In Eden's Shadow

by Amanda Churi

  “Something with their trackers… Apparently, only trusted members are given the correct sequences, but those patterns are what allowed the bunch to escape.”

  The sitter snorted. “Bunch? The fatality count is four thousand plus. How many more could have gotten out, especially if only the trusted know?”

  “Apparently enough. I heard that we lost a few dozen Elites trying to catch their fleet; they’re estimating several hundred are still on the loose.”

  “HEY! What are you doing lying around?!”

  The two soldiers muffled a startled grunt, jumping to attention as a man of smog and nightmares approached. He scowled, his sickly face contorting in unnatural ways as he cracked his fingers concealed under purple gloves one at a time. The red in his eyes was hot and burning, sizzling with invisible grease the longer he stared at his incompetent soldiers. They kept their chins up and eyes straight ahead, even though they would have given anything in the world to look away. “Typo, sir!”

  “That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” He tilted his purple hat to the side, veiling a single eye. “Now, I don’t need to tell you two gossipers to get back to work, do I?” His fangs revealed themselves as he turned his back, lightly tugging on his poisonous cape. “After all, if you are useless here, I will just assign you to the barren lands, and you can both have fun freezing your asses off looking for them.”

  The Haxors shuddered, and they took off toward the first hallway they saw.

  “Man, does Typo piss me off…!” the younger spat under his breath.

  “You moron! Keep your trap shut! Want him to hear you?!”

  The pair slowed, panting to catch their breath. The stillness of the abandoned tunnel echoed around them, clouds of frost spouting from the concealed holes beneath their lips. Both looked back at the crest of distant light to make sure the demon had not followed, and once they were certain, they sighed with relief. Typo could do practically anything he sought fit; if he noticed you, that was reason enough to run, but if he questioned you… You were already playing a dangerous game.

  “Just because we’re out of sight doesn’t mean that we’re out of mind,” the wiser of the two grumbled, resuming his trek. “You should know to watch your mouth.”

  “I do,” he justified. “I’m just sick and tired of his attitude.”

  “If you were made by Satan Himself, you would be cocky too.”

  They stopped together, glancing through a busted archway where a high-tech door used to reside. Several Elites and many more Haxors were rummaging about, ransacking the room as they overturned every inch. A laboratory table was flipped; drawers of wires were upturned and emptied out; nuts, bolts, screws, nails—all flooded the floor in a metallic rain, clinking against the rock as the valuable pieces were fished out.

  The duo watched; those participating in the raid did not take note of their presence, too engrossed as they discovered altered power suits and machinery from every limb of life. Drafts of contraptions acted as wallpaper to the tight room, a single Haxor walking along the perimeter with a hand raised; a blue projection ran out of his sheltered palm and scanned the wall, reading each scribble and mark out, and storing it within his disclosed hard drive.

  “…It’s insane,” the younger spoke, stiff looking on. “We are superior, we rule the Earth, and yet they have someone like this. Someone who can make things we only dream of.”

  His partner glared at him through his visor, scoffing before heading off down the tunnel. The electricity dancing throughout him was hardly visible, only slightly outlining his presence. “We don’t need that scumbag’s knowledge; we just need intuition.”

  The curious Haxor gasped when he realized that he was alone, tearing after his comrade. “H-hey! Hold up!”

  “No, moron, keep up.”

  The Haxor grunted, pushing his strides further. “01005, you don’t have to be so snarky, you know?”

  “99067, you hardly even deserve to be here.” His negative, abrasive tone shook the young one’s heart as he fell back in step beside his superior. “You may have the physical genes of a Haxor, but in my opinion, you are no better than a Bot. Such should have been your destiny—or death with the majority of them.”

  “Hey! Don’t you go comparing me to those Neanderthals! You—!”

  01005 grabbed his partner by the throat and slammed him into the wall, silencing his petty argument. The trapped soldier flailed, gasping for air with wide eyes as he watched 01005 purposely pinch his oxygen line. The Haxor lifted him up by the neck, the youngster’s feet scrambling and scraping the wall, but 01005 would not release him. A string of drool fell from his lip through his ragged breaths; his brain became heavy, and his sight turned to static, his surging gloves cringing under 01005’s fingers while trying to pry them away.

  “Only Haxors are spared their balls and the majority of their minds—because both our mental and physical physique are in pristine condition. A thirteen-year-old, newly inaugurated, still wet-around-the-ears greenie on a mission like this…” He flung the child to the floor, emotionless as he watched him gasp and claw the ground, nearly asphyxiated within his armor. In the nick of time, the Haxor’s trembling fingers found the button in correspondence to his helmet, and his visor rapidly parted. The child drew a relieved, strained breath before collapsing face-first.

  His supervisor took a step closer, pushing down on his spine with a heavy foot. The child’s neck flew up, reaching for fresh air, but the hardened Haxor only applied more pressure. “You lot should get training amongst the Players and learn more about the shitty world that way. Go live in their world, see how pathetic they are, and build your morals. You live too loose; you don’t appreciate your entitlement—you look on at everything we do without seeing the logic in it!” The Haxor gained momentum in his foot and kicked the child square in the ribs, sending him skidding across the floor.

  The fresh soldier continued to gag, and intermingled with his oxygen-hungry saliva were tears. He did understand! He did know that they were in the right, but he still struggled to grasp why it was essential that he smile at executions, participate in rapes, or raise a gun to simple bystanders. He understood, but he wasn’t them. He was not born into power; he was kidnapped and raised into it. He had the wits and understanding, but not the desire—and it was only getting harder and harder to fake it as time went on.

  01005 hoisted the boy up by his attached machine gun, unfazed as the boy began to thrash like a kit. The hardened Haxor dragged the child down the hall by his knees; no words passed between the pair as the trainee let his neck fall limp, submitting to whatever punishment his mentor planned.

  A sudden turn to the right nearly rolled the child’s knees. He grunted in pain, but that agony quickly fled, replaced by a whimsical breath in as a beautifully decimated room came into view.

  He was abruptly dropped, crashing onto a floor of colorful rugs. Stunned, the young Haxor watched as 01005 boldly passed into the room, overlooking the environment. Items that the boy had no names for were toppled over on shelves; some looked like clay molds and others a codex of compressed files—even the posh material that softened his blow was foreign, but it was so different that the intrigued soldier couldn’t help but run his hand across the surface, his eyes beaming with fascination as the electricity between his fingers caused the fibers to stand on end. Shards of a blue crystal lie scattered about, and perhaps the oddest thing of all was the tiny, soft, stuffed creature resting next to him in several pieces; he had never seen a doll so hairy nor cute, and certainly not what it had been modeled after.

  “Look here, chump.”

  99067 did as he was told, finding the hidden eyes of the Haxor. In a place already so magical, the swirls and blotches of green crawling over the shelves and ceiling brought that much more awe to the sacred room. Their bright, lively selves contrasted perfectly with the Haxor’s dark physique. The boy still couldn’t fathom why the previous Lords destroyed something so beautiful and giving. Seeing the flowers and iv
y flourish here with rows of seedlings wrapping around the room… His heavy heart lightened with confusion. “They’re trying to restore the Earth as well?”

  The ruffian snorted. “Can’t say. Every meeting between them that Gannon has ever arranged, every meeting that he has gone to… He waits for hours, and Pinion never shows up—never attempts to communicate back. But seeing this…” He exhaled heavily. “Just what is she trying to accomplish alone that we can’t do together? Does she enjoy upping the death toll? Is that really what angels desire nowadays?”

  He smacked the shelved items to the floor, unresponsive as they shattered around his feet. “This rebellion… They are the lowest of filth that belongs to the ‘human’ world. Hoarding everything for themselves. Refusing to collaborate. And this! Look at it!” He took a set of bound pages into his rough hands and shook it in the boy’s direction. “These are stories, pathetic stories of that putrid past.” He threw open the cover, grabbing handfuls of blotched leaves and ripping them out in clumps, crumpling them, shredding them, destroying their protected knowledge permanently.

  “They were like freaking nuns and monks in here! Probably didn’t fuck nobody but these books! Trash! All of them! They’re relying on the past instead of looking to the future, thinking that a being in the sky will save them. BLAH. Makes me want to retch all over their faces. You know what we are to them?! Sacrifices for that fiend upstairs! Lambs! Fucking crazy bunch!” The leather casing violently found the floor; the Haxor snatched up another book immediately after. “Look! Dolls, toys—was this run by a queen or toddler?!”

  No word in the world could calm the overseer—certainly not the ones coming to light in the child’s brain as he stared at the pages streaking the air.

  The giant lived for destruction; he craved the splintering of rock and the splash of inky blood, but he never laughed, only gritted his teeth and allowed a hungry, vengeful snarl to bubble up inside of him. With his powerful punches and aggressive swings, he brought everything to ruin besides the plants—he avoided them so much so that if the gusts from his enraged strikes even rustled their leaves, he would change direction immediately.

  Hand reared back and energy bar full, he prepared for another fatal swing, but he was stopped before he could go through with it. Sitting on a shelf amongst the ruins of its counterparts was a cube—one with hundreds of square faces on each side, all twinkling with different colors.

  The Haxor snorted once before the beautiful cube found his crushing fist, and with a predatory roar, he chucked it across the room at a devastating velocity. Compressed like a spring, it exploded against the wall; squares of rippling luminance whizzed through the air while rays of multicolored light wrapped around the room, transitioning it into a kaleidoscope.

  He couldn’t see—neither could with the light dancing and folding, revealing radiant, mysterious images. It entranced both men—even calmed the hot-headed. 99067 found his feet in awe, spinning around to take in each frame while 01005 stood tall and firm; he opened his visor to get a better look.

  “What… Is this?” the child asked as visible, semi-solidified wisps of colors floated around them. They were bright and uplifting, banishing the cold and dragging a rare, sacred smile onto his face.

  “Some trippy-ass toy,” 01005 noted harshly, but even his voice had softened.

  The rays bent, pushed, and pulled, encasing them in a sphere of incomprehensible, indescribable hues. From these swirling colors, what appeared to be multiple scenes revealed themselves at once. In one corner of the room, trees with white blossoms suddenly grew, and an old village appeared from midair; in a blink, it was flooded with lively peasants rejoicing as a horse trotted into the village with a tall, handsome young man on its back and a curious child peeking over his shoulder.

  An arid land of red clay and ghostly fire claimed two adjacent corners. Dust polluted the air, and the scalding bronze wind left its confined area, racing over the soldiers. Two demons walked the land, one with a gaudy, glowing ax on his tail, the other’s face concealed by a skull. The female demon never seemed to stop running her mouth, asking all sorts of questions that the Haxors couldn’t quite make out—but whatever they were, it was bluntly obvious that she was annoying the brains out of the other as he cupped his reptile ears and silently mocked her.

  Below the Haxors’ feet came a sudden wave of golden sand, nearly sweeping them out from under. Eyes rapidly sought for the source as the land turned into a desert, all while the other two scenes continued to pan out in the corners. Only the frailest, brownest of plants were in sight as the sun beamed down on them—a temperature so high that the Haxors found not ice on their skin but beads of salty water.

  01005 groaned, removing his sweaty helmet with a pop. The short black hair and eyes fit his dark nature perfectly, but puzzlement was the only emotion present as the sweat raced down his face. “This…” He outstretched a hand, frowning as the ball of light tried to cook him inside his armor. “What is this feeling? This temperature?”

  The boy looked up at the source, immediately stepping back. His hand flew up to protect his eyes, but already, red spheres made themselves appear with every blink. “What is that?”

  “TOOOBOOOÉÉÉ!”

  Their heels spun in the hot sand. From a crumbling home erected amongst the barren lands, a tiny girl, no older than six, bolted into the harsh sunlight. Her skin was such a dusty brown that the soldiers couldn’t tell if such was her natural hue or just a caked-on layer of dirt. Her clothes were tattered and strangely fresh—a new hide, perhaps, that only covered her bottom, and her feet were burnt, gasping for relief with each lift before being slammed back down into granulated lava.

  “Toboé!” she called out again with an airy giggle. Straw-like brown hair bounced at her ears, two mysterious gray eyes shining bright in the soldiers’ direction. Her short legs exchanged advances at a rapid pace, and she did not appear to be slowing down.

  Naturally, the two stepped aside, but the child seemed oblivious to their movement. Her charge continued past the duo and toward a small shelter—one of dried reeds with a hide resting over top to provide a smidge of relief from the deadly light. A thin woman reveled in the shade, holding a newborn to her breast as he greedily sucked, desperate to nourish his pitiful body.

  Beside them, legs properly folded and tucked under, sat an elegant woman. She did not look deprived nor ratty like the rest of them; her way of life was far richer—any could tell that with a simple glance. Her hair was hidden by a braided hijab, and her face looked intoxicatingly soft to touch. Flawless white hands absentmindedly moved her powder-silk gown from palm to palm, eyes of a luring, deep blue looking on at the needy family without a word.

  “Mami!” the child squealed. Teeth bared, glossy and new, her knobby legs knocked her into the sand right at her mother’s feet. She gasped, crawling into the crook of her mother’s withered arm to rest beside her brother, lovingly rubbing his bald head. Her mother grinned, keeping quiet as she watched her daughter play, who sung his name in dreamy repetition. “Toboé, Toboé! Ta’ is ‘ere!”

  “Fucking gross,” the older Haxor noted. “Look at that withered tit. No good for suckling.”

  A sigh rang out from the younger soldier. “Yeah, I guess.”

  The Haxor’s head spun. “Guess?!” His hand smacked the apprentice’s back, coming close to knocking him down for the umpteenth time. “You obviously have yet to bite down on one, eh? Feel the ducts flowing through your fingers or nipple on your tongue? Jeez, you’re missing out.”

  “…I mean, it does seem enticing, but—”

  He was cut off, grabbed by the shoulder and pulled in close, almost like a father would to his son. He motioned to the elegant woman with a tilt of the head. “Look there, kid. See? She doesn’t have the biggest bust out there, but look how perky they are—how her skin looks like it will melt in your mouth. That’s how all birthgivers should look, but they’re worn thin and loose.”

  The delicate woman slowly turned
her head in their direction; the blue petals within her iris budded, twisting and reaching out toward the men. Her long legs gently lifted her up and moved her out from beneath the shelter until she stood lean and tall in the sunlight. The wind played games with her garment, twisting and twirling it tauntingly above the knee all while a smile blossomed on her seductive lips.

  If he had known what a dog was, the young soldier would have most certainly compared his successor’s reaction to one. 01005’s eyes were enormous, every sway of the woman’s hips his lifeline. She approached on her toes, her calves lean yet muscular, supporting her perfect weight and holding her shoulders level. Her eyes only became more hypnotizing, sucking the soldier further in the closer she got. His feet responded, and with a mischievous glint, he closed the distance spanning him and the coy desert woman, who had clearly taken an interest in him as well.

  The land of fire and land of celebration faded away into the blowing dust, and the current scene claimed all. When the Haxor and woman were a stride apart, the bodies destined to merge halted. The woman stood, her eyes examining the pair, but the Haxor was a bit more upfront than that.

  Boldly, he covered a few more inches and winked, flashing a cocky grin. “My, aren’t you a pretty thing. Never seen such a beauty amongst all this crap.”

  The woman shyly chuckled and pulled her hijab closer to her mouth to hide the wave of blush. “Ah, well, thank you…”

  A laugh filled with gusto rumbled in his gut. “Gorgeous and reserved! What a delectable catch.”

  She giggled once more, taking a step back. “Oh, you think you caught me, do you?”

  He smirked at the challenge, destroying the final inches they were separated by. A hand found her tiny waist, forcefully bringing the woman to his groin. “Depends, do you want me to?”

  She smiled contently, closing her eyes with juicy, pursed lips. “Hm… Well, when you put it like that…” Her lids gracefully pulled apart, the single brush of her eyelashes making him crack a cheeky smirk. “Fuck no.”