#prototypeibrahim

The note just says

‘Be sure to unwrap in a timely manner -SFS’

Kamille blinked looking first to the note before back to the sight before him for a few silent moments. “Well this is certainly elaborate Setsuna but you didn’t have to go to such a length to make me happy.” He commented as he got to work removing the ribbons around his boyfriend with a look of amusement and bemusement.

He wanted to run.

He wanted to be anywhere but here.

Not on the ship. Not on the earth. Not anywhere that he could be found. But his feet wouldn’t move. He felt rooted in the spot, his head full of all sorts of voices from the machinery around him. Panic. Chaos. Pain.

He was in pain.

Was it him or was it the ship?

He couldn’t tell. His mind was overwhelmed.

There was no severing the connection. No breaking his contact. He was feeling every damage and every break from the structure around him. He was drowning.

His hands fell on the console in front of him.

“J-just one more try! I know that I can fix it!”

[x]

It was hard to explain the connection that Tieria had with Veda. Aside from the obvious, prior to their fusion it was as though Veda was a god and Tieria her priest- he alone had the ability to commune with her in the purest sense, and therefore he felt a sense of being above everyone else. Even as he became more human- more flawed, perhaps, as an Innovade, but he would rather be this way than any other way- that connection he felt still remained. Even after their ties were severed, he still found himself looking to her for guidance. What would Veda do now? What would she suggest?

But now that he was, in a sense, Veda- that link was even deeper than before. He now had answers before he could ask a question.

But right now all alarms were going off. Panic was all that he could feel, all he could think. This was why being an AI was better than having a physical form, dammit! 

He wanted to believe in Setsuna- truly, he did- but it was clear that things weren’t going well, to make an understatement. 

But were he younger, he might have said “the chances of success are too low, I can’t allow you to.”

But he wasn’t his younger self. 

athene-londe said: “I feel woozy.”

“Miss Reccoa!”

Soran pushed off the walkway, moving forwards the few feet it took in order to get to the other. His hands reached out once his feet touched back down, supporting her before she could really topple over. The low gravity would not do much if she had managed to hit her head on something. He braced his shoulder under her arm, helping to guide her down the hall.

“Let’s get you to the infirmary. You look like you have a fever.” He said, hoping that it was only a cold and not something more serious.

Reccoa blinked rapidly as her consciousness teetered in and out; she felt weightless, like she was falling.  She was suddenly stopped and pushed upwards. The sudden reverse of motion created enough discomfort for a small, pained sound to pass between her teeth. For a moment, her blurry vision made whoever caught her look like an amorphous blob. As their features became clearer with her vision, Reccoa recognized the shaggy black hair and brown eyes.

“Soran?” Her voice was barely a whisper. Slowly, her small hand trailed to her forehead, which was warm and damp with sweat. He was near, and held her up strongly as they wandered into the medbay, where she was ushered onto a soft recliner.  Reccoa weakly answered Doctor Hasan’s questions, and it became obvious that she was dehydrated with an empty stomach. She was given some water after some scolding and directions, which she drank with a shaky hand. Her gaze turned towards Soran, and a small smile followed.

He stood with his arms neatly folded behind his back, giving him a regal vibe as he looked around. “Hmm... So the Earth of a different universe it seems.” He mused, voice deep as he noted several humanoid machines approaching with the commotion, “It seems humanity has progressed in a new way here than in other realities.” He noted, a small smirk forming. As the machines approached a voice demanded to know who he was as he remained silent... until from his eyes a pair of beams emerged in a zigzag path before hitting one of the machines, a terrified yell being all that could be made before the machine and the person piloting it were gone with not even ash remaining. “That. That is who I am. You all may call me... Darkseid.” He finally spoke out loud.

“I give you two choices. You may submit and slave for me on Apokolips or you may die.” He continued as people murmured and there was a notable tension of fear before the remaining machines aimed their weapons. “And so... you choose death.” He spoke before another portal emerged with a great score of his Parademon soldiers flying out and attacking. As screams and fighting began to surround him he rose into the sky, a cold smirk forming, “So... what sort of beings will come to defend mankind THIS time around?” He mused to himself in amusement.

“The Way” by Zack Hemsey.

“Some have said that Iwas given keys to the city of your dreams.” Nicol quietly recited the code into hisphone as he stood with his back against the wall that divided the city. Before himstretched the affluent sector, shining and sterile under the afternoon sun. Thewall was lined with manicured parks and tall trees that kept it safely out ofsight and out of mind. Behind him, on the other side, was a place he had only ever seen in the city council’s educational films. A place of desperation that had to be shut out so that they, civilised people with the means toescape, could survive and thrive. There had been peace for years, but now a new campaign was under way to finally ‘scare off’ their uncooperative neighbours.

Nicol had found the truth quite by accident. Whilepassing his father’s study one evening, the word ‘casualties’ rooted him tothe spot. At first it was too shocking to believe, but as he stood at thedoor and listened to his own father tentatively agree that the other-sidersneeded to be ‘eradicated’, the reality of their atrocities and the falsehood oftheir world became clear.