Chapter Five

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Lucy's eyes fluttered open, revealing an operating room with lighting that had been dimmed by the emergency system. She couldn't tell much more than that due to the brain fog still plaguing her. A far-off feeling mental film reel playing the cyborg's rough capture and hauling of her tiny frame out of the dining hall was all she could rely on as a memory of how she arrived at her current location.

"Heh...hello?" she tried calling, her voice cracking in the attempt as she simultaneously began to sit up on the operating table she realized she'd been placed on. The sound of heavy metallic footsteps replied to her query, and her cyborg captor rushed to her side. It quickly took hold of her arms, clamping them into cuffs on the table's sides, then repeated the procedure with her legs.

The sudden restriction provoked her feelings of fear and desperation to tears, and salty drops began raining from her eyes. In an unexpected turn, the cyborg brought its hand to her face, placing two nonmetallic fingers gently over her lips. The gesture calmed her immediately, her emotional state clinging to the first kind act she'd experienced in what felt like forever.

Next, the cyborg softly prepared her arm for a procedure, then injected her with three solutions before beginning an IV transfer of a cloudy white substance. Barely a moment passed before her mind cleared, her stomach settling shortly after. The pouch drained quickly, and Lucy found herself full of energy and a vitality she'd not known herself capable of possessing; however, now able to speak, she didn't know what to say. Luckily, she didn't have to know.

The engine noises of the earlier ship were crickets compared to the sounds that suddenly demanded their attention. The room's contents shook, knocking several items to the ground. The Ministry ship, Lucy thought.


The kicking at the door wasn't quite audible, but it was forceful enough to cause Lucy's ears to pick up the vibration from its presence. The cyborg also processed the sound, turning quickly to confront the trespass. After only a few additional kicks, the swinging hunk of tin posing as the door caved to the violence.

Everything that came next melted into a blur of rushed movement. Lucy could barely acknowledge every action throughout the sudden chaos, but the mess of hair and metal she followed eventually brought her to a large maintenance closet on the other side of the building.

She caught her breath, and when she was finally able to gather herself again, there were three pairs of eyes staring at her and the cyborg waiting for answers to questions that didn't need to be asked. 

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