Bright—too bright.
That was the first thought that reached Ares's mind as he woke. Then the memories came flooding back: the massacre, the destruction, the pain.
"They're gone… they're all gone," he muttered, feeling his body grow limp with the weight of the realization.
"Greetings, patient," a soft, synthesized voice sounded, grabbing his attention.
A segment of the wall had lit up, displaying the avatar of a young woman in a nurse's cap with a military camouflage cross printed on it.
"Good afternoon. I hope you had a pleasant rest," it greeted. "You are currently a patient in the general hospital attached to the 9th Guard Battalion of the Northern Quadrant."
"Which Bastion?" Ares asked, his voice hoarse.
"Bastion Zion."
Ares searched his memory, trying to recall what he knew of the place. Bastion Zion was renowned for producing the most Kaos Warriors and was the most advanced of the Bastions in medical and biological engineering.
"What is the state of my Bastion?" Ares asked anxiously.
"I am not authorized to comment on geopolitical matters, but I have notified a clinician of your awakening. She will be with you shortly," the AI concluded, its avatar blinking as if awaiting more questions.
Ares did not bother; a human would arrive soon.
He brought a hand to his face, trying to pull off the augmented-reality glasses that seemed to be attached to him, but his fingers met only his own skin.
What the heck is going on?
He probed at the corners of his eyes, attempting to feel the edges of the augmented lenses that must have been placed there, but still, his hands met nothing. Then how am I seeing this data overlay? he wondered.
At the base of his vision, he could spot a string of faint text. As he concentrated on it, the text expanded, becoming sharp and legible.
SQ: 16.3
Strength: 1.7
Durability: 1.3
Agility: 2.1
Perception: 3.9 [+1.0]
Intelligence: 5.3 [+1.0]
Skills: None Registered
Is this my Somatic Quantity? How has it grown by two points? Why is it appearing in my vision?
Several questions rushed through his mind, but no answers came.
"Did I undergo any neurological implant surgery?" he asked the medical AI.
"Definitely not. Your major injuries were light internal bleeding and toxic poisoning, both of which have been treated," the female avatar replied. "Are you experiencing any unfamiliar symptoms? Please clarify so we may update your medical report."
"No, I'm fine," Ares replied sharply.
Why did I reject its help? The reply had been instinctive, as if the AI's question was touching on something it shouldn't have.
He searched his mind again, trying to recall anything before he fainted, but the memory was a blur. The more he tried to grasp it, the hazier it became. The last clear thing he remembered was being hit by the shockwave of a shell and slowly losing consciousness.
As his hands explored his face, they found something else. His hair was gone.
"What the hell—"
"Hello there," a feminine voice cut him off as a young woman in a clinician's uniform entered the room. "How are you feeling?"
Ares just stared at her. Not at her face, but at the string of glowing data that hovered just above her head.
SQ: 22 |Threat Level: Moderate
A bright diagnostic light flooded his vision, forcing him to blink and giving him a blessed moment of darkness as his eyes closed.
"Are you experiencing any unfamiliar sensations?" the clinician asked as she withdrew the penlight she had just used.
Ares just stared at her. The secret felt too deep, too personal to divulge. He simply gave her a head shake– Nope.
"That's good," she answered, making a note on her datapad. "If you need anything, you can talk to the integrated AI. It will log any requests for medical staff."
Ares nodded.
From her pockets, she brought out a plastic card. "This contains 500 credits and can be used at the vending machines and the hospital mall."
She walked to a corner of the room and lifted a dark box bearing an insignia of an Alienoid skull with a dagger driven through its center. "This is the standard care package provided by the Kaos Alliance. It contains a HaloComm along with some basic essentials. And I will repeat," she said, leaning in closer, "if you need anything, let us know."
He nodded again, his throat tight. "Is Bastion Genesis… gone?" he finally asked, his voice a little shaky.
The young clinician studied him in silence for a moment before she gave a single, solemn nod.
Ares didn't feel pain; it didn't feel real. He had just heard a devastating revelation about his home, but Bastion Genesis felt like a distant dream.
"Are there… a lot of survivors?"
The clinician shook her head slowly. "Right now, we barely have any confirmed survivors. But rescue operations are still ongoing."
Ares felt his hands turn unnaturally cold.
"A welfare official will meet you in a couple of days," she continued, her tone gentle. "She will help you address any concerns that are not medically related and help you plan your next steps."
As she turned to leave, she paused at the door. "That reminds me. The soldier who rescued you is also a patient here."
Ares's eyes widened. He had no recollection of that. The clinician, noticing his curiosity, continued.
"If you want to meet him, I can send his room number to you when I get back." Ares nodded. He needed to see the man he owed his life to, and maybe find some answers.
"See you later then. Try to rest as much as you can," the clinician said as she left his bay.