Ch. 66: New Resolve

A.N.:

Hey everyone!

I apologize for how long it has taken me to update. My classes are taking up most of my time these days.

Anyway,

I really wanted to get this up by Halloween but that didn't happen so I'm kinda bummed about that.

However,

I hope that it was all worth it and that you all enjoy the new chapter.

Stay tuned because the next chapter will be a lemon.

Read and review if you want

Oh, and Happy Halloween!

Upon returning to the waiting room where the rest of my group and the nurse was waiting for us, I found that the mood had seemingly changed as the Replica had experienced everything I had through our bond. However, it was not a mood of depression or fear. Instead, it was a sense of renewed determination and a fresh wave of the highly-focused, militarized yet barbaric level of aggression that had become synonymous with the Spartans. It was not a mood confined to just Dark Signal, Wolf Pack, or the remnants of F.E.A.R. either. I could feel the surge of renewed determination and savagery in the rest of the Spartan War Machine fighting back in the real world. Merely being trapped in a different reality did not severe the link between my battle-hardened soldiers and I.

Foxtrot 813 was the first to speak up as I walked towards where they were standing in the center of the room. After lifting his Patten Assault Rifle up in the air as he held the grip with his right hand and had the butt of the weapon against his armored right shoulder, he remarked with the fury audible in his voice even through his helmet's modifier, "Who the fuck does that asshole think he is?!"

The Orbital Drop Replica soldier then said without losing any malice in his disguised voice, "God or not, that prick is going down!"

Several members of Dark Signal struck Foxtrot's shoulders in approval of the soldier's declarations while he nodded and gave short replies at each one of them as they did. As I stopped before them, I commented, "I don't know but I do know that we are going to kick his ass. Lieutenant Chen's sacrifice will not be in vain as long as we've got something to say about it!" The group of veterans let out a simultaneous thundering war cry in agreement.

Before we could address each other on the subject any further, Chlöe walked up to stand next to me on my left. When the emotionally dead nurse stopped, she informed me in a calm, professional tone, "My condolences for your loss."

I nodded to show my gratitude before I remarked, "Appreciate the hint about how to defeat it. I know your superiors must not approve of your decision to help us."

The beautiful veteran caregiver gave the slightest twitch before she informed me, "Please do not concern yourself, monsieur. Management has been dissolved in light of the recent spike in the cost of business." At that moment, the entire building shook so violently that we all, with the exception of Alma and Chlöe, lost our footing and fell to the floor. The lights in the room briefly flickered while minute amounts of the ceiling rained down upon us as if we were in a light snowstorm.

With my revolver held at the ready, I stood back up and quickly scanned my surroundings for potential threats. The veteran soldiers around me followed suit as they got to their feet. Alpha 1 moved to stand close to me. My brother and I then alternated directions that we were facing to prevent any assailant from being about to sneak up behind one of us. Our caution was proven to be warranted seconds later when the failing light fixtures in the room and, presumably in the entire building, died completely to leave us in total darkness.

Almost instantly, the cool blue light of various weapon-mounted tactical flashlights began to illuminate the dark waiting room. After an awkward moment of fumbling around in the dark, I drew my tactical flashlight and, holding it firmly in my gloved left hand beneath my magnum in a way that had the butt of the revolver's grip perched on top of my left wrist, I continued to scan for incoming threats. The sounds of heavy metallic banging filled the air for a moment and I quickly realized that it was the sound of the heavy locked doors of the patient rooms opening likely as a result of Chlöe's superiors abandoning both her and the building as if it was all a lost cause.

All manner of inhuman cries, roars, and other generally unsettling noises erupted from the dark abyss around us. Several obscenities came from the members of my squad as the sounds continued as the once secure facility turned into a madhouse that was a playground for the twisted incarnations of pure insanity and evil that occupied the darkest corners of both the normal and spiritual worlds.

Moments later, I heard the sound of several sets of heavy footsteps approaching the entrance to the room. We just barely had enough time to spin around and face the double metal doors with our weapons at the ready before they flew off their hinges. Three enormous humanoids that nearly reached the ceiling at more than eight feet tall with almost comically disproportionate arms that were so long that they could have dragged their knuckles along the ground if they had let them hang by their sides. They did not have any recognizable human facial features other than their oversized and milky white eyes. In the second or so before they were struck by a hail of gunfire, I saw that their skin was dark grey and wet with some kind of liquid.

We opened fire on them, immediately cutting down the first one, which was the closest to us, and hitting the second one multiple times. The first humanoid collapsed forward onto the ground while the second let out a disturbingly human-sounding cry before it followed the third one out the open entrance and into the dark hallway beyond. The sound of our various firearms being reloaded filled the air as we prepared for the next group of attackers.

As I reloaded my revolver, I inquired, "Were you able to locate Akira?"

The unfazed nurse informed me, "Yes, monsieur. Akira Wade is currently in the morgue."

I felt my stomach drop as I heard her reply. The morgue? Had we come this far only to lose her at the last moment?

As if sensing my distress, Chlöe assured me, "Do not worry, monsieur. There is still enough time to save her. The morgue is on the bottom level of the facility. We will have to get to the far end of the other wing in order to access the entrance to the stairwell that connects the floors. The patients are very dangerous and they especially hate humans. They cannot be allowed to escape. I trust that I can rely upon you and your men to handle that task, yes?"

I nodded my head, which caused a brief sensation of dizziness to erupt inside my mind as the overwhelming smell of iron flooded my nostrils from my black, blood-soaked skull ski mask. I was accustomed to the smell of blood and death but it was still nauseating to have the stench so close to my face. Shaking off the sensation, I holstered my revolver. Despite its power, I suspected that the creatures that we were about to fight through would require something with more firepower and ammunition reserve.

I looked down at my wife, which caused the beautiful goddess, who was still in her child form though now she had an inky black miasma surrounding her that was just barely visible in the low light of the dark room, to meet my gaze, I began to request, "I need…"

However, she interrupted me by manifesting the Patten Assault Rifle that I had thought I lost in the cemetery world that I had just been in. It was definitely the same rifle because I could see the same superficial damage to its hardy metal alloy frame. My combat knife was still securely attached to my weapon beneath its barrel.

As I took hold of my favored weapon, Alma remarked with a flat tone, "That may not be enough."

I gave her a puzzled look beneath my mask. In response, my wife explained, "Some of them aren't human in origin and they delight in killing people. Your kind has known about them for centuries but very few of you have ever encountered them and even fewer of you live to tell the tale."

I nodded before retrieving a clip from the reserves that I still had and, as I loaded the fresh magazine into the empty slot in my rifle, I smirked slightly as I noted the telltale red tape that I had wrapped around the clip's exterior approximately three-quarters of the way down its frame. I felt the telltale prickly sensation inside my mind as Alma sought the reason for my smirk. I shot her an irritated look before I said, "You really could just ask."

The powerful demoness gave me a quick pout before she replied, "You're no fun."

I rolled my eyes before I explained, "Plastic-tipped rounds. They provide the aerodynamics of a regular round combined with the mushrooming of Jacked Hollow Points."

After activating the flashlight attached to my rifle, which began to illuminate the area immediately before it with its bright blue beam, I cycled my weapon to chamber the first round from the clip. Then, as I moved towards the exit, I addressed my team, "You heard Chlöe. We need to get to the morgue. Attacks by non-human entities are expected. Do not hesitate or you will die." I turned to face them before I finished, "Hooah?"

They instantly replied, "Hooah!"

Turning back to face the forcibly opened exit and the dark hallway beyond it, I raised my rifle up at the ready and then began to advance out of the room. Alpha 1 with his automatic shotgun loaded with solid slug shot in the place of the standard ball-bearing spread shot followed close behind me and would have been walking right beside me if the narrow path would have allowed him. Alma was between the two of us as the slender frame of her child form allowed her to squeeze between our much larger frames. Foxtrot 813 followed close behind the three of us and the rest of Dark Signal was right behind him.

The scene that was revealed by my flashlight was one of utter chaos. The cell doors were either wide open or, such as in the case of one of the cells halfway down the hallway, had been forced open and laid against the wall opposite its hinges.

As I entered the hallway, I saw a Caucasian man in his mid-30's dressed in an orderly uniform running towards us from the opposite end of the hall. To keep from blinding him with my rifle's mounted flashlight, I lowered my weapon until the blue beam was illuminating the ground in front of him. However, even so, I could make out the terrified expression on the orderly's face as he frantically sprinted towards us. After a few moments, I saw what it was that had terrified the man enough to flee down an intimidating dark corridor that surely had inhuman entities waiting to ambush anything foolish enough to pass by the open cells.

A massive black mass appearing behind the fleeing individual caused me to lift my rifle back up to reveal the identity of the being. I nearly froze as the icy blue beam illuminated a humanoid that was just barely able to clear the ceiling that was nine feet from the floor. The abomination's skeletal frame was partially obscured by what appeared to be a kind of dirty, bloody cloak that was made from a composite of various animal hides. The entity's head was the bare skull of a male deer judging by the antlers that protruded out of it just above both eye sockets. Two milky white eyes glared back at me from within the hollow sockets of the deer skull.

I could hardly believe what I was seeing as the "Spirit of the Lonely Places" was upon the fleeing man in just two impossibly long strides and grabbed its new victim with its bony hands. The orderly's painfully loud screams were cut short as the monstrosity ripped his head and most of his neck off the rest of his body with the jaws of the deer skull. A loud, wet, crunching sound filled the air as the predator consumed the entire body in under five second by taking massive chunks out of the corpse with its supernaturally strong jaws. After eating the orderly, the antlered abomination looked at us and then roared with a strange tone that sounded almost as if its lungs were filled with water. Even through the overpowering smell of iron, I became aware of a pungent odor that I immediately recognized as decaying flesh as I began to fire my weapon.

According to F.E.A.R.'s Database, which had since been supplemented with Alma's knowledge of the supernatural and paranormal world, "The Spirit of the Lonely Places" was an ancient being described by Native Americans living along the Eastern Coast, the Algonquian people to be specific, as an evil shapeshifting spirit that obsessively hungers for human flesh. Although "wild" Wendigo encounters are possible, the most common encounters are of former human beings that are corrupted by the possessing spirit of the beast to the point that the victim has been twisted into a "converted" Wendigo.

The manner by which a person was possessed by the spirit varies by source but the most commonly accepted way is that the individual manages to survive an attack by the Wendigo but was directly injured by the creature in the process. Whether or not the Wendigo purposely allows the humans it "infects" to escape is unknown. However, the end result is the same regardless.

After surviving the attack, the victim begins to become corrupted by the invasive spirit until he or she begins to crave human flesh to the point of obsession even if said individual has readily available food supplies. The moment that the person succumbs to her or his ravenous hunger and cannibalizes another human being, he or she has crossed the point of no return. Even if the victim seeks cleansing, the inevitable conversion into a Wendigo is set into motion. Eventually, the individual completely loses her or his humanity and completely takes on the physical and behavioral traits of the Wendigo.

In this sense, the legend of the Spirit of the Lonely Places mirrors modern contemporary zombies and may have even been an inspiration for what eventually became the method by which most zombie infections are said to spread. Although some sources argue that the Wendigo is actually a cryptid and not a supernatural entity, it is generally viewed as a cautionary tale to help prevent the social taboo of cannibalism in the harsh, unforgiving regions of Canada and northern parts of what would eventually become the United States. Due to being associated with that particular region, the Wendigo is linked to harsh winter conditions and starvation.

According to legend, the only way to kill the beast without giving the spirit the chance to escape and possess a new host is to burn it and destroy the heart. Although it is primarily a solitary ambush predator that prefers to stalk its prey from afar and over long distances, its immense size and supernatural strength make it a formidable foe for a lone human being. However, in this situation, out of its natural element surrounded by concrete walls and facing multiple well-armed and experienced soldiers, the Wendigo was at a severe disadvantage.

However, even though it was at a severe disadvantage, the abomination shrugged off the torrent of incoming small arms fire as it advanced towards us with its massive strides all while giving off the loudest, most inhuman wail that I had ever heard. The creature's abnormal body structure made it far more difficult to aim for its heart and it was nearly upon us in less than three seconds.

The possessed body succumbed to our weapon fire about a foot away from where I was standing. Letting out a strange mournful cry, the bullet-riddled skeletal abomination collapsed forward onto the ground into an unceremonious heap. Our victory was short lived as the possessing spirit emerged from the remains without hindrance due to having not been dispatched in the correct manner.

However, unlike the body that had been possessed, the specter was taking its traditional form. The modern portrayal of the Wendigo was similar to the abomination that we had just cut down. The traditional description of the spirit was of a tall, emaciated humanoid that had the appearance of a frozen corpse. The supernatural entity quickly changed its appearance back to that of the bipedal deer before it opened its bloody jaws wider than should have been physically possible. It then let out a deafening roar that sounded as if its non-existent lungs were filled with fluid.

My head was filled with an almost debilitating amount of agony as a result of the abomination's roar. I gritted my teeth as I forced myself to ignore the pain and began to fire my assault rifle. However, as I did, I heard the loud mechanical click of my rifle that indicated that I was out of ammunition.

Just before the monstrosity could reach down and grab me, Alma suddenly manifested between us in a blood-soaked version of her child form. The Wendigo awkwardly halted before the raven-haired demoness. In that moment, as the two supernatural beings stared each other down, I could have sworn that I saw genuine fear in the cryptid's dead eyes.

The abomination let out a growl as it swiped its clawed left hand at Alma. Before it could even reach her, the skinny specter was propelled almost vertically straight up in the air by a massive psionic blast that violently smashed the Wendigo against the ceiling with enough force to leave an indentation in it. The stunned beast then fell back to the ground where it landed face first about a foot away from where the raven-haired psionic was standing letting out a grunt of both surprise and fury as it did.

My wife's infamous dark nature surfaced as she let out a soft delighted giggle as she enjoyed hearing the Wendigo's cry. The demoness's taunt caused the ancient spirit to roar even louder than it had before as it began to crawl towards her at an unnaturally fast pace. However the moment that it had hit the floor, a large tree branch-like tentacle had materialized in the center of the hallway as if it had sprouted out of its concrete surface. The Wendigo had only just started to move forward when the tentacle wrapped around the center of its skeletal frame.

The spirit was powerless as its captor proceeded to smash it into the walls on either side of it with enough force to first crack them and then, after five strikes, penetrate through them. Before the manifested tentacle could deliver a final blow, the Wendigo used its powerful claws to rip it apart. The beast fell to the floor and then began to try to crawl away from Alma, much to her amusement.

As several more tentacles began to manifest out of the floor and extend towards the fleeing spirit, she called out to him in a singsong tone and with a voice that was disturbingly full of inhuman cruelty, "You cannot escape…I'm hungry." I watched in both shock and curiosity as the tentacles wrapped around the Wendigo and then proceeded to rip the spirit apart while simultaneously consuming him much as they had consumed my teammates in Fairport. The abomination let out one last howl before being silenced forever.

Seconds later, everything was silent and only the pools of thick black sludge where the tentacles had been remained to show that it had not all been a hallucination and that Alma had indeed "eaten" the Wendigo. I could not decide if it was poetic justice or mere coincidence that the infamous Spirit of the Lonely Places had met such a fitting demise. Perhaps I was looking too much into it though.

When Alma turned to look back at us, she licked her lips before stating with a somewhat disappointed tone, "Not much meat on that one…I was hoping for something a little more filling."

Our demeanor must have given us away because she flashed us a confused expression before asking, "What?"

After sensing our collective thoughts, the raven-haired goddess smiled darkly before she remarked, "You do remember who I am, yes? I am Alma Wade, the Mother of the Apocalypse…the embodiment of rage and hatred whose mere presence drives even the strongest to madness…I might just kill you but I also might make you curse the day that you were born just because it amuses me and I happen to be bored."

My wife giggled softly and then reminded us, "Did you forget? We are the 'bad guys'. Knowing full well the number of innocent lives that would be forever ruined, we threw the world into chaos to get revenge upon a corporation that wronged us all. We murdered, lied, and otherwise manipulated our way into a position of absolute authority so that we could 'save' the world when a far more dangerous enemy took advantage of the weakened state that we had put it in."

Reloading my rifle, I scoffed and then remarked, "It isn't about being bad or good. It is about survival. It is better to be feared than to be loved. When all of this is over, we will be the ultimate victors...not Armacham, NATO, the U.S., or anyone else…us."

Before there could be any further discussion, the sound of multiple whispering voices drew my attention to the far end of the hallway. The beams of our flashlights illuminated six black figures that were only humanoid-shaped in the vaguest sense as they exited different cells. I could not determine if they had simply manifested inside of the cells to get close enough to attack us or if they had been hiding from the Wendigo and the other far more powerful supernatural beings. After they had fully exited the cells, I could see that they varied in size with the largest being about the size of an adult man and the smallest being about the size a young child. Despite being pitch black, they more closely resembled the surface of an ocean than shadows as pure negative psionic energy pulsated through their forms.

I began to suspect that they were not even "living" entities as they started to aimlessly move in our general direction. Beneath the sound of collective whispering, I could also just barely make out what sounded like bones moving against each other. Much as the Wendigo had been doing, it appeared that these entities were possessing the remains of human hosts. However, unlike the Spirit of the Lonely Places, these entities displayed little, if any, intelligence as they shuffled towards us. I would not have been surprised if they were only paying us any attention due to being drawn to the massive amount of negative psionic energy that Alma and I were collectively broadcasting like two radio transmitters combining into one large signal.

I idly wondered if it was natural behavior for supernatural entities to actively hunt down any form of psionic presence, meaning either another entity or a human being possessing a noteworthy amount of energy, that entered its territory. After all, I had witnessed Alma stalking the members of Dark Signal, the girl in the ATC lab in Paris combining with the original spirit of my daughter only for neither of them to be strong enough to overpower the other and, thus, creating Amara, Akira absorbing the power of the Alma of her original universe, Alma absorbing the power of her counterpart from the "good" universe after hijacking her body in order to destroy that entire universe in one massive psionic blast after they had sent their Becket to try to kill me, the corpse-jumping spirit masquerading as a stereotypical Japanese schoolgirl that was currently stalking me, the Wendigo being uncharacteristically aggressive in Alma's presence only to be eaten by her, and now these strange entities.

My wife's enchanting voice filled my mind as she asked, 'You remember when we watched those nature documentaries together, Michael?'

I replied, 'Yeah…'

My other half continued, 'Think of it like that…there can only be one apex predator in a hunting ground. It only ends one way when we encounter each other, which is why we tend to avoid each other as much as possible.'

I gave a slight nod in acknowledgement before I began to fire my rifle in short, controlled bursts at the figures while I slowly advanced down the hallway. My first burst caught the front figure, incidentally the largest of the group, seemingly by complete surprise. Spurts of what resembled thick motor oil ejected out of the figure while distorted, agonized screams filled the air as the plastic-tipped rounds ripped apart the entity. As I had expected, the figures were fragile and would have only been a threat for a lone individual or a small group of unarmed people and, even then, only if they attacked in mass.

Having taken only a few rounds, the figure effectively melted as the negative psionic energy fell to the ground in a large puddle leaving an almost completely bare human skeleton. The bones were a disgusting pale yellow color and looked as dry as kindling, indicating that the unfortunate individual had been dead for quite some time. The now completely exposed skeleton remained upright for a moment before it fell apart and collapsed in a heap on the stained floor with every bone making an unsettling hollow sound as if they were a set of macabre musical instruments.

I dispatched three more of the figures, which in turn revealed the corpses in various stages of decomposition beneath their inky black exteriors, as I continued to advance forward towards the main lobby. The remaining spirits retreated back into the darkness of the cells. However, as we continued towards the lobby, we were assailed by a steady barrage of supernatural entities but, luckily, most of them were merely more corpses possessed by negative psionic energy.

At first, they were attempting to rush us from the front after manifesting near the end of the hallway. By the time that we reached the exit to the wing and were about to enter the main lobby, however, they had started to attack from behind us and also occasionally from the side through the dark interiors of the cells that we passed.

My initial supposition about their intelligence was proven to be incorrect as it became clear that rather than simply operating on instinctive hunger for more negative energy, they were actually operating on a collective intelligence as they attempted to adjust their tactics to overcome our resistance. Collective or group intelligence, while initially inferior to individual intelligence, possesses tremendous adaptive capabilities that its counterpart lacks. In a way, they reminded me greatly of "The Hive" that we encountered in the offshore ATC facility.

However, the entities that we encountered in the rapidly deteriorating hospital were far less dangerous in comparison to the possessed victims of The Hive and its "queen". Even when one finally managed to get the drop on me by falling down from the ceiling to land between Alpha 1 and myself, it inflicted no more physical damage to me than the average person could do with a single punch to the side of my head despite having hit me with the full force of its body in an awkward lunging attack. Furthermore, its style of attack left it incredibly vulnerable and it was dispatched seconds later by Alpha 1 when my brother picked it up by its "head" with his left hand and then crushed the underlying skull against the nearby left concrete wall with a loud, wet crack while he simultaneously dispatched another one with his shotgun as it lunged at him from a cell on the right side of the hall.

When we reached the exit of the wing, we found the heavy security gate completely compromised with the once imposing gate lying on the ground in front of the check-in desk. The mutilated bodies of two nurses were lying against the front of the desk surrounded by pools of blood while what I could only guess was the upper portion of a male orderly was lying on top of the once neat and organized desk. As we entered the lobby, I heard Chlöe let out an irritated groan before she quietly cursed under breath as she saw how her station had been defiled.

The ticking sound of the somehow still functional grandfather clock was soon joined by the unmistakable sound of a body being hacked up with a large blade. We turned to face the far right corner of the lobby and there, revealed by the beams of our flashlights, was the hunched over frame of a tall man dressed in a blood-soaked pink bunny suit. The man was hacking up the body of another nurse with a bloody axe and may have also been eating her since I noticed that his left hand was covered with more blood than his right hand. Moreover, when he stood and then turned to face us, there was an unusual amount of blood around the mouth of the disturbingly comical costume.

As the hulking man stood before us with his large wooden-handled axe held at the ready, Alma remarked from where she was standing slightly in front of me, "I told you The Bunny Man is real."

Before I could reply, to my surprise, Alpha 1 calmly walked past us and continued to slowly approach The Bunny Man until he was only about five yards away from the murderer. The veteran Heavy Trooper silently stared down the maniac with his one functional glowing eye on his now infamous cracked ceramic mask for a moment as he casually held his Vollmer Automatic Shotgun down in front of him. The Bunny Man appeared to be slightly intimidated by the heavily armored and built Replica standing fearlessly in front of him as if daring him to make the first move.

However, the blood-soaked killer quickly regained his composure and charged forward towards my brother with his axe raised up and ready to deliver a fatal blow. Alpha 1 remained where he was until the last possible moment. As the bunny suited-man swung his axe downward, the veteran intercepted the strike by raising his shotgun up so that it ended up just past the head of the axe. The blade of the head stopped only inches away from his forehead but the soldier was completely unfazed as he swung his right elbow into the side of the man's head.

The Bunny Man staggered backwards a few steps and could not recover in time before Alpha 1 followed up by firing his shotgun into the man's left knee. A grunt of agony escaped the suited killer as he collapsed onto one knee but only had enough time to clutch his compromised joint with his left hand before the Heavy Trooper smashed him across his face with the butt of his shotgun. The sound of cracking bone filled the air along with the sound of the metal axe head striking the floor as The Bunny Man collapsed onto his hands.

Alpha 1 towered over the murderer for a moment before stomping down the man's right arm with his right foot. The blow broke the killer's arm, the bones visibly protruding out of the furry pink skin of the bunny suit, and caused him to release his grip on his axe while his other hand reached up to grip his broken arm. Moving quickly, my brother grabbed the axe with his left hand. Then, standing over the unarmed bunny suited murderer with the bloody axe raised above his head, Alpha 1 yelled, "Die motherfucker!" As he yelled the programmed statement, the Heavy Trooper swung the axe down and decapitated The Bunny Man with his own iconic weapon.

The sound of whispering coming from the wing that we had just exited drew my attention back behind us. Akira did not have long and we were burning through too much time trying to fight our way through the patients of the hospital. I ordered, "Chlöe, Alpha 1, on me. The rest of you set up shop here and draw their attention while we retrieve Akira."

They gave their respective responses with Morales commenting, "Go get her, man. We will hold them here."

I nodded in response and then began to make my way through the now open entrance to the right wing of the facility. This wing's layout mirrored the left wing except, instead of cells, the rooms were normal hospital rooms similar to the ones in the underground Harbinger Facility in Fairport. With the rest of Dark Signal drawing the attention of most of the entities, we were able to make our way to the far end without much difficulty aside from the occasional straggler that was easily dispatched.

Upon reaching the far end of the wing, we located the entrance to the stairwell that allowed access to the various levels of the hospital. The steel grey door was still locked and, near the top, had a sign that read, "Authorized Personnel Only". Chlöe unlocked the door with one of her keys and then opened the door to allow us to take the lead. I entered the bitterly cold stairwell to find a seemingly endless amount of ascending and descending stairs that traced the contours the square-shaped shaft. I sighed loudly as my hatred of stairs surfaced before I began my descent towards the lower level.

The sound of our combat boots hitting the concrete steps echoed through the stairwell as we descended as fast as we could to try to reach the very ill, if not dying, psychic. As we did, the building began to shake with increasing intensity as the hospital and the surrounding plane of existence neared the verge of complete collapse. We had reached the halfway point when I heard Akira inside my mind.

The once incredibly powerful psionic's voice was now little more than a hoarse whisper as she said, 'D-Daddy…wh…'

I assured her, 'Hang in there just a little bit longer, sweetie. Almost there.'

The only remaining emotion left in Akira's voice was one of defeat as she replied, 'N-no…leave me. Sa-save your…get out…I'm…I'm not worth…'

By then, we had reached the bottom level and Chlöe opened the steel double doors that allowed access into the wing. We had just barely entered the green and while tiled hallway before another set of incredibly violent shaking rocked the hospital. When I got back to my feet, I looked back to see that the staircase had been rendered inaccessible by the collapsed shaft. The hospital was also now shaking almost constantly, signaling that we had mere minutes to reach Akira and then escape before the entire realm was destroyed. The open door to the morgue was only three hundred yards away and I began to sprint towards it.

As I did, I heard my alternate daughter say, 'Don't…please…d-don't die for m-me, Daddy.'

I replied confidently, 'No one else is going to die today.'

The ceiling of the hallway began to collapse behind us as we sprinted the remaining distance to the morgue. If I had lost my footing for even a second, it would have meant almost certain death but I refused to leave Akira behind. She was not even technically my daughter but I was not going to abandon her to her fate. As I neared the open door to the morgue, Alma informed me, 'I have already transported everyone else out. Get Akira, Michael.'

With only seconds to spare, I burst into the morgue. Looking around frantically, I spotted Akira lying on top of one of the stainless steel autopsy tables. She was deathly pale with almost all of the color in her hair and eyes gone. She was rail thin and dark black veins were visible beneath her almost translucent skin. Only the faintest glimmer of life remained in her steel grey eyes as she weakly raised her right hand out towards me upon seeing me enter the morgue.

Indeed, the girl that had killed countless people across multiple universes was long gone and all that remained was a frightened child. I started to run towards her but, at that moment, the ceiling of the morgue began to collapse. All of our effort seem to have been for not for a second as I realized that I could not reach her in time. However, just as all seemed lost, I felt Alpha 1 roughly grab me before he then threw me across the room.

My brother's quick thinking proved to be just enough to allow me to reach Akira just in time after I landed and then rolled to get back on my feet. I had just wrapped my arms around her when a loud cracking sound filled the air as the ceiling completely collapsed. Just before our bodies were completely crushed, my vision was overwhelmed by a bright flash of light as Alma transported us out of the disintegrating realm.