More Than Imagined

Chapter 8

They rolled it in on a platform lined with compact, electric steel—barring it from interacting with the world outside the cage. When Rhoawyn got a good look at it, she knew it had to be a Mare, and immediately shrunk back into her seat. Its body was a mass of kaleidoscopic scales most comparable to fish, but the straight of its limbs and the curve of its eyes were like that of any other ordinary human's.

Rhoawyn stole a glance at Eli, wondering if he was just as surprised to see a Mare inside the base. But what she found was a face colored with indifference. Must be an everyday thing for him.

"Isn't it dangerous to bring one of those things in here?" she whispered close enough to Eli's ear to avoid being shushed by the people around her.

"That's what the cage is for." Before Rhoawyn could snark him back, the Techromancer addressed the group.

"Welcome Initiates," the woman greeted, pinching the collar of her coat and making her voice resonate throughout the room. "I understand that you must have many questions about your current circumstance, and certainly about this beast that sits among us." She extended a hand in front of the cage, showing it off like one would an animal in a circus. It huddled into itself at the sound of the word 'beast', clearly associating it with some form of brutality with how it recoiled.

Not as many questions as you think. But Rhoawyn could only assume the chance encounter with Paraly was unique to her, and most everyone in this hall had never been exposed to the likes of Mares before.

"I regret to inform you that this is not the only one of its kind," she continued, "there are more of them. They wear many faces, some even identical to our own." Astonishment carried through the crowd.

"They are creatures from beyond the walls of which you were born. Beings molded by the cruel hand of the plague that still ravages portions of the Fringe we are currently centered in."

The crowd didn't take that bit of information too well, still thinking they were in the safety of the dome. Rhoawyn recognized the panicked murmurs and gasps that erupted. They reminded her of the terror she felt facing the Fringe's diseased landscape.

They all have a right to be angry. To be shocked. To feel tricked.

The entire purpose of the dome—The Apex—was to protect them from the infectious environment lurking on the other side. To save them from premature mortality. To keep their people thriving. And when the time came, they had been assured a quick, painless end. Now they sat in the very Fringe The Apex had taught them to fear their entire lives. No protection. No Departure.

"We have affectionately named them Nightmares, or Mares for short, as they are turning out to be more and more of a horror with every new thing we learn about them," the Techromancer strained her arm to grab a remote from the podium.

"We have discovered that these walls which have stood for centuries as our shield are slowly being breached," she continued, the venom in her voice enough to seize anyone's attention.

"These beings mean to infiltrate us. Displace us. Destroy our way of life. And unfortunately, they have been given an upper hand, genetically speaking." She tapped the remote and the electric bars of the cage whirred.

The Mare—struck by the shocks of electrical current—sprang to life in a vibrant glow. It secreted a water-like substance from the lifts of its scales and molded a barrier around the perimeter of its body. Rhoawyn had to admit, there is something beautiful, more acceptable, about this Mare compared to Paraly.

"Do not be fooled by the brilliance of this creature. It is exactly this brilliance that will be the end of us if we do not eradicate it."

"Seems a bit far-fetched if you ask me," a voice spoke next to Rhoawyn. She glanced over to find the source and was met with piercing blue eyes, and hair straighter than straw—silkier too—falling like a shroud onto the olive skin of her arms.

Before that day's events, Rhoawyn might have agreed with her. They were immortal, after all. At least, until they had to Depart. It's what they had always been taught. Departure was the only way out. It was sacred—necessary, so they should be happy to go when called.

But after seeing Paraly's otherworldly might, and how easily Eli replicated it, Rhoawyn was not so sure what to believe. But she didn't say as much to the girl next to her, not wanting to sway her trust in The Apex that had always protected them. An excuse to keep clinging to her own belief in them.

"It is a little hard to wrap your head around," Rhoawyn mumbled in agreement, low enough to play it off as talking to herself in case she'd inserted herself into a conversation she wasn't actually invited to.

"Right? If they were really as dangerous as she says, how were they able to capture one?" the girl questioned, cracking her knuckles one by one. Rhoawyn remembered Eli's cards. You'd be surprised.

"I'm Luci, by the way," she said, extending her hand.

"Rhoawyn." They had enough time for a single shake before the Techromancer spoke again.

"This one may seem harmless, but there are others. Others with abilities that can wipe out whole Sites in one fell swoop," the Techromancer said, illustrating the magnitude of the situation with her hands.

Luci penned something on the stretch of her arm. Rhoawyn's brows creased at the peculiar sight.

"What? You never know when this could come in handy," Luci said, shrugging. Rhoawyn expected to find her writing words the Techromancer said, but it surprised her to find a well-drawn sketch of the Mare. Rhoawyn had never known others besides herself and her mother with drawing abilities.

"For this reason, our Techromancers have formed you into the perfect counter-move—into Imaginaries—those who walk the line between life and Departure, and can utilize the powerful energies that lie in that balance."

It was a lot to accept, even for Rhoawyn, who had a bit of insight into the world of Techromancy through her father. He never shared the ins and outs of his work, but he would always say how beautiful he thought Techromancy was. To him, it was a thing of art—not the stuff of paint and picture—but the kind that manipulated millions of strands of DNA until they morphed into a masterpiece. Into something new and more useful.

Being presented with this information, knowing that she had been recreated—reimagined, made her curious about her father. About his work.

"Now," the Techromancer continued, "you may be Imaginaries in title, but not quite yet in practice. There is still one more process to complete before we convert you into your new selves. Upon dismissal, we will assign you a date to complete the final transformation into Imaginaries per your captain's choosing."

Rhoawyn looked over at Eli and found him stretching the boredom of the assembly from his limbs.

"Hope you like being first," he yawned. Of course, he'd choose to be first.

The Techromancers cleared the caged Mares from the room.

"The future of The Apex as we know it depends on you."