Paradox: The Last Day - Seymour's Story

by Rachel Charman

  Get it now?

  Feeling himself blacking out from exhaustion, Seymour forcefully tears himself away from her tight grip, and both stagger backward into the walls of the narrow alleyway. Elena stares at Seymour in terror, too shocked to speak, as tears slide en masse down her face. She buries her head in her hands, sobbing wildly, and shaking uncontrollably. Seymour shyly rolls his jacket sleeves down, once again hiding his burnt, smoking brands, and hesitantly sits down across from her, forcefully willing himself to stay conscious.

  “… I’m.. I’m sorry you had to see that.. But… Is that proof enough for you?”

  Elena pulls her head away from her hands; her face chalk-white, and her eyes bloodshot. Her voice hoarse and quavering, she whispers –

  “H-how c-could a-anybody st-stand th-that?! H-how could w-we not know? I-it’s so h-horrible…”

  Seymour reaches forward hesitantly, and pulls Elena against his body. She continues to shudder with terror, and he grips her tightly for a long while, keeping quiet until her sobs recede in small sniffs, and her body ceases to quiver.

  “S-Seymour…”

  “Yes?”

  “… Is there.. any way to avoid that place?”

  Smiling sadly, he knew that would be her first question. He gently runs a hand through her tangled blonde hair, and says softly –

  “… If there is, I don’t know of one. As far as I know, that’s where everyone goes when they die.”

  “T-then.. You’re trying to send everyone there?”

  “Not exactly.. Nyx said that… We can only be saved from that.. if we all die together. I realize that she could be lying, but… I’m willing to take that risk, if we’re all bound to go there anyway.”

  Wiping her eyes, Elena’s look of sadness slowly fades away as she gradually regains her composure, though her eyes remain red and puffy.

  “I’m.. I’m so sorry, Seymour…”

  “Don’t be. I appreciate your offer to the depths of my heart, Elena, but now you can see that I really can’t accept.”

  “I understand.. And I’m.. I’m with you, Seymour. I’m with you ‘til the end..”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  Seymour smiles at Elena despondently, pulls her to her feet, and gives her one last tight embrace, which she returns sincerely. After an awkward minute or two passes, Seymour calls out to Sakura to come back and join them, wakes Gordon up, and pulls out his tracer. However, upon activating the screen, he finds that neither Adrian nor Sam’s signature is anywhere in sight.

  “Strange… Where could they’ve gone?”

  “What do we do if we can’t find them, sir?”

  “Hm.. Well.. Let’s just wait a little while.. This thing only has limited scan range.. Maybe they’ll show up later. In the meantime, I know how we can pass the time.”

  “How’s that?”

  Seymour claps a hand on Gordon’s shoulder, and declares commandingly –

  “Well, Gordon here needs a Magnetic Force Initiator installed. All the supplies needed to build the apparatus should still be at the DIV. 1 facility in Liberty..”

  “What are your orders, sir?”

  “Glad you asked, Sakura. We’ll break on in, and take what’s mine.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  With their plan in mind, Seymour and the others start towards the light at the end of the alleyway, but Elena holds back, her legs still shaking slightly. Seymour looks back at her, extends his hand to her with a sad, yet encouraging look in his eyes, and after a moment of hesitation, she takes it in hers, and says with a dismayed, but resolute smile –

  “… Yes sir, Seymour.”

  “… So.. Want me to break it to you?”

  Two men sit across from each other in a dark, empty room surrounded by blank computer screens which emit a high-pitched buzzing noise that fills the gloom. The man sitting near the back of the room scratches his grey goatee nervously, his face hidden in shadows, and leans back in his seat, takes a last drag on his cigarette, and flicks it onto the floor, while the other man, swathed in a black veil that obscures his entire face, leans forward concernedly in his chair, his arms resting on the back, gripping an opened yellow envelope in his gloved hand.

  “… Go right ahead, man. I’m ready.”

  “Alright… Well, it’s progressed a lot further, and.. it’s become aggressive.

  I’d say you’ll start seeing more symptoms in a couple weeks or so.”

  “Heh.. Heheh… I see..”

  The goateed man pulls out another cigarette, laughing humorlessly under his breath, lights it, and takes a long, deep drag. After a few moments of awkward silence, with nothing but the faint sound of the buzzing computers filling the air, the man with the cigarette says between gritted, yellow teeth –

  “Well, Valkyrie? … How long do I got?”

  With a wearied sigh, the man in the veil stands, and hands the sitting man the large yellow folder with an opened bright red eXo PRIME seal emblazoned on its surface.

  “You can read for yourself. I have to get going; I’ve lingered a bit too long here..”

  “Guess this’ll be the last time we meet for this, right?”

  “I suppose so.. Well… I’m done with sneaking into the PRIME to use their equipment.. After this, I’m putting all of my efforts into searching for Aiden with the Seekers.”

  While the shadowy man opens the folder and inspects the papers inside, the man in the veil approaches the door and makes to exit into the main hallway, but he stops in his tracks, and looks back at the sitting man.

  “What’re you gonna do with the time you’ve got left?”

  “… I’ll figure something out..”

  “Well, you might wanna cut down on the cigarettes..”

  “… This is my last one.”

  The goateed man stands, his face still enveloped in shadows, slides the folder inside his sleeveless jacket, takes one last drag on his cigarette, and flicks it into a lit computer screen. He sighs wearily, runs his fingers through his graying hair, and says in a low voice –

  “… Hmph.. I can’t believe this is how I’m gonna go out… I survived countless battlefields.. I survived the fuckin’ diffusion, for God’s sakes.. Now, I’ve just gotta sit back and die? .. That’s not fair, man..”

  “… Life isn’t fair. Deal with it.”

  “… Heheh.. heh.. Yeah, I guess not.. I just.. wish there was some way to go out with a bang though..”

  On that note, the goateed man opens the door, and cautiously exits the darkened room, leaving the other behind with a sad smile stretched across his wan, yellowy-skinned face hidden beneath his black veil, while the cigarette lying forlornly on the floor silently burns out.

  ~Santuc TerraDome: DIV. 1 R&D Facility (Trajit)~

  After almost a day of trudging across the vast districts of Santuc, Seymour and the others finally arrive at the entrance to the DIV. 1 R&D facility, which is surrounded by the decrepit slums of Trajit. Its main building extends high into the air, cutting through the dense, low-hanging orangey-green cloud of pollution, making the top completely unseen. They run through the empty parking lot, and covertly slip into the underground parkade, taking cover from the surrounding guards behind an APC. In a soft voice, barely more than a whisper, Seymour explains his plan to infiltrate the heavily fortified research facility.

  “Alright, this is how it’s gonna go down… Sakura, you and Gordon go through the entrance, make as much trouble you can, and keep moving up the building into the offices. Don’t be afraid to raise the death toll either.

  That’ll probably clear out the entire lower levels of guards if they go after you two, so Elena and I can slip through into the basement labs to grab the stuff. My work area should still be there, so we’ll slip in, grab the supplies, and meet up in the entrance in thirty, got it?”

  “Got it.”

  “Understood, sir.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Alright. See you two in thirty.”r />
  Sakura and Gordon take off out of the parking lot, and disappear from sight. After about a minute of waiting in silent anticipation, a din erupts above Seymour and Elena’s heads as their two cohorts begin to wreak havoc within the facility. Seymour laughs quietly as the guards’ radios erupt with cries for backup. The guards hurriedly pour from the lot, guns in hand, and into the brightly-lit stairwell. Once the lot is devoid of soldiers, Seymour and Elena slip into the stairwell, and descend to the basement labs. Dashing through the stairwell, the pair encounter a group of soldiers ascending to the upper levels. Reacting swiftly, Elena tears their guns from their hands, mows them down with a stony visage, and hands a shotgun to Seymour, who takes it graciously. Now sufficiently armed, the pair rip through the ascending guards until they reach the basement level. It is deserted and completely dark, save for the lights of computer screens emanating through the glass doors.

  “… My lab is down the right hallway..”

  “You got your own lab?”

  “’Course I did. I was Commander. I had tenure over everything under the Domes. Hell, I could’ve had a pile of cocaine and a million dollars if I’d just asked for it. And in a timely fashion, too.”

  “Interesting.. Would they still have to give you stuff if you asked for it?”

  “That’s a good question. Technically, I am still the highest authority in the eXo PRIME, since I was never formally discharged, but because of my notoriety, the soldiers aren’t inclined to obey my orders.. Perhaps with the proper phraseology, they can be persuaded to adhere to my order.”

  “You think so?”

  “Maybe.. But, to be honest, rank doesn’t seem to matter much. The rank of Commander was created just for me, because they needed someone to exemplify an ‘all-knowing’ force in the PRIME when they started to lose the citizens’ support, and ‘General’ apparently wasn’t a grand enough title to embody that so-called illustrious charge. … Once I was gone, they just handed control of all that stuff to Solari. But they didn’t make HIM a Commander.. Guess that particular venture didn’t really work after the citizens found out their ‘great and all-knowing’ Commander was responsible for killing nine billion people, huh?”

  “Uh, yeah..”

  Continuing down the darkened hallway, the pair eventually arrive at the door to Seymour’s old lab. However, it is barred shut with thick iron bars, and locked tight with a hefty key-lock. Seymour glances at Elena, who smiles back, and raises her hand. However, Seymour stops her, takes hold of the lock, and rips it off himself. Elena raises her eyebrows in surprise, and Seymour simply shrugs as he pulls the glass door open tentatively, enters his shadowy lab, and switches the light on. Most everything within the dim, dusty lab is packed in large, thickly-taped cardboard boxes with big red number stickers emblazoned on their sides, except for a steel briefcase that lies on the desk at the back of the room. The tall steel cabinet on the left side of the lab is bolted shut and taped off. Seymour glances at it quickly with guilty remembrance, then grabs the briefcase, and checks the contents inside. Inside are several vials, myriads of papers and schematic sheets, and a contraband items manifest. While Elena checks the boxes with intrigue, Seymour scans the manifest curiously.

  Report: Lab 86 - seizure of illegally designed and obtained items manifest:

  *Box Label: 1*

  - Prototype “Viper” Electromagnetic Pulse shotgun

  - High-grade self-charging Oxyride batteries (for use in surgery ONLY)

  - “Serpiente del Pecado” venom vials (exercise caution when removing)

  - Surgical tools; various

  - Seraph Tears: 42 liters (Therapeutic Somatic Cell Salve - Medicinal Tissue Restorative: Flupirtine~morphine Analgesic)

  - Saline

  - VENOM adrenal-steroid serum injectors (non-lethal dosage)

  - Electrometers

  - Galvanometers

  - Disciplinal Automation Injection “DAmIn-8” Injectors (self-designed; refer to schemata)

  - DAmIn-8 Solution (self-designed); nanobot technology schemata

  - Midazolam (Benzodiazepine; sedation additive *GPS Nanoid Infix Serum*)

  ~Continue on page 2

  Seymour spends the next few minutes flipping through the pages angrily, while Elena looks over his shoulder curiously. He eventually tosses the manifest aside, tears open a cardboard box by his feet, and sifts through the contents irritably.

  “So how much did they take?”

  “Most everything. But this stuff in here is the last shipment. And according to the manifest, most of the equipment I need to build another pair of MFIs is in these boxes here. They didn’t want to remove them for fear of their safety. But one thing wasn’t stated on the manifest, and hopefully, they didn’t take it..”

  “What’s that?”

  “The conical magnetic charge isolators. It’s the most vital component. Without it, the whole thing is useless.”

  “So… What if they did take it?”

  “Then we go to the military headquarters.”

  It takes a moment for Elena to fully grasp what Seymour said, and when she does, she shakes her head in disbelief and says worriedly –

  “Uh.. Why?”

  “Because it said on the last page of that list that Solari and his Private Jenieille were in charge of the extirpation, and they dumped their shipments in the military headquarters’ contraband vault..”

  “But, that is really the last place we should go…”

  “… Do you have any other ideas? It takes about a month to make one of those CMCI units from scratch, and we don’t have the time.”

  Elena sighs apprehensively, but then nods in wearied acceptance.

  “… Alright, I understand.. Oh, but hey, speaking of not having enough time, we have about five minutes to rendezvous with Sakura and Gordon..”

  “‘Kay, let’s get out of here then.”

  While Seymour gathers the boxes together, Elena bites her nails nervously, and exclaims under her breath –

  “.. I hope they’re okay…”

  “They will be. I didn’t tell them to die.”

  “Yeah, but-”

  “Don’t worry about them, I’m sure they’re fine. Just grab a box, and let’s get out of here.”

  Each carrying a stack of boxes filled with equipment, they leave the lab together, and dash through the darkened corridors as fast as they can with their hands full, back to the harshly-lit stairwell, and up to the main floor. They run out to find the entire main floor in ruins, soaked in blood, with soldiers lying in heaps; some with their helmets crushed, some with massive bleeding gunshot wounds and great purple and black bruises from repeated bludgeoning. Sakura and Gordon stand amidst the carnage, completely unfazed by their actions, as Seymour approaches them with a satisfied smile.

  “Good job, guys.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Right then, here, you take these boxes, and I’ll run back and get some more. Gordon, Sakura, you go secure a vehicle so we can get out of here safely.”

  Gordon and Sakura nod compliantly; Seymour hands the two his boxes, and makes to run back down the stairwell, but Elena holds him back with a worrisome glare.

  “You’re going alone? I‘d better come with you.”

  “No, you make sure that no soldiers follow me downstairs. I’ll meet you in the parking lot in ten minutes, okay?”

  “… Alright.”

  Seymour gives a quick nod to Elena, and confidently runs back down the stairwell, killing anyone still foolish enough to be in his way. Upon exiting into the pitch-black laboratory hallway, the sound of running footsteps fills the corridor. As he anxiously looks around for the source of the sound, someone suddenly smashes Seymour in the back of the head with the butt of an assault rifle, and knocks him to the ground. Dazed, his vision blurry, feeling warm blood seep out from a newly-formed gash on the back of his head, Seymour tries to get up, but instead is whacked with the rifle repeatedly, knocking him back to the ground. Shaking, blood leaking
from his nose, he tries again to stand, but is struck again. The unseen attacker puts a foot on Seymour’s back, holding him to the ground, grabs his wrist, and drives an oddly colored knife through Seymour’s hand, securing it to the floor. As Seymour cries out in pain, his attacker grabs his other hand, and does the same to it. His hands burn with a strange intensity as the blades leak a viscous black liquid straight into the wounds. As Seymour struggles to remain conscious, his attacker emits a high-pitched laugh, leans close in to Seymour’s face, and whispers softly –

  “Pay up, Moreau. I win.”

  Seymour turns his throbbing head slightly, and through his blurred, fading vision, spots the smug, maniacally twisted face of General Solari. With a smile, Solari aims his rifle at Seymour’s right leg, and fires a stream of bullets all along it, spraying the floor with blood, as Seymour tries desperately not to scream out in agony. Laughing madly, Solari pulls Seymour’s head back by his bloodstained hair, and dangles another oddly colored combat knife just above his throat.

  “… Some might call this overkill.. I call it.. justice.”

  Just before Solari begins to slice through Seymour’s flesh, the sound of heavy footsteps permeates the darkened corridor. Letting go of Seymour’s hair, Solari stands slowly, his eyes narrowed as he searches for the source of the footsteps, when somebody strikes Solari in the back of the head with a metal chair from behind. He doesn’t even have time to scream in pain as he instantly collapses onto the floor beside Seymour. The clanging sound of the chair being tossed aside fills the dark corridor, and the heavy footsteps approach Seymour slowly while he desperately tries to crawl away, though his hands are pinned to the ground by the strange knives. A wrinkled hand slides into Seymour’s vision as it pulls the knives out of his hands, and tosses them aside. Picking Seymour up gently, the rescuer puts two of his shaking, slightly gnarled fingers on the side of Seymour’s throat, checking for a pulse. Just before Seymour’s vision fades to blackness, he catches a glimpse of his savior; a face he hasn’t seen for almost five years.