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KP - Episode 2
🕑 Added 2023-08-28 16:18:33 +0000 UTC- Words Count: 4917
The Inventory operates under the same principles as Minecraft, offering a total of 45 slots, with each slot capable of holding up to 64 stacks of the same item.
As I gather the fifty cases of Compound V, each containing ten vials, I swiftly pocket them. However, I soon realize that the Inventory considers the entire case as a single stack, allowing me to fit all fifty cases into just one slot. Intrigued by its inner-workings, I set my gaze on the sealed lid of one case, wondering what would happen if I were to break the seal. Thus, without hesitation, I decide to break it and see what unfolds.
‘As expected.’
As soon as I break the seal, the case and its contents are immediately separated in the Inventory, now requiring two slots instead of one. Even after I’ve resealed the case, the App continues to recognize the items as separate objects rather than a whole. My guess is that the seal isn’t airtight, leading to this change in recognition, although I can’t be entirely sure if that is the exact reason.
“Anna, so I was wondering…”
[Yes?]
As I fix my gaze on the unsealed case and the swirling blue liquid within, Nanna curiously taps her beak on the glass.
Ignoring her birdy antics, I find myself unable to let go of the question that has been weighing on my mind. “Out of seven billion people on this rock, why did you pick me? What is it that makes me so special?”
[There is no specific reason. The App has the ability to identify individuals who possess strong desires or ambitions, as they are more likely to embark on paths that generate valuable data for the Foundation.]
She explains patiently.
[In my case, ten people were initially assigned, and the first individual happened to be a self-serving, self-help guru who sells courses targeting young and mentally vulnerable individuals. The second’s a lustful warmonger, the third’s a religious fanatic. For all your faults, you’re the only remotely normal individual on the list. Between you or those mentally-ill assholes, you’re just the better choice.]
I didn’t quite know what to expect, but her honest admission surprisingly eases the tension within me. It’d have been much more stressful if Anna had held any expectations, especially since she has displayed the ability to read minds, ‘Even though she kinda sucks at it.’
[Are you calling me inept?!]
The indignation in her tone’s very clearly conveyed, drawing a muffled laugh from me as Anna reasons.
[I just… I value my client’s privacy. Yeah, that’s it!]
A wide grin spreads across my face as a radiant light emanates from the screen of my phone, drawing the vials in the Inventory. "I’m gonna be honest, that could have been a lot more convincing.” I remark, an amused and slanted grin plastered on my face. Humming an upbeat tune, I resume mercilessly. “Sounds to me like you were being careless.”
According to Annabella’s own admittance, my profile had already been sent to her before she made the decision, which I’m gonna take a wild guess and say she probably skimmed. “You’re not reliable at all.” Finally, I conclude.
[(≧ヘ≦ )!]
“But it’s cool.” I respond in a lowered voice, as if to share a great secret. “Personally, I prefer having a lighthearted assistant over a serious one. Ain’t that right, Nanna?” The bird doesn’t understand a word I said, but she still nods, a sage-like expression briefly crossing her avian features.
[… Thanks.]
“Are you blushing?” I ask, flashing a smirk over my phone, aware that Anna can see me through the camera. Taking a moment to check over the spoils I have obtained, feeling a sense of satisfaction, I add. “Because it sure feels like you are.”
[No I’m not. Shut up!]
Raising an amused eyebrow in response. “Once again, that ‘no’ of yours is very unconvincing,” I playfully remark, experiencing an odd sense of anticipation as I wait for Anna’s reply. Nanna, the jealous and territorial devil she is, jumps on the screen and taps it aggressively. As it turns out, she has been trying to get my attention, but since I was busy reading the messages, I failed to see it.
Chuckling at the mean bird, I scratch her cheek and only then does she relent, clumsily flying on my shoulder.
Unfortunately, our lighthearted moment is abruptly shattered as a menacing group of guards burst through the door, brandishing guns and crackling, electric batons. Seeing us, one shouts aggressively, demanding. “Hands up, asshole!” I immediately dive behind the counter, narrowly avoiding a hail of gunshots which quickly render what I reckon is millions-dollar worth of cutting-edge science equipment a pile of scrap metals.
Trapped, I count a total of twelve guards, each armed with a 9mm firearm. While there is a possibility that I could fight my way out if I push my body to the limits, it dawns on me that I don’t necessarily need to engage in combat. With the Magnus App at my disposal, I can simply open a portal to a different world and escape. However, as I attempt to activate the Gates, something unexpected happens—
[Access Denied]
[You may not use the Gates now, there are hostiles in the vicinity]
The words erupt from my lips in frustration. “What? Annabella, what the Hell? Why didn’t you mention this earlier?” The realization that I had ventured into this unfamiliar world without a care in the world, under the assumption that I could leave whenever I wanted when I couldn’t, leaves me exasperated.
[Sorry, the App’s new so I don’t know many of the specifics either…]
“If I had known this would be a problem, I would have taken more time to prepare–” As I anxiously bite my lip, ducking when bullets wreck my cover, a thought crosses my mind concerning the fact I had been able to freely travel through the App near the Lane.
Then, it dawns on me that, despite Anna’s insistence on their villainous status, the Lane have been oddly calm and non-threatening in our interactions. ‘What is the parameter then? How does the App determine who is hostile?’ I inquire, seeking clarification on the criteria that the App uses to assess whether individuals or groups.
Frustration starts to bleed into my thoughts as I inquire, ‘How far does the term ‘vicinity’ even extend? Why’d you guys use such an arbitrary term used?’ Understanding these distinctions is not a necessity, as seemingly inconsequential details can make all the difference in life-and-death situations like the one I am facing.
[Please refrain from raising your voice! My efficiency plummets when I am under duress.]
‘I apologize for not keeping calm while being shot at!’ Tone snarky and filled with irritation, I yell, sensing Nanna’s trembles as she nestles deeper in my breast pocket. ‘Now, how far do I have to go to access the Gate?!’
[I’ll check with my father, in the meantime–]
“I’ll make sure to stay out of trouble, just hurry!” I murmur to Anna, the urgency evident in my voice. With a leap, I scramble to the opposite counter in an attempt to evade the pursuing molten slags. A grimace sprouts on my face as I feel a bullet graze my side, eliciting panicked cries from Nanna.
Adrenaline courses through my veins, heightening my senses. Though I am acutely aware of the physical toll it takes on my body, it looks like I will have to put it to full use today. With each beat of my racing heart, a wave of agony washes over me- bones cracking under the strain as my muscles jerk and contract, I wait for the exact moment when six extremely distinct clicks sound.
Among the twelve guards, I notice that six of them have depleted their ammunition and are currently in the process of reloading their guns. The other six guards have their gaze locked onto my hiding spot, their guns at the ready, eagerly waiting for a chance to exercise their rights. Sarcastically, the thought echoes in my mind, 'Welcome to America...'
After a calming exhale, I retrieve the cheap machete I had brought along for our camping trip. It may not be the most formidable weapon, but it's better than facing the guards unarmed. Repositioning the machete cautiously, I use the reflection on its shiny tang to discreetly locate the guards. Despite its modest size and quality, the blade gleams with a hint of promise.
I can't help but wonder how things have escalated to this point from what was originally supposed to be a peaceful getaway in the wilderness with my pet bird. Oh, that’s right… I took a sketchy deal from a sketchy person whose appearance remains a mystery to me even now. Regret that I had taken their offer stirs within me, but there’s no time to hesitate.
Throwing caution to the wind, I grab a nearby flask, my fingers brushing against its cool glass surface. Without a second thought, I hurl it with all my might towards the first guard, aiming for a split-second distraction.
The bottle shatters upon impact, shards scattering in a dazzling display. The guard jolts, momentarily disoriented by the sudden chaos. Seizing the opportunity, I swiftly emerge from my hiding spot, machete raised high. Engulfed by a surge of adrenaline, I blur into motion, utilizing every ounce of training and instinct within me. With fluidity and precision, I engage the guards one by one, each strike executed with calculated intensity.
The clash of steel fills the air as the guards attempt to defend themselves. Their bullets ricochet off my blade, meeting an impenetrable barrier. Their futile attempts to subdue me only fuel my determination to emerge victorious. A symphony of combat fills the night, punctuated by the grunts and groans of those who dare to challenge me. In the midst of the chaos, I catch glimpses of Nanna’s blue wings fluttering as she takes to a steel beam in the ceiling, leaving the scene of danger behind.
In the split second between Nanna’s safe departure and the guards’ desperate attempts to regain control, my instincts kick into high gear. My hand moves swiftly, palm connecting with the grip of one guard’s gun and stealing it from him.
Next, I aim the weapon at the closest guard, ready to eliminate the threat with a single well-placed shot. But a glimmer of humanity surges within me, the desire to preserve life even in the face of danger. I know not why, but the look of sheer panic in his eyes touches something in me.
Thus, instead of firing at his chest, I calmly adjust my aim, redirecting the barrel to his foot. The gunshot echoes through the night as the bullet finds its mark, piercing the flesh of the guard’s leg.
Pain radiates through his body, immobilizing him without causing a fatal wound. The slight delay caused by this deliberate choice sets off a frenzy among the remaining guards. They surge forward, desperate to take advantage of my momentary distraction.
Their anger and frustration palpable to my senses, though amidst it all, I can feel their relief- relief in the fact they won’t have to tell his wife; his children and his parents about the guard’s demise.
With lightning-fast reflexes, I release my grip on the disarmed guard’s gun, seamlessly transitioning into a defensive stance. Evading their reckless advances, I throw the gun at one guard, wrenching another in my grasp as a hostage- preventing them from shooting and unleash a series of swift, calculated strikes, targeting vital points and vulnerabilities in their movements.
The air crackles with the energy of the ongoing battle as shots are dodged or blocked, and retaliation strikes land with precision.
Blood splatters and grunts fill the battlefield as the guards gradually comprehend the futility of their resistance.
One by one, they collapse to the ground, their bodies incapacitated and battered, but still alive- breathing. For a brief moment, there is a glimmer of hope that the battle has been won, that the violence will subside. However, such is rarely the case in the tumultuous world I have found myself in.
Caught up in the adrenaline-fueled excitement, the sensation of power surging through my veins, I let my guard down, succumbing to a moment of vulnerability. In a cruel twist of fate, the cacophony of the battleground abruptly halts as I crash to the ground, pain shooting through my body like a lightning bolt. Gasping for breath, I realize with a sickening jolt that I have been struck.
The piercing agony radiates from my back, soaking my surroundings with my own blood. The gunshot reverberates in the air, a haunting reminder that danger can strike from the most unexpected of places. Summoning the last vestiges of strength within me, I dive for cover once more. My mind races, searching for a way out of this dire situation. Survival instincts kick in, urging me to abandon my morality as I clutch the gunshot. It’d have been so easy… I could have destroyed them in seconds, but–
(“Son, the decision to be good or evil is in your hands.”)
‘They’re just doing their jobs…’ Though weakened, I gather my resolve, ready to face the trials ahead. The wound stings, but it fuels my determination to overcome as much as it shakes away the creeping exhaustion due to excessive production of adrenaline. My heart cramps with agony, and every breath feels like it's draining my stamina more than necessary.
With a shaky breath, I push the pain aside, focusing instead on finding a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos.
“He’s hit! Get him!” The guards, channeling their pain and anger, scramble to their feet like a pack of relentless hyenas.
Despite their non-lethal injuries, their almost agony mirrors my own, except mine’s a gunshot that is dangerously close to the base of my spine. Their eyes glimmer with a twisted eagerness, driven by the prospect of capturing or eliminating their adversary. They know I am wounded, vulnerable, and in their minds, this is the moment to seize the upper hand.
The once-muffled groans of their battered bodies transform into desperate grunts as they converge upon me, driven by a primal instinct to survive. Time seems to slow, the air thick with tension. My heart hammers in my chest, a wild rhythm that merges with the acrid scent of gunpowder and the lingering metallic tang of blood.
Summoning every ounce of strength left within me, I too jump to my feet, ignoring the searing agony that radiates through my injured back. My movements are unsteady, like a wounded animal cornered. Each step forward is a battle against my own limits, but I do not- cannot die yet… As they close in, I focus on the instincts that have brought me this far – the agility, the quick thinking, and the determination. I dodge, weave, and parry their clumsy attempts, driven by desperation. My survival is paramount, but so is theirs–
In an unexpected turn of events, Nanna seizes the opportunity and swoops down, releasing a well-aimed… Deposit directly onto the eye of one of the guards. Astonished, I can’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation.
Little did I ever imagine that her ability to relieve herself multiple times a day would come to our rescue one day. It seems that, in this instance, someone else has finally experienced the less glamorous aspects of owning a pet bird, and I’m all for it. The chaos erupts as the guard, blinded and in pain, wildly flails and stumbles against the desk.
In his disoriented state, he unleashes a series of shots that miss everybody, causing even more chaos and confusion amongst his fellow guards. It is complete pandemonium. Seizing this opportunity, I gather my wit and swiftly make my move.
Carefully navigating through the chaotic scene, I inch closer to the exit, wordlessly gesturing for Nanna to follow, hoping to make our escape undetected.
As I slip out of the room and into the white- seemingly sterile corridor, I can’t help but be grateful for my lovebird’s… Unusualability and her spontaneous act of defiance.
Though keeping a pet bird does come with its own challenges, never have I appreciated her companionship more than now.
As I gather my breath, I feel a familiar presence in my breast pocket. Nanna gracefully descends, her tiny form strutting with her beak pointed towards the ceiling. I can’t help but feel a sense of comfort and warmth as I lock eyes with her soulful gaze. In that moment, I could almost swear I detect a hint of concern in those expressive eyes. It’s as if Nanna senses my condition, my pale face soaked in perspiration, and understands the severity of my injury.
Like always, her presence brings a soothing reassurance, reminding me that I am not alone in this perilous journey regardless of what I may think. With a gentle touch, I stroke her soft feathers, my heart filled with gratitude for her unwavering support, but there’s a time and a place for everything, and now isn’t the time to appreciate her cuteness and aid. As much as I want to, the corridor is a straight line with no furniture to take cover behind, nothing to hide my silhouette from our pursuers except for the empty labs.
Knowing it’s my last option unless I want my back riddled with bullet holes, my heart pounds in my chest as I swiftly make my way towards the nearest lab. The click-clack of footsteps echoes in the distance, urging me to act swiftly.
Pushing open the lab door and cautiously step inside.
The sterile scent of chemicals hovers in the air, mingling with the faint hum of machinery which make me faint. I scan the room, searching for a hiding spot that will shield us from harm.
Spotting a cabinet tucked away in the corner, I dart towards it and quietly slide inside, praying that it will conceal me from prying eyes.
Nanna, perched on my shoulder, senses the urgency and nestles closer against my neck, her warmth at least offering a sense of solace amidst everything. As I brace myself in the confined space, I hear the heavy footsteps of my pursuers grow louder. Time seems to slow down, each heartbeat a thunderous echo in my ears.
The tension in the room / cabinet is palpable, setting every nerve in my body aflame.
Breathing as silently as I can, I remind myself to stay calm, to trust in my instincts. In this dimly lit sanctuary, I cling to the hope that remains, knowing that survival depends on my ability to think quickly and remain hidden until the danger subsides. “He has to be in one of these room!” I hear one shouts, causing my muscles to coil and tense. “He’s a Supe, we can’t take him on alone. Split to three squads and check.”
‘The situation is still less than ideal, but…’ It seems like a more preferable approach than confronting all the guards simultaneously. Each squad consists of four injured guards, and my plan is to incapacitate them individually, taking them down one at a time.
By doing so, I can hopefully ensure a tactical advantage and minimize the risk factors.
*Ding
A quiet vibration tugs at my attention, and I immediately pull out my phone.
[I asked dad!]
Anna exclaims excitedly.
[He mentioned that you need to be at least ten meters away from the hostiles in order to access the Gate.]
“Ten meters?” I repeat, my voice but a whisper. The information’s a crucial piece to the puzzle, offering salvation from the dire situation I have found myself in. “Sounds doable…”
As I cautiously crack open the cabinet door, struggling with chest pain. I stare at the group of men advancing into the lab, assessing their demeanor and calculating my next move.
Their presence alone exudes a sense of professionalism and purpose. These men are undoubtedly experienced, and they are here for me. I quickly close the cabinet door, mind racing with thoughts. These labs, with their high-tech equipment and advanced research, appear to be worth a fortune. Being men for hire, it is unlikely that the guards will want to cause any unnecessary damage, meaning it’s unlikely- Hell, unrealistic for them to take turns riddling my hiding spot with bullets.
Though it eases my worry to some extent, I cannot take any chances.
Suppressing any outward signs of pain or distress, I bring stillness to my movements and lower my voice to a whisper, even though the pain inside me tempts me to scream or groan. Gesturing to Nanna, pressing a finger gently against my lips to signal for her to remain quiet, I breath a sigh of relief when she reenters my pocket, curious and concerned eyes gazing up at me.
Luckily, I had taken the time to train her before. Though Nanna can be quite the handful with her… Spirited personality, she has proven to be remarkably obedient when circumstances demand it.
As I lock eyes with Nanna, attempting to convey the magnitude of the situation and the necessity of her silence, she seems to take offense, puffing up in a display of defiance. It's as if she is offended by the notion that she’s insensible enough to draw attention to bigger predators. While her reaction amuses me, I am also aware that time is of the essence, and we cannot afford any slip-ups.
Resisting the urge to smile, I maintain a serious expression and repeat my silent plea to her through my eyes.
Despite her spirited nature, Nanna has always shown a keen understanding of my non-verbal cues, sometimes anticipating my needs and desires. This time, much like all the previous times, isn’t too different.
She silently sinks into the safety of my pocket, far calmer than I ever thought she could be. I do not claim to know everything about birds, but I know she is not panicking because she trusts me enough to realize I will never allow harms to befall her. Not while I am still around. The guards’ footsteps echo ever closer, and my heart- in sync- ramps up exponentially even as my heartstrings start to buckle from the stress I have put it through within the last hour.
The pain becomes unbearable, and I double over, unable to suppress the groan that escapes my lips. Bitterness laces my chuckle as I realize the one in need of a reminder wasn’t Nanna, but myself.
‘Who’s the one needing training now, huh?’ I murmur between gritted teeth, self-derision audible in my voice. In spite of the pain, a newfound fire burns within me as I kick at the cabinet door. The reinforced steel plate’s blown off its hinges, slamming into two of the guards whilst the remaining two watch on in shock.
They raise their guns, but I’m quicker, grabbing the fallen guard’s and pressing a finger to my lips to hush them into silence. “You don’t want to do this, trust me, and truth be told, I really don’t want to kill or maim you guys either… So how ‘bout you two turn a blind eye and we all walk out of this alive and whole?” Fact is, I’m a pretty decent fighter, and a poor negotiator but the odds are in my favor, in spite of how it may seem at a first glance.
I am a formidable Supe, capable of vanquishing their whole crew in an instant. Any sensible soul will contemplate the peril of tangling with me for a mere paycheck, let alone grown men likely with families of their own to worry about. Wealth and authority may allure, yet when confronted with the harsh reality of facing someone like me, they must consider the sacrifice.
Is it really worth gambling their existence against an apparently invincible force for materialistic reward? I’ll admit, I’m banking on the fact they’re afraid a lot, but in order to do so I must first put up a brave front. An iota of weakness and they’ll converge like sharks. The two guards glance at their fallen comrades, then quickly trade wide-eyed looks. “You do realize you’re stealing from Vought- the most powerful and influential Corporation in the world, correct? Since you’ve shown us mercy, we’ll do the same and advise you–”
The guard with fade pauses, wordlessly gesturing his colleague to continue where he left off. “Return the stolen items, or Ms. Stillwell will have our people scour the world for you. You won’t like it, trust me.”
[Potter, you dare use Julius’ Spells against him?!]
‘Quiet.’
I scold Anna, schooling my expression in a cocky smirk as I respond. “That is assuming they can locate me in the first place.”
“We have branches and facilities spread all across the world.” One says, and I counter with a, “And I can teleport.”
“Clearly not, or else you wouldn’t still be standing here,” He retorts as I straighten my posture and spread my arms in a gesture of defiance. The pain in my eyeballs intensifies, echoing the agonizing throb throughout my body. Every organ screams in protest as the miraculous, yet perilous hormone courses through my veins.
With a taunting tone, I continue, “If you think you can stop me…” The words are punctuated by the excruciating agony pulsing through my system. Despite the torment, I’m able to draw on a well of concealed strength even I wasn’t aware of. “You can try, but I promise you, you won’t like the outcome.”
“Bzz- Alpha Team, what’s the situation on your side, over.” As the guards’ radios suddenly buzz to life, a surge of tension courses through the three of us. Reacting swiftly, I aim my gun at the unconscious guards in a menacing gesture, my finger poised near the trigger. It’s a display meant to instill fear and deter any potential interference.
However, my intention is not to actually harm them. Taking a life is a weighty act, and I want to ensure it remains a difficult decision, at least for myself. There are plenty who deserve death and these guards do not fall into that category.
They are merely individuals doing their jobs, likely coerced into signing Non-Disclosure Agreements and facing extreme threats to their livelihoods and families by Vought or similar forces. While one might argue they could have fought back or extended help, it is inherent in human nature to prioritize the protection of our own lives and those of our loved ones over strangers.
I cannot hold them accountable – not when I myself have once found myself in such circumstance. “Please, reconsider. Both of us want for you to return safely to your family tonight.”
Once more, I plead, observing as their bodies deflate. The Caucasian guard approaches his radio and responds, “He isn’t present. It seems he has teleported again.”
A wave of relief washes over me, and I am close to collapsing from fatigue. My legs shake, striving to support me, but I cannot allow the guards to detect any sign of weakness.
Consequently, I shift the gun to redirect their focus, causing their eyes to closely follow my movements. “Happy?” I shake at his angered, yet defeated response. “I’ll be after you leave the lab, and divert your colleagues from here… Or else.” Sharing a moment, the two begin to back out of the room, even closing the door behind them. Once they depart, I crumble to the ground, clutching my chest as my lungs, having endured considerable strain to sustain my body, suddenly fill with blood.
With shaky hands, I make an attempt to retrieve my phone, yet my trembles cause me to accidentally drop it. A bout of frustration courses through me as I glare at the device, holding back a blood-filled cough.
[Julius, are you okay?]
“I’m- Uhm- I’m fine.”
Gasping for breath, every inhalation intensifying the pain, I involuntarily curl up, seeking relief from the agony.
As I manage to press a button, the phone screen illuminates, displaying a faded image of a thin, frail boy conversing with an older, rugged man in a dimly lit room. My fading vitality and diminishing senses hinder my ability to decipher their conversation, though I do find myself hoping that the next experience won’t be as overwhelming as the first two, ‘cause I’m freaking beat… Dipping my index finger in the screen, I am sucked within a vortex of colors and promptly spat out on the ground, thrown between the two men.
“Please, I need help,” I croak towards them, my exhausted body slumped over the old, neglected desk on the opposite side of the room. Both the young Captain America and the older man gaze at me in astonishment, before the former attempts to rush to my aid, only to be halted by the latter. “Dr. Erskine--!”
“Don’t approach him. He could be an enemy…”
Steve Rogers counters. “He doesn’t sound German.”
Those are the final words that reach my ears as black spots encroach upon my vision. Summoning my last bit of strength, I manage to utter one final plea, “Help…” And in response, Nanna, my beloved bird, leaps out from my pocket, fluttering her wings anxiously. ‘Good girl,’ I think. If her cuteness can’t convince the good doctor of my goodness, I don’t know what will.
