Author's Note:
Four years ago I wrote a short series of fanfiction under the name of Falsefort, with Self Awareness being the introduction to the series. Unfortunately due to personal problems at the time and general laziness / losing all of my motivation for the project, I ended up abandoning it with a half-baked, unsatisfying ending that didn't really answer much. This 'Redux' version of Falsefort aims to improve upon the original, and realize the intentions I had for the story.
...
It all began so long ago; a tale between two bands of mercenaries fighting in the middle of nowhere for handfuls of gravel. Some would call it senseless, blood shed everywhere for no profit. Others, including the mercenaries that fought in the Mann family's conflicts, begged to differ. Many of them had nowhere else to go considering their background, while others were there simply for the 'fun' of it. Though, no matter who or what you were, there was one trait that was shared amongst all of them.
You didn't ask any questions. Every day, you just went out and fought, and life would be as simple as that.
However... Would any of them consider such a life worth living, infinitely repeating the same battles over and over for no cause?
A sigh preceded a voice, "They wouldn't be able to answer you now."
...
Teufort had been quiet as the dead, the moon slowly gliding through the sky and trapping the base in an eternal twilight, scattering the skies in deep blues and purples, stars dotting lines throughout the cosmos to add onto the scene, as though the heavens had decided to grace the cut-throat mercenaries with a sight ripped straight from paintings. Some knew of the apparent impossibilities that made Teufort's eternal twilight seem anomalous, but none cared enough to think about it too hard; they weren't paid to sit around and worry about why the sky wasn't working correctly. During the day, however, Teufort was as alive as ever; filled with battle cries, screaming and gunfire as both RED and BLU locked themselves in fights to steal one another's intelligence - in the form of precious information within a briefcase that always seemed to be just resting on a table instead of an actual vault or behind any 'protection'.
But... During the night, both teams had unanimously decided that people need their beauty sleep, but that didn't stop either team from setting up patrols and the occasional scouting party to probe at the enemy's defenses in hopes that they could pull off a successful heist while the other wasn't looking, usually led by the ever-militant soldiers of both sides, much to the dismay of whoever was unlucky enough to be bullied into one of these scouting parties.
BLU's Engineer on the other hand, had actually savored the idea of nightly patrols; whoever was up the most during a patrol or guard duty usually got a few extra hours of shuteye. Everything had been going just peachy for him, having recently modified his dispenser's blueprints to include a radio to be built-in, allowing him to listen to music or generally whatever was on the radio at the time. This, of course, was a massive help for him; especially since he was stationed in the sewers, having to put up with the stench of unidentifiable waste and the odd, yet distinct smell of old electrical fires. Normally, he considered such a place (literally) below him, but he had his reasons to avoid his team.
He hated being in his team's bunks - it was unbearable to be up there, and he could never catch a rest. He paced back and forth, waving his finger with each person as he complained in his mind; he hated Heavy's loud snoring, Scout's... disturbing sleep talk, Soldier's 'surprise pep-talks' that were really just rants about the team's apparent laziness for needing to sleep every once in a while and finally, the Spy. There was something off about him, yet Engineer could never put his finger on it.
Every night, he would see that numb, dead expression on his face, writhe with thoughts that made his eyes glaze over with a certain cloudiness to them, almost unblinking while he simply stared on at whatever was in front of him, usually one of the walls, or the Engineer himself if his eyes dare made contact, but he never seemed to be looking or focusing on whatever he was peering at, as though his body had desynchronized with his mind, lost within himself.
Engineer had never seen him rest during the night, only ever having lent against the same wall near the shutter doors at the end of spawn with a cigar which anomalously always seemed to retain its freshness, never burning out no matter how long he kept it lit. Just thinking of his ally made him shudder, the Engineer had seen him as some kind of monster rather than a coworker - not helped at all by how he always seemed so alien when he talked, which he rarely did. Whenever someone was ever 'lucky' to get him to say something, anything, it never seemed to make any sense. He was a cryptic bastard, his words tinged with bitterness and something sinister, an unsolvable riddle to which he would only ever express disappointment at any reply he's ever gotten.
Sighing, the Engineer calmed himself, relaxing his posture as he began to listen intently to the rhythm crackling from his dispenser as the song he was listening to had synchronized its tempo with the repetitious beeping of his sentry, making it almost seem as though his sentry had joined in on the song - a faint smile escaping him from the idea... Maybe he should write that down for later. With such a groove coming on, he would have danced on the spot if it weren't for the fact that he was so sapped of energy. Putting a note in the back of his mind, he closed his eyes and hoped he would remember to write down some blueprints of a coffee machine later on.
Suddenly, Engineer's groovy night was harshly interrupted as the sound of the song was replaced quickly by the piercing noise of static - his eyes shooting open partly from surprise, while the rest of the reason being in his rage. "Aw, come on!" He hissed, briefly shielding his eyes from the explosion of his sentry and dispenser - Red team's Spy striking a confident pose in the lingering smoke, a cocky laugh echoing through the sewers emanating from the Frenchman himself. Fortunately for the Engineer, encountering the enemy's Spy was nowhere near as awkward; Red's Spy was 'ordinary', being just as arrogant as any other.
"What's the matter?" Replied the Spy as he readied his knife, flipping it around in his hand with the blade itself glowing a soft amber from the sodium light above them, "Someone interrupt your little dance party?"
"Dont'cha ask pointless questions?" Engineer added in-turn, swinging his wrench toward the spy, his wrist snapping forward in a practiced, instinctual mechanical motion just before the point of contact, only to harmlessly whiz past the air between the two, Spy letting out a short chuckle as he swiftly threw his body backward, dodging with a grace that made him seem to slide across the ground as if it were ice, "Why can't you just leave me be? Is there any reason why a rat like you comes to a sew-" He cut himself off, a smirk crossing his face, "... Ah."
Rolling his eyes, the Spy swung his knife toward the Engineer - the tip of the blade connecting and drawing a line of blood across his cheek, "Oh, please. You're giving me too much credit," though he would always appreciate any and all credit he got, "I just find this entertaining. You always seem so distraught when your little toys are broke-" Before he finished his sentence, the wind was knocked out of him from the Engineer's wrench striking him square in the gut, forcing a pained groan.
His knife flew from his hand and onto the floor, causing the Engineer to laugh at his state of disarm, resting his wrench on his own shoulder. Mere seconds later, the Spy finished reeling from the attack, whipping out the revolver from his pocket and firing at the Engineer, the bullet ripping straight through his shoulder and causing his hands to suddenly flinch open - forcing him to drop the wrench. Spy's face was flush with rage, utterly insulted that the Engineer managed to 'somehow' get a hit on him, and began hurling insults and mockery at the man.
During this, the Engineer looked down at the floor and saw that the Spy's knife was closer to him and easier to reach than his wrench, which would've likely been a death sentence to pick up considering that his injured arm wouldn't make managing its weight easy. He had never considered using a weapon from another person against them before, especially not one from another 'class', as his instincts had always warned him it was a horrendously bad idea, even if it was an arguably better weapon.
Engineer had always followed these instincts without question, but if he were able to grab the knife, he would be able to fight back. After all, he had kept his shotgun and pistol dangerously far away on a nearby Rancho Relaxo thanks to the fact that he didn't even think he would need it tonight, but here he was. If he didn't do anything, he would have his face blown off, but if he picked up that knife, he would be violating some of his core beliefs. For the first time in forever, Engineer had truly been stuck on a decision; his mind at war with his gut.
Despite him mentally yelling at himself to pick up the knife, his arm didn't move a single inch, but instead shook in place as if there were some kind of barrier - a physical object he needed to push himself through. His entire body was repelling him from doing so, yet he kept pressing on, forcing himself to act even if the universe itself disagreed with his actions. Punching through that barrier, Engineer's arm went strangely numb, losing all feeling despite retaining perfect control as he reached down and touched the knife with the intent of picking it up...
That would be, if he didn't let out a scream of agonizing pain from his attempt to do so - being so sudden and so unexpected, that even the enemy Spy let out a startled gasp, his body jolting and his finger squeezing down on the trigger without the intent to do so, firing and missing wildly off-target. Spy attempted to tell the Engineer to shut up, yet he just kept screaming as he continued his attempt to pick up the knife, every vessel in his body screaming at him in such a manner that suggested he was touching the very sun itself, but in a sheer moment of willpower he managed to pick it up.
"What?-" The Spy stammered over such a sight, turning around to flee, but in his moment of fear - he had forgotten what his class specialized in.
Like teeth of a rabid animal, he felt the blade of his own knife sink deep into his back, hitting the spine and piercing straight through it; killing him instantly, marked by only a short scream which was ultimately drowned out by the Engineer's own.
With the conclusion of their duel, Engineer quickly placed the knife back in his pocket, before collapsing to the ground and clasping his other hand around the arm that had been experiencing so much pain; feeling as though it was burning off as though he had stuck it through lava, and only now had just pulled it out. In fact, the sensation was so intense that he felt himself blacking out, his vision blackening with every passing second, yelling out profanities and questions to the open air, "What the hell is happening?" He cried, to no answer.
His vision went completely black, but he was still conscious. In the few moments he couldn't see anything, he felt a presence, something standing in his vicinity, yet he couldn't muster the energy to ask who it was - ready to accept death if it were coming. Though, when he had regained his vision, the pain subsided. Spy's corpse and weapons were gone with the exclusion of his knife, which was kept firmly in his pocket. Reluctantly, the Engineer stood back up, dusting himself off.
As much as he wanted to forget about this, he couldn't stop himself from noticing the fact that Spy's corpse had disappeared completely, alongside his blood and weapons with the exclusion of his knife; which remained firmly in his pocket. Nothing about this was 'normal' to him. A corpse would normally stay after a battle was over, that was until the clean-up crew would come along and dispose of whatever was left behind, but it all just simply vanished as if nothing even happened.
"Engineer!" Yelled a familiar, German voice, as his team's medic came rushing down the stairs at the end of the sewer, Medi-gun already out as if he had already anticipated some kind of battle. This came as no surprise to the Engineer considering what just happened, but there was something off about the Medic now. His movement was strange, stiff, even, yet still very 'animate'. Yet, the most concerning thing to the Engineer was the fact that the Medic lacked any expression at all despite the apparent concern in his tone, and how his Medi-gun remained completely level, lacking any natural bobbing and shaking that would come from sprinting.
"Engineer?" He would repeat himself as he neared, halting in a manner that was almost instant. As the Medic spoke, a sudden burst of expression; concern, washed across his face, yet faded quickly once he stopped, returning to a blank slate with cold, unblinking eyes.
"Uh..." Engineer was too taken aback, weirded out by the interaction to properly reply, only able to stare back. Medic had stood there, motionless. Arms, legs, head? All unmoving outside of his chest, which only raised and lowered from his breathing.
"Are you alright?"
He found himself reluctant to respond, placing one hand around the back of his head and scratching nervously at the back of his neck, having to convince himself that his mind was playing tricks on him. While some part of him wanted to ask, 'are you?', he decided that it was better off to not question it. Everybody was strange on the battlements one way or another, and the Medic was no exception, so he had to just tell himself that this, whatever 'this' was, is normal, "Err, yeah. I'm fine, 'doc... At least I think I am." Affirming with a shaky hint to his voice, he tried to forget and pretend that the whole 'knife incident' didn't even happen, "I just had to put down a rat that tried getting the jump on me."
After a few moments of silence, the Medic merely nodded in understanding, the Engineer having to force himself to ignore the fact that his arms moved to rotate the medi-gun up and down to match the orientation of his head, before beginning to heal the Engineer's light wounds. In most cases, the relaxing blue beam would reinvigorate him, make him feel like some kind of god, yet he didn't feel that anymore. Something about what had gone down in his fight with the Spy had ruined that mentality for him, making him feel as though his soul had been dirtied by something he should not have witnessed.
Without exchanging any more words, the Medic simply turned around and began to sprint all the way back down the sewer tunnel, leaving up through the staircase, swift in his step. Engineer cursed under his breath, knowing he should've asked why his arm experienced such agonizing pain when he went to go pick up that knife, but he just felt as though it was a bad idea to even bring that up to anybody, especially because there was something weird going on now.
For now, his endless questions and concerns were replaced by a simple reminder that he was still carrying enemy weapons, and that he should probably start setting his defenses back up in case that Spy had the nerve to try to reclaim his stolen knife. Engineer pulled out the PDA from his pocket, navigating through the screens to select his dispenser to view the machine's schematics, yet instead of showing him how to build it, he would instead witness as the PDA suddenly vanished from his hands, his body briefly feeling 'disconnected' as his arms suddenly moved to accommodate the fact that he was now carrying his toolbox in them, almost intrinsically knowing that was going to happen.
Confused, and quite frankly tired of all of this, he placed the toolbox down on the ground, which caused it to begin unfolding itself, the contents slowly expanding and rising to show that his dispenser had built itself, all without a single bit of effort required from his behalf. Now he was really, really concerned. He wasn't going to question the fact how it didn't seem physically possible, but he was going to call out how this definitely was not how his buildings were meant to act - at all, in fact. Before, he used to build them by hand, and now, somehow, over the course of one fight, it is upgraded to do that itself?
No, no! He knew his tech. This wasn't how any of this worked. It shouldn't have been doing that, at least not without some assistance, and all he could do is look on at it, bewildered by the sight of the self-building dispenser, watching as it even automatically turned itself on. Panicking, the Engineer took out his PDA again with the intent of building a sentry, but he would find that it happened again.
He couldn't move his finger to press down on the button.
A voice spoke to him, distant, yet familiar, "You do not have enough metal." Rung faintly through his mind, a voice that wasn't his own, nor one of his colleagues. It was monotonous, lacking depth or anything that could be considered 'human', yet still it seemed so familiar to him even if he knew nobody that talked in such a strange manner.
And yet, an idea crossed his mind. What if he could push his limits, just as he did with the knife? He forced his hand forward, yielding the same results; his arm going numb before both would begin to flare in pain as he clicked the button. The PDA vanished once again, but the toolbox was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he felt that same disconnect in his arms as they suddenly appeared in that same holding position from earlier, pretending it was there as if he was some kind of mime. He didn't even register that his hands had moved, nor did he feel them move - or even see it happen, everything moving so fast that he couldn't even begin to comprehend any of it.
Now? He was scared. Now was the time to talk to somebody, anybody, even if they wouldn't be able to wrap their heads around whatever nightmare this was. Glancing over at his dispenser, Engineer's nerves stood on end, before he just ran for the staircase at the end of the sewers, leaving his weapons and buildings behind. He ran up the staircase and out of the sewers, finding himself in the lower sections of his base as he began to pant - having to stop for a couple of moments and place his hands on his knees to catch his breath, beginning to wonder how the Medic had so much stamina from sprinting all the way down to the sewers. Eventually, he managed to drag himself back up to the spawn room, where he hoped to find his team's bunks at the end of it.
However... He couldn't have ever prepared himself for what he saw.
There were no bunks at all; the spawn room had become much smaller, with only a small enclosure behind a glass door at the end of it. Every single member of his team stood in that enclosure, equidistant from each other and facing forward, all of them sharing that similar, stiff pose like the Medic did back in the sewers, holding their primary weapons and standing completely motionless, no expression on their faces - the only difference between them and the Medic from earlier being that their eyes were now closed, and this time?
They weren't breathing.
He thought they were mannequins, but what he saw was clearly his team. The spawn room was dark, the only source of light being the creeping hues of blue that stretched through the windows, plunging the front half of his allies into darkness and leaving only their outline. But despite the apparent unease, he moved closer, only to be blocked by the glass doors as they refused to open for him, even if he tried slotting his hands through the handles and pulling them open. Still, he was mortified to see his teammates standing neither dead or alive before him, held behind these glass doors as though they were on display in a museum.
Again, he turned around and fled, unable to handle the sight. Tonight, he would find somewhere else to sleep; one of the hay piles just outside of spawn would manage - for his exhausted body didn't care for comfort right now. Engineer collapsed onto the pile, trying to quickly drift off to sleep in hopes that he would wake up to find that this was just some sort of nightmare to him, and that he would wake back up in a state where everything was back the way it was.