AN - Short story, I graduated! Sadly, I lost most of my work. I have most of my notes though, so we back to the grind boys. In compensation, here's a prologue. It's not much, but there's going to be much more in the coming days. Cheers

Vice Hero

ARC 1 - Welcome to Midgar

Chapter 0 - Prologue

I awoke to the sounds of screaming and an all-encompassing burning sensation.

For one paralyzing and painful second, I wondered if I was trapped in some hellish nightmare. I wasn't feeling burning in the conventional sense—that would've been too much of a blessing. Instead, it felt like my skin had been stripped off and salted, and then dipped in bleach for good measure. It was a mind-numbing pain.

Nothing felt right or real. The only sensation I felt was the feeling that my nerves had been seared and were sizzling just underneath the surface of my skin. Everything else was too painful, too strange to describe. My eyesight was plagued with images superimposing themselves over everything. My mind reeled from the sensations trying to focus on anything else. I wondered if I was having a nightmare. What was real? Was I in the middle of some lake, or was I in a baseball stadium? I tried to garner a sense of detachment to flee from the alien sensations.

It didn't work.

A beat later I began clawing at myself and adding to the screams already at play in response to the stimulation overload. Strange, heavy liquid filled my mouth as soon as I started screaming—bringing with it a new wave of mind-numbing agony. I couldn't handle the sensation that it brought and everything turned a dim shade of grey. It wouldn't be right to say that I passed out, more of everything else got dimmer and more distant.

The new mindset brought a spike of fear that shot through me. It shunted the creeping stupor that was upon me off. I wasn't sure what was going on, or what had happened, but with the spike of fear came a moment of lucidity. I couldn't pass out here.

I had to get away.

I promptly tried to flail around. To my surprise, nothing happened despite my efforts. My body was unresponsive to what I wanted it to do. A headache was forming that I was intensely aware of, and I was very aware of everything happening to my body. The limbs were shorter than what I was used to, but I didn't worry about it. A surge of panic flooded through me upon realizing my lack of control and coordination over my body.

My throat burned just as deeply as the rest of me when the liquid filled it. I spluttered as much of it out as I could. The searing pain was seeping inside of me and eating away. The introduction of more pain let me see through the ghost images plaguing me and I became positive that I was slowly sinking into the strange colored lake. My eyes widened in surprise—not by my own volition.

After realizing this my arms flailed desperately scrambling for purchase. Somehow, I managed to catch onto something. I felt disconnected through the whole process—I was slowly realizing that my actions weren't my own. Another surge of fear went through me when I realized what was going on.

I wasn't in control—but I was aware.

The panic from realizing my lack of control spiked further. I needed to be in control. I knew that as surely as I knew something strange was going on. The body I was in responded to my fear and started flailing more violently. It slowly dragged it's head out of the heavy liquid and took in huge gulping breaths. I felt relief flood through the body. It was perhaps the strangest thing so far, being forced to feel emotions not my own. I focused on something other than the fact I had even less control than I thought, ignoring signals from the body. The bluish-green liquid seemed like mercury with how it was shifting around as if it had a mind of its own.

Screaming dragged me out of my thoughts. It sounded strange and distorted. I focused on why that was—only to feel my ears start burning the next second. The question answered itself it seemed.

I was worried that I hadn't realized that the screaming had stopped from when I first became aware. I listened to the drawn out scream slowly taper off. It was now eerily quiet and all I could hear were the shuddering breaths I had no control over. The body was now trembling, but managed to hold itself above the water on whatever was grabbed.

I wanted to look for the source of the screaming.

Instead, the head turned and looked at what had saved my life.

The eyes quickly trailed down the arm to see it hooked deeply through a rusty girder. With horror, I realized that the body wasn't holding itself up—it was impaled and unable to sink down. This is why I needed to be in control, I wouldn't have panicked and made things worse. I was slowly getting used to the pain, but I felt the body going into shock staring at its injuries.

I watched the blood pooling in the strangely glowing liquid, trying to rouse the body with spikes of emotions. The water almost seemed to be lapping it up eagerly. The dark blood mixing strangely with the bright bluish-green liquid. I didn't know how long I was mentally trapped clinging on—staring numbly down into the water at this point—but my attempts to do something were unsuccessful. They almost seemed too tired to do anything other than to simply latch on.

I was starting to feel distant and sluggish as I felt the body further shut down. I had a sudden impression that if I wanted to let go, I wouldn't need to deal with any of this. That I would disappear. That I could just be replaced with a thought.

It pissed me off.

That impression made me cling on even tighter to the shred of consciousness that I had. I wanted to know what was going on before I went and died. I needed to figure out what was going on. I wasn't dead yet. I would hold on for as long as I could. I was a tenacious bastard—especially with spite as a motivator.

I clung on, unable to even twitch a muscle. Eventually, the silence was replaced by frantic chatter. I still felt the pain, but it was like the body didn't give a damn anymore and accepted whatever fate came to it. I was itching to scream, to fight, anything to get me out of this situation. I couldn't accept this situation with no control or say about anything.

I needed to find out what was going on.

I needed to find out what I was missing.

All I could do was stare through locked eyes at the situation I found myself in, unable to blink.

Several steel beams were sticking out of the lake. The shore was lined with pale looking dirt and random chunks of warped metal. I couldn't piece together where I was from it. I had no memory of how I got here. My strangely detached mind laughed at myself for falling asleep in such a shitty place. I felt the body start trembling—slowly realizing that it was shaking in a very strange and unsettling way. It almost felt like I was vibrating. The liquid began churning.

The frantic talking from above me paused, then came to a fevered pitch. It was almost to the point where I could make out the words being said. I heard a loud splash near me, several painful drops splashed on me, and then suddenly someone grabbed onto the arm that I was staring at—yanking it out from the steel girder with ease.

I'm forced to look at the sight of mangled flesh and protruding bones. Mentally taking a deep breath and forcing myself to be calm. Freaking out would only make my situation worse. The heart of the body was beating erratically, but I stayed calm through some miracle.

I heard something garbled, and then I felt the myself being slowly pulled out from the liquid. Whoever saved me laughs, then shouts towards the others talking along the shore.

"See! Someone was still alive in all this mess. I'll be up in a sec—stay there and I'll sort this all out. I told you, SOLDIER's got this!."

I can barely make out what was said everything was so distorted. The words sounded strange as if I wasn't hearing them myself. He—because it was definitely he—started dragging me towards the shore. My neck tilts and angles just enough to get a good look at the one rescuing me.

Black spiky hair, blue jumpsuit, and an eager looking face. The person also sported a massive blade on his back. The sight sent a deep lance of pain into my head looking at them. The person seemed so familiar. As if I've seen them before. I could almost piece together something.

Something important.

The liquid promptly reached out—grabbing onto me almost eagerly—and does it's damn best to pull me under.

It sure surprised the hell out of my rescuer if the yelp was anything to go by. The person in this lake from hell with me gives a frantic tug. Failing to find purchase and pull me away from the approaching wave. They end up throwing themselves off balance and we both go tumbling.

As soon as my head submerged things turned into rapidly stranger sensations—along with the dimming of reality around me.

M͈̥̕͢͞ỵ̱ ̲͉̥̞̣̰ͅt̡̜͇͖̘̰̟̼͡u̡͕̻̣̣͝r̶̮̺̼͈̜n҉̶͢ͅ.̸͕̩̳̪̱̱͉͖͘͞

That impression that I could let go—that I would be replaced—vanished.

In its place all of the sensations that I was feeling became more intense—leaving me stunned at the sudden shift. A brain-splitting headache quickly formed. My body—which felt strange before—was now positively alien. I stared up towards the surface as my mind seemed to slowly dwindle down to a single point and slowly blinked.

My eyes felt like they were melting. Images played out at a blinding speed.

I gained flashes of insight in this semi-aware state.

Suddenly, I'm on the shore.I passed out and don't remember how I got here.

A group of people were frantically looking over my 'rescuer' who had a dazed look on his face. His hair was matted down and covered in the strange liquid. I instantly realized someone was doing compressions on my chest. My chest. I realized that we were now out of the painful liquid, but my body still stung. The point I could focus on was slowly expanding.

All of the soldiers were showing exhaustion on their faces and dripping wet—as if they just fought a battle. I was alive though, even if there were several rescuers on the ground not moving.

I was lifted and carried off after several of them recuperated.

A group of kids enters my vision looking worriedly off to the side as I was carried away. A girl with red hair and blue eyes was looking on with horror and confusion clear on her face. I still couldn't move, but I was carried through streets which were paved and had lamps. A far contrast to what was before. There were people thronged in the street, all making way for our group. All looking on shocked at the sorry sight of us. Kids mutely cheered at the sight of the soldiers—only to grow sober at the feeling the group emanated.

The kids were rushed indoors as we passed. What looked like vendors paused mid-shout to stare at us as the group rushed past.

No comprehensive sound reached my ears in this strange feeling world. Everything seemed colorless and fading. I was getting tired, but I fought to stay awake. The ghost visions started taking precedent again and overlaid themselves over everything I saw. I wanted to look up, but my neck was feeling strangely thick and heavy. I wanted to see the group that had saved me.

I couldn't.

I blearily realized we were being shuffled inside a gate, only for me to be jostled and given the opportunity to look at the base of a massive tower.

Things were getting darker. I could feel myself drifting off further as sleep was tugging at the edge of my mind. Something I instinctively understood couldn't be fought. I was too busy trying to piece together what my other senses were telling me. They were too strange and felt alien, nothing like what it felt before.

I was carried inside the front door of the tower to be met with doctors. They all looked so much bigger than me—and it felt wrong being this small. I wanted to know what was going on. I was handed off before I could dwell further on what was going on. It was getting harder to think.

Now we were somewhere resembling a food court. Bright neon signs hung over storefronts all along the wall that hurt my burning eyes. The lights roused me just enough to notice someone get into my face. I noticed a crowd staring behind him. They said some strange words that I couldn't understand. I could vaguely see the movement of lips and partially hear what was said.

I hung limply on someone's arm as we got onto an elevator. I was feeling weaker the longer I fought off sleep. It was to the point I was worried I was going to blackout. I was already having trouble paying attention. All it would take is one heavy-lidded blink to send me off.

I was feeling boneless. I held no reservations that if I wasn't being held up, I would collapse and sleep flat on the ground. We stepped out of an elevator—when had we gotten on that—and all activity on the floor stopped. People turned and looked on at the commotion. The person holding me shouted something, then gasped and let go of me—clutching their arms and starting to scream. Someone else quickly took his place. The moment passed and with a flurry of activity, I was ushered into a bed.

I was staring up at a tiled ceiling, unable to move, trapped in my body. I was distantly aware it wasn't mine, but it felt right. I was too tired to think on it. Sleep was what I was needed. Some purpose I felt was instilled inside of me—something that I didn't quite understand. I was quickly shaking it off, but it was still there in the back of my mind.

A needle was driven into my arm. The feeling promptly vanished.

I dove deeper into the alien sensations that made up my body—trying to piece them together. I couldn't get anything to respond correctly and the ghostly visions were coming full force now. The were prominent even through closed eyelids, confusing me further.

My body slowly began locking up. My mind was screaming at me that something was wrong. It was slowly quieting down as the chemicals coursed through me, until my thoughts were just a whisper at the back of my mind.

I was tired. I should be terrified. I should be trying to figure out what was going on and what was happening, where I was—but I was slowly drifting off.

I couldn't shake the feeling that I was missing something.