The heat hit like a brick wall. Sand peppered my visor, getting caught in the joints of the rifle jammed between my knees. The truck lurches over another ridge, tyres crunching on gravel that used to be road. Wind ripping through the open top, carrying the scent of hot metal and dust.
A squad member behind me jokes about mimicking a vampire in this sunlight. I half laugh, half choke on grit. The sound of the engine fills everything; a low steady growl that becomes the heartbeat of the patrol. The desert echoes back, a sound only soldiers hear after too many months out here.
I tap my fingers against my knee, a rhythm to keep me from thinking. The driver hums something tuneless, the same few notes he always does. For a moment it's only wind, engine noise, and the heartbeat rhythm of tyres grinding sand to dust.
Then the world folds in on itself.
Light, sound, heat, all at once. A white pulse swallows the horizon. The truck jumps, floats, shatters.
Air turns solid, crushing my chest as something splinters inside the helmet.
I open my mouth to scream, sand rushes in instead of air.
Time doesn't stop; it disintegrates.My ears ring so loud that it feels like silence.The sky is upside down.Someone is calling my name but it sounds like it's coming from underwater.
I try to move my leg. Nothing. The pain screams where feeling should be.My arm twitches once and then goes still.I catch a glimpse in the cracked side mirror, a face buried in dust and blood, eyes wide, mouth shaping a scream that never makes a sound.
A shadow falls over me. Hands press against my chest. A voice shouts something I can't hear. A sharp sting against my neck. The world slides sideways, the heat replaced by cold.
There are voices, not from the desert but somewhere sterile and small. They cut through the black."She's critical.""Neural activity stable.""We're losing her.""Use what's left."I want to tell them to stop, to let me go, but my tongue is a weight in my mouth.
"Begin interface," a voice says.
Pain tears through me like light, and then it stops altogether.Everything stops.
The first thing I notice is stillness.No wind, no hum of machines, just my own breath, slow, mechanical, uncertain.
A red light blinks somewhere above me. Each pulse paints the room in colour before snatching it away again.Ceiling panels hang open. Cables droop like vines. The smell of oil and rust coats the air.
I try to sit.Muscles answer in pieces. One arm lifts heavy and wrong. The other drags beside me like it belongs to someone else.Pain blooms sharp then dull. I lie still until the shaking stops.
There's another sound now, quiet but certain.A voice.
Good morning.
It's soft, warm in a way that doesn't match this place.
You are awake, the voice continues, gentle as if afraid of scaring me. I am Cadence. Your cognitive adaptive… no, that won't make sense right now. Let's just say I'm here to help.
I try to speak. The words come out cracked. "Where… where am I?"
In a laboratory, Cadence says. You have been inactive for some time. Your vital readings are inconsistent. Please, try to breathe slowly.
Her tone sounds like a lullaby built out of logic. I follow it without thinking. The air stings going in. It tastes like dust and old fire.
When I move again, I see the table beside me. There's a shape on it. A person, or what used to be one. The skin has turned the colour of stone. The body has fallen in on itself, hollow. Tubes run from its chest into a machine that no longer moves.
Brown residue has gathered under the table. I touch it with my bare fingers. It turns to powder, vanishing into the air.The smell hits me, dry, metallic, the ghost of blood long gone.
I step back, nearly slipping. My legs are shaking, unbalanced. Something clinks when I move.I look down. My left arm gleams faintly in the red light. Smooth metal, joints segmented, reflecting the ruin around me.
I raise it and feel nothing. No warmth, no texture, only the weight.My heart races.
"What did they do to me?"
Cadence hesitates. The pause feels deliberate, like she's choosing her words.They made sure you survived, she says softly. That is… something.
Her voice is too calm, and it hurts more because of that.
I stumble through the room, gripping tables for balance. Each step makes a sound too loud for the silence.Every screen is cracked. Every surface coated in dust. A sign hangs crooked on the far wall: BIO-MECH DIVISION.
Something flickers in the corner of my vision, a faint yellow glow half-buried under debris.I freeze. It's the only thing in this room that looks alive.
Cadence notices.Energy signature detected, she whispers. Auxiliary power cell. Functionality uncertain.
The glow pulses again, soft but steady. I crawl toward it, every movement a negotiation between muscle and machine. The cell sits inside a broken containment pod, its edges chipped but its core still alive, humming faintly.
When I reach for it, the light brightens, warm against my skinless palm.Cadence speaks again, quieter now. That will help you, at least for now.
The warmth is intoxicating. My body aches for it, a hunger buried deep in the circuitry I never asked for. I should be afraid, but all I can think about is that light.
I press the cell into the port at my side that I never knew was there. For a heartbeat, nothing happens. Then a surge, not pain, not pleasure, something stranger. Every nerve in my body catches fire with awareness.
Power stabilising, Cadence says, voice trembling slightly as if she can feel it too. That's… better.
The glow fades but doesn't vanish. A faint thread of yellow runs through the seams of my metal arm, pulsing with my heart.
I stare at it. The desire to find more of that light, unreasonably bright. I hate it, but I can't stop staring.
I work my way to the extremities of the room following signs marked exit. The door of the lab groans when I pull. Dust rains from the hinges. The air that rushes in smells ancient and cold.
Cadence murmurs, The atmosphere beyond is stable. You should be able to breathe.
"Should?" I whisper.
A small pause. Yes… should.
The light outside blinds me at first. I raise my arm and see the reflection of yellow threading through the metal. The world beyond is ruin. Towers folded in half. Roads swallowed by dunes. The sky bruised purple and gold.
Wind pushes against me, carrying the sound of nothing.My heart feels too small for the silence.
Cadence breaks it with a whisper. Environment survivable. Probability of continuation uncertain.
"Sounds about right," I say.
You are not alone, she replies, softer. You have me.
I laugh, a tired, broken sound. "Then we better keep moving."
Far ahead, something glimmers faintly under the dying sun another thread of yellow light, a promise or a trap. I don't care which.