Warnings: mentions of amputation
A/N: you might have noticed that this update is really late. that's because at any given time I'm thinking about White Knight going EVO. having his precious control taken away from him internally, losing his own body and mind...what a nightmare! and Six gets to relive One going EVO! fun for the whole family. anyways here's like 7k words because I too have lost control
quick question: should I add a section up here that lists what episode(s) the chapter is based on?
this happens around a week after Obligations, Obligations
Reviews:
YellowAngela: thank you! and I understand what you mean. if I wrote a reskin roleswap/1:1, I feel like there wouldn't be enough going for it to justify itself; there's nothing stopping people from just watching the actual series. gotta bring something new to the table.
I'll loosely follow all three seasons of Generator Rex. obviously some events and the timing of the events will change, and because the characters are different there are some 'episodes' which are going to be vastly different or missing. for example, while this one is mostly based off of Lockdown, it also has the unresolved parts of Promises, Promises, Divide By Six (Agent and Cure go for a jolly ride), and Frostbite (it's literally impossible for Frostbite to happen in Generator Knight. Knight can't have too many nanites for...reasons)
thereal13thfirewolf: thank you for sticking around for this roleswap, I wasn't too sure what the reaction would be considering the tiny fandom and the fact that some people still don't like Knight
Guest: I can't paste any symbols in here pretend there is a thumbs up
Knight was bored.
Not the tired bored that he could sleep off. Not the bored that was staved off by looking at nothing in particular or talking to himself.
And not THAT sort of bored, either. The sheets were white but awkward to clean.
It was the kind of bored that made his fingers twitch, his teeth grind, his eyes roam in hopes of finding any action in the stark room.
The kind of bored that left a hollow feeling in his head as he sat, knees pressed to his chest, in the bed of his glorified prison cell.
Nothing here felt exciting. While milk was nice, fighting, even without his builds and a simple pistol or just his fists, got his blood pumping and his eyes sparkling with a dangerous light.
And though it was a bit aggravating that a stranger knew more about himself than he did— Knight had to admit. There was something about hearing Six comment on Knight's quirks, making small references to a life he'd never know, brushes against skin that felt like they held much more meaning than a congratulatory pat —
(Six returning to his silent, stoic self after he turned, expecting laughter, and got confusion instead.
Most of the time Six had an accusing expression on his face. Like Knight was supposed to give a heartfelt apology, for Knight to explain his past actions that he'll most likely never remember.
"You've changed."
Knight barely knew Six and he was disappointing him.)
— that brought an unexplained warmth to his chest and he couldn't help but smile at the memories.
The warmth didn't drive away the urge to drive his fist into the nearest wall, splitting both skin and tile while splattering red across the white.
His hand clenched.
It wouldn't do anything, he repeated to himself, forcing his breath to be deep and slow, I'd still be trapped here. It wouldn't do anything.
The thought of marking this place as his own, no matter how temporarily, tempted him.
Dr. Fell is looking after you this week, he reasoned and relaxed his hands, Six left just under an hour ago for a peacekeeping mission in Hong Kong.
Now that was an excellent counterpoint. He held down a shudder and flopped down onto the white, Providence-issued blanket and willed his muscles to loosen. Ever since Dr. Fell inspected him after word broke out Knight was a cure, Knight couldn't get his low drawl and the way he looked at him like he was an object, not a person, out of his mind.
So Knight was playing it safe. Not even a papercut; nothing worth visiting any doctors, but Fell would figure out a way to call him into the lab anyways. To "study how your nanites interact with your body to create enhanced healing capabilities", probably.
The bed creaked under his weight. The pillow felt like a rock against his head.
His mind was going to turn into pudding if this spell of inaction kept up.
Speaking of food —
Knight's stomach growled, a loud reminder of the meal he skipped. What was the day again? Whatever, he'd eat anything, dubious tacos or the meatloaf that Rex insisted that they all have every Friday or otherwise. And when Six looked at him funny for eating his third serving of the day while he'd barely picked at his first, well, that was his loss.
Crowded, clamorous, chaotic, Knight should have realized he'd made a mistake when a briefing dragged on for longer than normal and he wandered into the cafeteria with Six at peak dinnertime.
Too many eyes looking at him. Too many whispers behind his back. The atmosphere was suffocating and he excused himself from Six and smiled and said he'd be fine and —
A quick glance at the clock set the time as 10 PM; no way that any grunts or scientists would be at the cafeteria now. They were either sleeping or working. The next break was at midnight which left plenty of Knight-time at nighttime.
Therefore, nobody would be there to see him raid the communal fridge. Nobody would be there to break the peace. Everything would be his to dictate, his to control.
Not that he'd know if the clock was lying or not. He was deep enough in headquarters that time was told through soldier shifts and overheard gossip.
His mouth started to water at the thought of downing milk. Sneaking out of his room would be a brief respite from his monotonous existence, a small thrill that he could indulge in — soon, his thoughts were overridden with a plan to be completely unseen as he pilfered a carton of milk for his own.
The lock to his room was a complete joke; electronic, like most other things in Providence. A trivial task to hack into and overrule.
Fingers twitching, breath hitching from a faint buzz from the collar, a spark of gold carrying his command to Providence's interface, the door slid open under the impression Agent Holiday was visiting.
Dumb things. Nobody except Six visited him.
Those visits were few and far between, anyways.
Under a minute and he was already looking up and down the corridor for any signs of life. He stuck out like a sore thumb — though he did fit in with the overall, bland Providence palette, he was wearing the tank top and black combat shorts he was found with (with all of the blood washed off, courtesy of Providence. Well, most of the blood, if the vague pink stain on the white top said anything) and Providence-brand boots instead of the standard uniform.
He could go back and put it on to blend in better, but the thought of it made him retch. I'm not wearing that thing more than I'm required to.
At least they removed the cowbell when he used it as a blunt weapon in his first escape attempt. One hand holding the clapper so the bell wouldn't ring meant one hand not free to defend himself.
The collar, however, was 'upgraded' with a new tracker.
He wished the damned collar was removed along with the cowbell. They didn't trust him to give his body back; granted, Knight didn't trust them either.
Not a single one. Scientists in green with stories from a (possibly fake) shared past or otherwise.
His hand clenched around the corner of the wall. Food first, complaining later.
Shutdown signal sent to the surveillance camera that surveyed the area, a quick listen for anyone patrolling, Knight was hurrying away from his room to —
Knight ducked into a gap in the wall, shadows hiding his form from any onlookers.
Where was the cafeteria again?
He could walk to the nearest screen to ask for directions, but that would log his request for anyone to see; mostly for the security sector, but anyone curious and bored enough (Rex) could access it. At that point he might as well broadcast that he was going to the cafeteria to the whole base.
Wait.
Knight wanted to slap himself in the face. Technopathy wasn't just for opening maintenance hatches and prison doors, he could talk to technology the same way he commanded nanites.
Gold lines spread from his palm onto the wall he leaned against as he closed his eyes to focus. The map flashed in his vision, mostly yellow with a path of striking red leading towards his destination.
He strode towards the cafeteria, security cameras playing dead footage behind him, with confidence.
The door slid open, Providence logo splitting to reveal the cafeteria. The contrast between peak hours and now was astronomical; it was the difference between hearing a hundred voices talking and utter silence.
Knight poked his head through the doorway to survey the area.
The large room was completely empty, just as Knight predicted. Tables ordered neatly, identical chairs an equal distance away from the tables and perfectly perpendicular to them, and not a person in sight; in other words, the perfect place to eat.
Whistling a tune from the top of his head, he made his way to the communal fridges in the corner. The gaps between rows was large enough so he didn't have to worry about ruining the perfect order of the cafeteria (at least, before other people would do that for him), and within a minute he'd crossed the room to where the food was kept.
His mouth watered. His stomach growled. He was so close.
The fridge swung open with a press of his palm (a bit showy, he wasn't sure if they locked the fridge or not but commanding it to open was much easier) and he reached out to one of the cartons of homogenized milk near the back –
A hand stopped his own, fingers wrapped tightly around his wrist.
"Your form's sloppy."
"Wh—" Knight stared, numb, at the hand barring him from reaching his prize. A moment passed before his mind parsed who was talking to him, the person that apparently appeared out of thin air. "Agent Holiday?"
"I could hear you five corridors away. And your perception could use some work," she continued, not even acknowledging Knight's dumbfounded response. "I was only hiding under a table."
Like hiding under a table was the normal thing response to hearing someone approaching.
"The alert that 'I' was on the other side of Providence, visiting you, didn't hurt." Holiday brought her hand down, taking Knight's arm with it; he held back a wince. No way that twist wasn't on purpose. "Couldn't pick a person who actually talks to you?"
"He's in Hong Kong right now."
Holiday made an odd expression at him; anticipation, interest —
Concern?
Unless Knight was breaking down from hunger, that was a hint of sympathy on her face.
He couldn't fathom why. It irritated him.
Knight bristled, on the defensive. Ignoring him, Holiday kicked the fridge door shut in an agonizing fashion; the door drifted to a close, the cartons of milk slowly disappearing behind it.
"We're going on a mission," Holiday stated, "Milk can come later."
Though, where was the notification in his communicator?
"This isn't authorized, is it." A statement, not a question.
Holiday shrugged, confirming his suspicions. She turned around and motioned for Knight to follow; not that he had a choice, she still held on to his wrist.
Knight could almost fool himself into thinking this was a normal curing mission instead of a forceful abduction. Just that the alarms weren't blaring. And Rex wasn't on the screens, stumbling over his lines while trying to inform the base on the situation. And there weren't any grunts surrounding him to make sure he wouldn't run. And Six wasn't talking in his ear.
And Holiday had her hand clasped rightly around his wrist, wrenching him along to who-knows-where.
By the third turn, Knight had lost where they were on his mental map. The hallways had the exact same design, the exact same palette, and the exact same loneliness that permeated headquarters; honestly, they should name the sprawling halls and put some signs up.
Sectors and number designations worked fine. If you had a map or the world's finest memory.
Let Rex name 'em, too. Knight quickened his pace to keep up with Holiday's solid steps, giving up on trying to deduce where she was taking him. Might get more confusing though.
Left turn into an elevator, where Holiday's fingers ghosted over the numbers to their destination — seemed to be the floor the lab was on.
Maybe Holiday could name the halls. He tore his eyes away from her and coaxed his anxiety to a manageable level. Or Six.
And his heart rate shot up again.
Think about something else.
Like what? Where we're going? There were a multitude unknowns, he was helpless against Holiday's will when the collar still wrapped around his neck, and for all he knew Holiday was dragging him into an alley to exact revenge on attacking Rex.
Kid had it coming for him. He'd heard what Providence does to E.V.O.s, dragging them from the streets in the name of searching for a cure where they would never be seen again.
Sentient or not.
The stories he'd heard from the more humanoid E.V.O.s when he wandered the week following his awakening made his blood boil and his vision turn red; mostly tales of horror of what happens within the pristine white walls of Providence, exaggerated truths passed around that made them cower when an assault tank drew near.
Knight had seen their mutations. The power they held. Providence had no right to silence their voices, deem them subhuman.
Removing Providence's figurehead would send a message to them; we are worthy of recognition.
Look where that got me. I'm their newest symbol.
The elevator hummed to life as it carried them upwards, sound in the emptiness of headquarters.
Thinking about 'something else' raised his blood pressure even higher; the restless air between the two Providence agents didn't help either.
What was he supposed to do, talk?
May as well.
"You're an assassin, right?" Knight started, breaking the tense silence between the two.
"The correct term is 'agent'," without missing a beat, without breaking her stride, without even glancing at him, she answered, "I suggest you use it."
Knight internally winced; that wasn't a good start. "Then, agents tend to use secret code — why 'Holiday'?"
"What?"
"Agent 'Holiday'. Is there any reason for that designation or is it personal preference?"
This time, Holiday did turn — directly at him with an incredulous look on her face.
"Holiday is my last name."
"Oh."
Well, silence wasn't that bad, Knight decided. They didn't talk outside of work anyways, and even then they were orders snapped at Knight to hurry up, slow down, wait until they brought the E.V.O. to him. Why start now?
The quiet stretched to when they reached the lab, and Knight half-expected for Holiday to knock him out right then and there to strap him into one of the tables. Granted, he didn't know what she'd do afterwards in his imagination – maybe she and Dr. Fell were working together?
That was out of character. Even Holiday hated him.
A half-finished cylindrical object lay near the wall; something to scan and study his nanites, from what Six said. To be honest, Knight wasn't sure Six knew exactly what it was either – the topic was dropped in favour of small talk about the latest mission.
Holiday instead dragged him over to the lab's controls.
He'd had enough.
"Alright, you've made your point." Knight jerked his arm away in an attempt to break free from her grip, "You're cutting off circulation to my hand."
A slight exaggeration, but the tips of his fingers were starting to tingle. Not as uncomfortable as the extended, unwanted contact.
"Just ensuring you're following me."
A code was tapped into the console, too quick for Knight to see; not that it would stop him from hacking in. The lab rumbled under his feet and he scampered back in an undignified fashion.
"We're going to the Petting Zoo. People who normally work here are sleeping right now."
That explained why the research tower was moving downwards. Although…
"The whole lab going down seems like a waste of resources."
"Something about E.V.O.s being easier to transport," Holiday shrugged, her eyes looking forwards at the foliage within the Zoo. "I'm not the one who built it."
The trip down was uneventful; nobody bothered to check why the research tower was parked in the Petting Zoo when nobody was officially on it currently. Which was a security flaw he could exploit later.
Lush green forest, small dirt paths, the sound of diurnal E.V.O.s resting or nocturnal E.V.O.s prowling filling the unnatural air – the highly acclaimed cage of Providence was exactly how Knight remembered it.
Wasting no time, Holiday strode onward. Thankfully, without her death grip on him as she used both of her hands to move branches out of her way.
The feeling of someone holding onto him in the Zoo, both running in unison, brought the memory of Six's prone and bleeding form into his mind.
He never wanted to relive that.
Knight never strayed from Holiday's position as she continued. If Providence headquarters was hard to navigate, then Knight was hopeless in the Zoo – trees that looked the same, earth that looked the same, no technology nearby to give him a mental map, and added monsters ready to rip him to shreds.
The darkness from the imitation night made it worse.
Not soon enough, Holiday finally stopped. While Knight was physically fine from his nanites and his fit form, he wanted the ordeal to be over and done with as quickly as possible – go back, drink milk, take a shower, drink more milk, and sleep until his alarm woke him up for the morning briefing.
"You know, you could have just asked me to go to," Knight glanced at his surroundings, anger turning into a vague sense of fear — he didn't recognize this place. Granted, the only time he ever was in the Petting Zoo was the time he was caged there like — like some rabid animal, but the dense forest blocked out all the natural light and made the overgrown vault entrance even more foreboding, "This place. Where are we, anyway?"
"The Hole."
"The Hole — did Rex name it? Doesn't this organization have a religious theme – Purgatory or Paradise would have been fine. Why did you kidnap me to the worst-named place in Providence?"
Holiday grabbed Knight's wrist again in lieu of a real answer (ignoring his protests, of course), dragging him into the dark hallway — the vault door rolled to a close behind them and he could hear the hissing of a locking mechanism moving into place.
Not that it would stop him from escaping.
His right hand flexed, itching to release the cascade of metal to — whatever, just be out. To assure him that he was protected. That he could defend himself.
The shock against his skin wasn't painful, per say, but it was noticeable. A prickle against his neck and the phantom weight of the knowledge that what was rightfully his was taken away from him.
Disgusting. They were only delaying humanity's evolution.
(He tried hacking into the collar, once. Four days in when everyone let their guard down. He awoke with burns across his neck and Six above him, mumbling that they should turn down the voltage.
Two minutes; Knight's yelling choice curses, struggling against the restraints that tied him to the hospital bed. Six turned away and did his best to ignore him.
Knight could see him shaking.
Five minutes; it crashed down on him — he almost died. The electricity could have easily arched through his heart, killing him, someone with a grudge could have found his unconscious body, killing him, he could have been standing much too close to the railing and fallen down through the glass, killing him —
I almost died.
I wouldn't be able to finish my job.
He started laughing, then laughed so hard tears started falling and the laugh turned into choked gasps of air as the thought I almost died rattled in his head over and over again.
He couldn't remember much after that. He thinks Six sedated him.)
A few moments passed, quiet except for the sounds of Holiday and Knight's footsteps as they traversed deeper and deeper. He felt sweat beading on his forehead despite the chilly air — nobody knew they were there. It was dark enough to hide bodies.
Holiday, despite wearing a modest combat suit lacking the pouches and pockets her normal outfit had, probably had a hundred ways to kill him.
He shivered.
Holiday was paying close attention to him, he was sure of it; but the dark interior of the Hole and the element of surprise could work to his advantage. His arms were powerful even without the enhancements. A lunge to topple her, a punch to the throat to disable her, then –
Providence grunts surrounding him and being thrown right back into his cage. With added security.
Maybe not, then.
His eyes adjusted to the dim light, enough that he could see lines of red-grey where columns were but not nearly enough to see past the blob of shade in front of him.
He looked at Holiday's night vision goggles with envy.
Maybe he could design a build that allowed him to see in the dark? It would help, but at that point he could just make a flashlight or a laser.
"Are we almost there?" his question echoed against the hallway. Creatures behind reinforced doors stirred and Knight snapped his mouth shut while picking up his pace.
Holiday turned her head, the lenses of the goggles giving her the appearance of an EVO spider. Her gaze still pierced through them and Holiday made a motion that told him to shush.
He huffed. As if he couldn't tell.
It felt like hours to Knight, walking towards darkness with no end in sight and only Holiday's firm grip guiding him. His mind had wandered as the pillars and shadows blended together to form one shapeless mass, legs carrying him forward with no conscious decision.
Which led to him bumping right into Holiday. His momentum carried forwards into her, almost causing her to fall.
Almost. Instead, she straightened up and turned to look at him with the unnerving spider-eye goggles.
"The Hole usually houses E.V.O.s too dangerous to roam freely in the Petting Zoo. I didn't want to wake any of them up." Holiday lifted her night vision goggles, showing off her glare. "We're far away enough to talk now."
"We're right in front of a cage."
"I said usually. There's one exception."
That was the only warning she gave before the lock spun open, red replacing green before the door slid apart.
Inside –
Knight jerked away from the piercing, almost glowing red eyes in the dark — danger, his mind yelled at him and urged him to step back more, you're not safe.
Her nails dug into his skin through the fabric of her gloves, her silence a threat in itself.
The creature inside the cage shifted — though not by much. It rocked back and forth with strands of black hair drifting lazily, drool dripping out of its skull-like mouth, two fangs on either side of its head twitching in time with the clicks of Holiday's boots against the tile as she approached a screen in the wall —
The hallway hummed.
The red light brightened.
Holiday looked at the creature expectantly.
The E.V.O. let out a shriek as it ducked its head, hair swinging wildly. Why wasn't it trying to run, then? Or cover its sensitive eyes? Why was it —
Why was its body shaped so oddly —
Jagged wounds, imperfect circles, empty space where any of its limbs should have been. That was the first thing Knight noticed when his eyes adjusted to the crimson light.
It didn't look recent, no sign of blood, but the marks of violence were obvious. The wounds told the whole story — completely unlike the mutilated, ragged flesh and missing bone if a limb was ripped off, more like dozens of botched amputation attempts with one finally dismembering it. Uneven cuts scattered across all of what was remaining of the limbs. Some only breaking the skin and some digging deeper.
Whoever wounded the beast chopped it over, and over, and over —
(How did he know this? Why did he know this?)
The thing was pitiful; powerful shoulders that ended in stumps, places where legs would clearly begin stopping short, scars riddled across its bumpy blue-grey skin, the only movement from it being caused by its ragged breaths; no wonder it was kept in a cage, the E.V.O. would be eaten alive out in the Petting Zoo.
Sympathy; an emotion that was a surprise to Knight. He felt sympathy for the amputated creature chained in the deepest part of the Petting Zoo, held back from reaching its full potential.
Knight had a feeling Holiday didn't bring him here just to ogle at it.
"So," Knight paused, looking to Holiday for any direction, "What now?"
"You're the cure. Do your job."
Simple enough. Preparing himself, he reached out towards the creature and ignored the flecks of spit launched his way and touched its side –
There's something wrong.
That was his first thought. Why that came into his mind, he wasn't sure; everything was going exactly as planned so far. The ordered, glowing lines crawled from his palm up to his arm and down to the E.V.O., signifying the transferral of active nanites from it to Knight–
What transferral?
Order broke to chaos; as the lines travelled across the spider-like creature's body, passing over the bumps on its back and the stumps on the other side, they lost form. Strayed from their given path. Crashed into each other.
Became deformed. Twisted. Crooked.
All or nothing.
He didn't understand; why wasn't it being cured?
All the nanites or none of them.
"This isn't working," Knight hoped she couldn't hear the hint of panic edging onto his voice.
"No, no, this has to be a mistake." Holiday's expression was strained between stoic and hysterical, her eyes darting between the EVO and Knight. "You have to cure her. That's what you do."
"I'm trying, but — wait, her?"
This time, Holiday's eyes settled on the EVO. The tranquilizer stayed pointed at its main torso, where Knight's gold lines lost all sense of order and turned to jagged lightning instead.
"Can you elaborate on—"
"This isn't the time for talking! Just —" She gave one, last forlorn look to the spider-like creature and turned that crestfallen gaze to Knight. "Please."
Knight turned away with sweat forming on his brow.
The gold lines prickled against his skin, like static electricity building — static electricity that needed to be discharged. It felt as though his skin was splitting apart, the cracks overflowing with yellow light as he tried, and tried, to bring its activated nanites in without pulling apart its body.
There were so many.
He was so hungry.
Knight could still feel the tug of every single nanite, a siren song; harvest it, turn it into dust, take all of it for yourself.
He commanded.
They resisted.
"Maybe the collars do impede your curing powers —"
"Holiday —"
"But what's the chances of it not showing up before? Unless — unless you're lying. You still hold a grudge against me, don't you?"
"No, I don't!" Well, that was a lie; who wouldn't be bitter at an agent who knocked them out just as a fight was getting fun? But whatever was preventing him from curing the E.V.O., from doing the one thing Providence kept him alive for, had nothing to do with Holiday.
"Then why can't you cure her? Just communicate with the nanites and bring her back!"
"I —" he stuttered, unable to hold back the dread forming. Had he lost the ability to cure? He'd be useless to Providence. "I don't —"
He had no doubt in his mind that they'd kill him in an instant if he became a burden.
With a burst of strength, Knight forced his will against the foreign nanites again —
Knight could talk to them. Shout his own commands, his own code —
But it was as if they were speaking in another language. They, the conglomerate, many against his few. Fewer. Burning away with no stabilizing, grounding force.
Two things were certain; hate, vengeance.
The foreign minds chanted in a tone that transcended language barriers, hate, vengeance.
The lines flashed red.
"Communication channels enabled. Unknown languages detected," he intoned, the gold in his blown-wide eyes shifting to crimson, "Run-time errors detected. A-protocol terminated. Abort. Abort. Protection of the host is first priority. Stand by engaged."
The world blurred around him in an array of red and grey. The streaks of crimson returned to his hands as his body refused his commands and went limp; it felt as though static was playing in his mind, blocking out thoughts. His eyes focused at nothing in particular, watching disinterested at Holiday reaching out for him, the creature spitting out drool as it screeched, his surroundings spinning as the static spread through his body.
Writhing as his arms felt like they were tearing themselves apart, screaming as his mind refused to understand the retaliation and reply; Knight was on the floor in seconds.
The first thing he knows is hate.
Before he felt the grit against his face, before he sensed liquid running down his face, before he heard engines growing louder and voices growing closer.
It's an ugly emotion that sinks its teeth into him, ripping him apart in a frenzy; move, it says, and though his body felt odd and the concept of pain hadn't yet set in, he complies. He pushes himself off the rough asphalt while fighting off a wave of dizziness, stands up despite his legs shaking.
There's a cocoon of unidentifiable metal surrounding him, white and unwelcoming. Not unyielding; a push and it gave way, opening like a flower in bloom.
The sky was clouded but not grey; the sun's light danced across them, yellows, oranges, and pinks blending and separating in a natural painting.
A beautiful sight, and he couldn't help but stare up in awe.
The flash of light and buildings being leveled in an instant, faraway screams cut short, maybe not as beautiful.
Loud and sudden, the sound of an explosion followed; the rumble shook his body and threatened to knock him over.
In the distance, a column of smoke rising into the sky as white specks fell out of it.
He ignores the confusion and loneliness and takes his first, staggered steps.
(You're not alone. Sirens mixed with the cacophony.)
Weak. He was weak.
He was stronger before.
He hates whatever did this to him. Power. Wanted it back. Needed it back.
Priority: find someone to explain the situation. Get a sense of order.
"Hello?" He flinched from his own voice, cracked and meek with disuse. The sound didn't feel like his own, ever since —
Ever since…?
New priority: Why couldn't he remember anything?
What did he remember?
Not much, considering the complete emptiness in his mind.
Who was he?
Knight, he clings onto the first word that comes to mind. I'm Knight.
That didn't feel complete. Maybe it was the lack of first name. Or last name, if Knight was his first name. Perhaps Knight was a nickname, or a designation?
He moved forwards. Coughed to clear the dust from his lungs. Shambling in the ruins of a city, deserted except for him and his thoughts.
What happened here?
You.
Knight.
"Knight?"
He jolted up, shaking from the adrenaline rushing through his system; the haze that settled through him dispersed at the sudden movement and within seconds his focus was on his surroundings.
Holiday's hands on his shoulders, shaking him back and forth, certainly helped too.
Knight picked himself off the floor, brushing any residue from the tiles off of his clothes; who knows what kind of dirt agents or E.V.O.s had brought in from the Petting Zoo that was hidden by the dim lighting? Routine cleanups or no, the moment he had free time he was going to throw his clothes into the uniform laundry chute and take a long, hot shower.
As long and hot as Providence allowed, anyway. That was usually around 5 minutes and lukewarm, colder if Rex was draining the water supply for a bath and the electricity to play video games in the bath.
Surprising that Providence technology was waterproof, considering the rate they were ripped apart by rampaging E.V.O.s.
"What happened?" They were still in the Hole, next to the (uncured, Knight bit his lip) E.V.O. That was obvious from the monster's wheezes and the darker interior that glinted in the red light; the rest of Providence was bright with fluorescent lights unless a power outage occurred. The E.V.O. threat never slept, so neither did headquarters.
What was less obvious was the time and what happened before he blacked out. The memories were vague and supersaturated — there was absolutely no chance that the onslaught of red was caused by the dim lighting.
"Funny," Holiday said in a way that suggested no humour, "I was about to ask the same thing."
There would be no answer from either of them, then.
Silence between the two as Holiday let go of Knight and stood up, turning her head away; Knight followed her gaze to the E.V.O.
The E.V.O. stared back at them, gaze unyielding, eyes unblinking. Guilt flashed through him before he could crush it.
"Is it—"
"She." Holiday didn't hesitate to correct him, and from her tone she wanted it to be the last correction.
"Is she important to you?"
This time, Holiday did hesitate; gaze moving from Knight back to the spider-like E.V.O. She was fighting an internal battle, probably whether to tell him whatever secret she was keeping or not.
This was a sensitive subject, wounds still raw. Knight could feel it.
"Look, I can forget this ever happened." Knight paused. "As long as you get me a glass of milk."
"Oh, right, sorry. Forgot about that. Must've been hungry for a 10 PM milk run." A quiet laugh escaped her lungs before she fell silent, staring at the floor before her eyes snapped to attention at Knight. "She's my sister."
The milk run — oh.
The E.V.O.
"What," how could he phrase this? The situation was even more fragile than he thought. He settled on the bland question, "What happened to her?"
"Her nanites activated," Holiday started, voice cracking; she moved to stand beside her sister, hand rested on one of the powerful shoulders, "I ran to the school as fast as I could once Providence called, but —"
Holiday's brows furrowed and she flinched at her sister's attempt to move, bringing her hand back as if it would hurt the E.V.O.
"She was hurting people. Her classmates. She was only thirteen at the time." Holiday was lost in the memory, hands clenched, arms shaking, and sadness in her eyes but otherwise her body did not betray her emotions. "I stopped her."
She stopped her sister.
She couldn't stop herself from tearing her sister apart. Uneven cuts made from instinct and adrenaline, not years of training.
"Providence hired me soon afterwards." Her tone completely shifted; sadness replaced by bitterness. "I was apparently impressive out in the field. As long as I work with Providence, they'll do everything they can for my sister."
What could he say to that? That everything wasn't enough? No amount of sympathy would seem genuine since he had never experienced anything like it in his short memory. Advice was out of his skillset of "wait in Providence until you're needed to cure an E.V.O." — and even that purpose he couldn't fulfill. None of it was his fault, so he couldn't apologize.
Wait, he could apologize.
"Sorry I couldn't cure her," Knight started, fidgeting with his hands as he gauged her reaction. A look of surprise appeared on her face before it was smoothed down to neutral; it wasn't negative, so that was a start. "Maybe if I—"
"No, no, it's fine." Holiday composed herself, shoulders straightening from the disheartened slouch she sported before. "We need to figure out if the problem is on your end or not."
"You're—" Knight stopped, realizing that pointing out she was changing the topic to keep her mind off the E.V.O. would most likely end badly for him, "— right."
"Head back to the lab. I'll notify Dr. Fell."
A grimace appeared on Knight's face; he forgot Dr. Fell would be the one running the tests in place of Six. Shouldn't have agreed.
Knight stretched out his arms to test their strength; nothing broken, nothing bruised, a small positive considering the ordeal he just went through. He was fairly certain he could find his way out of the Hole – it was a straight line from the entrance to Holiday's sister's cage.
It was embarrassing, having to be led around by the blueprints or Holiday – he didn't like knowing far less than everyone else. One day I'll memorize the layout, he promised as he finished inspecting his body and walked forwards –
An arm looped around his waist and Knight was thrown backwards onto the floor; the taser sparking over him gave a clear indication on who knocked him backwards.
Along with the fact Holiday was the only other sentient person there.
"What the hell was that for?"
"Quiet."
Knight opened his mouth.
Something skittered across the floor of the Hole, close enough that he could hear bird-like shrieks and the individual legs clattering across tile.
Soon afterwards, the noises were cut short. Growling and liquid dripping replaced it.
The Hole usually houses E.V.O.s too dangerous to roam freely in the Petting Zoo, Holiday's earlier words echoed in his mind.
Knight closed his mouth.
Without a word, Holiday reached out to the cage door, hand grasped around the mechanism to pull it shut.
"Wait, what are you doing?" Knight was careful to keep his voice hushed
"Closing the door to lock everything out, what does it look like I'm doing?"
"What?"
"Don't be worried about being locked in here, you're the one that can command technology. Or have you lost that power, too?" The statement was a simple question that held no spite, but it stung like acid in a new wound all the same. "Now be quiet and stay quiet."
Ignoring it, he pushed himself up and stepped towards Holiday; she whipped her head around with an expression that screamed 'what did I just say?'.
"You have a tranquilizer gun, a taser, and years of Providence training. We don't need to trap ourselves in here."
In a move that contrasted with Holiday's earlier, steady movements, she wrenched the door shut. Knight flinched; from the sound, he told himself, not from the waves of intimidation coming from Holiday.
"We can't just leave her." Holiday was disbelieving, shoulders raising and gaze flickering everywhere except for Knight. Her voice was still a whisper, strained and hissed through her teeth. She took one step towards him; seems like she wanted Knight to stay behind whether he wanted to or not. "She'll be ripped to pieces!"
"We'll be ripped to pieces if we stay!" Knight took another step in the direction of the cage door, keeping his stance wide in case a fight broke out; not that his fists would do well against a taser and a tranquilizer, but he counted on his nanites to at least give him a chance. "We cut out losses and make a tactical retreat."
"'Losses' – since when did you start giving orders?"
"Since you started making bad plans!"
That stopped Holiday in her tracks. Even her expression froze, cold eyes staring right at Knight and lips pressed into a thin line. The Providence-issued taser shook in her tight grip, the only indication of her fury.
"Go ahead then. Run." There wasn't a hint of emotion in her voice, icy calm settling into the gap where her anger once showed. "I'm sure you'll do fine with no weapons, alone, and absolutely nobody that would lift a finger to help you."
It was Knight who went rigid this time, mind grinding to a halt as her words echoed inside his head. He wanted to say to himself that the jab didn't hurt him, that he was perfectly fine on his own, that he was stopping just to revaluate his decisions and not because Holiday was bringing up his worst emotions.
Instead, he drew his lips up in a facsimile of a snarl, annoyance with Agent Holiday masking any weakness. Holiday would do fine on her own; she'd need to stay for longer than normal for the grunts to open the cage in place of Knight, but Knight on his own…
"Fine."
A small smile appeared on Holiday, anything but sweet. "We'll follow proper hold and secure protocols then, H-1. It's probably something small, like a few E.V.O.s that have wandered into the Hole. Did we close the vault on our way in–"
Red danced in Knight's vision.
The world filled with the sounds of sirens shrieking, alarms blaring —
Something inhuman crashing against the cage door —
[And from a past forgotten by one;
This cage will not become my grave.
I believe we can strike a deal, then.]
A calm, synthetic voice pierced through the unending chaos that made Knight collapse to his knees —
Multiple containment breaches located in the Petting Zoo. Sectors A-1 to Z-10 are compromised.
The Hole is compromised.
Initiating lockdown procedure.
