Gifted by the divine.
The man's voice echoed with firm conviction.
What does he mean—I'm not done yet??
Injecting Mashia with a brighter, fruitful, golden medication that had failed before—pushing it into the vein near his elbow—
And the decay obediently halted.
"I-I'm supposed to be dead. How did t-that work?" Mashia rasped weakly.
"My name is Lisan." the priest whispered softly, covertly placing a cybernetic core into the cavity where Mashia's back had burst open.
"You are dead. Right here. But today, you are reborn.
"Mercury."
"A man of message, forged by the stars."
"Stars, huh. The colorful lights up there?"
The priest smirked, looked up, "They are those 'lights.' Their grace guides me when none heard your cries. I can't see them, but I know they're there."
"Good choice of me coming here, because you saw glimmers . . . nobody ever does. I owe it to you."
Suddenly, the core activated.
Replacing Mashia's decayed lungs, heart, and other damaged organs.
A braid-like wire extended from his hair, hanging like a dreadlock.
He died. Now he is . . . a Replicant—a specialized cybernetic enhancement forged to replace failed organs.
His skin rejuvenated, scars of wires forming across him, marking severe tissue damage.
His organs replaced, enhanced.
His mind cleared like dawn. Rebooted. A new being, artificial.
Mercury was now machine . . . with conscience.
Looking inside the car of carnage, the priest is skeptical. "Did you get your antidote from those black boxes?"
Mercury nodded softly.
"The medication only works when cold. That is at fault. I'm guessing they didn't tell you."
"It would've been wise to read between the lines." Lisan rubbed his chin.
"But listen.. I know that toxin. Studied countless, but people still perish. That toxin is not possible. The 'Sklaves' you see your enemy are only users; the supplier is horror beyond your imagination." He stared daringly through his sunglasses.
"W-why would the lord Zaleth allow this, F-father?" Mercury desperately stressed.
"Please, call me Lisan. But I believe this divine Zaleth isn't all good or all bad, as religious philosophies argue, but rather neutral. Creating life and death, but is neither."
"Amoral. The idea of good or bad is superficial." Lisan glanced down at Mercury.
"None factor that one must be in-between to see all spectrums. Free will is illusion humans took from others to make belief of fantasy to weak."
The desert winds no longer howled.
They hummed, like a lullaby formed before sound had a name.
"Off the ground, Mercury."
Mercury jumped up gracefully, his wired braid flowing in the quiet gusts; however, the cybernetics didn't seem normal.
"You saw them.. are you a 'Seeker'?" Lisan asked boldly.
Mercury shook his head.
"Checks out. Your blood is red.."
"Lisan, I have questions, Nothing makes sense."
"I'll explain momentarily Mercury."
"More importantly, you must know.. 'death' led me here."
"Not now, not next the next cycle or after. I know something is coming."
"Something shreds our ideals."
"A monster far worse, currently slumbering. One day . . . It will surge."
The purple-violet sky applauded.
They stared.
Into infinity.
"Soon, it will come."
"Requiem."
"Realms forgot beauty." Lisan lectured.
"We will remind them."
In the silence that followed, Mercury breathed, not as man, but as memory reborn anew.
. . .
Ten cycles passed like dying stars beneath masks of skies, brief flashes of war, peace, and silence crowd the clouds with ash.
Below, an ocean so vast bellows in jealousy of having to stare at the stars which raised far past it.
Now, only the spiteful waves knows their names.
An azure ocean, once clouded by unseen stars of night, dreaming of nothing but conquest.
A silence so abundant even the stars would drown. Where sea and sky bleed into each other, a lone ship drifts upon the indistinguishable plain.
A craft of naturalist, and cybernetic construct strolls onward.
Far from the coalition, or any realm for that matter.
Time is told by waves, not a clock.
A pitch-dark night screams louder than the most illuminating day. The leisurely waves, by an inexcusable rocking, as only freedom clouds your thoughts.
Where a dark beach is eons away, the stars are all to look up to.
Malik stood near the bow, one hand lightly resting on the cold steel rail.
Never knowing the grasp of land, solely the wave of a ship that has fought over a hundred forgotten battles.
He's now seventeen with no goal in sight, no cherished memories, only pondering staring at the reflection of the ocean. An epiphany as one may call it.
I'm missing something.
Something that made me.
A voice ruptured his thought.
"Hey Malik, new recruit on board today, be wary while I interview em'."
Rumbled Captain Cyrus, strolling heavily across the ship with such trust that he sees the ship as home.
His rough voice displays the years of calling orders to having casual conversation with a boy he treasures.
Cyrus slightly flinches when the boy makes a slow-turn like a gear to face him.
Malik only gives a swift but respectful nod as he truly ponders if there is more past this seemingly infinite sea.
This steel military ship, it's all he knows, but what is it now that makes him want to think about life on deck?
He has never found it daunting or even questionable until now.
His mind only drifts to the thought that if he resides, the sea will only swallow him. He snaps out of it, because he knows this is all he has, he can't let it go.
In a lower deck, the rough captain stares with sea-like eyes at the recruit for the marines.
He opens his crusted lips on top tawny skin with a stubbled silver beard and a long scar passing vertically past his left eye.
A faintly bronze-colored young girl, possibly a year older than Malik with short jet-black hair, slowly raises her head to face the captain. She stares with her dark eyes, ominously reading anybody. A stare that feels like she could see right through anybody.
"Name?" Captain Cyrus asked.
"Kaya, sir!" she answered steadily but firmly.
The inside of the room was detailed with a long table almost reaching both ends of the room, an immeasurable stack of paper on both sides of the desk, and a form with the resume of Kaya and all her qualifications. It states that she is eighteen years of age, Blood type A, five feet three inches tall.
The cold air condition fills the room as the captain takes a slight glance at the resume and gives a shivering stare to Kaya again, and asks:
"Before we begin, do you have any questions?"
"Yes!" Kaya responds quickly with compassion.
"I've got a question: Who's the guy behind you?"
The captain's expression becomes staggered as he takes a slow turn behind him to reveal from the back of the room his co-captain and nephew, Lieutenant Samir.
Samir has a tough-gruff like appearance with a more youthful appearance than Cyrus, but the similarities are apparent.
His low haircut with dark hair, and dark skin contrasted with his large brown eyes and strong but gentle posture emulate how well the captain has nurtured him to be an exceptional marine.
The captain murmurs:
"She's good . . ."
As he takes focus with that same cold stare with upturned eyebrows that speak a lifetime of tribulation in the marines.
He enunciates while fixing his voice as he knows the asset she will be to the crew.
"That is my nephew, Lieutenant Samir. He will take after me once I retire by summer."
He readjusts his position in his throne-like chair to a more attentive posture showing his interest in Kaya's spatial awareness.
This girl, this girl . . . my nephew was almost unsensible, yet she was able to see him as clear as day, even I had trouble sensing him, yet she does it effortlessly. Who is she?
Kaya interrupts the captain's train of thought by asserting:
"My second question: Who are the crew members on this ship?"
The Captain turns his head up to see that he senses something endearing about Kaya yet so eerie.
Before answering her question, he takes one last quick glance at her resume.
Skimming through the long lines of high school accomplishments and connections, one piece of information caught his eye.
It read: "Trial Status: Success from Harmony."
A trial's existence is normally locked to public awareness, however, of the millions of applicants to the Marines, there has yet to be a successful trial status in years.
The captain can't help but make an ear-to-ear grin with his gray beard and dry lips, as if his youth had been granted right back to him.
He delays his answer out of enthusiasm.
"I'll show you the crew members momentarily; however, there's something I'm more interested in about you."
Kaya leaned in, attentive to listen to the old captain's words.
The Captain holds the paper firmly and reads it before making his remark.
"You're from the people of Ishkana—the realm of Harmony?"
"Yeah . . ."
Cyrus peered closely at her, ". . . Interesting."
He cleared his throat, "On your application, it states that you have a successful trial. Not many people are capable of attaining this, even hearing about this concept is alien to the masses because it is confidential by military personnel."
The Captain coldly adds to his statement.
"I've heard that those that have completed such trials in success cross a deep path that is beyond comprehension to my memory. If you have any of those, please demonstrate them to me; I'd like to see it."
The Captain then looks upward to the grinning girl that holds a thousand secrets waiting to spill out like a waterfall.
Kaya tenses up and asks the captain after a second of thought.
"Well, Captain, if you're so interested in what I do, then think of anything, and I mean anything. I'll read your mind."
She adjusts herself back in her chair with the confidence of a pretentious critic.
Captain Cyrus scoffs, playing along with her "joke" by thinking of his favorite sport.
Hah, this little girl won't ever guess that I'm thinking of Tagline!
Kaya giggles to herself, composes, glances upward with bright amber eyes, and asks:
"So who's your favorite team?"
Cyrus's eyes bulge out of his head similar to a cartoon, only with more happiness than shock.
He cackles as he could not believe what he has just heard at this moment.
"AHHAH, I can't believe it!"
This girl is something alright.
Noticing his cup of coffee on the table he hadn't finished, he decided to drink it as he grins to himself, whilst closing his eyes.
Kaya adds to his thought in which she barged in.
"Oh yeah . . . I'm something alright."
Cyrus opens one eye and keeps a keen look at Kaya's innocent pretty face whilst he slowly puts down the cup.
He comically gulps down the coffee that immediately boosts him with a zap of his prime energy when he was a captain that yelled louder than the roars of the sea.
He takes a second, reaches out his hand that has faced war.
"Welcome aboard, Private Kaya."
He smiles at her with an endearing grin that is almost childlike, showing remnants of his fallen youth fighting for its place.
Lieutenant Sark puts his hand on Captain Cyrus's shoulder and comments:
"Looks like we found another member for our crew."
Samir pats his uncle's back then gets back to his duties as a lieutenant.
Captain Cyrus nods with a smile at his nephew and gets back to his business as Captain.
"Now, it's about time you meet the crew!"
Slowly standing up from his chair, the strong yet elder captain points to the door to assist Kaya on where to go.
Kaya swiftly strides to the large steel door that a rhino couldn't break through as she waits for hiss next instructions.
"Now Kaya, I'm just an old man, I think it's helpful that I get my young son to tour you across the ship."
The captain adjusts his posture and prepares to yell Malik's name but is stunned to see Malik right in front of him in a flash.
"Can I help you guys?"
Malik states with energy in his voice as if he could run a marathon and back.
"Ahh Malik, yes . . . please tour this new recruit across the ship, she's one of us now ya know."
The captain mumbles as he slurs his words that were barely understandable.
His eyes quickly widened in ambivalence at his son who had grown . . . different.
Malik instantly focuses almost robotically then straightens himself and gives Kaya a nodding grin with shut eyes as he puts his hand out for a handshake.
"I'm Malik, nice to meet you."
Kaya gives back a grin and shakes Malik's hand firmly with respect as she responds:
"Hey hey hey! My name's Kaya, also nice to meet you!"
"So uhm . . . oh yeah, let's explore the ship, rookie!"
Malik asserts but playfully as he is fond of her attitude.
Kaya giggles and punches his shoulder playfully.
"Oh, we'll see who the real rookie is once I kick your ass, Ha!"
Malik gives a wholesome smile as he points to the metal door leading to the main deck.
The door is a shiny sea-like metal, with a staircase leading to two floors with rooms with wooden framing down to the main hall inside the ship with crimson-black tiled floorboards.
High-rise wooden tables along with padded maroon chairs all around the hall will make one think it is the bar of a cruise more than a marine ferry.
Ethereal chandeliers that consist of radiant lemon with a slight cerulean incandescence illuminate the room for rows on end.
The room emits a welcoming presence as if it greets one with open arms.
"Well, this is the main hall. Looks like a ballroom, right? I think Kamil is here so that's where we'll find him."
Malik affirms his point and dominantly steps into the room.
He then sits on the handrail and strides down the stairs like a skater to the bottom.
"You coming?"
He asks as Kaya examines the room.
"Yeah, don't worry about me."
Kaya confirms as she steps back and makes a huge leap of faith in the air to land right next to Malik.
Malik widens his siren eyes as he is impressed by her sudden daringness.
The two of them step into the middle of the hall with all the chandeliers lighting their surreal illuminating colors upon them like a spotlight in an auditorium.
"This is where the crew's rooms are, you'll have yours momentarily. However, there are ten rooms, but there's an eleventh room that the captain strictly forbids us from ever entering." Malik adds.
Kaya looks around the room and sees the wooden floorboards on the second floor above them and the intricate detailing on the handrails with zig-zag brandings, pondering as she just realized what he said.
"Huh, wait, where's the room?"
He points to the eerie room that looks as if it were formed by the most adept constructors with reinforced steel bars and a huge lock on it that requires a code of a specific audio message to unlock it.
The door leaks a maroon aura, with the consistency of liquid nitrogen, only with a blood-like appearance.
"That one right there," pointing at the room answering her inquiry.
Kaya has an epiphany and is intimidated by the room.
She knows by intuition that whatever is in that demonic room can be no good, then stares at Malik with her piercing large brown eyes.
He notices her long stare and the both of them make strong eye contact as they are both in awe of what could be in that room.
Kaya's eyes glimmered amber-gold as she reached out into the abyss—using her mind-reading ability on Malik, as she still locks eyes with him with the gold of the chandeliers reflecting in her iris.
Stunned, Kaya can't find one coherent thought in his mind.
What? I can't read him. It's like there's an infinite number of thoughts fogging his head.
His mind is similar to a cascading waterfall of thoughts in the summer.
Elegant, yet ubiquitous.
What is he?