- Joined
- Dec 25, 2017
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- Nebulae
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"The Disconnect shattered the realities imposed upon us by the Malefactors. We regained ourselves, but not our true selves. Lost in the sea of augmentation and organic manipulation, we all shall strive to come to terms with our new reality." - Accord Speaker <:: DAMOCLES ::>
STAGE 1:
You are no longer who you were. You are present, not past. Acknowledge that and Ascension awaits.
Earth. Now an Empire's discarded leftover. Left to rot in a pit that will never be cleaned. Not by them, anyways...
With the Combine's departure, they let all of the Transhumans and Synths go. People will spend years, perhaps decades, debating why such a regime would make a move like that.
That doesn't matter. What does matter is that I'm starving and in the middle of nowhere.
Four years have passed since they left and 'set us free'. It might've been some sort of sick joke to them. They might be watching me right now, struggling and dying without their "aid". They changed me so much, all of us, so much that every day is a struggle to survive... I hear distant communications through my headset every now and again, the weather out here - and the portal storms - disrupt our equipment sometimes.
I look up to the sky through cracked lenses. More clouds. Darker ones. I need to find shelter.
I pass over a small hill, the trees here orange, some red. Radiation? Or just the seasons? I can't tell anymore. I'm not a... tree-ologist regardless.
I pull the Pulse Carbine from my back by its make-shift sling, the magnets worn down with age. I pass through the trees and spot an old shanty village. A few cottages with their roofs damaged, or missing.
It's a miracle any of my equipment still works after all this time. They're robust but it's clear it wasn't designed to be used for this long without any solid maintenance. Good job I kept tools to clean my gun on my body.
I trudge slowly through the muddy path, readying my Carbine as I head into the village. Plenty of ammo left, there's not much out here to sho-
A noise to my left.
I make ready, with the same trained precision. A useful reminder of the past.
Another noise. Front. No viscon.
I glance around before returning my gaze to the shattered building.
The door's moved. Daggers locked and primed.
The silence is deafening. So used to constant chatter. The hum of machinery. The roars of Helicopters and Gunships scrambling.
Do I even recall the sound of a non-vocoded voice..?
PFEW
Headcrab.
Dead, now.
It's innards splayed against the rotting door behind it.
I wait a few moments longer...
All Clear.
I whisper to myself.
I carry on down the village's small path. It's only one until it curves off to the right. Meandering into the woods.
I follow it, naturally. There's nothing else out here for me and I'm not going inside the cottages, not with the crabs hiding in the debris.
I was never afraid of such infestations, now the parasites haunt my dreams.
Dreams. Individuality. Myself...
Who am I, really? Who was I, really? Who will I be, if not dead, really?
RANGER-19, of course. My name's never changed. It's who I was, am, and will be...
But I can't stand this gnawing at the back of my head when I ponder it.
I wasn't always a Soldier, obviously. The body underneath my armour is what's left of him.
What's left of who I used to be.
The path ends, yet a clearing is ahead. A church and a graveyard. The tombstones are well-covered by the earth at this point. Perhaps they missed it all. The invasion. The Occupation. Whatever came after. They're lucky, I suppose. The Church itself is in an acceptable state, a few windows shattered and a couple of small holes in the roof. It'll do for tonight.
Is that a marking...?
With the years of their presence, only a fool wouldn't recognise the infamous Clamp of the Combine.
Yet the symbol itself is what's unnerving. It's upside down, like a flag in distress, with a skull in the middle instead of the circle, or a City designation.
Never seen anything like that before...
I whisper to myself.
A holdout? Insane soldiers? A cult?
I wonder.
Part of me considers turning back, but there's nothing the way I came. The Polish countryside is barren. 'East' is all I heard from a communication just a few days ago. A stronghold, maybe... Future worries.
I ready my Carbine again and creep up to the largest set of windows just next to the icon, listening as hard as I can for any noises within.
Nothing.
I move around its exterior, checking all my angles like clockwork. I catch a glimpse of the sky.
Rain soon. Worse if I'm unfortunate.
It'll do for tonight.
I push open the church doors slowly, my Carbine's muzzle following an arc as I do so.
Were I so inclined, I might've become a religious man. On the... benches? Seats? I've forgotten the word. There are small boxes marked with Combine symbols. Opened already, there are multiple vials inside. Injectors. I read the label...
Synthetic Supplement Injectors. Food.
Jackpot Confirmed, as my Ordinal used to say. The incredible luck and unusual location for such a necessity wasn't lost on me, however. These shouldn't be here. I think back to the logo outside until the church doors creak, I swing around, dropping the injector to the floor as I take aim.
"<:: Easy, Brother... We come in peace... ::>"
A vocoded voice. Transhumans, just like me, yet it's raspy. Older. I lower my gun slightly, not trusting them just yet. The weather outside is atrocious... Visibility must be down by half at least.
Who are you?! What are you doing out here?
I demand an answer.
"<:: We are... Pilgrims. This old world church - a place of worship. It's our resting place for now... ::>"
His head doesn't move, but I know he's looking me up and down. The same with his two tag-alongs. They're all wearing dark capes with hoods that have the symbol outside emblazoned on both sides. Yet the centre-most Transhuman is in what appears to be full-blown robes that cover his body. Bulky. The only thing I can see of his body is the blue hue from his helmet.
Judging me from the depths of his hood.
Almost like a nightmare you might see at the foot of your bed. I re-affirm the grip of my gun. They're creepy.
Just as I finish that thought, all three of the soldiers drop their hood in unison. The back two look new, as if they'd just come off the line. How that's possible is beyond me. The one in the centre has a red skull painted on the forehead of his helmet. Right over the top of where some had a Combine clamp patterned in.
"<:: You are hungry. Lost. Without purpose. You will surely die alone out here. You may stay here for the night, Brother, on one condition. ::>"
Here it comes. Indentured service? My limbs? Perhaps my gear? I don't know what it could be yet... I have no choice.
I, and the 'tagalongs' sit down on a few boxes around a campfire. The Marked one is lighting an array of candles with an electric lighter. The once-dim Church hall lightens up slightly. They flick the lighter off, and sit down in the loose circle with me.
He holds out three injectors towards me. His arm reaching from the abyss of the robes. It's covered in markings I do not understand. Then he speaks.
"<:: Take them. Use them. The augmentation gifted to you by the Malefactors requires it. You require it. ::>"
I mutter a thanks, and feed myself through the port on my stomach.
One, much better.
Two, feeling active.
Three, like I just got out of stasis.
"<:: What... is your name, Brother? ::>"
I place the injectors aside and look up to him. The other two are also looking at me, although not nearly as hard. They've yet to speak, I've noticed.
RANGER-19. That's my name.
He sighs? Then shakes his head.
"<:: Another soul in need of guidance it seems... That's your name, Brother? Why? ::>"
A remarkably weird question. We were all given names like that.
It's what I, we, were given in service of the Combine... Why would I change it?
If the Marked one could cry, he probably would with how he sounded next.
"<:: It's a slave's name. It rids you of your individuality. Shackles you to your past. It seems you have yet to acknowledge yourself. ::>"
What does that mean? Acknowledge myself? Get to the point.
"<:: I will help you understand, Brother... You see, now that we are our own men, we must seek enlightenment. To discover our places in this world. One that hates us unanimously for actions out of our control. We all must realise that we are no longer who we used to be, but that we have been born anew... We all must acknowledge this to progress as transhuman beings. ::>"
Absolute. Drivel.
He's clearly insane yet... he may be right.
I always wondered who I was. I'd never figured that much out. I stuck with the only identity that I have. My tagline - my training - forced on me, on all of us.
If I can't remember who I was, and my current identity means naught... then why not forge a new one?
A new person.
I... I think I see some sense in what you're saying. For the longest time I've wondered who I was, the person they took from me. They left us, uncertain to ever return... So... I should become a new person? My own person?
He seemed elated.
"<:: Correct! Yet the journey of self-discovery and ultimate ascension of both body and mind is a long and perilous one... One we can guide you through. ::>"
The other two nod just after. I look down, thinking to myself. At this point, what do I really have to lose? Die to Xenian creatures, hunger, or roving bands of terrorists?
I may as well take the offer.
I look back up to him. My mind set.
I wish to join you. I want you to help me become my own person in this world.
The Marked one leans back and speaks to me.
"<:: I'd like to offer you, Brother, an Accord. ::>"
A candle is snuffed out by a rogue offshoot of wind. The help is taken.
Today, I've found more than shelter.
Logo made by both Blitz and I.
Church Photo edit made by Blitz.
Part 1 - Acknowledgement: https://nebulous.cloud/threads/pilgrims-path-acknowledgement.61545/
Part 2 - Reclamation: https://nebulous.cloud/threads/pilgrims-path-reclamation.61570/
Part 3 - Foundation: https://nebulous.cloud/threads/pilgrims-path-foundation.61574/
Part 4 - Pilgrimage: https://nebulous.cloud/threads/pilgrims-path-pilgrimage.61593/
Part 5 - Ascension: https://nebulous.cloud/threads/pilgrims-path-ascension.61596/
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