Chapter 4 – A Meaningless Schism

Lloyd slammed the door shut before Etrius tackled him to the ground, and for good measure, jammed his key card into the key pad so Boomer and Etrius would have to wait a good while until someone took it out. Lloyd strode to the elevator petulantly, without another thought he was going to go to: The General. He'd lecture him and then hide from Etrius for a while, easy. At the time the plan sounded bullet proof, but the close encounter in the dorm clouded his judgement. Normally, he would have spotted the flaws and thought of something else.

Lloyd ignored felt the whoosh of the elevator, which thankfully distracted him for a bit. He felt that brooding made things worse, his two favourite words were status quo. If nothing happened, nothing could go wrong. While his logic had always been flawed, it still worked for the majority of the time. Is now majority of the time? No, no it isn't, I need to beat The General verbally. He had to win that time, he was more determined than Rambo with adrenaline shots.

He exhaled slowly, he hated over thinking something, and in his books, more than two sentences was overthinking something. Lloyd cleared his mind, blocking out emotion, emotion was what led to thinking, stopping the source stops the flow. The lift sunk to a lower catwalk, allowing its doors to slither up. Naturally his feet dragged him to the Command Post; he was so used to being a blank slate, that his overuse of meditation felt normal.

Blank white walls matched his character, scientists and soldiers alike wandered the corridors. Not talking, never loitering, never socialising. There was nothing but the task, and the war situation worsening didn't help the scene in the Command Post. Soon, a wooden door stood out from the crowd, the odd one out.

Boldly, he rapped his knuckle on the door, he hadn't a clue what he was going to say or do, but that hadn't mattered to him. Once he got worked up into a rage, he could just speak from the heart. Oddly enough, no reply came from the other side of the door, so The General indirectly nearly got him killed and he was neglecting him? Rat bastard, no, don't think about it. Lloyd hammered the wood, becoming more irate with each knock.

He reared his fist back for an even harder thump, but Romanov bustled through followed by a moustached soldier who looked like he had just jumped over the moon, the tag on his breast pocket read, Sgt J. Mullins. Mullins hurriedly saluted, which took Lloyd aback, he hated people showing recognition to his rank, it reminded him of just how he'd gotten to his rank.
"Lloyd, a word," Lloyd hadn't noticed The General standing in front of his window, gazing flatly.

Lloyd marched inside with a dissipating sensation, he had been clearing his mind. "Close the door behind you son," The General was trying to be friendly and candid, but Lloyd wasn't going to fall for his subtle persuasion. Lloyd couldn't help but admire the way The General stood so proud, the way his presence was established in the room: he was in charge of it all.

Lloyd chose to ignore the chair in front of The General's desk; he just stood there watching The General's ambient posture. "Close shave?" The General sounded not mannerly or even remotely civil anymore, in fact he sounded displeased and upset, why the change?
"Why didn't you call it in earlier? I know very well that you bugged the facility," if Lloyd had almost been smeared The General had better have a gem of an excuse for it.

The General stepped away from the window and gently sat down on his chair, lighting a cigar. Lloyd gradually squinted at The General, it was at times like these that he wished The General's thoughts were to be publicly read, scrawled across the four walls of his office. How long had The General known about the parallel dimension? Longer than everyone else for sure, so why had he squandered it?

"I was discussing a tragedy … we lost the castle," The General patted the ashes of his cigar into an ash tray, "I was focusing very hard on securing the culprit's appropriate punishment."

There had been a tone of displeasure again, had he thought Lloyd would have solved the problem with Etrius independently? Or was there something else? Whatever it was, he wanted to find out. But he also wanted answers to the 'loss' of the castle. How could such a valuable asset be lost so rapidly? It also occurred to him that not that long ago Beecher had been sent there, and now it was gone. No way had that been a coincidence, The General must have ordered him to destroy it.

"Loss? What?! Why did you send Beecher to destroy it? Do you realise what you just done old man," Lloyd spat, The General sat up straighter and narrowed his eyes menacingly, Lloyd paced toward The General uncharacteristically menacingly, "Saving Earth?! Bullshit! Then why the fuck did you just completely obliterate a possible resource we could have used?!"

It was a gamble to assume that Beecher had destroyed it, but he was certain that The General was in the wrong here one way or another. Lloyd had paced further toward The General, which he had barely noticed due to his blinding fury. The old man's face engraved with as much ire as Lloyd's, which was disconcerting at first. The room might have risen ten degrees; the pair of them were glowering alarmingly at each other.

"Son, are you out of your mind, I could have you charged with insubordination. I didn't order it, why the hell would I do that?" The General truthfully explained the events, Lloyd's face became progressively lighter, but he hadn't forgotten about Etrius, not by a long shot.
"So you were busily chatting, not a worry in the world. While Etrius nearly found out what I did, what you did," Lloyd redeemed his former grittiness.

"This is outrageous!" The General bellowed, he pointed his finger intimidatingly, "Do not interfere with my plan Lloyd. I won't warn you again!"
Lloyd wasn't the slightest bit concerned with whatever The General warned, he wasn't going to take his deceit, and assumptions anymore.
"Go to hell," he put dramatically, waving his hand uncaringly at The General, before stomping toward the door.

"I mean it Lloyd," the sheer verbal force of The General stopped Lloyd dead in his tracks, "The second you walk out that door consider yourself under arrest. I can't afford to have you making up some horse shit to Etrius to convince him to kill me. You can't escape this dimension Lloyd; a single unarmoured man isn't strong enough to survive a trip through that portal."

Wait, What?! Was that true? The General sounded sure of himself; he continued his argument, "Where will you go? You have no one, nothing. You can't hide from the past Lloyd. You had to know this would happen one day." He glared at Lloyd with mingled triumph and hate; he knew Etrius wasn't a force to be reckoned with, The General wasn't sure he would be able to survive the full force of the elite team.

Lloyd himself shook with fury, how he dare slander him like that. But the worst part was that he was completely correct, he was close to his team, but he hadn't had a friend in decades. The General had certainly tapped into a nerve, so why should Lloyd let him off easily? He shrieked at the top of his lungs while he spear tackled The General into the wall, Lloyd propped the groaning old man against the wall.

Lloyd pulled back his fist, and king hit The General across the face, again and again. With each hit he got a bit stronger, and The General's sobs fainter. Lloyd let out all the ferocity that had been building inside of him through his fists, but a small voice in his head said 'stop.' Out of breath, his fists throbbing from the multiple punches and his mind a swirl of satisfaction, he got up. There, now there was no way he'd be arrested straight away, it would be hours before The General woke up, if he woke up.

"Enjoy your fag," Lloyd insultingly threw The General's still smoking cigar at his lifeless body.
Now what? Honestly he had no idea, but he did know that the noise would attract attention.

"Attention all personnel, elite team member, code name 'Lloyd' has assaulted a superior. Immediate capture is imperative, last known location is The General's office," the intercom's announcement made Lloyd's heart plummet nauseatingly, he cursed loudly and kicked the wall which didn't help, it just gave him an aching big toe on top of all the other problems that were going on.

However at Lloyd's kick, he was distracted by a raspy chuckle. The General was dribbling blood out of his mouth, nose and ears, but he was grinning and holding a microphone, which he had tugged out of his jacket pocket. Lloyd wanted to disembowel him, to rip out his spine and show it to his dying eyes. But there was no time, he was torn between fear and anger but fear took over him.

"Run Lloyd, see how far it gets you," The General wheezed happily as Lloyd sprinted out of the room.
He didn't get that far, he was barely out of the Command Post, heading toward the barracks for weapons, before he was ambushed by three armed MPs on a catwalk.
"Put your damn hands on your head and kneel on the floor!" the MP slid his rifle out of safety and aimed it right at Lloyd.

Lloyd slowly raised his hands on his head so that the MP lowered his guard for a fraction of a second, Lloyd swiftly kicked the rifle away from him so that it fired harmlessly into the distance, the MP aimed a punch at Lloyd, but he caught the fist in mid-air, brutally squashing it. While the victim squealed in pain, the other two reacted on instinct and foolishly opened fire; the bullets missed Lloyd and buried themselves into the MPs jugular.

Horrified with what they had done, the MPs dropped their rifles and kneeled next to their fallen comrade in a futile attempt to revive him. Lloyd saw a touch of familiarity of the scene, the victim's eyes staring lifelessly ahead. The triggermen, weeping at their mistake. Lloyd moved on, he'd regarded sympathy as weakness, but then? He had never felt the same amount of sensitivity before in decades.

The stupidest possible thing he could do was head to the armoury; hundreds of soldiers would be storming out to look for him. But he needed weapons if he was going to get to the portal, that would be the most heavily fortified. With only melee weapons on his mind, Lloyd hurried to the barracks, he only encountered stray soldiers, which he took by surprise. His favourite takedown had left his adversary dangling off the catwalk railings, by some rope.

The entrance to the shabby brick barracks lay just ahead, but it was something was off. Normally the sound of gunfire could be easily heard from this building, drill sergeants curses were always distinguishable but then there was nothing. No firing or hollering, Lloyd could tell this was a trap, a blind donkey could figure it out so he was insulted. So … if the door was an ambush, and the rest of the barracks was crawling with guards, he'd have to think outside of the box to penetrate it.

The best method for problem solving was to take a leaf out of something brilliant he or someone else had done. Just his opinion, but it had worked most of the time. The problem was he could only remember the details of the mission on Rebirth Island, and in China. He had only remembered those because they had been utter failures, nothing had gone right.

But then, what about Etrius? Yes, that had sounded quite promising. Etrius had climbed the dragon in order to kill it. Instead, Lloyd would climb the barracks, use a mental picture of the route to the armoury while on the roof, then he'd just, break apart the bricks and drop in. It was so simple.

But there was a hurdle to overcome; the bricks had been cemented so tightly, nearly no hand or foot holds were visible. Still Lloyd had always been a master at climbing. He started by balancing on the railing of the catwalk, his concentration had to be impeccable if he were to balance on a ten centimetre wide beam in advance to jumping into the Barrack's wall. Just don't look down, don't look down, he told himself.

The height of the catwalks had been a lot scarier when he had been inches from a certain death. Lloyd (quite hesitantly) outstretched both of his arms in front of him; if he was going to jump an early hold would be essential. Okay, three, two … one! He leapt into the wall, hooking his fingertips into the tiniest gaps. It took all of his muscular upper body strength to cling on to tiny cracks.

He knew he wouldn't be able to hold on forever, so Lloyd brought his right arm upwards a few inches and gripped the stone. Tiny crumbs of cement and brick crumbled as his grip tightened painfully, it took a lot of determination and focus to repeatedly climb up the barracks. Three feet, two and a half, two, just … a bit more. A lifetime away, he learnt, 'the last step is always the hardest.' With a throbbing migraine and blistered hands, those words sounded more truthful than anything else he'd heard of.

Finally, he lay on top of the station panting heavily with sweat pouring down his body. He rested there, wanting to sleep there forever, but persistence and willpower drove him to stand up. The hardest part had beenaccomplished, he went to the armoury just about every day, how could he forget? Lloyd recollected the countless walks he had undergone through the cold stone structure.

Two metres forward - nearly a forty-five degree turn left - proceed about ten metres onward - ninety degree turn right - stop. That should be it. Lloyd looked down at the bricks doubtfully, he couldn't shake off the feeling that he had messed something up; no way could he have remembered something that perfectly. But he didn't have much of a choice; he knelt down and smoothly rubbed his hand over a layer of bricks. The cinder had been melded together too toughly, there was no way he could break through, he'd need to find another batch.

Lloyd moved over to a new set, yet again he tested it. Yes, this one's good nice and weak, the builders must have gotten sloppy with the cementing here. He arched back his arm about to slam into it, wait; what if there are people underneath? It would surely take more than one hit to penetrate this even with it so fragile. I better not have them ready for me. He pressed his ear against the brick; an icy sensation prickled through his head and neck, the masonry was chilly and not comfortable to have half his face pressed against.

A faint but steady chatter could be heard if he strained himself hard enough, he'd need to find another set. He moved around several times, his non-verbal curses growing increasingly more heated. Each time he found it was too strong or too well protected. Eventually, Lloyd found a group of bricks that had very little chatter and was quite frail.

He reared back his palm; the surface just bounced his hand back with a 'smack!' He suppressed a yelp, palming a brick wall sounded trivial, but the bones in his wrist seemingly vibrated plaintively and his hand was already bruised. However, the bricks had been disturbed ceasing all chatter below, Lloyd wouldn't have much time. He tensed his leg, preparing to strike the bricks. Lloyd stomped on the bricks over and over, now the soldiers beneath had noticed and were calling in backup.

Getting panicky, Lloyd stamped his foot recurrently preferring to not break his wrist. Bricks were destabilising and starting to collapse, much to the dismay of the guards underneath.
"It's him! Open fire," one of the trainees cried below.
Well he couldn't hope that they would remain dismissive forever, but the bullets didn't help. Lloyd impulsively jerked backwards from the barrage of shots colliding with the fragile bricks, he scrambled backwards on all fours as bullets zoomed into the roof or through the hole he had created with his foot.

Lloyd continuously jumbled back, the shots were diminishing the roof. Bricks toppled, cracked cinder and smoke dominated the ceiling, and yet still the riflemen continued to fire, stupid trainees. They were meant to take him in alive, but they were using live ammunition. Wait, something had been very, very wrong. The entire barracks was poorly designed, if one section were to crumble, the rest of the building would lose support and fall …

"STOP FIRING, YOU'LL GET EVERYONE KILLED," but they didn't, bullets pelted the roof making everything shake. Lloyd got up hastily, the gap was growing larger, he was sure the entire building was going to fall apart. The trainees only noticed after the damage was spreading like wild fire, so they reacted on instinct and scarpered.

Lloyd would have a much better chance of fleeing, not only was he physically stronger, but he just had to run to an edge instead of navigating the barracks' collapsing corridors. Lloyd ran like hell from the vortex of bricks just behind him, it was a mad dash to the edge; his mind was only on that subject. He was faster than the wave of chaos, but as he slid to a halt just before the brink of the barracks, Lloyd saw that there was nothing but impending doom.

He could jump off and try to cling onto something, or he could battle the hazards of the remains of the barracks falling away, either way his chances were slim at best. His gaze shook from left to right looking for some loophole; the cataclysmic wave was drawing closer every instant; he couldn't wait around. Just as the final solid piece of roof buckled, Lloyd jumped, as hard and as fast as he could without running up.

It all happened in slow motion; he spread out his arms and legs to prolong his state of being airborne. The wind whistled in his ear, blocking out all other sound, Lloyd needed to land on a catwalk. If he could hook onto just one, he could get to the portal. Wildly spinning his head around, he caught sight of a promising catwalk nearly twenty metres away. His brain went out of slow motion as he rapidly leaned toward the walkway.

With his body rigid and straight, he flew like a missile. At the last possible moment, he spread out again, and grabbed the railing with his right then left hand, his body slammed into the catwalk but he held on. But the shoulder that had grabbed onto the rail first gave an almighty 'Clock!' followed with an almighty burning sensation coursing through his body, sourcing from his arm. If he were to say the time he was at the most despair, it was then, when his right shoulder got dislocated. It took all his willpower to clamp thrust his left hand onto the railing.

He dropped his right to dangle lifelessly by his side. Lloyd moaned in anguish, he was unable to describe in words how much the pain had drained away his energy, it felt like years since he had just sat down. He could feel his grip on the railing slipping; he grimaced as he looked below, unquestionably a lethal drop. Lloyd would only have one shot at his next plan, if he screwed it up there would be no silver medal for coming in second.

On the count of three again. One, two … Lloyd looked down then back up, his fingertips were slipping. Three! He used his single hand to hoist himself up, he thundered with screaming, the entire facility echoed his agony.

In all of his years of combat, being stabbed was more painful, but having done the former he desired another round with the mad terrorist with a fruit knife. His whole body bawled in dispute, but he kept pulling until he wrapped his chest around the railing where he leaned forward and collapsed onto the catwalk.

Lloyd panted madly, his vision was fading away, the pain was making him pass out. Lloyd's eyes fluttered, his both his arms were numb from pain. But then The General's face loomed at the forefront of his thoughts, a mere glance made him mechanically bolt upright. He had to continue, he wasn't going to let that bastard win. Standing up was tricky without his hands; he had to roll over to his knees, from there he could spring himself erect.

He could see the portal up ahead, and he was going to need to use his hands. He knew how to fix a dislocated shoulder, it would be painful but it had to be done. Lloyd patiently paused to get his left arm to get feeling back, he sat back down and propped up the knee parallel to his dislocated shoulder. Lloyd clenched his teeth tightly, as he wrapped his wrist around the knee.

Here came the hard parts, he leant back slightly and extended his neck upright. Essentially, he was stretching his shoulder using the knee as a fixed point, which caused intense muscular pain so he proceeded to the next step as quickly as possible. Lloyd braced himself again; he rotated his shoulders forward followed by a "Click!" Some of the pain ceased, but he still dug out a syrette from his jacket, since Rebirth he had always kept a needle full of morphine.

The flow of the drug flooding his system let him breathe a sigh of relief, most of the pain had gone and he could feel most of his arm again. The first aid procedure was to keep his arm as still as possible and in a sling, but he couldn't afford to take that risk. He'd have to continue to use it, but very minimally. Lloyd was a bit happier; he had survived the barracks even though he didn't get weapons, and now he could get to the portal and blow through the guards, but he had done harder things before.

Lloyd's spirits felt softer and made quick progress toward the portal. But the further he went along, the more he came to realise. He came across no one, nothing. His path to his objective was free, but bodies were splayed everywhere around the catwalks, bullets in their chests and heads, some were mutilated so badly that they were unrecognisable. Who had done that? Why would anyone kill their own people? Had some entity from the castle escaped, but then why had they been shot? Where was the rest of his team in all of this?

The self-interrogation sent doubts to reinforce in his chest, getting him more and more worried, and nothing was there to reassure him but the breeze ruffling his short hair. A gateway was in between the portal and Lloyd. Luckily, the gates had been wrenched open, with two dead soldiers lying beside it in what looked like a shallow attempt to guard it. Lloyd had only come to the portal once before, and that was his first forced trip to the different dimension.

A gigantic platform rested underneath the portal, but the platform's mass wasn't anywhere near as eye catching as the portal. It's sheer height of was staggering, it shimmered with an otherworldly atmosphere. But this time Lloyd was not engrossed by the portal's fascinating power and appearance. Instead he had his gaze on only one person, one silhouette, against the portals light, the shadow was staring straight at him, and it could be only one person, one person that gave Lloyd goose bumps.

Etrius glowered at Lloyd while ascending a pistol to his face. Lloyd's purpose faltered, the wrathful lines etched across Etrius face was enough to make him kneel down genuinely believing that this was the end.
"The General let me out of the dorm and told me what you did, Boomer doesn't know but he thinks I'm going to come back with you," Etrius let out a mad bark of laughter. He was smothered in blood, the blood of the men and women sent to protect the portal. Everything was starting to make sense.

"The General- Tricked- Not my- God damn it!" Lloyd had never grovelled in his life and didn't plan to. He kept his emotions locked up for a reason, but Etrius was going to kill him for something that he had no choice over, he would never be able to explain this to Etrius in time, this was one of the rare times where he'd have to show his true emotions.

The General had, had him trapped right from when they met. Lloyd knew he had to embrace his fate. It was clear that The General had fed Etrius some claptrap directed at Lloyd to kill him. Etrius wouldn't be prejudiced against The General as much anymore and Lloyd would be dead. Kill two birds with one stone.
Etrius cocked back the hammer of the magnum, "I've known you for years Lloyd. Why."

Wait, Lloyd wasn't going to die by being The General's scape goat, he was going to force the truth on Etrius ... one way or another. He speedily sprinted toward Etrius, instinctively moving left and right before Etrius could fire, dodging bullets after they have been fired at point blank range was impossible even for a reflex professional like Lloyd. He spear tackled Etrius with one arm, before smashing Etrius' gun hand against the platform repeatedly until he let go.

Etrius was twisted with madness; he king hit Lloyd against the nose. Lloyd rolled off Etrius, clutching bleeding nostrils, which was a mistake because his right shoulder was still healing and moving it resulted in monumental distress. Etrius picked up the gun and pointed it at his opponent again. For a second time, Lloyd got the weapon off of his adversary. He kicked the gun out of Etrius' hands, acting on instinct; Etrius dashed toward the fallen firearm, but didn't come within a metre before being kneed in the back, knocking him to his knees.

Leap frogging over Etrius, Lloyd picked up the pistol and shot two holes in the platform. The rounds were just big enough for the diameter of a teacup to fit through. Lloyd's rival had regained his composure and was starting to throw punches at Lloyd. He held the pistol firmly, but he didn't want to kill Etrius, he tossed it over the platform, but by doing so he was punched by Etrius. Lloyd tottered a bit, but focused at getting back at Etrius.

It was now just a tedious game of 'who slipped up first.' Both of them traded blows with their limbs, but none substantial for a tide turning injury. Etrius wasn't having a harder time as Lloyd due to his arm impairment. But Lloyd was a prodigy with melee combat, so they were evenly matched. Lloyd was trying to direct Etrius just behind the two bullet holes he had created, but doing that without having his foe notice was quite challenging. But when nearly half an hour had passed, both were tired and sore, but Etrius was right where Lloyd wanted him.

Lloyd had to have paced his plan perfectly; just as Etrius punched straight at his foe, the blade expert jumped straight up, leaving Etrius fist just below his feet. As Lloyd landed, his foot pressed Etrius' hand right into the bullet hole, jamming it in. Etrius squirmed around, but his attempts to rip his arm out failed, his wrist was just too big. The infiltration expert had gotten a bit panicky; he had been stuck in the mud and could only swing around one arm.

Lloyd strafed left and right accordingly to dodge the attacks, he moved forward after each punch. Once he came face to face, he caught Etrius' final and toughest punch. Next, he ferociously crushed the knuckle while simultaneously bringing it down. Etrius groaned in pain, he was baffled as to how his team mate had been so strong, and he had never noticed his full potential.

The blade adept forced the Etrius' hand into the other bullet hole, rendering Etrius harmless, Etrius jerked and struggled, but ultimately he realised that he had been beaten. Etrius felt miserable, he had never lost a fair fight in his life, and this had been as fair as it got when Lloyd had no use of his arm, which he had noticed easily. Finally, Lloyd doubled over and huffed from a safe distance, the fight had really gotten the better of him.
"Get me out!" Etrius pleaded shamefully.

"No, you need to understand the true story, The General has obviously fed you some bull crap, and you've swallowed it."
Lloyd was showing him a side he'd never seen before, he actually showed human elements, and he wasn't sure which he preferred. But he was going to squarely tell Lloyd that he was wrong, and for once The General was right, and Lloyd would pay. Maybe not today, but he would have his vengeance.

"I haven't swallowed anything!" Etrius suddenly turned vicious again, "You killed him! And kept it from me all this time!"
"No I didn't!" Lloyd lied, that had been it. The full story was about to be revealed.

Etrius snorted and leered disbelievingly, Lloyd sighed and sat down a distance away from him, he was going to tell Etrius everything, "Before I met you I was, dead. Never truly living, I wasted my life away by killing, not even knowing why I killed them. I was an amateur hit man, but with a very good status."
Etrius shifted his gaze back to Lloyd, genuinely intrigued, Lloyd's file had been classified and pasted with black ink, so this was his first insight to Lloyd's past.

Small drops of water began to patter on both of them but the pair ignored it, too engaged for anything else. Lloyd became eerily misty eyed, his past had haunted him his entire life, and for the first time in decades, someone else would get an understanding too. Quite to the opposite of Lloyd, Etrius gave a rapt, unblinking appearance. Tingles quivered across Lloyd's nerves, he had to do this, his future – Etrius' future depended on it … for better or for worse.

References:
-For the procedure of how to treat a dislocated shoulder - article/63918-fix-dislocated-shoulder-yourself/
- For the explanation of the medical traits of morphine – wiki/Morphine