They will remember this day
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing
Title: The Mind's Truth
Author: neekabe
Warnings: PG-13 for strangeness... slight language.
Chapter 4
"They will remember this day...."
Subject: 04
Status: In progress. This one is following nicely. He is complacent and very malleable. We will now see how far we can go with him.
***
Anger boiled within the young soul. Anger at the world for being so cruel and hard. Anger at these people for putting him through this. But most of all anger at himself for not being able to do anything about it all. He was helpless to act, he could only watch as thousands died because of him.
Nightmares of his father's death haunted him. Every mistake he had made cost these people their lives.
So far he had seen the scorn of his father for his refusal to accept pacifist ideals. His sisters scorned his lack of ability to change things. Of all the pilots it seemed that he was the weakest.
He didn't deserve the honor of being considered on of the Gundam Pilots. He could do nothing right but kill those undeserving of death.
He was weak, incompetent, unimportant. He was just remembered as the one that killed a colony. Then he killed his comrade, his mind filled in the facts they could not know.
Why did they even bother?
The world spun about him and then he was sitting in the Wing ZERO. The system taking his grief and his need for revenge and turning it into a driving need to kill. To destroy the enemy and the enemy was anyone that fought. If it weren't for those people he wouldn't have had to fight. His father wouldn't have to die.
Once again his hand tightened on the controls and the Wing ZERO lifted its beam cannon. Fired on the colony, completely obliterating it. Once again people died, thousands gone in an instant. All that potential gone. Who knows? One of them might have been great.
But this time was subtly different. This time he felt no regret. He did not weep for the dead. After all, they weren't real. They never were real it was just something designed to break him. They had come close he realized now, so close. But they wouldn't ever get that close again. He now knew their secret. None of these horrors were real. No one really died. They would only break him of he let them manipulate him. He would not believe now. Not believe anything as real. These people that he was killing now weren't real. It didn't matter what he did. None of it was real.
He started to laugh. There sitting watching the remains of the once lush colony. He laughed because he had them figured out. They would not get him ever again.
The next set of simulations he performed perfectly, without hesitation. Even to the point of killing one of his former comrades. After all, he rationalized, it didn't matter. It's not as if he were killing the real one.
"Look sir" the man gestured to the screen. Quatre spun and fired of a shot, hitting Trowa square on. As Trowa dropped Quatre moved in firing the second shot point blank into the downed man. His face was blank, but his eyes were too bright.
"He's ready. Take him out tonight. You know what has to be done." Erlking smiled. Finally one of them had worked. He knew he would only have to wait. The last ones' had been disappointing to say the least. He still hadn't figured out how 01 had managed to work in reality while he was in VR. Or how 05 managed to kill himself, or how 02 had managed to change the simulations for that matter. But now this one… This was all he expected.
They left him there for the rest of the day. Running random simulations, nothing special. Nothing to drastic. Keeping careful watch. They didn't want to lose him like they did 02. Before they took him out the injected him with a temporary drug. Just to keep him unconscious long enough to get him out of the suit.
Quatre awoke, strapped to a cold metal table. He blinked looking up at the men standing over him. They must be the ones that had hurt him. He didn't want to know what they would do to him now. He strained against the straps holding him down. Sweat matted blond hair to his forehead. Pain didn't matter anyways. It's not as if it was real
One of the people approached the table, laying a cool hand on Quatres forehead. "shh.. calm boy. You'll only hurt yourself"
Quatre ignored the kind words. They meant nothing.
"You're out of it boy" the man stated, gesturing to he discarded suit in the corner of the room. "you'll be back in real battle soon. Now hurry they'll notice us soon." Quatre glanced around the room, taking everything in, noting the ruined security cameras.
This was the cruelest joke of them all. They were trying to convince him he was free. Make him hope, dream again. Then they would take that from him. But he wouldn't fall for it. His eyes glinted in the shadows as he watched them undo the buckles freeing him.
He sat up, swung his legs over the side of the table. "So… I'm free now?"
The first man nodded, slightly distracted with the locks on the door.
"You lie" Quatre leapt towards to them, wild and feral, his lips pulled back. "You all lie to me and expect me to believe."
A quick jerk and the first mans neck was broken. Quatre picked up a scalpel that was lying beside the table he had occupied. He faced the second man. He laughed. Letting the joy of life bubble out. He was alive and could now do something. And he felt no guilt. Nothing at all.
A few slashes and the man was dead, his blood soaking Quatre's hands. But it didn't matter. It wasn't real. A few moments later and he was out in the halls. Stalking his prey.
They all lied to him. They would all die.
He laughed as he slashed and stabbed. Their blood covering him. They all lied to him, were all in on it. They all said it was real.
These people they would remember this day… the day they tried to break him and failed.
Eventually the soldiers cornered him. A troop of eight, guns at ready. He smiled at them, asked them the question that he had asked everyone. He didn't want to kill innocents, those that would tell him the truth. They didn't deserve to die. These few there lied, lied right there to his face. He advanced. They had guns. He needed a gun to fight them to punish them. That was okay then.
A twist and a turn, he got his hands on one of the weapons and pulled it from the surprised grasp of the soldier. They didn't expect him to charge them. Silly people. They still didn't realize that had figured them out. That he knew that this form wasn't real. It didn't matter if he got hurt here as long as he believed he could keep moving he would. Wounds cannot hamper something that doesn't exist.
He had archived his goal though. He now had a gun. A gun and a scalpel. He was one better than them. Them that only had guns. He had a gun and a scalpel, two weapons were better than one… two was always better that one. He would win this. They only had one and there clenched in his bloody fist was a gun and a gleaming knife. They couldn't beat him
Never.
Guns fired. Bullets hit his body. He didn't bother to doge, to minimize the damage. His bullets hit them too. They fell he didn't. That's cause they're not real. I am. I continue.
Continue he thought as his body collapsed.
Continue. His world went black. Ahh they were changing it again. He was too strong for this one. They were changing it… again…
One of the soldiers nudged the body with the toe of his boot. "For a kid with a scalpel he sure did a lot of damage"
His comrade looked back down the halls, unable to see anything but the bodies and blood.
"That was no kid."
***end***
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing
Title: The Mind's Truth
Author: neekabe
Warnings: PG-13 for strangeness... slight language.
Chapter 4
"They will remember this day...."
Subject: 04
Status: In progress. This one is following nicely. He is complacent and very malleable. We will now see how far we can go with him.
***
Anger boiled within the young soul. Anger at the world for being so cruel and hard. Anger at these people for putting him through this. But most of all anger at himself for not being able to do anything about it all. He was helpless to act, he could only watch as thousands died because of him.
Nightmares of his father's death haunted him. Every mistake he had made cost these people their lives.
So far he had seen the scorn of his father for his refusal to accept pacifist ideals. His sisters scorned his lack of ability to change things. Of all the pilots it seemed that he was the weakest.
He didn't deserve the honor of being considered on of the Gundam Pilots. He could do nothing right but kill those undeserving of death.
He was weak, incompetent, unimportant. He was just remembered as the one that killed a colony. Then he killed his comrade, his mind filled in the facts they could not know.
Why did they even bother?
The world spun about him and then he was sitting in the Wing ZERO. The system taking his grief and his need for revenge and turning it into a driving need to kill. To destroy the enemy and the enemy was anyone that fought. If it weren't for those people he wouldn't have had to fight. His father wouldn't have to die.
Once again his hand tightened on the controls and the Wing ZERO lifted its beam cannon. Fired on the colony, completely obliterating it. Once again people died, thousands gone in an instant. All that potential gone. Who knows? One of them might have been great.
But this time was subtly different. This time he felt no regret. He did not weep for the dead. After all, they weren't real. They never were real it was just something designed to break him. They had come close he realized now, so close. But they wouldn't ever get that close again. He now knew their secret. None of these horrors were real. No one really died. They would only break him of he let them manipulate him. He would not believe now. Not believe anything as real. These people that he was killing now weren't real. It didn't matter what he did. None of it was real.
He started to laugh. There sitting watching the remains of the once lush colony. He laughed because he had them figured out. They would not get him ever again.
The next set of simulations he performed perfectly, without hesitation. Even to the point of killing one of his former comrades. After all, he rationalized, it didn't matter. It's not as if he were killing the real one.
"Look sir" the man gestured to the screen. Quatre spun and fired of a shot, hitting Trowa square on. As Trowa dropped Quatre moved in firing the second shot point blank into the downed man. His face was blank, but his eyes were too bright.
"He's ready. Take him out tonight. You know what has to be done." Erlking smiled. Finally one of them had worked. He knew he would only have to wait. The last ones' had been disappointing to say the least. He still hadn't figured out how 01 had managed to work in reality while he was in VR. Or how 05 managed to kill himself, or how 02 had managed to change the simulations for that matter. But now this one… This was all he expected.
They left him there for the rest of the day. Running random simulations, nothing special. Nothing to drastic. Keeping careful watch. They didn't want to lose him like they did 02. Before they took him out the injected him with a temporary drug. Just to keep him unconscious long enough to get him out of the suit.
Quatre awoke, strapped to a cold metal table. He blinked looking up at the men standing over him. They must be the ones that had hurt him. He didn't want to know what they would do to him now. He strained against the straps holding him down. Sweat matted blond hair to his forehead. Pain didn't matter anyways. It's not as if it was real
One of the people approached the table, laying a cool hand on Quatres forehead. "shh.. calm boy. You'll only hurt yourself"
Quatre ignored the kind words. They meant nothing.
"You're out of it boy" the man stated, gesturing to he discarded suit in the corner of the room. "you'll be back in real battle soon. Now hurry they'll notice us soon." Quatre glanced around the room, taking everything in, noting the ruined security cameras.
This was the cruelest joke of them all. They were trying to convince him he was free. Make him hope, dream again. Then they would take that from him. But he wouldn't fall for it. His eyes glinted in the shadows as he watched them undo the buckles freeing him.
He sat up, swung his legs over the side of the table. "So… I'm free now?"
The first man nodded, slightly distracted with the locks on the door.
"You lie" Quatre leapt towards to them, wild and feral, his lips pulled back. "You all lie to me and expect me to believe."
A quick jerk and the first mans neck was broken. Quatre picked up a scalpel that was lying beside the table he had occupied. He faced the second man. He laughed. Letting the joy of life bubble out. He was alive and could now do something. And he felt no guilt. Nothing at all.
A few slashes and the man was dead, his blood soaking Quatre's hands. But it didn't matter. It wasn't real. A few moments later and he was out in the halls. Stalking his prey.
They all lied to him. They would all die.
He laughed as he slashed and stabbed. Their blood covering him. They all lied to him, were all in on it. They all said it was real.
These people they would remember this day… the day they tried to break him and failed.
Eventually the soldiers cornered him. A troop of eight, guns at ready. He smiled at them, asked them the question that he had asked everyone. He didn't want to kill innocents, those that would tell him the truth. They didn't deserve to die. These few there lied, lied right there to his face. He advanced. They had guns. He needed a gun to fight them to punish them. That was okay then.
A twist and a turn, he got his hands on one of the weapons and pulled it from the surprised grasp of the soldier. They didn't expect him to charge them. Silly people. They still didn't realize that had figured them out. That he knew that this form wasn't real. It didn't matter if he got hurt here as long as he believed he could keep moving he would. Wounds cannot hamper something that doesn't exist.
He had archived his goal though. He now had a gun. A gun and a scalpel. He was one better than them. Them that only had guns. He had a gun and a scalpel, two weapons were better than one… two was always better that one. He would win this. They only had one and there clenched in his bloody fist was a gun and a gleaming knife. They couldn't beat him
Never.
Guns fired. Bullets hit his body. He didn't bother to doge, to minimize the damage. His bullets hit them too. They fell he didn't. That's cause they're not real. I am. I continue.
Continue he thought as his body collapsed.
Continue. His world went black. Ahh they were changing it again. He was too strong for this one. They were changing it… again…
One of the soldiers nudged the body with the toe of his boot. "For a kid with a scalpel he sure did a lot of damage"
His comrade looked back down the halls, unable to see anything but the bodies and blood.
"That was no kid."
***end***
