Page 78 of Remnants: Disruption
It shakes open, displaying the reinforced Affliction-powered carriage.
I step in and Gregor stands in front, his form far too bulky to stand beside me and Arya.
The elevator rattles to a start and begins to descend into the bowels of Old Chicago.
“Is it her?” Gregor gravelly voice sounds equal parts concerned and confused.
I don’t blame him, nor those on the council. The Seers had spoken to me and me alone. Finding Arya had been outside my normal duties, but I had felt compelled.
“Yes,” I whisper, looking down into a face that, for once, seems innocent and carefree. “She’s the one.”
Chapter 33
Anew
Noon, November 3rd, 1030 A.D.
She has a kind heart. In the moments where no one is watching, she does the right thing. Except, unfailingly, the world seems bound and determined to punish her. It is not hard to imagine why she feels there is only one way out.
Personal Entry from Bloody Mary, October 1st, 1030 A.D.
Iwake to a soft light overhead. At first, it’s difficult to discern if the light is Affliction in nature, but the subtle flow patterns cast shadows if you watch closely enough.
When I’ve stared at the light for the appropriate amount of time, I finally let my brain process everything else.
I first notice the five lines of tubing that trace into my arms and shoulders. It’s possible that the fixation with the overhead light is because I’m filled with enough drugs to take out sixteen orphans.
Whoa, weird thought.
There’s a ruffle of clothing beside me.
“Jesus Christ, are you a fucking bear?” I chirp, my voice slurred but coherent-ish.
The man freezes but gives me what I think might be a look, though what kind is hard to discern.
“She’s awake,” his voice is like a growl and I’m fairly certain now that he’s a bear in a skin suit.
Or a guy in a bear suit.
“Am I in an animal hospital?” I ask, glancing around at the medical equipment. It’s the most logical conclusion between the bear man and the beeping machines.
The room is outfit with tech with a name I don’t recognize: Ozymandias. There isn’t a single DAEMON brand amongst them.
But the rest of the room might as well be straight from a woodland resort. Maybe like something from the Western Alliance.
“Oh, shit,” I look back at the bear guy. “Am I in the Western Alliance?”
“No,” he says, voice holding confusion and slight exasperation. “Just hold your questions till the queen gets here.”
“The—” did he say queen?
A knock sounds at the wooden door and the bear guy lumbers over to it, knocking into something expensive looking as he does.
“I won’t snitch,” I promise, and he definitely gives me an exasperated look now.
He pulls the door open and—
“Oh fuck,” I yelp and try to move, but pain shoots down my back. “Oh, fuck me that hurts.”
