Countdown from Three

~Chapter 8~ My only regret (unfinished)

For my beloved Twin, who becomes an adult today.

Unfinished; the rest of this chapter will be updated as chapter 8.5 and merged with this part later.

~~

When Arcthorn woke again, he found himself again in the same metal chair, restricted by a tangle of heavy chains. The surroundings were different; the abysmal darkness was traded for blinding light. His eyes, being accustomed to darkness, took a moment to adjust before he could survey the room – yet the longer he spent to make sense of his own situation, the further his heart sank.

There were no windows; the doors and the walls were immovable, designed and constructed to be able to withstand the power of a nuclear explosion, he estimated. Around him there was a ring of nothingness; anything that could be useful to him were out of reach – no, out of sight. The gadgets he’d brought with him were confiscated long ago. He could not name anything in the room that would be of use to him.

Yet something was out of place. At the base of the walls encompassing this oddly-shaped room – half round, half angular – a trail of black tape messily stretched across its perimeter, forming a stark contrast against the immaculate, professional designs observed throughout the establishment. He scoured the space for more clues and caught a glimpse of a fluorescent display in the furthest corner.

9:45

Arcthorn ignored the premonition that began to surface in his mind. His fingers fumbled with the chains that braced his arms, less dexterous than he’d have liked – they were numb from the cold and fatigue. The chains must have rubbed a layer of skin from his wrists; he winced slightly as the cold metal first touched the wounds.

It was futile. The chains were wrought from a strong alloy, made neither malleable nor brittle for the strength of his hands. They were fixed into place in intervals onto the chair, interlocked with visible hooks; the designed reinforced the endurance of his constraint.

He would not forsake hope – not yet. He had no right to give up; for the sake of the billions of lives on this planet that were tied to the fate of his mission, he had no right to give up. As is inspected his surroundings again, an array of blinking lights answered his gaze. He recognized them at once – surveillance equipment. Someone was likely gazing through the miniature cameras installed in this room, admiring his fruitless struggles to liberate himself.

Of course they were confident of his despair. Why else would they leave him awake, conscious, and give him the advantage of illumination? The Armoury had made only one mistake – that was when his intrusion caught it by surprise. Since then they had been cautious to corner him, trap him, sealed his every opportunity to escape, and even –

Professor Curtis had even planned to ensnare Azure.

Arcthorn shut his eyes tightly and inhaled, feeling the cold metal chains tighten against his chest. They were no match for the suffocating pain that weighed on his heart.

He trusted his intuition. Professor Curtis would be the one watching him right now, daring him to challenge t his inevitable fate and, ensuring it was impossible, revel at his suffering. That was his revenge.

“Envy had forgiven you,” the professor’s final words echoed in his head, fused with malice and bitterness, “but I have not. The matter of deceit between friends may be over, but the political consequences of your offences cannot be overlooked. As the intruder of one of the Military Bases, I cannot eliminate the possibility that you're a spy. By our law, any intruder is punishable by death. Worry not – I have promised Envy to give you what you wish, and I will."

All of a sudden, he understood. He was in a rocket, one that was more powerful than any rocket created at the peak of the era before the Redemption. He was marooned in its hollowed body; the control room was outside somewhere in the Armoury, piloted remotely. This chamber was not designed to carry human beings and bring them back alive.

6:25

The display was for the detonators hidden behind the tape. His promised gift had to be attached to the – atomic bombs, lining every edge of this room but the doors, whose masses must be measured using the unit kilotonnes.

He could see it now, the timer ticking down to the end of his existence. It started with ten minutes, but now there was only five left. Once the ticking seconds reached zero, all the atomic bombs would detonate simultaneously. Their combined power would ensure that there wouldn't even be ashes left of him.

I’m indebted to Envy, not her father. Closing his fist, Arcthorn resolved to not allow Professor Curtis the satisfaction of witnessing his misery.

He was stranded.

The cogs and gears beneath his feet churned ceaselessly. He wondered if any of the employees of the Armoury ever developed a phobia of the sight; what if the glass was to crumble underfoot and swallow them whole?

He caught himself slipping from the resolution to remain unfazed.

A million thoughts came and gone. There was nothing to be done, but wait. Nothing but hoping it would end fast. Five minutes later, the name Arcthorn would be permanently erased from Earth. Failure of the mission aside, did he have any regrets? Not really. He’d had a blissful childhood. He respected his parents, who adored him in return. He’d inherited his curiosity and assiduousness from his father, his hero and mentor. He had the reverence and admiration of his peers, mounted heights others could not even dream of, fulfilled goal after goal on his hierarchy of ambitions.

Yet he’d left one broken promise… to her. He’d never made it aloud, but in his heart, he’d always promised to bring her back home.

At least she would return to Empyrean, even without him. She would live till the end of the world, and he would be waiting for her in the place that follows death, counting down to the moment of their reunion.