Page 52 of Remnants: Disruption
One P.M, October 25 th, 1030 A.D.
To our knowledge, before the Disruptions, there were no beings of supernatural capabilities. It is widely understood that the folklore beings of old were the result of the First Disruption in 1 AD.
Dr. Blair Andrews MD, PhD, On the Disruptions.
They take my NCPD dChip as I exit through the reinforced doors. Some guard whose name I never learned gives me a knowing look as I hand the card over. Honestly, it’s remarkable I was even carrying the damn thing in the thin clothes I’m still wearing.
Maybe Mary had stuffed it in my pants at the last minute. She’d certainly taken the liberty of dressing wounds and changing me out of my cloak and mask.
I stare out at the desolate streets that surround the NCPD’s bunker. No one in their right mind would try something this close to the compound and even fewer would solicit on the city block.
Damien Roberts would likely throw me on my ass if I even tried to set foot in DAEMON. And G.O.D. would send the calvary after me if I went in as a Remnant.
So why do I even care?
One dead DAEMON employee and a high-powered Remnant sucked dry. Hell, I killed a top ten Remnant this week, too. I’ll bet one of the many others I killed this week were employed by the megacorp at some point in their lives.
What makes me any different?
My phone chimes in my pocket, startling me from my thoughts.
Hey, I heard about everything… I’m so sorry. This is bad timing, but I found something you might be interested in. If you’re still working the case.
I blink a few times at the message. Then at the name.
Blair Andrews.
The NCPD bunker may be barricaded from brute force, but I suppose they never had to contend with a shadow walker. I turn on my heel and make my way towards the other end of the building.
The morgue entrance is just as reinforced, but as I round the corner, I find no one in sight. Not even a guard.
Figures they wouldn’t give two shits about the recently dead.
“Do you care?” one hisses as I cup my eyes to look through the morgue entrance. I see her in the darkness just on the other side. She doesn’t look angry and I don’t recognize her.
“I do,” I whisper before unnatural darkness swirls at my feet.
I drop through and fall directly onto the other side of the door. It used to be a disorienting experience. The first few times I either puked or cracked my head against some sort of solid surface.
Now, it’s just a perpetual reminder of what I am. At least the shadows appear to be friendly today.
Except for the lurkers, that is.
Dim light pierces the nearly pitch-black morgue antechamber, allowing my eyes to adjust. There’s a long hallway trailing down into the depths of the complex, curving off as it pitches deeper.
I make my way down the corridors, the only light provided by the steady glow of Affliction running along the floorboard. It gives the entire scene an eerie “evil secret lair” vibe that fits more and more by the day.
The soft sounds of something like instrumental music carry down the hall as I approach the double doors of the morgue. Light pours through the small windows, cutting into the shadows that follow me through the passage.
“What if they turn you in?” one hisses.
“Then I’ll fight my way out,” I growl.
The music cuts and I hear quick footsteps approach the door. I ready myself in case it isn’t Blair on the other side.
“Oh,” Dr. Andrews’ voice comes through the door, and it opens to a soft smile. “Hey.”
“What did you find—” I start, but they grab me around my biceps and pull me forward into the morgue.
