Chapter Text
Recorded March 5, 2559
[RECOVERED AUGUST 16, 2560]
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-Transferring-
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-Repairing corrupted data-
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----Recording Start----
“Hello, is this thing work-”
A glitch, one that would never be seen on modern day technology, ripped through the footage, distorting the very few pixels that the centuries old camcorder had to begin with, before completely going to static as the young man’s voice cuts out.
The video appears to stop. All visual and auditory data, barring the blue-tinted static, ceases to function. Yet, when you listen closely, there is a subtle ring; it is almost synonymous to the hum of a generator --- the buzz of electricity. It was an interference, one with a strong enough electromagnetic field that it was damaging the camcorders electronics.
As the buzz gets louder, the video begins to cut back in and out intermittently, showing the man recording the video coughing into the crook of his elbow violently. Crimson blood drips down his ashy arm as the sound of dry heaving merged as one with the irritating buzzing.
The resonations keep getting louder and louder and louder until all the sudden, as if thrown into the eye of the storm, everything stops. The video goes black and the buzzing disappears, leaving the footage adrift in a pregnant stillness.
All sound falls away except for the strangers labored breathing.
If not for the eerie panting in the background, it would have been a moment of serenity. A scene captured in the eye of the storm. An isle of peace, surrounded by inky waters of fear. The seconds ticked on and the silence grew continuously tense. 1, 2, 3, 4 -
A bright orange pulse jolts the camera and the room the young man sits in. The sound of glass shattering prompts him to jump in fear as dusty beakers and plates fall off of forgotten shelves. Sparks fall from above, and he runs a hand through his sweat-soaked hair, silently mouthing shit. He attempts to get out of his chair when another oscillation causes him to lose footing and fall to the ground.
“Shit!” He screams out loud, out of frame. Heavy breathing breaks a pungent silence as his body slowly comes back into view. His hand is wrapped tightly around his knee where he assumably cut himself on broken glass.
The young man limps away from the camera and towards the door. Outside is almost complete darkness, exempt for a faint orange light that's shining from somewhere far into the corridor. He places his hand on the metal frame and peaks out. He stays like this for a few moments, picking away the darkness to see what’s behind. Seemingly satisfied, he backs away and throws a switch on the wall. It beeps and glows green before a screeching sound - the metal door rubbing against the rusted frame - makes the boy jolt where he stands. It almost makes him scream when the faulty wires are overloaded, sending sparks out of the switch and stopping the door in its tracks a few inches away from the floor.
After attempting to close it himself, and subsequently failing, the boy returns to the camera. His eyes dart back and forth in front of the camera, deciding what information he should reveal and which to leave out, to whoever would be watching his, more likely than not, final words. He runs his bloodied hand through his hair once again, leaving a streak of the red iridescent liquid, before finally coming to terms with the fact.
“My name is Ajax Farlow, son of Allie Farlow, a high clearance ONI official positioned in the Olympic Tower in New Alexandria. I was born in the Viery Territory of Reach and worked for some time at the Cargo Port as a Mechanic. Many at ONI know me more commonly as the Harbinger.”
A loud bang from the corridor cuts the boy off. He swings around, but once again there is nothing there; at least, nothing of immediate concern. However, as he turned around, the orange light moved. It was getting closer.
“I helped ONI through the war. I helped humanities best shots at survival have their shots. I helped you. And now you get to live your lives…...but me? No, I was expandable. You got what you wanted and threw me away. Just like my mother. Well fuck that.”
Behind Ajax, the orange light reaches the entry. Where the door hadn’t completely closed, two silhouetted legs appear, thick and metallic. Ajax closes his eyes and flinches when the thing outside strikes the only barrier between him and death. He closes his eyes but never turns around, and despite the imminent threat, Ajax continues as a dent is put into the door.
“Humanity doesn't deserve to survive. We all have sins we must atone for, and I hope you get to live your lives knowing that every second is a second more of debt you’ll have to pay for what you’ve done and what you’ve allowed to happen. I hope you suffer knowing this one last thing: ONI knew. And they didn’t move a fucking finger to stop it.”
The door crashes open and Ajax shoots up. The orange light is brighter than anything else in the room. Like staring at the sun for too long, the pixels in the camera’s footage gradually burnt one by one, causing distorted lines and colors to fill the screen.
Ajax looks over his shoulder to see the figure obscured by a cloud of smoke. From what he could see, it was tall and lean with purposefully curves to make its body as sleek and protected as possible. It’s body parts are interconnected by nothing more than wires and stainless metal sheets. In between seams came the light.
Ajax turned around and looked quickly into the deteriorating camera.
“If ONI finds this first, humanity will never know of their crimes. It’s more than just the genocide they let happen. There’s more to this story than they let on. Promise me this: you will bring them down. With ONI at the wheel, we are all doomed to repeat the same mistakes of our past. War is coming again, and you will all-”
Ajax didn’t finish. The camera's picture dies far before the audio does, but the screams are far more than enough to paint the picture.
----Recording Terminated----