides were killed than the overall casualties inflicted by ATLAS.”
It was here that I realised how much he sounded like Lace, and my mind was opened to the deceit in his eyes. “I don’t believe you!”
“Abigail,” my father said, “please, do not shout.”
“Who are you?” I demanded, short of being unable to hear my own words over the loud and eternal trill inside my head. “Who are you and why are you here?” And then I remembered. The letter… Aizel… “You’re dead,” I stuttered. “Both of you. You both died so you can’t be real. You’re both dead! You’re both dead!”
“Abigail!” snapped the professor. “Stop it!”
“Neither of you are really here,” I said frantically. I slammed my eyes shut and tried to focus on what was real. I was sitting in a chair being tortured by Brakewater. The pain… that was real. I thought about my father and the professor, and then I thought about the pain. The ringing inside my head was deathly and overwhelming, like a grenade had exploded inside my eardrums. “You’re not real!” I shouted.
The sounds stopped, I opened my eyes, the lights were back to normal, and they were gone. I felt an anguished smile creep upon my lips that for the life of me I couldn’t explain. What reason was there to smile?
“It’s good to see you smile,” said Aizel. I couldn’t tell if he had walked into the room just then, or if he had already been here.
“Aizel,” I uttered, “my father and the professor… they’re dead.” I felt another tear drip down my cheek.
Aizel offered a solemn expression. “I’m afraid so, and it looks like you’ll be the same unless you give Lace what he wants.”
I cringed at him. “What are you saying, Aizel! That code is the only thing that’s keeping Lace or Benson from killing me. It’s the only thing of value that I have left!”
Aizel shook his head. “You really ought to have more faith in humanity. What are you going to do then? Sit here and be tortured?”
“No,” I returned, “I’m going to be… rescued…”
Aizel’s lips told me that he was a traitor, and his eyes told me that he was sorry. In the end, Aizel was my very last chance, even though he still worked for Benson. Who’s left for me to believe in now? Who can I trust? Where am I safe?
“Abigail, it’s time to give up. Give us the code and be free, because I can assure you that no matter how far you run, there’s no escaping that code… well, other than death.”
I spat and headbutted him in the nose – he glared at me.
“I will find another way,” I challenged.
“Dammit Abigail, how long are you going to keep this up? It’s time to wake up.” He took me by the shoulders. “Wake up Abigail!”
It seemed the echoes were back.
“Wake up… it’s time… wake up…”
The lights were back, brighter than ever; the sound was back in my head; the pain had at last returned. There was a severe pressure on the side of my neck and I opened my eyes to see double-versions of Brakewater sitting right in front of me. It looked like he was inspecting something, and then I saw him swing something sharp and stab it into my neck.
Whatever it was it brought me to life again. I leaned forward and inhaled a massive gulp of air, and I knew that I had returned to reality… I think.
I faintly heard Brakewater’s dull voice gradually get louder and louder – I guess that was just my senses coming full circle. “Abigail,” he said, right in my face. “Abigail, can you hear me?”
I nodded. “Yeah,” I murmured. “What happened?”
“Your body went into shock. We were able to bring you back but unless you tell us the code we will have no choice but to continue to level ten.”
I stared at him with what I imagined were shallow eyes, and I didn’t breathe a word.
“Listen to me, Abigail. You were murmuring to yourself before you passed out. You’ve done well to last this long but you’re slipping…”
“Six. Five. Seven. Three.”
Brakewater was caught off guard, and even more so, he was confused as to why I stopped.
I managed a smile. “You know, this chair is awfully uncomfortable.” I flexed my fingers. “Let me stretch my legs, just for five minutes, and then I’ll give you another four digits.”
I was surprised to see that he didn’t hesitate – I had thought that he was too careful and too evil to allow a mercy such as this. To be entirely honest, I wasn’t expecting to make an escape, how could I? If I did manage to take on Brakewater there were two other guards for me to fight, and obviously, I’m not much of a fighter.
ns 172.69.6.236da2