*
Mercifully, the corridor was rather short, so Barsch's torment was quite short-lived. After less than a minute of enduring the vapid hallway, they had reached the exit, which took the form of another sliding door. It was the same as it's precursors, except for one, important difference. While the other two doors had been bereft of ornaments, this one had a plaque which read, “TRAINING ROOM”.
“Training for what?” Barsch said, knowing that no one would have an answer.
“Why don't we find out?” Kingston replied, as he walked towards the door. Like the others, it slid out of sight as he approached, allowing him access into the room beyond. The chamber, while being larger than the lab, somehow managed to contain even less. Every inch of exposed surface was covered in square, white tiles, which glinted in the light. On the far side of the room was another door, identical to those that had come before.
The room was bare, save for the solitary ornament in the centre of the room, which looked like a thin, white rod emerging seamlessly from the tiled floor. Atop the rod was a small screen, upon which a digital outline of a hand had been projected. It was identical to the screen they had found at the entrance into the hill. Without hesitation, Alza began moving towards it, apparently unconcerned with the possibility of hidden traps. When she reached the pedestal, she briefly looked back at the three bodies still standing in the doorway.
“Hold on, it could be a trick!” Barsch cried, taking a step into the room. Unfortunately, he was too late to stop Alza from placing her hand on the scanner.
“Hand print confirmed. Welcome back... ALZA00971. Your last training session was... interrupted, would you like to continue?”
“Yes,” Alza said, with a stern look on her face. Barsch had taken another step towards her, hoping to reach her before anything bad happened, when a familiar sound made him stop. It was the fourth time he had heard it, the whoosh of machinery as the door slid into place.
Already knowing what he would see, Barsch turned around, to where Kingston and Maloch had been standing. In their place was the treacherous door, through which Barsch could hear Kingston's surprised cry.
Back in the middle of the room, the voice had replied, “Order acknowledged. Resuming training session 056. Difficulty set to maximum. Time remaining: 180 seconds. Running training program... Apotheosis... Reactivating training implements in three, two, one... begin!”
All at once, several things happened. The lights, embedded in the ceiling tiles, flared up, flooding the chamber with a fierce light. The pedestal, screen and all, sunk into a hole in the floor. A dozen tiles, spread across all four walls, flipped over to reveal miniature laser barrels, which swivelled down towards Alza and Barsch. Several floor tiles slid away, exposing tall, crystal pillars that quickly rose to the surface.
In that instant, as the room was reforming around him, Barsch had a sudden moment of absolute clarity. His thoughts became clear and concise. His mind, which up until then had been hazy with useless self-doubts, became ordered. In this moment of perfect concentration, there was only room for one thought.
“How do you train something like Alza?”
Five seconds later, he found his answer. With a low hum, six of the twelve beam emitters fired, sending long, crimson streams of plasma towards the defenceless duo. The other six turrets activated a half-second later, firing their lasers towards the crystal poles, which in this case, made for excellent refractors. However, instead of the deadly lasers striking flesh, as they were meant to do, they found only empty air, followed by impenetrable tile.
Alza, with a speed that defied logic, had dodged the beams and knocked Barsch to the ground, all in one, fluid movement. Her eyes were glowing, signifying her use of the mysterious power that dwelt within her. With her body augmented by the energy, she felt as if she could do anything.
“Stay down. If you rise, you will get in my way.” Alza then reached down and placed her right hand on Barsch's chest, which normally would have been a nice gesture, but in this case it had a far more practical meaning. While holding him down, Alza closed her eyes, needing all of her concentration for what she was attempting to do. Despite the lasers whizzing over her head, Alza somehow managed to find a calm place in her mind. When she opened her eyes -which were still glowing from within, albeit with slightly less intensity than before- she had a look of self-assuredness.
“Phase One complete. Activating Phase Two armaments. Activating Velocitas Eradico rounds. Time remaining: 120 seconds.”
In an instant, everything changed. The wall mounted lasers stopped firing, giving Alza and Barsch a brief respite. However, two seconds later, they began again, although this time they were joined by a dozen new additions. The new lasers appeared from more flipped tiles, firing their crimson beams without pause. In addition, three turrets descended from the ceiling, bearing fluted barrels made for firing high-energy kinetic projectiles. The rail guns swivelled on their axes, a loud hum accompanying their movements. Once they had locked on to Alza, the hum became a roar, as bullets the size of rocks were fired at five thousand miles per hour. But no matter how fast the bullets were, Alza was faster. Crouching down, she enacted her plan.
With her eyes glowing brightly and her hair being sent in all directions, Alza channelled her power into the tiles beneath her, moving them with her mind. They soon shook free from their gravitational obligations, and rose unsupported into the air. There, they began to swirl and spin, becoming a vortex of indestructible panels which caught each projectile in mid-air. Barsch, who was still lying on the cold floor, was in the eye of the supernatural storm of tiles.
He could hear the dull thud of every impact, as fist-sized bullet after fist-sized bullet collided with the impenetrable barrier. The lasers, distorted by the wall of wind created by the spinning panels, were sent in every direction. Some hit the walls and floor, while others were redirected into the beam emitters and crystal pillars.
After what seemed like an eternity, the roaring storm ended, leaving Alza, still standing over Barsch, surrounded by a few dozen tiles. Her face was unreadable, and for a moment, Barsch wondered if she was enjoying herself. With a flick of her slender wrist, Alza sent the remaining panels skyward, towards the burning-hot turrets. They collided with a solid boom, leaving a descending cloud of dust and smoke where there had once been three deadly rail guns.
“Phase Two complete. Activating Phase Three armaments. Activating Ultima Ratio charges. Time Remaining: 60 seconds.”
Once more, the robotic herald brought change to the room. In an instant, the laser emitters and crystal pillars had disappeared, covered once more by the tiles. Barsch could hear Kingston and Maloch's vain attempt at breaking down the door, and wished that he could call out to them and tell them to stay away. But Barsch could not cry out, he could not even speak.
Seeing Alza use her power again, after such a long time, had been like getting hit with a bucket full of ice water. This whole time, he had been brushing aside the fact that she was different... that she was... dangerous. Seeing her like this, he could not help but shudder. How could he have forgotten that day, when he first saw a girl his age pick up a re-mech with her mind, and toss it away as if it were nothing.
What had he been thinking? That she had just been born that way? That it was just something that she could do? Or had he not been thinking at all, in his desperation to accept her. He had said that he would protect her, but how could he? He could not even protect himself, let alone another... human... being. And from the looks of it, Alza was perfectly capable of protecting herself. If there existed a monster who could best Alza in combat, then what hope did he, a normal, ordinary boy have?
When Alza turned to look at him, all he could see was a monster; a monster with glowing violet eyes who could destroy him in an instant. She reached for him, and, with his mind still in chaos, he spoke two words. The words he said then would always haunt him, until the day he died. Even as they escaped from his lips, he knew that he could n
ot take them back. Even as they made their way through the air, towards Alza, he knew that he should not have spoken. Those two words... those treacherous two words, echoed in the windowless room... as his face was contorted by guilt...
“Stay back!” he had said, and the look on Alza's face -one of utter betrayal and surprise- would live on in his dreams for many years to come.
“I apologise... I should have warned you.” How was it possible, that a girl with so much power, with so much potential for destruction, could look so weak, so alone. And in that moment, the only thing Barsch wanted to do was apologise, and beg her forgiveness. But that moment would never come, and no matter what he did, Barsch could never undo what he had done.
“Watch out!”
He did not know where the words had come from, only that they had manifested at exactly the right time. While Alza had been pre-occupied by Barsch's unforgivable words, the next phase of the training had started. Instead of lasers or high-velocity bullets, the last phase had chosen something much more simple. The device had sprung from one of the unused tiles, after which it had been steadily bouncing towards the unaware duo. It was a black sphere, about the size of an adult head, with a single red light pulsing on its outer surface.
In the old days, during the war, the device had been known as the Garrick Anti-Military Projectile, or GAMP for short. It had been used as a replacement for the highly inefficient mines and claymores that had once littered the battlefield. It had a proximity sensor that could differentiate between humans and machines, and it could remain in hiding for decades before springing up and exploding.
However, the real danger came from the hundreds of metal balls sealed within the GAMP, which were designed to break bones and puncture organs, but not kill. The makers of the GAMP, the Garrick brothers, reasoned that wounded soldiers would take more effort to care for, as opposed to dead soldiers, and so designed the GAMP to create as many wounds as possible, with none being fatal.
Barsch had only seen the GAMP once before, when he and his father were travelling in the west, on their way to a new settlement. They had happened across it while walking through an old battlefield, which had been pecked clean by years of scavenging and grave-robbing. They had found the GAMP half buried in the sand, surrounded by dozens of tiny black beads. His father explained that the GAMP had been a dud, and that if it had worked properly, the bones would have been broken and fragmented.
So when Barsch saw the GAMP hopping towards Alza, there was only one thing on his mind: protect her.
And even though, only moments before, he had questioned his validity as her protector, his concerns and self-doubts disappeared the moment he saw the horrible weapon. He knew that he had to save her, and it did not matter that he was just a normal boy, or that she was in possession of strange, unexplainable powers. He just had to protect her, and that was that.
And so, with a cry, he jumped to his feet and reached for her. Her reflexes were perfect, but even Alza could not have anticipated Barsch's sudden lunge, so she was carried to the ground in his embrace before she could react. And before she could shove him away, the GAMP detonated, sending hundreds of minuscule steel balls tearing through the air. Some of them landed harmlessly on the cold tile, while others -the majority, unfortunately- found flesh. Barsch's scream of pain reverberated off the flat walls, amplifying the terrible sound.
Still trapped beneath him, Alza could do nothing but lie there, as Barsch's blood pooled around them. She could still feel his heartbeat, but it was frenzied, and he was in danger of going into shock. Calming herself, she began to concentrate, thinking back to when she had last used her powers to heal. At the time, she had been half-asleep, and more than a little fatigued, but if she could do it once, then she could do it again.
Without wasting any time, she began to seek out that mysterious, violet energy that lived inside her. Whereas it had come with relative ease a few minutes before, it had now taken on a stubborn attitude, and Alza found that she had to force it to awaken. But at least she could feel it, unlike those times in which she had searched and felt nothing at all. And if she could feel it, she could harness it, and use it to heal Barsch.
“Barsch!”
The agonized cry had come from the doorway, where a frenzied Kingston now stood. The door had slid back the moment the training had ended, just in time for Kingston to see his young friend fall. Rushing to Barsch's side, Kingston began calling out his name, over and over, as if mere words could heal him. With Kingston distracted, Alza managed to wriggle out from underneath Barsch's bloodied body. When she was free, she turned to him and opened her mouth to speak, but stopped when she saw his back.
Blood, still wet and warm, covered every inch of his back. It seeped slowly from the dozens of miniature holes that had turned his greatcoat into a bloodied rag. He was still breathing, but his eyes were unfocused, wheeling around in their sockets without end.
“You did this. You did this to him.”
Kingston's voice, normally the epitome of kindness, was cold and harsh. He looked at Alza with pure hatred, the anger pouring off his elderly frame in a torrent. It was then that Alza remembered all of Kingston's war stories, that he had told of while sitting around the fires of their journey. In all of his tales, he had never once mentioned losing, or being defeated by the enemy. Kingston may not have been born to be a soldier, but fate had ensured that he would be good at it. She had seen him as nothing more than a weak, frail old man who was overprotective of Barsch to a fault, but now she was forced to re-evaluate her assumption. The man before her, despite his age, despite his sickness, was dangerous.
“No... It was my fault... I chose this...” Barsch's voice was faint, but in the noiseless room, it was just loud enough to be heard. The youth, seemingly ignoring the dozens of metal balls embedded in his back, tried to stand.
In an instant, all of Kingston's anger, all of his rage, was gone. It was replaced by compassion, which was fully funnelled towards his injured protégé.
“Barsch... how do you feel? Where does it hurt? Just hang on, I'll treat you in a moment.”
“I'm fine, Kingston. It doesn't hurt. I'll be fine... I just need to rest. You should go on ahead, and face the madman... I'll still be here when you get back...”
Barsch's voice grew weaker with every word, but the look on his face showed only strength. In his head, he kept repeating the mantra his father had taught him, “Through fire, through ice, through deepest despair, never lose your stride.” He would not lose his stride. He would not give in to the pain. He would not let a few measly pellets stop him.
“I wish the Beast was here... It could help me face the pain... Ah, what am I saying... Asking for the Beast... asking for my violence... there's no way I could ever do that...”
And for the first time, the very first time, the Beast answered the call. “I am always here,” it said, with a voice that was unusually soft, “For you are my vessel, my Avatar of Violence, and I will never let anything bad happen to you. We will be together, from birth till death, and beyond...”
“I can heal him.” Alza had recovered her composure, along with her rational mind.
“Stay away from him,” Kingston replied, the anger returning to his voice as if hit had never left, “You Monster.” The old hermit had leant forward, so that his body was covering Barsch's, protecting him from further harm.
“Kingston... please... let her help... I trust her...” Barsch's voice was getting fainter, but his message was clear. Alza watched as the words hit Kingston, his face wracked by indecision. He knew that Alza could heal Barsch, and that it was likely the only thing that could save his life, but nevertheless, the thought of Alza touching him...
He had let Barsch out of his sight before, and it had ended badly for the boy. He was determined not to repeat his past mistakes.
“Kingston... please...”
It was Barsch's soft-spoken plea that finally tipped the scales in Alza's favour. Leaning backwards, so
as to allow... It... access to Barsch, Kingston looked Alza in the eyes and said, with slow and deliberate words, “If you harm him, I will kill you.”
Alza nodded, not doubting the old man's threat. But she had promised to heal him, and she could not... would not... go back on her word. Stretching out her blood-soaked hands towards Barsch -which got a grunt out of Kingston- Alza tried to clear her mind. This time, it worked without incident. The power was there, waiting for her. It wanted to be used, it wanted to be free to enact its presence on the world. Somehow, she knew. She called for it, and it came, like an eager puppy greeting its master. It rose to the surface, filling her with energy, making her feel more alive than ever.
However, the rational part of her quickly reminded her that Barsch was still bleeding out, and that revelling in the feeling of power would not help him in any way. Focusing, she reached out, both with her mind and her hands, until both found Barsch. The instant she made contact, time stopped.
In that moment of timelessness, Alza found herself in an unexpected place. It was similar to the dreamscape, but there was one very important difference. Whereas the dreamscape had held the dreams of humanity, this star-filled space held the dreams of one: Barsch. Stretched out before her, concealed in multi-hued spheres, were Barsch's thoughts, dreams and memories. Somehow, on her way to healing him, she had ventured into his mind. She knew that she could not stay long, and already, she could feel reality tugging on her, trying to draw her back into the real world.
Knowing that it was not the time to go snooping through Barsch's inner-most thoughts, Alza allowed herself to be reeled in. As she was leaving, she happened to see something... a memory... or perhaps a dream... which occupied the very centre of Barsch's mind. It was enormous, easily ten times the size of the other spheres, and yet she could not make out what was playing within.
“Alza?” Barsch's voice, returned to its former strength, snapped Alza's eyes open. She did not know how long she had been kneeling for, although it felt like hours. Her hands were still on Barsch's back, which was... healed. Even the blood had disappeared, making it appear as if Barsch had simply lain down to take a nap on the hard floor. She tried to stand, but the healing had taken more out of her than she had anticipated, and it was all she could do to stay upright.
Barsch, on the other hand, was brimming with energy. He quickly stood, while assuring Kingston that he was fine. Looking at his blood-stained greatcoat, Barsch sighed, before taking it off and throwing it to the corner of the room. It had protected him from the elements more times than he could count, but it had been useless against the GAMP. He then looked around at the ravaged room, noting the tile-less areas on the floor, the embedded panels in the ceiling, and the dozens of metal balls spread across the floor. After another sigh, this one for his disbelief in how much had happened in the last three minutes, he turned to Alza and Kingston.
“Thank you, both of you, for saving me,” he said, with a smile on his face. But his smile did not last long in the atmosphere of the room, seeing as Alza's coldness and Kingston's barely restrained anger still permeated the air. Barsch had hoped that letting Alza heal him would change the hermit's mind, but he had been wrong, and had only succeeded in increasing the distance between them. As for Alza, the concern she had shown only moments before had evaporated under Kingston's fierce stare, only to be replaced by her customary apathetic gaze.
“Barsch, I think we should leave this place, before something else happens.” Barsch cringed, as he remembered the look on Alza's face as she activated the training program. Maloch was right, the longer they stayed, the greater the chance that something else would activate.
“You're right. Kingston? What do you think?”
“What? Oh... yes, let's move forward, before she causes any more damage.” Barsch wanted to point out that it had not been her fault, and that he had only been injured because he had tried to stop her, but the words died in his throat when he saw Kingston's eyes. Before, they had been filled with kindness and patience; now, he could only see loathing for Alza.
Alza, having finally regained enough strength to stand, did so. Barsch tried to help her to her feet, but she pulled away, saying, “Yes, we should go. The sooner we find the madman, the sooner I can be done with all of this.”
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