I turned the photo over and pushed it across the table. My finger lingered on the photograph for several seconds. I was unable to let it go. I'd done so once before; I'd let her go, and I'd always regretted my decision.
"This is bullshit. Liv has never even left South Carolina," I said. "How could she have anything to do with anything? She's a girl, not some space terrorist or eldritch cultist. I'm not going to let you turn me against my friends."
"Your loyalty is commendable, Mr. Finn," Sebbit said. "My own daughter speaks highly of you – a courtesy that even I rarely receive."
He picked up the metal canister, looking at it before setting it on the center of the table. I had no idea what it was. It was roughly the same size as a tube of tennis balls. If anything, the display and the odd protrusions made it look like a cliché sci-fi bomb from a Hollywood prop department.
The captain pressed down on the three protrusions and the canister split open down the center. A cold mist rose up from the canister obscuring anything that lied within. As the cloud dissipated a small round object was revealed.
"What's this?" I asked.
As I looked at the object I saw it twitch. It was a ball of black, leathery material riddled with veins and tumorous growths. Every few seconds it would pulse, releasing a thick stream of a familiar energy.
Not only did it seem alive, it was somehow creating eldritch energy.
"This object was retrieved from one of the cultists that ambushed my soldiers. What is most concerning, to me, is that its existence on this planet predates the eldritch event that predicated Hegemony intervention."
I simply sat there watching the beating heart. I could feel the thick streams of energy that poured out of it with each spasm. The energy was much thicker than anything I had ever felt. I had to force myself to stifle an instinctive urge to reach out and manipulate it.
Some deep part of my mind responded, desiring to consume the energy and make it part of ourselves. Myself.
The energy quickly filled the room, and I felt as if I was swimming in muck that clung to me and threatened to pull me deeper into it like quicksand. The grey paint on the walls began to peel and warp, as if time and entropy had been sped up.
I reached out towards the energy but pulled back in disgust.
It felt much more active and volatile than the reddish black energy I was used to working with. As it caressed my skin, trace amounts of the energy would seep into my pores, filling me with a sense of hatred for the living.
Whatever this heart belonged to had died terribly, and I could still feel it calling out for vengeance.
My arms and torso shook and sweat began to pour down my face.
My face paled, and I could feel the contents of my stomach beginning to rebel. I pushed the energy away, and Sebbit snapped shut the canister with a deafening bang that reverberated between the walls of the narrow concrete room.
The energy didn't immediately dissipate, instead lingering as a literal cloud of malaise.
I reached up to touch my face and ran my thumb across the stubble before placing my hand over my eyes. I couldn't get the emotions out of my head.
"Aah," I said, finally breaking free from the spell. "What the hell was that?"
"Hmm..." Sebbit vocalized. "As I said, this object was taken from a cultist. A human that murdered several highly trained Peacekeepers. I shouldn't have to tell you how difficult that should be for any citizen, let alone a tier four citizen armed with primitive weaponry."
"And why are you showing it to me?"
"I needed to see your reaction," said the computerized voice of Sebbit's translator. "It was interesting – you clearly had a very strong reaction, and yet your claims of ignorance are honest. You've either never seen a dungeon core before, or the memory has been... tampered with."
"And what does this have to do with Liv," I said. "Why did you show me... that," I pointed towards the photo that still sat on the table.
"Mr. Finn, please know that this gives me no pleasure. My only wish is to uphold the Accord and to protect every citizen of the Hegemony. I take my oaths very seriously, especially this one."
"Please, just tell me what is going on..."
"Very well, Mr. Finn. That photograph and this core," Sebbit said. His hand rested on the silver canister, and he pulled it slightly towards himself. His eyes narrowed, and he paused for several breaths before speaking.
"These items were recovered from a terrorist that was captured during an attack on my forward base. Nearly a dozen women under my command were slaughtered in an attempt to take one of the attackers alive. As you can see, their sacrifice was not in vain."
"It was incredibly important that we understood the abilities and motivations of our attackers. Each displayed power I have heard rumors of but had never witnesses for myself.
"Powers very similar to your own, Mr. Finn."
"Captured? Is she here... is she," I couldn't continue. I just stared at the expressionless face of the alien captain. I tried to convey my question through eye contact alone. I tried to will him to tell me if she was still alive.
I couldn't bring myself to say the words.
Sebbit watched me as I gasped helplessly. He denied me even the simple mercy of telling me what had happened, if she still lived.
He just stood and looked down on me once more before turning and silently exiting the room.
"Sebbit, answer me. Tell me what you want!" I banged on the table and the cheap metal legs bent and the table slid forward as it collapsed. I stood and flung my stool at the closed door and called out again.
"Sebbit, please..."
I exploded with rage, calling after the bastard to come back – demanding that he answer me. Instead, he simply left me alone to stew in my own rage; a rage that was fueled by a thick cloud of anger and resentment. A palpable, literal cloud.
I began to draw the energy into myself. As I did so I could feel my own anger responding to the resentment contained in the cloud of energy. It was like a cycle, the energy flowed into me as it fueled my rage and my rage in turn strengthened and shaped the energy.
I could feel it growing and contracting into a denser and denser sphere – as if building up to a critical mass before going critical. I felt as though I would explode.
Stop, Finn...
The voice barely registered as I allowed the energy to continue to control me. I continued to pull the energy into myself, consolidating it into my left fist which now shook and wavered as if holding a massive weight.
Finn, you have to stop...
The voice was different this time. It was comforting and familiar – feminine.
Please, calm down.
"Liv?" I asked. "How can you be..."
My rage gradually dwindled, and I found the energy quieting as it joined with the rest of the energy I had collected during my conversation with Catayla. It no longer screamed out in rage, but instead settle into acceptance.
That brief interruption had been enough to interrupt the cycle and the feelings had quickly passed, much like the feelings of depression I had experience earlier.
"You're there," I whispered. "I can feel you in my mind. I thought I was finally free of you, but you're just one more reminder. One more failure added to the pile."
Before that moment I had never experience true, uncontrollable rage and hatred. It had left me drained — physically exhausted in a way that even vigorous exercise could not. It was as if any strength or motivation had been burned away as fuel to feed my anger.
In its place was a gentle apathy. An acceptance of my insignificance. I had felt powerful once, what seemed ages ago, but now I realized I was little more than an insect.
"Come out, Companion. Dark Gemini. Whatever you are, you know more than you are telling me. You wanted me on your side, well now you've got me.
"Help me find her, and I'll do whatever you want."
But the Companion did not answer, instead my ravings were interrupted by two sets of impossibly strong arms that lifted me by the shoulders and dragged me into a narrow, dimly lit hallway.
***
Some time later, the door to my cell was opened and a green skinned Peacekeeper deposited a thin metal tray on the floor before turning and leaving. She never said so much as a word, none of them had.
The tray contained more of the red fruit and a dull gray slice of bread. Beside it was a tin cup of water. I ignored it, as I had done the last half dozen. The trays would come, and then be picked up an hour later – each time untouched.
"You need your strength," said a faint voice.
"I don't care," I croaked.
"They want you for something." The faint outline of a small bird was hidden in the shadows that filled the corner opposite me. "This waiting is nothing more than theatrics meant to break you, to make you beg them to do whatever it is that they want from us."
"So, why have you finally decided to show up?" I said. "Your timing is perfect, as usual. And what is it that you think they want?"
"I'm nothing more than a little bird," the creature said. "What could I tell you?"
"So, what the hell do you want?" I slumped down and let me head lean back against the cool wall. "Come to torture me with meaningless riddles, or did you just stop by to say hi? Perhaps you want to tell me that one of my best friends is either dead or working with a cult of murderers?"
The words were difficult to speak, my throat felt dry and brittle. Each syllable was agony.
"No, Finn," the creature said. "While you've been wallowing in your own misery, I've been trapped in mine. Mind." The creature laughed with a sickly wheeze. "They'll be back, and when they do, we'll be ready."
"Ready how?" I asked. "You can't possibly think we could escape this place."
"Escape?" I could also feel the creature grin despite it being nothing more than the silhouette of a small bird. "No Finn, they are going to let us go."