Chapter Text
The first thing the man in the pod feels is pain, a dull, throbbing pain in the back of his head as his vision slowly returns to him, obscured by a freezing fog that fills the small container he's currently trapped in. Trying to move, still barely able to lift his arm from his side, he struggles feebly to try and break out of this cage, to no avail.
A mechanical whirring sound floods his ears, and something clicks, something moves, and the frosted glass screen that covers him slowly retracts, the clouds of fog within spilling forth into the room beyond. Blinded by the newfound light, he squints vaguely at the blurry shapes that stand before him, three silhouettes anything but distinct.
"He's awake, I think".
A male voice comes from the leftmost shadow, bigger and bulkier than the others. As the man's vision slowly fades into normality, he can see the middle person adopt a pensive stance, perhaps the one running the show?
The man in the pod coughs violently, trying to force himself to stand, to take a step out of his containment and face the newcomers. Seeing his attempt at motion, the man on the left, now more clearly visible as bearded giant wearing dark glasses, moves quickly to steady the awakening man.
"Easy there, being defrosted can't have done any wonders for your health".
The voice reassures the man, as steady and calm as it seems. With the newcomer's help, he's able to stagger to his feet, taking his first steps out of what is evidently some kind of cold sleep contraption. Directly facing him is the scowling face of a Feline woman in medical garb, who it does seem is the one in charge here.
"Welcome back to the land of the living, Doctor".
Her tone is as cold as her expression. The so-called 'Doctor', which he presumes is a title and not his actual name, can't possibly comprehend the reason for such treatment.
Or rather he can't comprehend much at all beyond his current state. The man seems to have forgotten everything altogether, conspicuous voids where his memories should be, a total blank on how he got here and zero clue who he even is.
"I'm...sorry...d-do I know you?" he manages to splutter out half of a disjointed sentence.
The Feline woman draws a very deliberate breath.
"So you don't remember anything, do you?"
The Doctor nods slowly, head still spinning a little with the sudden rushing realisation that he's totally empty.
"Where...am I?"
Taking a glance around, all the Doctor can see is disused machinery, grey walls, barely maintained generators he's amazed still function, and his alleged rescuers. The third one is a young girl, a Cautus from the looks of it, nervously looking all about the room as if she's scanning for threats. The large man wears the garb of a soldier, a rifle and some kind of shield stowed safely on his back.
"Welcome to Phoenix Point, or what's left of it..." replies the soldier, "the first and last line of defence for humanity against any and all threats!"
The Feline clears her throat loudly and the man awkwardly steps back, scratching the back of his head. Luckily, the Doctor has recovered enough of his physical capacity to stand unaided now.
"To avoid confusing our subject any more, I shall take over from here..." she sighs.
"To answer the questions you obviously have, you are the world's foremost scientific expert on the Pandoran Mist, an ecological disaster currently ravaging the Earth. Obviously you won't remember any of that expert knowledge right away, but with a little time you may recover some of it. This base, and by extension the organisation we represent, is the Phoenix Project, tasked with combating the effects of the Mist, the Pandoravirus that spreads with it, and the monstrous Pandoran creatures it creates..."
The Doctor is half paying attention to her, half still reeling from awakening with no memories. Trying to make eye contact with the soldier for a rescue from this verbal barrage, all he gets in response is a resigned shrug, as if this is an everyday occurrence. The woman continues to speak, oblivious to this silent exchange.
"To that end, we have awakened you from cryogenic suspension, but I must warn you...the world outside these walls is not a friendly one. The Mist and the monsters that follow in its wake have driven us to the brink of extinction even as they have heralded staggering new scientific advances, and we are...for lack of a better term, running out of options."
Before she can follow up with a second expository bombardment, a rusty door at the other end of the room is slammed open, and another man dressed in the same combat uniform as the soldier sprints in. His face is obscured by a bandana and visor, and his Sarkaz horns protrude through holes in a wide-brimmed hat.
"Not to interrupt or anything, but we aren't alone in here!"
As if on cue, unnatural sounds can be heard rapidly approaching from the corridor he's just entered from. A horrific combination of slithering and stomping footfalls, accompanied by the rattling battle cry of an unseen abomination, echoing down the decrepit halls. The horrendous screeching and clattering approaches with worrying speed, and before anyone can react, the wall to the right collapses in and the nightmare is revealed.
Eight feet of hybrid monster, a twisted amalgam of human and crustacean, encrusted with filth and barnacles and with a viciously snapping pincer on the end of a single spindly arm howls in fury as it lunges towards the newcomer.
'Arthron'
The Doctor isn't sure what vestige of a memory in the back of his scrambled brain triggered that word association, and right now he's not especially worried, considering his body is moving on autopilot, dashing towards the seemingly doomed man before the beast has even begun its swing. As the world seems to move in slow motion, the Doctor's hand reaches out and grabs the man by one arm, roughly pulling him back, away from the attacker.
The razor-edged pincer misses him by inches, both him and the Doctor tumbling backwards into the room, and as the crab man wings up for another strike, a lance of dark energy tinted red and black pierces cleanly through its corrupted heart, hurling it back and bisecting it cleanly in the middle. The Cautus girl stands resolute, hands outstretched and crackling with barely contained power. The apprehension in her eyes is gone, replaced by a quiet steel.
Staggering to his feet, helped up by the man he just snatched from the jaws of death, the Doctor coughs again, his body perhaps not having been quite ready for such exertion at a short notice.
"Coulda sworn I was well ahead of it...thanks man, that was too close..."
The Doctor gives an affirming nod as the Sarkaz steps back and scans the surroundings. The Feline woman, the scientist, makes eye contact with the Doctor. Something in those eyes is a little different, a little less cold, maybe because of what she just witnessed?
"There's still something in there, then?" she ask with a single raised eyebrow. The Doctor shrugs in response.
"Not just gonna...stand there and watch..." he manages to croak out, still breathing heavily from the sudden exertion. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches the hint of a small smile from the Cautus girl. The Feline turns to the Sarkaz.
"Are there more?"
The Sarkaz man shakes his head.
"We cleared out the rest of them I think, but that one was some kinda weird runner..."
"The speed of evolution seems to be increasing" murmurs the scientist, clearly lost in thought. With her otherwise occupied, the bearded soldier steps up and puts one hand on the Doctor's shoulder to steady him.
"Easy, Doc, you did good work there" he says "I guess introductions are in order, no? I'm Ace, the guy you just pulled out of the fire is Scout, and this is Amiya" he gestures to the Cautus girl on giving that last name, who offers a small wave in response.
"Good to have you back, Doctor..." she says, offering a kind expression. The reassurance sends more thoughts spiralling in the Doctor's head.
'Good to have me back? I hardly count in this state, do I? Not quite sure what you're expecting from a man who can't even remember his own name, let alone anything he's meant to be a so-called expert on'
Still, he's not one for crushing the hopes of people he's just met, so he smiles through the confusion.
"Good to be as uh...close to back as I can be at the moment?"
That gets a small giggle out of her, so obviously he did something close enough to right. The Doctor offers an awkward smile back, before glancing away. As he does, he catches a glimpse of his own reflection in the defrosting screen of the cryo-pod.
To put it quite frankly, he looks awful. Despite having been allegedly in suspension, he has bags under his eyes that suggest a man who hasn't slept in weeks. His features are pale and gaunt, his white hair ragged and messy. The only part of him with any seeming life in it is the eyes, two dots of light in the shadow of this wreck of a man.
"Hey, you don't look that bad!" interjects Scout, going in for a playful shove before realising that's probably a terrible idea with an injured man and stopping himself. The Doctor just raises one eyebrow in response.
"Come on man, you're copying Dr. Kal'tsit now..." sighs Scout. The Feline scientist, presumably the notorious Dr. Kal'tsit, glares at him from across the room where she's conversing quietly with Ace.
Just a little, the Doctor is beginning to get the picture that she might not be the easiest person ever to work with...
Amiya, on the other hand, seems perfectly approachable, and a much better place to ask questions. Leaving Scout to check the systems on the suspension pod, the Doctor takes a tentative step over some exposed cables to greet her.
"Doctor? We won't be here long, Dr. Kal'tsit just needs to check a few things before we move on" says Amiya with that small smile again, "oh, and you'll need a full check-up at some point as well..."
A few minutes pass as the Doctor and Amiya awkwardly make something of a conversation before Kal'tsit wanders over, clearly finished with whatever she was occupied with.
"Since everything seems to be in order, we can move to somewhere a little more comfortable, perhaps? The rest of the base should be cleaned out by now".
'You know, I still don't even know where I am after she tried to explain it...really hope someone else can put it in more comprehensible terms'.
Realising that it was time to move on to what was hopefully some more answers, the Doctor follows the others out of the chamber he'd awakened in, stepping carefully over the bisected remains of the Pandoran by the entrance. Amiya walks alongside him, her expression trying to offer him a little reassurance in what is quite clearly a bad time.
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With a surprisingly quick medical check-up now complete, the Doctor is escorted to the command room of Phoenix Point, accompanied by Amiya. Dust has been cleaned hurriedly off of every surface, every disused console, the entire place miraculously saved from being striped for parts by raiders by its robust security locks. In the centre of the room, Scout is trying to jump-start the holographic command table with a portable generator, while a handful of soldiers in the same black and blue uniform drag crates of replacement parts into place.
"Yo, Doctor!"
A dark-haired Feline woman in a white version of the uniform strides confidently across the room, waving enthusiastically. Amiya waves back with one hand.
"You're runnin' things on the tactical side now, right?" asks the newcomer, "name's Blaze, I'm one of our frontliners!"
'Apparently so...I suppose I have to hope that tactics are something you can put down to muscle memory? I can't say I'm FEELING very tactically proficient right now'
Apparently oblivious to the Doctor's memory loss, Blaze continues to introduce the rest of the crew, including Scout and Ace, who the Doctor doesn't have the heart to point out he already knows.
An unlikely saviour arrives mere moments later in the form of the notorious Dr. Kal'tsit.
"Oh...you're getting to know people. I suppose that's as good a plan as any".
Her eyes aren't quite as icy as they were at their first meeting, but the Doctor can still tell she's keeping her distance for some reason or another.
"Figured I should at least talk to the people I'm meant to be commanding" replies the Doctor, trying to test the waves a little and get something of a feel for where to go next.
"Well, I'm glad you seem to be settling in at least!" chips in Amiya, seemingly ever the optimist. Kal'tsit raises one eyebrow momentarily but doesn't follow it up with any words.
"Right, we got some work to do, haven't we?"
Blaze's voice interrupts the Doctor's attempt to analyse the situation further with his limited information, followed by Ace and Scout stepping up to listen in. Deduction says that this is the core field team, some people who the Doctor had best get well acquainted with.
"Quite" says Kal'tsit, "we won't move under cover of night, for risk of an ambush, but starting tomorrow, you'll be scouting out the surrounding area more thoroughly".
Her eyes turn to the amnesiac tactician beside her.
"You'll be running things on the ground. Nothing too high risk I'm sure, but I'd like to think you can handle it without trouble?"
Is she testing him? What's the correct answer here? Does anyone here even know that he's lost his memories other than her?
"No problem at all, I'll make sure to bring everyone back safe and sound".
The Doctor goes for a fairly neutral response, just in case it WAS some secret test of character. The Feline scientist's face is as unreadable as ever as she nods in reply.
"Right! Well, now that's all organised, I'm gonna crash! Hopefully there's at least one dorm in here that's not a total wreck!"
Blaze shatters the silence as quickly as it descended, wandering off casually in search of rest and respite. Scout offers a friendly wave to the Doctor as he follows, and Ace, the last to leave, gives him a nod of approval.
It turns out, however, that Kal'tsit has a few more words for him before she too leaves.
"You didn't tell them".
"Was I supposed to? I doubt it'd fill them with confidence..."
"No, it wasn't...I'm just curious, that's all".
Her expression doesn't give anything away, except for a tiny change in her eyes, like something she didn't expect had suddenly come to pass.
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In his sleeping state, the amnesiac Doctor dreams of things he can't even comprehend.
At first, he's falling through a void filled with choking mist, the cries of unseen creatures ringing in his ears, before he finds himself on his feet, running through a ruined city, pursued by the noise of screeching monsters. Footsteps get louder behind him as he flees, but he can't turn around, he must keep running, and a cold hand grasps at his shoulder, pulling him back, into a cloud of that same foul mist, filling his lungs as he blacks out.
Seconds later he's conscious again, stood looking out over an alien landscape that stretches before him. The features of it twist and turn before his eyes, never staying the same for more than a few moments.
"Welcome to the future"
A voice he barely recognises as his own rings in his head, and the Doctor spins around to see if it's coming from anywhere, but he's alone on the raised platform, surrounded by that horrid mist, hanging low over the twisted ground disfigured by alien growths. Spires of rigid chitin tower over the land, and the shapes of Pandoran monsters can be faintly seen moving in the fog, gathering around the spires in some macabre ritual dance.
A different voice fills his ears then, the gentle voice of a woman he's sure he should recognise.
"But you'll change that, won't you?"
Can he? Is this even possible? He doesn't even know who he is, what any of this means, how he's meant to "change" an imagined future that's shoving itself into his brain as he sleeps, but maybe that's for him to figure out? If this means anything at all and isn't just the hallucinations of a man going mad...
Not long after those thoughts run through his head, and as the Doctor tries to get some semblance of a proper look at his surroundings, he jolts sharply awake, breathing heavily and covered in sweat. It's the morning now, according to the hastily placed digital clock next to his dishevelled mess of a bed. No room for luxury yet, Phoenix had to make do with the scraps they had to hand until things could be properly organised.
Rolling out of the bed and staggering to his feet, the Doctor hurriedly throws on the same grey shirt and trousers he'd been wearing the previous day, but before he can move to leave, there's a knock on the door. The half-asleep man opens it, only to see the Cautus girl from yesterday stood before him.
"Amiya?"
"Oh! Doctor, sorry if I woke you...Dr. Kal'tsit sent me to check on you, and to bring you this. She said it might help you find something?"
Her hands stretch out, offering him what seems to be some sort of garment. Unfolding it carefully, he takes in the sight of an elaborate black coat, seemingly proof against any and all weather, and with some manner of integrated hood and facemask for protection. Emblazoned on the back is a stylised pair of wings, bearing the name of the Phoenix Project proudly below them.
The Doctor can't help but think that something else used to sit in that place, but it's barely a fragment of a thought.
"Thank you, Amiya..." he says, offering a smile to the girl, who beams back at him, clearly glad to see he's in some kind of better state than yesterday.
"I'll be with you soon, just need to sort one last thing".
The Doctor unzips the front of his new coat and throws it over his shoulders, arms slotting naturally into the sleeves as if they were sized exactly for him. For a moment he considers the hood, the mask, but decides against it this time.
If he's meant to be a leader, he should show his face to the people who'll be following him.
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As rain falls on the battlefield, the Sarkaz woman treads over the corpses she's just finished making. The mangled remnants of a dozen Pandorans, blown to pieces by precise explosions, cover the soaked ground, running with a mix of rainwater and foul black blood. The monsters never even stood a chance, and neither did the humans they'd been attacking right as she struck, some group of low-life raiders caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. A couple had been already finished before she got there, too late to even hear the roar of her weapons and hope for a second that rescuers had arrived, but the ringleader got to experience just a moment of that before a carefully placed grenade ended his baseless speculation.
Most of the rest had fled in a mad panic, screaming about monsters, and people worse than monsters, but one is left cowering behind the heap of mangled crab-men as the white-haired woman approaches. Begging desperately for his life, he raises his hands and sobs, pleas for mercy spilling forth from his mouth.
The woman just tilts her head in confusion.
"You think I'm gonna kill you? Man, you're not important enough to be on my list, y'know?"
She flashes a frightening smile at the terrified bandit, who for some reason doesn't seem to believe her when she says he'll get to live to see another day.
"What, do you WANT me to shoot you or something? I don't normally do requests but I can probably spare a few rounds if you really insist~".
The man screams even louder and scrambles madly backwards, hands moving to push him to his feet before he turns and flees, howling at the top of his lungs in abject terror.
"Yeah, go on, run away from the big scary Sarkaz!" shouts the woman after him as he makes good his escape, "you're not worth wasting bullets on anyways!"
As he disappears into the treeline of a nearby wood, making a surprisingly speedy pace through the mud, the woman's expression changes to an altogether more pensive one.
"Good it didn't come to that...would've hated to have to waste expensive ammo..."
Her attention turns to the remains of the ringleader, the one she'd obliterated with her opening salvo. There's just enough left of him to identify as the man she came here to kill, one of the traitors, the betrayers, the scum that she's sworn herself to hunt down. Sifting through the tattered remnants of a belt pouch, she drags out a dirty patch, frayed at the edges where it'd been hurriedly torn off of something...and another, and another and another until she's holding a dozen old patches, some stained with long-dried blood, all bearing one word.
Babel.