#deathloop fic

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[Overarchiver] Just remember the LPP. [Harriet] So it shall be.

***

Egor was not expecting a swarm of Harriet’s followers storming into the complex fully armed, leaving their trail of chaos all the way to his place. When he came back to his compound, he saw his labs being surrounded by Eternalists setting up his nullifiers in the area. His hidden machine had already been discovered and trashed into an unrecognizable piece of metal. Amongst them was Harriet, looking down from the viewpoint he set up next to his room, wielding that pistol of hers with a menacing look. Her gaze was as dark as her hair, as she scanned her surroundings vigilantly.

He didn’t try to approach her; he didn’t dare, because the Harriet he saw this afternoon was not the Harriet he knew, she was not the person who would react calmly when one called her weird, nor the one that would share a beer with you and laugh off whatever happened between you. Her eyes were a bottomless abyss, devouring all who made contact with them. Instead, Egor managed to tip-toe his way to the gate of the bunker after barely passing through several nullifier fields and clinging himself against the ice-cold rocks. Each second of him holding his breath lasted like an eternity. Finally, he slipped into the bunker before taking a last glance at this strange event, and dove further deeper into this old facility. He had heard of the eternalists’ plan to blow up this place; he was glad that as incompetent as they usually were—they failed to do it.

As he ventured down this deserted underground complex, he heard an ominous voice coming from the speakers. It was the familiar voice he had heard for years, but the voice was distorted, perhaps due to the depth of his location, or the current state of the voice’s owner.

“Egor.” She spoke with a certain mischievousness, almost singing. "I know you are here.”

Egor felt his heart sink with the prolonged high-pitched voice that dragged like nails on a metal surface. Shiver was sent across his skin as he started scratching himself out of fear. His fingers dug deep into his skin, hoping this was nothing but a dream.

It hurts.

“Come join us.” She lowered her tone. Every syllable was like pressure applying to Egor’s lungs. “We shall celebrate our first day together.”

***

The first time happened quickly. A flash in the cockpit. Then she was in her room again.

She thought it was one of the strange dreams she has every once in a while after she emerged from the airplane. Until she received the message of Colt going rogue. That strange sensation of deja vu as she opened the group chat and read through the messages from other visionaries, then standing above her followers giving the speech, pulling the lever, watching them choke, once more. She had done it before; she was sure of it. But the day ended with little going out of hand as she hid herself away and drifted into sleep.

It was on the second morning where she woke up in her chamber that she comprehended what was happening to her.

Never-ending first day of chaos.

Every time was not much different from the last, as her schedule remained the same throughout most of the loops. She woke up, held the ceremony, killed Amador or be killed, slaughtered some followers in the name of chaos or be slaughtered.

After a while, she completely forgot how nervous she was on the first day of chaos, and how comforting when she lit the cigarette after watching a live parish in front of her.

She had tried to investigate if the same was happening to other visionaries. She brought up the possibilities with the fellow founders from time to time, but was assured it was still the first day. 

How long has it been? she wondered. Eons, perhaps, they never knew.

In the beginning, she missed her blissful ignorance which enabled her to conduct the ceremony without that extra mile of worry that outside chaos would disturb her and her followers. Then she appreciated the foresight of the event so she could prepare for the day.

Yet as her experience in the loop was enhanced and her view of the world was once more broadened, she felt her calling even greater. She came to realize that she is gifted with her power and her vision. She became more fascinated with the purpose of her power. It was only fair to enlighten her fellow visionaries, who still wondered in the fog of ignorance. By the power she was obtained, by her transcendent experience, by the darkness that comes to all, by the peace that embraces everything—From chaos they shall rise and be reborn.

Her obsession grew along with the progression of loops. Amador’s lingering breaths in the green mist no longer complemented her vision. To the darkest indulgence that was a mere child's play as Harriet surviving pass loops and wanting for more.

When her behavior pattern changed, Colt stopped showing up for days. She stopped conducting her ceremony during that time, while commanding her followers to rampage the island with chaos.

Then she came to her.

The archivist, the huntress, the new head of security herself.

***

[Overarchiver] Why do this? [Harriet] Cleanse and rebirth, it is only fair they are offered this opportunity from me.

***

Desperation engulfed him when he reached the deepest level of the bunker. It was cold and partly flooded with water, a place no one would like to be in so late at night.

Egor was tired.

He docked in a dark corner, surrounded himself with old gadgets that have no other use than being a barrier or a possible camouflage. He was too weary to conceal himself with Aether again. Sneaking across those maniacs and carefully treading down here already took away most of his energy. He pushed the heavy orange glasses that hung above his frozen nose and took a glance at his surroundings.

No one, yet.

He shivered under his big red coat, the one he used to wipe blood on it when his dried skin cracked and bled. Covering his mouth with hands, he felt his temples pulsing like the anomaly’s light travelling across the night sky.

He felt… felt as if someone was drilling into his skull, or something was trying to come out. Unable to slow down his breathing rhythm, his throat tightened as the cold damp air seeped into his bone, with the haunting static noise which rang out through the bunker.

Occasionally there were a shot or two. From what weapon he did not know, but he could recognize some screams or cries that sound distant yet close. He tried to identify any sort of footsteps, but all he could hear were his heartbeats, the wheezing sound that perhaps came from his throat, and all those strange noises that disturbed his already stressed mind.

Breath in. 

He tried to think of what Colt taught him. When he asked about how it was like being a soldier.

Not easy. He remembered Colt explained it to him. But people find their ways, eventually.

Breath out.

He focused his attention on calming himself. Hoping they would leave him at peace. Which was all he ever wanted. 

To be undisturbed.

Then he heard it.

Right above him—one explosion, another scream, smell of gunpowder.

FUCK

***

She learned much from the visit of the archivist. The approximate length of this “first day” (or the length that the archivist remembered), the phenomenon that affect people in different ways, a simple recap of what happened before Harriet’s sudden deviation. She also gradually gained more comprehension of her ability—Nexus—the potential to bring people into the Great Beyond together. Although she has not yet had the knowledge of how to apprehend other powers, she found herself somehow satisfied. 

“We will share our love, our pain, our joy, our suffering.”

Harriet stated this to Julianna, reaching for her face, scrutinizing her dumbfounded expression under that curly hair, while carefully applying a tiny bit of Nexus onto Julianna. 

Glimpse of thoughts, she heard. A vocabulary or two, hard to recognize, from a voice that was not hers but Julianna’s, flashing across her mind before they vanished into black smokes.

“Our thoughts will bind us.” She whispered as she leaned toward Julianna. “Our feelings will unite us.” She stared deep into those azure eyes.

Then something broke.

Julianna slipped away from the chair and stood next to her.

Emptiness.

“To the great beyond”. Julianna coughed as she cast her sight to the door behind her.

Once more, alone with her own thoughts.

“I should go now.” Julianna grabbed her rifle and jumped straight down to the door beneath. “And be careful Harriet.”

“Beware of the snake in the tunnels, Julianna.” 

“Yeh that,” Her sneakers scratched against the metal floor while she pressed the button with the gunstock, “and remember,” she turned and looked at Harriet with an icy gaze, “I tolerate, but won’t indulge.”

She died many times before she finally achieved the effect she was looking for. The memory of Colt using her own trick on her inspired her experiment. That chaotic stream of thoughts and emotions rushed through her veins. The displaced sensation of being devoured by something ancient and then re emerging into this world. She couldn’t quite put it, but it was familiar.

Out of the void. Smokes creeped into her lungs. Mixing smell of burning plastic and flesh. Moans and cries slammed into her eardrums. Breeze brushed softly against her exposed muscle. Blinding sunlight as she regained her arose from the ashes. Burdening by a scorching sensation stretched across her body. There she was, from debris, carrying the suffering, rising into daylight.

Rose again with the proof of rebirth. Such experience. A gift.

The first successful sign of her experiment was when her followers described a burning sensation behind their back. The way they cried out brought back some distant memories. Not long after it, she started to feel them—confused agony, despair. Then she was able to sense the physical pain that cut deep into her flesh without actually harming herself, to capture the fleeting phrases of thoughts inside their mind, to immerse completely in the ranges of sensations. Eventually, she learned how to sever the links right before that moment of departure—when the mind vanished completely from time and space.

***

[Overarchiver] Are you sure you are doing it for them? [Harriet] Why do you ask? [Overarchiver] Curiosity.

***

Egor’s screams were drowned by the fireworks.

However, no one can hear him, no one beside the group of hunters that dragged him out of his hiding spot. Gush of blood left a long and dark trail on the snow covered ground. His broken glasses still cling to his broken nose bridge. His hair wet and sticky from the crimson fluid that patiently dripped along his frozen cheek bones.

Yet he felt warmth. An oddity, an anomaly he didn’t predict of occurring. Perhaps he just never imagined himself to be so greatly wounded.

He struggled. Ever so lightly he tried to grab anything while he was on the ground—the wheel of the truck, the crates scattered around his camp, the foot of some random eternalist. But every time he felt the surface of something solid, the energy escaped from his arms, to his palms, then his fingers, and simply vanished, as he watched his fingers waved stiffly inches above the ground. 

He could hear Harriet giving a speech… or was it in his mind? It was hard to make out the exact situation, for he was disturbed by a range of emotions other than pain and fear. Something clouded his mind, some sort of mist. Like the damp and freezing fog that surrounded him on his way up the ridge in the morning. 

Still, fear overcame all as he found himself being tied on a pole barely standing at the end of something made with metal. Two forces from the sides were keeping him on the edge. His arms stretched in the air unwillingly as the ropes buried deep into his skins. His joints struggled under the strength as he fought for balance above something seemingly invisible. Below him was the lake he had looked at for the past months. It did not take him long to realize this was the spot he learned to kill. Now this fate befell onto him.

He felt his skin being torn apart against the rope.

He cursed, but nothing came out of his mouth. He sobbed, but it only enhanced his pain. He tried to look, but it was only a blur.

Someone approached him. Against the white light directing onto his face was a short figure slowly approaching. He panicked without his glasses. It was nearly impossible to recognize the person, but he comprehended through the silhouette, and the uncanny yet familiar glow that grew stronger as she came near.

For a moment, it was like being in another world. Everything was bleak. The chilly wind battered against his face, hanging lifelessly around his shoulder. After the struggles, he had lost his strength. Crystal of tears frozen on his bloodened cheeks. 

But he’s still frightened.

Even with eternity in your hands. To be killed is still a terrible fate. And to be tormented? It was not a fate he would have imagined when he thought of eternity.

And Harriet? Who would’ve thought.

“The cold wind thundered at the gate,”

Suddenly the voice was so clear, if someone is playing a tape in his mind.

“Blotting out the lights,”

It was not his own voice.

“Blinding all…”

He heard a chuckle as the shadow of the person lengthened and touched his demolished feet.

“Fitting, wouldn’t you say? Dear friend.” He heard she whispering,

“Please…” He tried to talk. “Why are you doing this?” Instead, what came out was not a stream of words but blood.

Harriet heard him, of course. She felt all of it.

Anger. Fear. Confusion. Pain. Sorrow. Despair....

Excitement.

This was the moment she was waiting for. And a gift to her dear friends, who had never been given the proper opportunity to experience rebirth, a chance to further broaden their horizon, a way to glance into the hidden side of the world, a peek at the deepest and darkest corner of their minds.

The world denied their chance of such greatness. It was only fair for her to grant them this experience.

“Seekers!” she exclaimed to the anxious listeners surrounding this ceremonial sight. “Tonight our visionary, the great founder of Aeon, my dearest colleague, participates in our first day’s ceremony.”

“Please…” Egor whimpered. He tried to pull the ropes binding his arms, but nothing was affected while his limbs hung motionless in the night air.

“He has gifted us with eternity. Now we reciprocate by bestowing him the path to a new life.”

Slowly, Harriet raised her pistol above her head, and gradually, in a dramatic manner, she straightened her arm and aimed at Egor. Before he could make another attempt to struggle, a gunshot deafened his already injured ears.

He lost his balance, and screamed.

Harriet had shot off one of Egor’s palms, cutting him from the bind. His screams fell into the dark water. He was now only supported by another rope and the metal pole that was keeping him grounded.

Despite losing one hand, what Egor found the most painful was the moment he lost balance when his shoulder was twisted between the gravity and the eternalists holding onto the rope. He groaned as the sharp pain suddenly surged from one side while the other side became numb from the numerous agonies.

Suddenly, a lullaby resonated inside his mind.

He had no memory of hearing it before.

But it sounded comforting, forgotten, and eerie.

At that moment, he saw the pulsing glow of the anomaly in the darkness, gently merging along the mist that covered his mind. 

Blinding all…

She made her way toward the edge of the darkness. The eyes of her colleague staring directly into the sky, emotionless, as he submerged under the murky water. 

The strange song ringing in her mind then engulfed the rejoicing clamors in the background.

She hummed with lips shaped like a crescent moon.

Then the clock struck midnight.

Egor had never visited an asylum before.

Laid between two rows of soaring pines, a cuddle stone road stretched far under the shade. At the end of the road, a grey building stood within this enormous estate. Egor stood in the middle of the road, rubbing his shiny dark leather shoes against the thin layer of brown moss in the space between stones. He gazed ahead then looked behind, finally lowered his sight and stared at the stack of papers neatly placed in a brown folder, where a black-and-white photo of a man was stapled on the cover with an abbreviation marked in the corner—C.V.

He had paid almost his annual fund to get here. He straightened up the collar of his burgundy jacket and made his way to the entrance of Dargyey Institute.

Egor stood in front of the small gate situated in the middle of a concrete wall that extended to the both ends of the building. He prepared himself for what he’s about to see inside. This is the first time he had been to any place like this. Never had he met anyone from an asylum, and none of the materials he read or watched had provided a good impression to him. 

The suffocating structure certainly doesn’t help.

He stood and looked at the towering concrete building that spoke of the enclosure nature of an asylum.

Then he pushed the gate and made his way in.

It was calm.

Despite the lifeless front, both sides of the lobby were covered by extensive glasses, which guided the lights inside the building. He saw a few patients sitting by the windows. Some had eccentric movements with their arms, few mumbling out inaudible phrases, yet the atmosphere of the lobby is generally peaceful. Several staff in white moved through the lobby and made their way deeper into the building, which was hidden behind other concrete walls. His gaze followed them through the walls into a single room somewhere in this facility, where a man sat on his lonesome, perhaps in a lightless cell, mumbling about the mystery of an ancient island, regarding the enigma of time.

“Sir?”

A voice creeped from behind, which failed to capture Egor’s attention as his thoughts wandered through the walls, then across the seas, over the ice, into the cold. He shivered as he tried to visualize the unknown entity which he called “anomaly” permeating the land under the northern lights. He could get excited easily, especially when he was determined.

“Sir? Can I help you?” The loud voice echoed in the almost empty lobby.

It startled Egor. He heard it this time alright. He adjusted his collars once more before turning toward the source of the voice. It was a middle-aged lady in a grey sweater sitting inside a space under a dim sign that wrote “Reception”.

“Oh.” He let out a sign of relief and walked toward the lady in small steps, while holding the folder close to his chest. 

“Um, hello, madame.” He greeted her while he held onto his newly modified glasses, which he was still not used to its heaviness. “I’m looking for Mr. Vahn, Colt Vahn.” “And you are?” She directed her sight back to the book she was reading before she called Egor. 

“Serling, Egor Serling.” He slightly bent forward and brushed across the table with his thin fingers, as if hovering above this lady in his designer clothes may embody his supposed social status. “Sorry you are not on the visitor’s list.” The lady merely took a glance at the notebook covered with unrecognizable tiny scriptures to turn Egor away.

He lost some of his balance and almost knocked his head against the low ceiling of the enclosed reception. He supported himself with his elbows on the icy wall, steadied himself as he leaned forward, trying to read the scribblings.

“Ex...excuse me?” His voice rose a few pitches as his throat dried. “You are not on the list, sir.” “No no, check again.” The tip of his shoes anxiously tapped against the cold floor while his voice trembled. “I called this morning.”

“Sorry sir, I don’t see your name” “There has to be some mi…”

“Egor!” Another stranger’s voice came from behind him. “Dr. Y/N?” The reception lady raised her head and responded to the owner of the voice.

Egor felt a sense of familiarity, but he can’t recall anyone he knew working at this facility, not that he knew a lot of people.

“Sorry Mrs. Pike, this is my fiancé.” Egor felt someone gently tugging the corner of his coat.

Huh?

Egor turned around and saw a figure in a lab coat next to him and smiling. He certainly had not met this person before, but he was convinced he had heard the voice somewhere.

“Oh,” Mrs. Pike gasped behind her reception desk, and a delightful smile emerged upon her face. “Dr. Y/N such news.”

Still incapable of grasping the situation unfolding in front of him, Egor merely stared at you as you made your way next to him and took his hand which had become freezing after his time spent wandering at the gate.

The warmth…

He stared at your face with scrutiny, not listening to any of the conversation you were making with the lady.

“Sorry I forgot to tell you earlier.” You went forth and rested against his shoulder, like how an engaged couple might act in front of people. Egor failed to react as your hand creeped around his waist above his thick wool coat. “He is visiting me and our friend here.”

“Oh, that’s no trouble.” The lady at the front desk laughed softly and waved her hand, finally making a nod at Egor, who had been frozen for several seconds. “My apology, Mr. Serling.”

“Uhh,” An almost inaudible sound escaped from his dry lips. “Well…” He tried to act with ease because at least he had obtained access to the institute. “Um…”. But nothing so far went as he expected.

“Well, we have to go Mrs. Pike, our friend is waiting.”

You took a step while trying to drag Egor away from the reception, but he was pinned on the spot.

“Oh, congratulations, by the way.” The lady added before you were able to take leave.

“Thanks.” Eventually you pulled Egor away with you. He lost his balance as you pulled him from the spot, but quickly regained it when you stopped and carefully had him settled against your back.

“Careful dear.” You giggled as he straightened himself and positioned his glasses.

What is happening?

Egor walked in silence while you took out your card and entered the facility. He was still registering what had just happened as the two of you moved through a hallway and were greeted by several personnel on the way.

He took a glance at his hand holding yours, looked up at your white coat, your back where he just softly brushed against. Then he observed his surroundings. The dead scenery on the other side of the window actually looks quite pleasant from inside under the winter sunshine. The sunlight bounced across the hallway against bright and grey surfaces, creating a bright and calming atmosphere. He could almost forget how his knuckles burned from standing in the wind while building up his courage to venture in, and how his skin seemed to become more vulnerable, along with his failing eyesight.

Even then, he could feel inches of his skin flakes escaping from the surface of his palm and fell into yours. The dead cells merged into another vibrant environment. Egor found that thought to be quite amusing.

No one had held him like this before, especially since his skin condition started to deteriorate.

“Sorry to bring you in like this.” Eventually you arrived at a dark wooden door. You stopped at the entrance to your office and turned to him—Only to see a befuddled expression beneath those thick, round glasses. “Oh… sorry,” You let go of his hand. “I haven’t introduced myself, Dr. Serling.”

Then you opened the door and gestured to him inside before you closed the door behind you.

Dr. Serling?

“The name is Y/N, I was the one you talked to this morning.” No reaction from Egor. His mind still wandered, his gaze afar, his posture stiff. “On the phone, that is.”

He stood in silence while holding the folder by his waist. He squeezed the hand with a little warmth still clinging onto it.

“Dr. Serling?” You waved before his eyes. Nothing. 

Dr. Serling.

The corner of his lips twitches slightly upward. No one had ever unironically called him a doctor.