Fragmented Echoes. Chapter 1: Undeground Hell

Act 3: Promised Land.Part 3: Last hours of peace

The squeal of the wheels wakes me up. How many times have I been knocked out in the head? And now I'm in the train. Again. The lights are out, nothing in the darkness, nothing but a black sun that will drag me back to cruel reality soon enough. First time that was unusual. Now - it's getting old. Why does my the subconscious see the train as something safe and the black sun as a fictional reminder that I won't see a sunrise anymore, that I won't fill my dusty old lungs with clean air as I'll die the moment I step out? The world above is dead... no. I came from above. I lived there.

Someone turn on a single lamp above me and sat opposite me. It's me - an octoling me. Pretty fucked up if I can do so myself. His torso is bare. A backpack with scraps of clothing rests on his shoulders. One eye is closed and covered with sanitised ink. The rest of his face is exhausted. He sighs and closes his eyes for a second, talking to me with the voice of Agent Asshole.

"How're you holding up?"

I look aside, not willing to answer. The other me nod in understanding:

"Pain all over the body. Lack of sleep and food... physical and mental abuse. That's not what you signed up for twenty years ago, am I right?"

I lean back for a more comfortable position before replying.

"I never asked for this. But here we are. And you. You never told me what you are."

He smiles, speaking in a lower tone.

"Not who, but what now, huh? The sound of progress, my friend. Heh, jokes aside. I'm a hero with no name for the people above. But for the people below... I'm their end. I'm the bad guy."

"And then you're gonna say that you are some kind of flawed god or The Man Behind The Wall himself. Hmh. Sure. You could just said 'none of your business' and spare me your lies."

He shrugs in response.

"Well, if you are not interested in the future.... Let's talk about what's going on now. The things that V2 son of a bitch said when he was playing with you."

I wave my hand.

"Meh. Just a bunch of bullshit...."

"You sure? He told the truth about one thing - we all came from above."

"The surface is dead, mate. Dead as fuck. There is nothing above but radiation, deserts and burned ground. I may look like a hentai mod, but this is not a game or some kind of dream. We all saw the satellite imagery, failed to contact anyone. Even the Mothership and space colonies went silent! Don't you think it's strange that in just a couple of hours ALL OF HUMANITY decided to die in a nuclear war? But we survived... with no ability to reproduce. There is something fishy behind all this. But back to topic - I don't think things can change in twenty to thirty years."

"But what about twelve thousand years? One can't live that long. No one in history lived for that thousands years, Rick. Face it - humanity died over twelve thousand years ago. You just forgot that little fact, don't you? There are only bones and ruins. Humanity is dead. Long live humanity 2.0. Fresh from the ocean! Food became a sentient predator...or just a dominant life force on the planet. As for your "fishy humanity business"- something tells me your Man Behind The Wall is involved in this. But that was a really long time ago, and this is story about you, not him..."

Hm. I've seen many shocking and twisted things in recent days. Stuff and creatures that can't possibly be real. I cheated death countless times, rode on rails of ink, in a struggle to determine if this is all real or just a game... I've done things beyond my wildest imagination. But this... somehow it doesn't sound like something new or ground shaking. More like a reminder of a history lesson in school. Yet it doesn't sound right.