Mechanical Gods (lgbtq+)

Chapter Thirty-Two: The Fifth Man

      He moved with the grace and the alacrity of the shadows.

     One would see him an extension of it. To him, it was the same as any machines that powered his body; A whisper that could command the wind.

     It was an old friend that should be welcomed, kissed, and taken into his arms like a long-lost lover;  Something that should be cared for and feared at the same time.

     He was the shadow.

     And the shadow became his name.

     Earlier, the humans tried to hack the system with the intention of getting the elevators working. The system shut him out before for a very aggressive countermeasure, where if the Shadow hesitated for even a moment, would no doubt cripple his hold of the entire facility.

     But Iago had more tricks up his sleeve, and the Shadow remained. Whatever Iago had done to the Android that controlled the facility, he was glad of it.

     The Shadow now set up a trap.

     The shadow allowed the system to be in their hands for only a minute. Now, the humans were within reach, trapped with him. 

     All primed for an excellent hunt.

     The shadow broke the glass casing propped up by the gloom of the long corridor, and he grasped the object within; it was a sharp fire ax.

     Gripping it tightly, he stalked the silent hallway, advancing with the intensity of a panther in search for prey. The shadow's gaze was sharp and alert. Any false move from anyone and he'd cave the ax on their flesh.

     It had to be quick.

     It had to be quiet.

     In the strange, throbbing sea of shimmering red lights illuminating the halls, the shadow detected voices from afar.

     At the same moment, a voice whispered at the base of his skull. It was a welcomed one, and familiar.

     "Kill them," it said. "Leave no survivors."

     The shadow gasped, filled with ecstasy and vigor. He wanted to kill them all. Death was a part of him like the shadow was, and the men in white ingrained it within him since the beginning of his existence. A smile grew at the side of his lips, turning into a seething grin. 

     Then, he paused for the first time.

     It was the strangest feeling like he had never experienced it before. No sight or sound entered his system for a brief second, and he found himself at a loss for what to do next. The shadow never lost his perception before. Emotions scarcely burned within him for they could pull him down into missteps and miscalculations, and would go against his mission.

     He thought of one thing:

     The boy.

     The voice inside him heard the thought, and it sighed.

     Was that disappointment he detected?

     Doubt?

     Or perhaps, a confusion?

     A part of him thought he made a mistake. A wrong one. He believed a grave reprimand would be due for such feelings.

     It was unlikely for the shadow to speak. He was a phantom of fewer words. The darkness spoke for him. And the voice inside his head knew it. It felt him hesitate; A mistake he wasn't going to make again, he told himself. Uncertainties gave opportunities to failures.