Trinity was crouched under a desk in the darkness. Guards were yelling and shouting. Gunfire could be heard coming from… somewhere. A loose wire in the room caused occasional flickers of light. Providing what little illumination the room had. The sound of a fizzle from the wires could be heard, a grating noise making it hard to plan. There was the sound of banging and thundering footsteps everywhere. She stayed crouched and hidden. Where was Syrus? Was he ok? Was he alive? Questions and thoughts ran though her head as she tried to collect herself trying to figure out a plan. Rattle! A flurry of bullets hit the table and Trinity put her hand over her mouth. Don't scream Trinity. It was a panic fire. They don't know where you are. Low accuracy high fire rate. The man just panicked. Oh god Syrus where are you? She kept in a mental dialogue with herself. Formulating a plan.
Plan: confuse, stun then neutralise. Chance of survival: High. Likely casualties: a graze or two
She sprang to her feet. Bang! The desk flipped. She kicked it across the room, two armed guards facing in the other direction turned to face her in shock and surprise. A quick dive and a roll. Time to execute 1.5 seconds. Time to recover: 0.1 seconds. Time to plan: already done. A quick kick to the leg causes the first guard to reel. Quick blink behind the second guard, jump up and grab his throat. Pull hard. He flips over Trinity, falling to the ground. Second guard has recovered sprint up and… kick her leg was caught. Recalculate… pull your leg down, blink, pull and. Bang! Threats eliminated.
A flawless fight to her. Not even a scratch. It pays to plan. A quick nod and the crying mask retuned over her face.
Syrus Thist. In trouble as usual. So much trouble in fact there was no means of escape. This was not the steel room trouble. This was the steel room full of sharks… with chainsaws… made of more sharks. He was on his knees his hands cuffed behind his back. Five men with their guns pointed to him. His Glucose pump in the pocket of one of the guards.
Plan: hah that's funny. Chance of survival: I'll die with no regrets. Likely casualties: every single living part of me. Need for a shirt: never existed
He let out a roar springing to his feet and into the air kicking off in just the perfect way throwing him sideways and his foot towards the head of a nearby guard. A kick and guard was on the floor. Good I can die happy now. Syrus thought before pushing off on his hands and hopping to his feet. The men kept their guns pointed towards Syrus. He had already gathered that people fear you more when you act like Greyson when he is angry. So might as well do that.
He began to growl baring his teeth. The men tightened their grips around their guns. He pulled on his chains. Locked down tight. Pump gone. Conserve energy. You have one try Syrus. That was all the planning he ever believed he needed. He broke into a sprint for the man directly in front of him. Everyone opened fire but it was too late. He had blinked directly forwards. But not far raising his hands behind him as he blinked be managed to catch the man between him and his cuffs. The resulting outcome. The man was caught in Syrus' grasp. Syrus span around and twisted.
His once Adversary was now an accomplice. Or a meat shield, however you want to look at it. The chain twisted around the mains neck Syrus growled at the two remaining "shoot! I dare you" his mask dropped over his face to reveal a devilish grin as he looked at the men one pulled the trigger nailing his mask right between the mask right between the eyes.
Syrus' head jerked back from the impact. Looks like his cockiness could only get him so far. This was the end. He didn't have many regrets. Many bad ones. He lived a good life, for what it was worth. If he could only do one more thing in this world it would be eat candy again. That sweet nectar sweeter than anything he had ever tasted. He missed the taste right now, and every waking moment of his life. Trinity would have given the world to be with him. He and his shield began to fall back slowly. God what would Trinity think? Oh now this was not right. She would be torn apart. Oh no he couldn't do that to her. Why did he have to be so cocky! Please Trinity please move on. In his last thought he pleaded, pleaded to whatever god was listening that his death would not have an effect on her. This was wrong he was not deserving of the love she gave him. The worry when he was hurt or upset. And he was about to torture his sister in the worst way possible. By dying. This was bad. He was not as content anymore. He wanted to talk to her help her give her closure. But no she was god knows where ad he was over here. If there was a fate worse than death he found it. He would fail his sister. He had only ever made one true promise "Trinity I will never let them hurt you" and now he won't be able to make sure of that.
Oh and Theta! How would she fair? She could probably move on having lost a friend. It would make it difficult to bring meals to the cell. Hopefully he would be missed. Maybe they'd throw him a funeral? Fat chance. Goodbye world…
Thud!They hit the floor and then silence. The end of Syrus Thist. Quick to violence, no social skills and a weak grasp on how the world worked. So young. The men walked over to the corpse and the man in his lifeless arms. The man was shaken the bullet was less than an inch from his head before it had barrelled into Syrus' forehead. The man pulled his colleague to his feet and he spoke onto a radio on his shirt. "One infiltrators remains, the first is terminated. Converting to oof!" the man fell to the floor and pushed himself up.
"Liar" spoke an off white mask. A sickly grin stretched across its face. Something was wrong with it. Maybe the fact that it looked almost human, maybe the large eyes, the width of the mouth, the flared crater in its forehead or maybe the general colour of the mask. The masked figure took a short bow. "Somewhere between nano mesh and porcelain… bulletproof" the figure was gone. Now one of the men was not holding his gun. And now the figure was back but the gun was not. "Infiltrator, fighter, back from the dead."
"Syrus Thist at your service. I died with no regrets… you sure as shit wont" and with his introduction he swiftly dashed towards one of the men a fist flying he launched it into the jaw of the first man he saw. Is knuckles moved and shifted as the shape of the man's jaw changed with the punch. Crack! Broken. His knee flew into the man who had shot him sending the man reeling and with an elbow to the spine the man hit the floor. Trying to push himself to his feet a foot to the head stopped that. And last was the man who had failed him. His trusty shield who didn't block anything. The culprit for Syrus' worry as he 'died'.
The man was already shaken from his near death experience with the bullet narrowly avoiding his head. He did not want to die that was for sure. But he couldn't move. Petrified at the smiling monstrosity that had incapacitated his friends with little effort. Syrus was slightly miffed that his friend had not done his job. He grabbed the man by the scruff of his collar and pinned him to a wall. The grin, already so wide it could be used to measure buildings, only widened further. It looked worrying. If there was an uncanny valley, this mask lay in the uncanny ravine. "No! No please!" the man sobbed "I beg you don't kill me!" Syrus was confused behind his mask. He hadn't killed anyone had he? No either broken or unconscious. Murder was far too drastic, even he knew that.
Syrus seeing the opportunity pulled a combat knife from the man's pocket and placed it to his cheek. "No! Please w-w-what do you want I'll do anything!" the man screamed a look of pure terror in his eyes. Syrus keeping his intimidation act up began to laugh. Hysterically. Harder and harder. The funniest joke on earth must have been told to him. But the laughter served its purpose. The man was shaken. The epitome of terror was in the room, at least according to the man. A fist hit the man in the face knocking him out. But it didn't belong to Syrus.
"Ever heard of too far!" a voice yelled from the shadows "That was out of line!" it continued. Out from the shadows came a top hat. Then a polished shoe then a well-kept trouser leg, another and a smart blazer and then a face. An unhappy face. "I came to talk. I came to talk! And what do I find? You stealing my line and acting like a psychopath!" The figure seemed angrier about the usage of 'his line' more than the questionable behaviour from Syrus. The figure was brandishing a cane which he threw against the ground causing it to bounce upwards to he could catch it higher up. He swiftly threw the cane into Syrus' stomach causing the boy to keel over as it hit him. "Harry shirk at your line stealing service!" he said with a frown upon his face.
Syrus sprinted at the magic man throwing a punch. And missing. Harry had moved out of the way pulling the boy's hood down in the proses "how did you get in here!" he grunted furious that the well-dressed young man was back. Harry retaliated with a swift dig to the jaw "the door idiot!" he spat equally angry. Syrus grabbed the hand and pulled it sending his fist bowling for the stomach of harry. It landed and harry also keeled. "Leave now you, you terrorist! You prick!" he screamed before being silenced by a blow to the temple from the pad of Harry's palm. "I…came…to…talk!" he scoffed through gritted teeth. Harry stood up and walked into the corner of a room "Screw you! If you grow a few brain cells follow the doves!" and as he reached the corner he pulled a cloak over himself. Confetti spilled in every direction and he disappeared.
Trinity walked into the room soon after looking saddened to the point of tears and terrified. She saw her brother his fists clenched and panting "oh my god! Syrus you are alive!"
"He got in"
"Who?"
"Shirk, the boy who a fought in the tower"
"How?"
"I have no idea" Trinity looked at her brother. He was in no state to carry on. Bruised and broken. Likely a break or a fracture. He was too reckless. He never cared about his own safety.
"Close the simulation"
"No Trinity I can carry on!"
"Syrus shut up. Look at yourself." The walls of the room fell away. The veil of darkness was lifted and they were in a large light room. The ceiling was high and the walls where far appear. This was some variety of grand hall staff of all variety littered the edges of the room and florescent lights where place equidistant above the floor. Mechanised installations deconstructed the room around them and they stood there all manner of staff there and ready to tend to the two. As soon as the twins where accessible a pair of medics ran to Syrus. Grasping him and trying to tend to his wounds, trying to grasp at the restless boy's body. He pulled, he writhed and he yelled. "Get off!" he screamed to the two trying to heal his wounds. The two dressed all in white let go and shrank like a pair of mice in the face of tiger. Almost shaking they looked at him wanting to carry on their job.
Syrus stamped towards Trinity a scowl upon his face and his finger pointed towards her. Making chase behind him was a pair of medics. Their job was not easy. To help make someone who feels fine feel better was utter hell. Like attempting to pull a thorn out of a wild wolf that could still bite. The uncompromising young man would not listen to reason, would not take caution into consideration and picked all of the wrong fights. But he had good reason. He was lucky. Luck was all it was. Never lost anything significant that he could recollect, lucky, never hurt significantly badly until now, lucky, never ever lost. Not once. He was the working man's spoilt rich child. "I had that! I got them all and not one casualty. I tried! You can't do this every time I get a little roughed up!" Trinity was sat on a bench. Her arm held out as a medic sprayed some kind of greenish brown spray across a graze on her arm. He inspected every action. The finger that depressed the spray nozzle. The cone of spray that came out. The film that coated her arm. The thumb and forefinger that peeled it off. She was not listening.
Syrus would never lay a finger on her. Not once. She was his only companion in this terrible world. But suddenly he balled his fist "Trinity listen to me!" she continued to blank him. He was not in good shape. Wounded and broken. He was not in the right. One of the medics reached up to Syrus. A young man .short blonde hair, a pair of light green eyes. He was trying to help the boy. He saw the trouble in Syrus' voice. The anger displayed across his body. The blood trawling down his limbs. He reached up putting his hand on Syrus' shoulder.
This was a mistake. The boy was new unlike his partner a young woman too late to warn him of the trouble. The danger that came with working on project bloodline masquerade. Syrus Thist. The number one danger. As he slowly but surely moved his arm upwards to put his hand on Syrus' shoulder her eyelids parted from each other at a fast rate causing her eyes to appear larger. She threw her hand out and ducked it back in the fear of agitating Syrus. She pulling her hands back she then began to mover them in a symmetrical fashion so that her forefingers touched the bridge of her nose creating some kind of mask like pattern with her hand obscuring her nose and mouth. She could hardly watch what was to come next. Her head continually shaking left and right faster and faster. And then he did it his hand was on Syrus' shoulder.
Nothing happened. The room was silent "hey there buddy. Why don't you sit down and we can get you patched up then you can try ag-" the medic could not finish his sentence. He was interrupted by an object that had hit him the jaw. A tan, rectangular, hard object with four ridges in it traveling at high speed for the boy's jaw. Attached to the object was the rest of Syrus' arm "Don't touch me!" he screamed. His screams echoed across the halls and everything when silent. No more chatter between workers exchanging information. Trainers discussing routines. All was quiet. There was the sound of shuffling and clicking as guards all over the room readied their weapons aimed at Syrus. The other medic that was still conscious backed away from him.
"Do it! Come on! Shoot me! Kill me! Oh wait you can't! I am too much of an investment! My life keeps all of you payed!" he screamed to the hall. The entirety of the staff knew this to be true. If it wasn't Syrus would be dead years ago. The guards however did not back down. Syrus waked up to one of the guards until he was a metre away growling. The man kept his rifle pointed at him "stand down soldier" he said in a low angry voice. The man kept his weapon raised "stand down soldier" his vice was raised in volume slight. A few decibels more than the last. No reaction. At a first glance. On closer inspection it was apparent that the man's aim was slightly shaky. "Stand down soldier" he lent in closer fury upon his face. The medic still visible behind him. The medic's face was red from the impact. A small bead of blood trawled down from his mouth to his chin. The guard kept his gun held up his hands shaking faster. Whatever was behind the back one way visor on his head was unknown. Anger? Tears? Or vacant thoughts? Nobody could tell.
"Syrus stop it!" Trinity yelled across the vast expansive room. Syrus' head jerked around. He was not happy with the situation. And his face showed that. His teeth where shown like a dog readying for conflict.
"I'm sorry did they reject your request to put your horse on the space shuttle? Looks like it can't get any higher after all!" he yelled
Trinity was growing angry herself. The boy was hurt and he was throwing a hissy because he was getting the attention he needed. She did this all for him. She gave him the rest he needed. She got him out of difficult situations. She was so mad she couldn't find the words. She clenched her fists and stormed up to her. The two frowned at each other in absolute rage. Syrus looking down at her and Trinity looking back up. "She told me what you did." Syrus said. His tone shifting to that of a more disappointed tone.
Trinity had to take a second to ponder the thought. Who was "she" she had some thoughts. A few fleeting ideas. But nothing concrete. "W-what" she muttered looking back up at Syrus. There was a look of worry on her face. Her lip quivered. And then Syrus opened his mouth. "I don't know how or what the hell you did to her! I don't get how this works! She was in tears! Trinity she was in tears! Her friends laugh at her, she is scared to be seen around me, she was on only friend around here! Why!"
There was something wrong. In the pit of her stomach she felt something. Like a horrible disease. Like she had swallowed some kind of poison. Unlike an ache there was no pain only an unease. She was feeling guilt, ceaseless guilt. She had made a mistake. What she had done was not right. And she felt the full force of her actions. It was because of her that he was acting so erratic. She tried to form a sentence in her head. She wanted to say sorry she wanted to fix everything she wished she could turn back the clock.
She opened her mouth. She had nothing to say. But she was going to try if it killed her. She wanted her bother back. They were meant to be a team and she wanted to keep it that way. Nothing she couldn't think of anything. Her diaphragm expanded causing oxygen to rush into her lungs as she prepared to say anything. She needed to right her wrongs.
The entire room was silent. There was a footstep. No one payed attention to it. Another footstep, the faint nose of ceramic scraping against wood. Another footstep, the sound of the gears turning in Trinity's head "I" Crash! The sound of a cry, a cry of pain, anguish, agony. Something had gone awry. The pained cry had come from Syrus. On one knee in pain. There was some form of shining white arrowhead lodged in his Achilles tendon surrounding his foot where a series of other white projectiles of the same moniker. Strewn among them a handle. Ceramic.
All attention was drawn towards a figure stood next to a coffee table. On the coffee table where an assortment of mugs and a coffee stain signifying the lack of a single mug on the table. The figure stood tall. In a white suit and a pair of dress shoes. Bolted into his forehead was a military rank made of metal. Dark brown eyes sat beneath the rank the brows above angled downwards towards the bridge of the nose. The nose had no markings except for a small bandage the size of an eighth of a small piece of selotape. Moving down was a cleanly shaven upper lip. The other stayed closely stuck to its companion. "Lay a finger on her and it will be the end of you" boomed a deep low pitched voice. General Masque.
Syrus charged at the new aggressor, having pulled the ceramic chip out of his foot. He was losing blood. His footprints would trick any tracker making them think a wounded amputee had hopped across the room. Masque walked towards Syrus, slowly. A blank expression across his face. Syrus reeled back for a punch. He swung his weight with the fist only to find a well-timed blow to his writs caused him to topple. "Learn your place boy!" Syrus pulled himself up and took another swing only to meet a perfect counter. The iris on Masque's left eye turned a bight shade of blood red. One by one each attempt at an attack was thwarted by another one of Masque's flawless counters. Syrus was already injured his aura was low. He could not fight in a state like this. But still he tried. He pulled himself up to face Masque only to feel the handle of Masque's pistol hit him square in the cheekbone. Masque raised his hand again holding his pistol by the barrel "no!" screamed a young female voice. A shape dived in front of him just before hitting Syrus. Causing him to instead hit the shape. It fell to the ground a metre to the left. Trinity's body was slumped on the floor.
The colour drained from Masque's eye and from his face. He had just struck who to him was his daughter. He felt remorse he felt wrong. His heart sank and he walked over to her. Was she okay? He reached out one arm to check. Trinity instantly sprang up grasping the pistol out of Masque's hand and pointing it at him "Medic!" she yelled out to the room of spectators "Medic!" she kept both hands on the gun pointing it at Masque. A gang of medics sprinted to Syrus tending his wounds.
Masque ducked down dived to one side and lunged for the gun grasping it from Trinity's hands leaving her defenceless. "Brawn doesn't always win. Especially when you can react quickly enough" Trinity smiled back. She enjoyed the challenge. Not the bruise on her cheek though. She opened her hand and to the dismay of Masque out dropped all of the bullets that once populated the pistol in Masque's hand. "Well played." He turned to the others "Training is over everyone back to your stations"
Training was over the conflict was resolved. And Theta was walking down a hallway oblivious to what had happened. She was alone wandering the facility for some form of adventure. Trinity blinked into the room behind her and began to run after her. It wasn't a sprint and was just slightly faster that a jog "hey I want to talk" theta kept her head down and picked up the pace waking faster. She ignored Trinity as best she could. "Wait up" Trinity called out. Theta gave no response hoping that Trinity would leave if she ignored her. "I want to say sorry" she spoke out. Theta stopped in her tracks. This was worth listening to. The girl pivoted on a dime to listen to what Trinity had to say. Not knowing how to ask for said apology she sat there in silence waiting for her to talk. Trinity took a deep breath and opened up her mouth. She had ben practicing this for a while before. Though seeing Theta in person she only felt worse.
Theta was not an inherently confident girl. Shy, easily embarrassed and if given the choice between conversation and staying quiet she would always choose the latter. Her body language exuded that. She always looked down instead of at her addressor, she stayed small and to herself. Trinity, trained in tactics and negotiations, was taught to read body language and could read this like a book. It instantly made her feel bad for embarrassing her in front of her friends.
"I came to say I'm sorry" she started "what I did was wrong and I shouldn't have done it. I-I was jealous. I have never been out there aside from missions and I felt jealous. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me"