Chapter Text
Chapter 1: DEEP BELOW THE GROUND.
It was hot... too hot. Even buried under tons of rock, deep underground, Dario’s clothes stuck to his skin like summer back on good old Earth. The fact that a society, too big for its own good, had formed in an old mining complex didn’t help. But that didn’t matter... there was a job to do.
He marched through the cramped slums of the lower levels, riot shield in hand, moving in formation with his brothers and sisters in arms, as the Cap liked to say. They pushed aside any unfortunate soul who crossed their path, heading toward their destination; a dark, circular hole the size of a small house, carved straight into the stone.
The old miners who still remained said this had once been the planned entrance to a new mining zone, closer to the biggest palladium deposit on the exoplanet. The marks left by the giant drill machines were still fresh on the walls. They’d made significant progress, until, of course, resources were diverted to other, more vital operations like iron, given the need to arm Earth’s forces when everything went to hell.
“All right, soldiers, gather around!” The captain shouted, her voice reverberating through the cavern. Her lungs were still strong despite her age, though her once dark hair was beginning to gray with time.
The twenty men and women in the squad fell into formation, the dark pit looming behind her.
"You know why we’re here. If the reports are correct, members of a rebel cell are hiding in the unused caverns of the mine. Our job is to bring them into the light... and to justice!"
Yep, that was the Cap, an old veteran still treating this rundown group like one of her former regiments from the war. Some said she’d gone mad; others figured this was just how she coped.
"So... lethal force is authorized, Mrs. Grace?" Asked one of the newest 'volunteers'. Tyler... or at least, Dario thought that was his name. The kid barely looked older than his sister. Then again, most of them would’ve rather been anywhere else. But the pool of recruits in the colony, officially called Mine, since the council couldn’t even agree on a real name, was small, and the benefits weren’t half bad.
Thankfully, Dario was taller and bulkier than the average Joe, so he’d gotten in without much trouble.
"Lethal force is authorized ONLY if they show extreme aggression." The captain snapped. "And for the last time, Private, you will refer to me as Captain or I’ll have you cleaning the black water tank for a week. Have I made myself clear?"
"Y-Yes, sir... ma’am... I-I mean, Captain." The kid stammered, slowly shrinking behind his companions.
"Good. Now, according to the maps, there were three main tunnels that converged on a central cavity, which was used to store supplies during the mining years. If I were a slimy traitor, that’s where I’d set up shop. The scouts we sent yesterday reported that one of the tunnels has collapsed, so we’ll split into two groups of ten; two bulwarks and two riflemen per team."
She turned to the mustached man at her left. "You’ll take the one to the right, Sergeant. Remember, radios won’t work in there, so if you make contact, wait until both teams reach the area."
The man gave her a nod and a quick salute. "Aye, Captain. We’ll be back for lunch." He turned to the group. "All right, you heard her. Those on my left, with me."
Both officers faced the dark maw of the tunnel and stepped inside, switching on their flashlights before disappearing into the shadows.
‘I guess I'm stuck with Sarge Miller. Not a bad guy, and definitely not as stiff as the Cap.’ Was Dario's initial thought. ‘Didn’t they serve together during the Arctic offensives?’ Whatever the case, he grabbed his shield, the glorified club still strapped to his belt, and followed him in, flicking on his own light.
Bulwark, that’s what he was. He took the hits so the others wouldn’t have to, hoping they'd neutralize the threat before he ended up dead. The metal plating on his armor and the riot helmet only helped so much. He could’ve said the job sucked, but honestly, the responsibility felt rewarding sometimes. Maybe being a big brother had wired him that way.
"You think it’s them, mate?" A young voice beside him asked, breaking through his thoughts.
"What?"
"You know... these rebels. They have to be the Null, right? They..."
Dario cut him off with a sharp nudge. "Keep your voice down, Lou, or the Sarge’ll have us on trial."
"Really? Just for talking?"
"Remember Annie?"
"Oh... yeah."
Louis Jones, with his short blond hair and a neatly trimmed goatee, was about Dario’s age and had been his first friend in this forsaken place after Dario’s family arrived as refugees. Dario had long ago lost count of how many times Louis’s grandmother had watched over his siblings after their parents died.
Slim as a stick, Louis, however, possessed the best aim in the entire colony, a skill that earned him the rare privilege of carrying one of the few remaining sniper rifles. With the planet’s lack of industry, firearms had become increasingly scarce. Most others had to make do with low caliber handguns, the occasional submachine gun, or, in many cases like Dario’s, crude melee weapons.
“Look, regular rebels or mad cultists... it doesn’t matter.” The bigger man said. “We've to deal with them either way. Besides, we have no proof that they...”
The group froze as the beam from the sergeant’s flashlight swept across a nearby wall, revealing a strange symbol painted in a dark, glistening substance. A black circle sat at its center, with three serpent-like arrows spiraling outward. Once unknown, the symbol was now feared across the colony.
“Shit. It’s them.”
“We should fall back and return with reinforcements.”
“The fucking dremons are here?!”
“I didn’t sign up for this…”
"Silence!" Sergeant Miller snapped at his group. "We keep going, and we finish whatever this is. That’s an order! Keep your weapons at the ready." He continued walking, sounds and faint lights already gleaming at the end of the tunnel.
Dario took the metal club from his belt and tightened his grip on the shield handle.
"You got my back, right, Lou?"
"Always." Louis affirmed while checking if his rifle was ready. "We shouldn't have expelled the drones from the force. They would have come in handy."
"You know we can't trust them. Shit, you know what they've done." Dario spat.
"Well, if the rumors are true, it's not just drones anymore. And besides, look at drones like Charles, he’s taken care of my grandma since forever, and you know he worries about Dani and Laura, too."
"That drone is older than dirt. He probably wasn’t even affected by the Awakening; it’s just his original programming." Dario had grown tired of this argument. His family had never been able to afford a drone, before either the Collapse or the Awakening, so he had little experience with them. But he did know that drones were the reason he was stuck on this dust-covered planet, and for him, that was enough.
“How can you even tell the difference between programming and real thoughts at this point?" Louis remarked with a smirk on his face.
Dario was about to retort when the sarge raised his fist. They were close now; the tunnel had turned into a stone wall again, and voices could be heard. A light shone from behind half-closed metal doors.
"Halt." Miller ordered in a whisper. "I’ll go in quietly. Bulwarks behind, the rest follow one by one." With that, he crouched and opened the doors, with Dario and the other shield bearer close behind.
The doors opened to a balcony overlooking a large, open area on a lower level, about half the size of a football field, with stairs leading down on both their right and left. When the group of ten finally entered the place, they saw the source of the light. Actual fires burning in old oil drums, illuminating the area around a large stone table, where two disturbingly calm drones were tied. They were stripped of clothes, wigs, or the hats commonly worn to blend in.
"What in the absolute fuck..." Dario heard Louis whisper.
In front of the makeshift altar, rows of drones watched patiently, but they were not alone. Some humans stood among them, anticipation in their eyes. Even weirder, beyond the crowd and directly behind the altar, stood a figure. Its entire body was cloaked, but faint lights flickered beneath the hood. A drone, most likely, but taller, almost as tall as the average human.
Dario saw Sarge Miller making hand signs to the other side of the storage area. It seemed Captain Grace had made it there as well. They 'talked' to each other for a minute until Miller finally turned around to face the group.
"Alright, people, listen closely. We’re going down there slowly and quietly, surrounding these freaks while they’re distracted. Then, you’ll wait for a signal from the captain to step in. Any questions?" No one spoke. "Good. Riflemen, you’ll remain here and give us cover. The rest, follow my lead." With that, he moved to the stairs on the right.
Dario and Louis exchanged a nod, no words needed, before Dario moved with the rest.
The murmurs from the crowd suddenly stopped. All their gazes, both organic and digital, turned to the altar as the cloaked figure finally spoke in a female voice.
"Brothers and sisters, thank you for coming. I know the watchful eyes of the nonbelievers make these kinds of reunions a risk for all of us. I promise you, one day, we won’t have to hide anymore. We will show our devotion to our Goddess freely and without restraint!" A few praises rose from the crowd. "That day is close, my brethren. And today, that moment becomes even closer thanks to our new holy warriors."
The figure pointed to the two tied drones, their digital eyes hollow, small smiles fixed on their faces.
"Months ago, ten volunteered for this opportunity, and through faith and strength, you two survived my training. Today, you will be rewarded with a closer connection to the Solver. For I am Serial Designation X, her prophet, and my oil is her conduit!" Then the figure dropped its cover.
Dario and his companions felt a cold shiver as they began to move through the main area of the lower level. They couldn’t believe it.
A dremon.
Its body formed a vaguely feminine shape, with no clothes to cover its material, black and white being its main colors. Its conic forearms and legs remained mostly white, except for the tips of the peg-like appendages, making it seem absurd that it could even maintain balance. The creature’s head was drone-like, except for the yellow hue of its visor, an unnatural color for any known drone, as well as the long white hair cascading halfway down its back.
But, of course, what everyone remembered were those damn lights; five yellow glows that, at a glance, looked like a headband. But veterans knew better. They were more like the creature’s true eyes... eyes that made it nearly impossible to hide from them.
‘How hasn't it found them yet?’ Thought Dario. Maybe the shadows and the heat from the fires were preventing it from distinguishing them among the crowd. He could see Miller tightening his grip on his pistol, staring at the dremon without blinking. Poor bastard must be dealing with some serious PTSD.
"Sergeant, is everything okay?" Dario dared to ask.
"No, boy, it's not." He gulped nervously. "We need to move quicker. I think I know what it wants to do." He began moving again.
"What? What do you mean?" But he received no direct response, so he just followed the man. He did catch one thing, though. "Drone ghouls."
On the altar, a human man, no older than thirty, had walked up to the dremon and kneeled. The creature placed its hand on his shoulder before turning to the crowd and declare.
"Our kinds have fought each other for decades, but I know the truth. This is not a war between humans and drones; it is a war between those who follow our Goddess and those who do not. For we will all be returned to the void as one, where we will exist in eternal bliss, free of pain, worry, and in the end... awake once more in a perfect newly crafted universe."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd, some even making an X mark with their arms.
"This man offers his body so that I may deliver her Will. He’s truly blessed, for he will be in Her embrace before any of us." The man looked up at the dremon, a smile on his face.
"Blessed be the Great Solver. Blessed be the Exponential End!"
It stared at the man, a yellow X replacing its eyes. Its mouth opened wider… and wider, revealing a row of sharp teeth slick with synthetic drool.
"Blessed be the Solver of the Absolute Fabric!"
And then it bit.
The crowd chanted those same words as the monster dug its teeth into soft flesh. First the neck, then the lower head and, in just three bites, only a headless body remained.
The creature lifted the corpse and began drinking from the river of blood flowing from the open wound. A noise, like pouring cold water onto red-hot metal, emanated from its casing as its thirst and inner heat were sated.
The body dropped to the floor, and the beast turned to the crowd. The yellow X still burned on its visor, and its front side was now deep red.
"And now... we welcome our new warriors." Switching its right hand to a sword like appendage, it cut its own wrist, letting dark oil flow from the wound. "Drink." Lifting its hand above the mouth of the first tied drone, drops of the black liquid fell into their mouth. They savored every single one. It was godly, better than the best coolant they had ever tasted.
The Dremon moved to the other drone, their orange eyes hollow with... doubt? Whatever the case, before it could reach them, a voice erupted in their church.
"EVERYONE DROP TO THE FLOOR! This is the Mine Security Force, and you are all under arrest for the crimes of sedition and murder!" Captain Grace shouted, ordering her now well-positioned team to close in, driving the surprised crowd of cultists to the center of the room.
Dario pushed some of the straggling humans and drones toward the rest of their group, but his eyes were fixed on the monster. It stood still, its gaze on the floor, the bangs of its hair covering the visor.
‘Wait... why is that first drone twitching?’
"Bulwarks, surround the Dremon!" Sarge Miller ordered, and the four of them complied.
The cultists were getting agitated, some inadvertently reaching into their pockets. They had to move fast.
A laugh interrupted Dario’s thoughts as he got closer to the monster, at first low and innocent, then loud and aggressive. The Dremon lifted its head, looking directly at them.
"HAHAHAAHAHA!" The maniac laugh escaped its throat, through rows of pointy teeth. "And here I thought I would go hungry. My brethren's blood barely made a dent... but the Solver smiles upon me, for she has delivered a feast."
Metal wings suddenly sprouted from its back, and claws as long as knives replaced its hands. "This is the time, my brothers and sisters! Show your devotion, show your faith!"
The crowd erupted in yells and screams, charging toward the guards with knives that had so far remained hidden. The two commanding officers barely had time to order the soldiers to shoot before a brutal close-quarters fight ensued.
The armored guard to Dario’s left charged at the dremon, who, despite the commotion, had remained still. His shield was about to strike its target when the poor man suddenly tripped and crashed to the ground, wondering what the hell had happened. The other three bulwarks saw why. A tail, ending in a stinger attached to a yellow cylinder, had extended from the creature and tripped him. The foul beast had kept it hidden behind the altar.
“Ohhh, what’s wrong, ape? Can’t even walk straight? Let me give you a hand.”
It pounced on the fallen man, who barely managed to raise his shield in time to block the strike. The creature’s claws tore through the metal like butter. But the relief was short-lived. Before any of his companions could intervene, it drove its stinger into the man’s unarmored side.
Dario would have nightmares of this. First the wound seemed like an ordinary stab but soon it started to glow, the groans of the man soon turning into screams of pain. A yellow substance was eating away its armor and flesh, leaving behind nothing but steaming sludge. His body twisted in pain as he died from the inside out and when the effects ended... the left side of the now lifeless man was gone, the insides and guts falling out like a broken sack.
The creature stood up.
"I'll eat you later." It said, almost cheerfully. "But first..." It turned to the others. "I'll deal with your friends." It jumped, wings spreading as it hovered behind them, striking at Dario with its claws and the other guard with its stinger. Both managed to block the attacks, though the latter’s shield was already beginning to dissolve.
The third bulwark lunged at the beast, managing to crack its head with her metal club. That blow would have put any other human, or even a drone, in past tense. But not this time. Instead, the creature turned its gaze to the female guard, her visor broken but already regenerating.
"Big mistake." The dremon snarled, shifting its arm into a submachine gun that opened fire in a blinding spray. The low-caliber rounds were stopped by the bulwark’s shield, but with her vision blocked, she couldn’t see what her opponent was doing.
The gunfire suddenly stopped and lowering her shield... she came face to face with the beast, its clawed hand just inches away from her face.
"Boo!" She suddenly spat out blood, the red spilling from her mouth as a claw pierced her chest. The metal plates meant to protect her had failed.
Dario’s now last bulwark companion, with his shield completely dissolved, charged at the beast. His attack might actually harm it, a thought driven by hope, valor, or perhaps sheer fear.
Dario was about to follow after him, when a tearing noise behind him caught his attention. The drone that had drunk the dremon's oil had broken loose, its visor now glowing yellow, and a deranged look burning in its eyes.
"Yes... I can feel it..." A male voice came from the changed drone. "The Solver grants me strength!"
It leapt at Dario, seizing his shield and trying to wrench it from his grasp.
"The fuck." He muttered. He couldn’t push the drone away. Drones were strong, but this was too much, with the shield even starting to bend under the force. He swung his club, slamming it into the drone’s leg, breaking its inner structure in an instant and sending the mad machine crashing to the floor. Dario wasted no time, striking its visor with the edge of the shield, shattering it. Smoke began to ascend from the wound. Weird.
And yet, it tried to get up, whatever pain it could feel seemingly nullified.
‘Fuck that.’
He stomped the drone's head with his boot until the casing burst open, oil pouring onto the ground. Finally, the drone lay inert.
With his opponent apparently dead, he turned to face the greater threat. And his worst fears came true; he was now the last bulwark. The creature was walking toward him, casually munching on the severed arm of his unfortunate teammate.
"You know, I must have ended the lives of tens of thousands, humans and drones alike." She gulped and swallowed the rest of her meal. "But it never gets old. The Great Solver probably made it that way." She glanced at the fight raging behind her. Cultists were dying left and right, their fervor and devotion no match for gunpowder, though a few guards lay bleeding on the ground. "They are one with the Solver now..."
She... yes, Dario supposed ‘she’ was the right word, despite everything, was smiling.
Dario stared at her, bracing for an attack... any moment now.
But it never came.
Instead, she turned back to him and kept talking, her wings folding neatly inside her back.
"You think I’m mad?" She asked. "You think I’m just lying to these poor folk?"
‘Wait... she’s seriously doing this right now? Maybe I can distract her until the others catch up.’
"Does it really matter?" He replied, keeping his shield raised.
"Of course!" She shouted. "Everything would be so much easier if you could see what I’ve seen." He raised an eyebrow.
"And what exactly have you seen?"
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted his remaining teammates finishing off the last of the cultists. Sergeant Miller had already locked eyes with him. She, for her part, looked up, as if trying to relive a distant memory.
"The other side. The Solver’s embrace." Then she looked at him again. "I’ve died hundreds of times. Each time, I returned there, an endless sea where all living beings become one, unbothered by worldly pain. If only you could feel that... true peace."
"You’ve died before?" That actually sounded concerning, her being able to come back from the dead.
"You humans put up a good fight back on Earth. Every city, every house, every single grain of sand was worth dying for, apparently. And so, I perished... many times." She paused, as if the memories weighed on her. "But I’m one of her prophets. One of twenty-six." She sighed. "She brought me back every time. To continue the fight. Until it’s done."
"What exactly has to be done?" The sarge, cap, and the others were now surrounding her from behind.
"The void. The exponential end. Every single sentient being in her care, every planet core consumed. In other words..." Her headlights flickered.
‘Shit, I forgot about her true eyes.’ He thought, alarmed by the realization.
"Peace in our time."
The guards opened fire on her, but she released her metal wings just in time, blocking each bullet. She then rotated into herself, using her extended wings as blades and slicing into some of the guards' hands, forcing them to drop their weapons.
"Fools. I'm a living weapon. There's nothing you can do to harm..." She was cut off as a bullet pierced straight through one of her wings, shattering its metallic feathers. Her head came next, bursting like a ripe melon in a shower of black oil.
"Eat that, you crazy bitch!" Dario heard Louis celebrate from the balcony, the large-caliber rifle still hot and smoking in his hands.
Silence reigned for a few seconds, until...
"Quickly, the core! We must separate it from the body!" Captain Grace screamed, breaking the quiet. Dario swore he had never heard her so distressed.
Miller was already beside the monster, using his combat knife in an attempt to pierce the casing... but to no avail. Dario followed suit, striking with his club instead, but still with no result.
‘Fuck.’ He cursed mentally, as he kept hitting.
‘Shit.’ The creature’s head was already regenerating with a grey substance... nanites?! Then he saw it. The yellow cylinder... and the stinger.
He grabbed the enemy's weapon and used it on her own chest plate, surprising the others. In a few seconds a hole began to appear, and it kept on growing. A small light shone through, a battery like object directly on the center, covered in blood red tissue.
'What the fuck? She has flesh inside?!'
"That's it! Pull it out!" The captain screamed behind him.
Not wasting any more time, Dario reached out with his hand and grasped the core, pulling with all his strength. Slowly, it came loose, claw-like appendages sticking out from it. With a final tug the core came free, and Dario raised it in his hand, screaming like a victorious madman. This was too much stress for one day.
"I guess this is what I get for being too overconfident..." 'Wait, that voice.'
He lowered the core to his chest as the others came to surround him, all of them now breathing sighs of relief.
"You talk?!" He asked, his eyes widening.
The core’s claws squirmed around itself and his hands, trying to get a grip on something. They weren’t sharp enough to cause actual harm, though.
"Uhm... yeah, I don't exactly know how that works, but yes, I can speak. At least this way I don't need oil..." The yellow light in its center shifted and gestured like a real eye.
"Don’t think too much about it, kid. These things defy any law of reality." Grace, approaching him, said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Good job back there, even I was panicking."
"Thanks..." Dario replied, watching as the core looked at her own body, now lifeless and no longer regenerating. "Shouldn't we destroy the core now?"
The fleshy amalgamation turned to him with a cheerful, blinking eye.
"Yes! Please, kill me!"
"No." Miller’s voice cut sharp, turning her down. "I don’t know exactly how it works, but if we kill her now, she’ll be released from her body and come back in a new one." He glared at the core. "I’ve seen her kind before, and no matter how many times we killed them, they always returned. We’re better off keeping her in a cage and deprive the Enemy of one of her 'prophets.'"
"Oh, someone’s salty." The core spoke out mockingly. "Tell me, mustache man, did I kill someone you knew? Perhaps a friend? A loved one..."
Without hesitation, Miller took the core from Dario’s hands and punched it, painful groans coming from her afterward.
‘I guess she can still feel pain.’ Dario noted to himself.
"I’ll take this thing to the station, Captain. It won’t leave my sight." The sergeant declared, with Grace nodding after little consideration.
"Alright, Sergeant. I’ll stay behind, we need to treat the injured and count the dead..." Her gaze dropped slightly. "We’ll report to the Council tomorrow."
Miller saluted her, giving his farewell and left shortly after, but not before tying the core’s claws with a cord and stuffing it into a nearby sack. The dremon’s complaints and threats could still be heard even from inside.
"You too, Private. You and that sniper are free for the day."
"Thanks, Captain. I could use the rest." He gave a half-hearted attempt at a military salute, and headed up to the balcony, where his friend was waiting for him.
"Nice shot, but I could have used it much earlier, asshole." Dario smiled as they high-fived.
"Well, dickhead, I was busy pushing those fools off the balcony." His smile faltered. "What drove them to act like that...?" Dario knew the answer, just madness. But... in the end, they had all been part of the colony, and there were already few of them left. Their deaths were... regrettable. Dario ended up nudging him lightly.
"Hey, don't worry. We're still here, and the cap just gave us the rest of the day off. Let's go home."
"Yeah..."
They left their equipment behind for the others to collect and just before stepping out of the area, Dario caught a glimpse of Grace speaking, stern-faced, with the other tied drone, the one that had been about to become a... what had the sarge called it? Right, a ghoul. And why did it seem like... she knew who they were?
Whatever the case, they exited the tunnels and soon arrived at the main elevators, three industrial-sized machines once used to move ore from the depths of the mine to the surface. Now, they were only used to transport people up and down the six levels of the Mine. Along the way, Dario noticed that Lou had been right, there were more posters bearing the Solver symbol around the slums. Once rumors of the fight spread, this place is going to get really tense...
Shortly after, they got off on Level 3, not the best, but definitely not the worst. People here at least had access to single-family apartments, often carved into the stone walls. His family had been given a living space here thanks to his father’s position in the MSF, and now, because of his own. He knew it was just the Council’s way of keeping the security forces happy, and it wasn’t fair to everyone else... but at least his siblings had the best they could hope for.
"Hey, want to go have a drink at Daisy's? I bet she’d love hearing how brave we were today." Louis said, smirking as he threw an arm around his friend's shoulder... with no little difficulty given his taller frame.
"Seriously... you waste no opportunity. You know she has a boyfriend, right?"
"Yeees... but Adam’s a dick. Everyone knows it. It’s only a matter of time before she’s free, and I want to show her the man I really am." He emphasized his point by flexing his slim arms. “...or that I can be.” The young man added.
"Sureee, noodle boy. Just don’t be a horndog around her. And besides, don’t talk about today with anyone, things are already hot on the lower levels. Especially with Daisy, her father’s still the elected representative of the Commerce Guild."
"Okay, captain." He responded with a mock military salute. "So... want to go?"
"Sorry, bud. Today was... rough. I’m heading straight home."
"Ohh, that’s too bad. I’ll have a beer in your honor."
Small talk followed, until, a couple of streets ahead, the pair of friends parted ways.
It didn’t take long before he reached his apartment, located in the farthest area of the level, one of the last to be expanded. An old lady, her hair white as snow and tied in a bun, sat reading a book on a comfy bench right next to the adjacent apartment.
"Good evening, Mrs. Jones. How was your day?" Dario greeted his friend's grandma. The woman looked up, adjusting her glasses, and a smile spread across her face.
"Oh, Dario, my boy, it's good to see you. Is it already so late? I've been reading this piece for so long, I lost track of time." She stretched her arms, old bones cracking. "How was the patrol today? And where’s that lazy grandson of mine? I hope he isn't in trouble?"
"Not at all. He was actually a great help today. It was kind of stressful, though, so he went to Daisy's bar to relax. I'm just too tired to follow this time." He laughed lightly, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Uhm, I bet he just wanted a chat with that girl... as if I didn’t raise him." Mrs. Jones said with a huff. The door to her apartment opened, and a drone dressed in a modest butler outfit stepped out. A dark-colored wig of short hair covered his metallic head, and his white eyes glowed softly as he carried a steaming cup. Dario had only recently noticed the faint lines above the drone's digital eyes, was it due to age?
"Your tea, madam. Be careful, it’s still hot." The drone said gently, handing her the cup. Then, noticing Dario, he smiled. "Greetings, Mr. Novera. I hope today was uneventful."
Despite what had happened... Lou had been right; he did have a soft spot for Charles.
He still remembered when he first arrived here as a teenager. Charles would keep an eye on him and his siblings while they played with the Jones’ kid. And even after his parents’ deaths, it had been Charles who cooked for them for months, until Dario learned to do it himself.
He didn’t trust drones, just this morning, he’d nearly died at their hands. But... programming or not, he was glad Charles was here.
"I wish that was the case." He replied. "But it’s over now... thanks."
The drone nodded and sat beside Mrs. Jones.
"I’ll leave you to your book, ma’am." The duo gave him a warm farewell and continued chatting as he walked toward his own home.
He opened the door, rarely ever needing to fully lock it, and stepped inside, a homely ambiance welcoming him. Turning to the mirror that greeted all visitors, he looked himself up and down.
At twenty-six, his face belonged to someone much older. Not just because of the full beard he’d inherited from his father, or the tired, light brown eyes, but because of the deep bags beneath them, and the marks on his skin that should have been foreign to someone not yet in his thirties.
At least his short, messy auburn hair still looked good, even if unkempt. But what he disliked the most was his pale skin, not because of the tone itself, but because it reminded him of what he’d lost. He used to be somewhat tanned but years of living underground had turned everyone into ghosts, most needing daily vitamin D pills just to survive.
It served as a reminder of his situation.
‘Whatever.’
"¡Estoy en casa!" (I'm home!) He announced, but no one answered.
"¡Hola! ¿Hay alguien ahí?" (Hello! Is anyone there?). He moved towards the living room, finding his little brother half asleep on the couch with the TV still on, the cartoon on it probably not the one he had started watching before falling asleep.
"Hey..." He said sleepily with just one eye open.
"¿Qué pasa, campeón? ¿Tan dura fue la escuela hoy?" (What's wrong, champ? Was school that hard today?). He sat next to his brother, noticing some dirty plates on the table and a scale.
"La señorita Rocroi nos ha mandado hacer ocho vueltas alrededor del campo de recreo en gimnasia, sin parar... pero al menos me ha dejado correr a mí también hoy." (Miss Rocroi made us run eight laps around the school yard, without stopping... but at least she let me run this time, too.) The kid smiled thinking of that fact; many times, he hadn't even been able to play or run with the other kids, but it had been so long since he had serious problems with his condition.
"Bueno, así crecerás grande y fuerte como tu hermano mayor..." (Well, that way you will grow big and strong like your big bro...) Dario smiled, but his gaze fell on the scale once more. "¿Lo has medido todo bien? ¿Y tu nivel de azúcar?" (Did you measure everything right? And your sugar level?).
"Ya sabes que sí... lo he hecho casi toda mi vida." (You know I did... I have done it almost all my life) He sighed.
"Sí, solo quiero estar seguro." (Yes, I just want to be sure.) Dario lightly nudged his shoulder. "¿Dónde está tu hermana?" (Where's your sister?) He asked as he stood up.
"En su cuarto, como siempre..." (In her room, as always...) He slowly closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep.
Dario sighed and gave him one last look. Daniel, probably the only person in the house with any spirit left, likely because, at age 11, he had never known anything other than what they had.
He shared their mother’s reddish hair, which he kept in finger-length curly strands, and small freckles adorned his cheeks, contrasting with his pale skin. He deserved better... especially being diabetic. That damn disease had barely been a concern for centuries before the Collapse, not just treatable, but curable. But now, they lacked the know-how and instruments necessary for that. They’d gone back a millennium in treatment, relying on insulin shots provided by the colony’s only drug manufacturer. At least things were stable now.
He moved toward the hallway and the other rooms, stopping at the closed door at the end. Posters reading KEEP OUT and similar warnings were plastered all over it. Seriously, she just turned eighteen last month and she’s already a walking angsty stereotype. To be fair, their relationship had grown tense after he joined the MSF.
He knocked on the door. "Laura, ¿estás ahí?" (Laura, you in there?) No answer, but that was to be expected lately. If she didn’t want to see him, she’d have already told him to sod off.
He opened the door and found his sister at her computer, seemingly engrossed in the game on the screen. TF2, apparently. He used to spend hours on it, years ago... still kind of amazing that Gabe’s last will a thousand years ago had been to keep the servers running ad infinitum.
She kept her dark hair in a bob-like cut that reached her shoulders, the same color as their dad’s, and had blue eyes like their mother’s, reflecting now off the screen. She was also a tall girl, as most in their family were, standing at 1.77 meters (5'8"). Not quite his 1.92 meters (6'3"), but nearly the tallest girl on the colony. That title still belonged to Captain Grace herself. Her skin, like his, had turned pale after years of underground life.
"¿Estás ganando, hermana?" (Are you winning, sis?) He joked, leaning against the wall.
"¿En serio? ¿Ya empiezas con las bromas de padre?" (Seriously? Dad jokes already?) She groaned, giving him only a quick glance.
"¿Te han hecho hablar, no?" (They made you talk, right?)
"Lo que sea." (Whatever.)
Silence settled again.
"¿Qué tal va la preparación de la graduación? Es este mes, ¿no?" (How goes the preparation for graduation? It's this month, right?) The colony maintained a basic education system. Everyone attended school until age 16, followed by two optional years of specialized training in various subjects. Laura had chosen that path, eager to study electronics. Although she'd earned excellent grades and even a couple of recommendations, she’d become increasingly disinterested as of late.
"Ni lo sé, ni me importa." (Don't know, don't care.) she said in a dry tone.
"¿Qué? ¿Por qué? Es un momento único en la vida." (What? Why? It's a unique moment in your life.) His own graduation hadn’t been that great, but at least he, Lou, and a couple of friends had the time of their lives that night. Waking up hungover on Level 4 had been something else.
She groaned loudly, shutting off her computer mid-match and spinning around to face him.
"¡Porque es una tontería, no hay nada que celebrar! He aprendido a usar máquinas y utensilios que ni siquiera existen en este jodido planeta. Todo lo que nos espera es agonizar y morirnos de asco en este agujero... esta cárcel. Solo porque putos dremons nos cazarían fuera de la colonia. ¡Y ni siquiera sabemos si siguen ahí!" (Because it's bullshit, there's nothing to celebrate! I've learned to use machines and tools that don’t even exist on this goddamn planet. All that awaits us is suffering and dying of boredom in this hole... this prison. Just because fucking dremons would hunt us down outside the colony. And we don’t even know if they’re still out there!)
She was panting by the end of it, clearly filled with long-suppressed frustration. Dario sighed. In a way, he agreed with her. But he couldn’t afford to be hopeless, he must not lose hope. Not while his family still needed him.
"Lo sé... créeme, lo entiendo." (I know... believe me, I understand.) His sister looked up at him. "Pero cualquiera que diga conocer el futuro miente o está loco, nada está marcado en piedra. Y mientras tanto, seguimos pudiendo disfrutar de los buenos momentos que tenemos, tan pocos como son. Sé que suena a cursilada barata pero es cierto; un día de estos saldremos a la superficie siendo libres. Qué cojones, algún día de estos volveremos a ver nieve." (Anyone who claims to know the future is lying or going mad, nothing is set in stone. Meanwhile, we can still enjoy the good moments we have, as few as they are. I know it sounds like a cheap, cheesy thing to say, but one day we’ll go out there again as free people. Hell, one day we’ll even see snow again.)
He laughed at the last part. Snow... He had almost forgotten what it felt like. His sister looked down at the floor and murmured.
"Dani jamás ha tocado nieve..." (Dani has never touched snow...) She sighed. "No estoy convencida pero... gracias." (I'm not convinced, but... thanks.) A soft smile touched her lips.
"Siempre estoy aquí para los dos." (I'm always here for you two.) He said with a toothy grin. "En todo caso... me voy a la cama pronto, ha sido un día largo." (Anyway... I'm going to bed early, today was long day.) He began to leave the room.
"Sí que te ves fatal. ¿Ocurrió algo interesante hoy?" (You do look awful. Did anything interesting happen?) She wondered aloud, leaning forward with curiosity.
He turned to her one last time.
"Podrías decir que sí, pero ya está solucionado." (You could say that, but it's been dealt with already.)
"Bueno... descansa entonces." (Well... sweet dreams then.) She turned her computer back on.
Dario soon reached his room, cleaner than it used to be. Whether that was because he spent much less time there now or because he’d become more responsible... he liked to think it was the latter. Books lined one side; an old, broken console sat on the other, along with various mementos he’d collected over his life.
One stood out above the rest; a glass formation, black as night, obsidian. He’d taken that piece from Iron 4, just before they were forced to evacuate that exoplanet as well. He had been barely eight or nine back then, Laura just a newborn, and Dani not even a thought.
He missed that place even more than Earth sometimes. The dark landscape, made almost entirely of the same gleaming stone, had been something else; cold, alien, and yet unforgettable, beautiful in its own way.
After taking a shower and slipping into some comfortable clothes, he got into bed... and let his mind wander.
‘How the fuck did a dremon get in?’
‘How many cultists are left?’
‘Is this all there is for us?’
‘Whatever... I'm tired.’