Fragmented Echoes. Chapter 1: Undeground Hell

Act 3: Promised Land.Final part: The masquerade of lies

So, this is it huh? A small, clear station with only one way to go. An empty corridor with disabled security clearance checkpoint. The cameras are still working - they turn to me as I pass. Tartar is watching, but he keeps his his digital mouth shut. The pain in my head rising like a bloody rebel, and now it's making my nose erupt - annoying and distracting as always. I slow my movement, touching my forehead - it's hot. I think my body having a bad time thanks to my recent "lifestyle changes" such as sleep disturbance and repeated dearth. Hey, me, just don't start to rave or hallucinate, for fuck's sake, 'cause I need to think straight right now.

I remember this place and my meeting with the most hated man in the underground - Professor himself. I start to hear our voices moving through the corridor like echoes - echoes of my past...

"Professor himself... right. People thought that you were long dead and there was some kind of AI using your voice and images to slowly kill us. What could have possibly happened if you called me at that time in a different sector?"

Yeah, that's a strange version of my own voice. Older, meaner, lower, a bit hoarser - and a lot more careful in his word choice. I was talking with a tyrant that forced me to kill against my own will, damn it! And I can't do anything with it, since he has control and all the power in the facility. He ain't stupid, either - got defense systems everywhere. What can one man do?

"Sorry for calling you at such late hour, young man, but there is no time to lose. The situation require your presence."

On the other hand, the voice of Professor hasn't changed at all from what I remember. A bit slow, with an accent. Maybe it's French or... whatever.

"I'm far from young, and what kind of situation are we talking about? I'm not a miracle worker and I need my crew for anything big."

"I'll tell you everything on the way. Now follow me, please."

Wish I could punch the bastard. Sigh. I can't remember what else he told me back there. The flashbacks go quiet as I proceed forward. I wish I never met this old man. Grey hair, wrinkled face, legs replaced with prosthetics - still had to use a cane to walk due to spine trauma.

This crazy tyrant with all the power in the complex, determined to put his life and soul into something that could make humanity a bit better. Which includes killing people so others can last longer, forcing people to work all the time, and keeping said workers in control. Extreme solutions for extreme life situations . I'm not trying to justify anything he did. I just... I just can't blame him for trying and failing. But I do blame him for making us kill our own friends and acting like a justified god!

I'm distracting myself with my own thoughts. Back to now. The corridor led me into a concrete spiral staircase into the lower levels. There is an cargo elevator in the center. The doors open up and I walk in. I remember we used it to descend into - ugh, my vision is blurring as my headache rise. Fuuck... oh. I misclick and the door closes.

The lift slowly begins moving down to the wrong level. I lean against the wall of the elevator. The speakers on the edges come to life and spill a synthetic voice, but it's like white noise to me. Instead, I hear memories, voices in my head. A snatch of Professor's dialogue slices the silence apart.

"...You can't do that."

"Can't do that my... sitting point! What you do think I was doing for the last two decades? Working as a slave and killing my own friends because you were threatening to kill a man the moment he did something "wrong"! You rule as a tyrant and think I won't take my chance to avenge those who I actually respect?"

I remember the look on his face. Like a man in the middle of a war, watching the horror around him, the blood of the innocent on his hands and understanding, what life has turned him into. He sighs.