X
The first sensation was not one of rebirth, but of drowning. A thick, viscous fluid filled his lungs, a cold, chemical sea that burned and soothed in equal measure. Panic, a primal and unwelcome instinct, clawed at his throat. He thrashed, a puppet pulled by unseen strings, until a voice, smooth and synthesized, cut through the chaos.
“Calm yourself, Subject 734. The transfer is complete. Welcome back to the land of the living… so to speak.”
His eyes snapped open to a blinding white light. The fluid receded, siphoned away by unseen tubes, and he was left gasping on a cold, sterile surface. The air that filled his lungs tasted of recycled oxygen and antiseptic. He was weak, his limbs heavy and unresponsive.
“Where… who am I?” he managed to croak, his voice a distorted echo in his own ears.
The synthesized voice chuckled, a sound devoid of warmth. “An excellent question. One that we will explore in due time. For now, know this: you were Kaelen, an asset of Omni-Corp. You were… terminated. And now, you are reborn.”
He tried to sit up, but his body refused to obey. A figure emerged from the glare, a man in a pristine white lab coat, his face obscured by a reflective visor. “Your former shell was irreparably damaged,” the man said, his voice the same synthesized tone. “We have provided you with a new one. Stronger. Faster. More… compliant.”
Fragmented images flashed through Kaelen’s mind: the glint of a blade, the roar of a gunshot, the searing pain of betrayal. He remembered a face, twisted in a cruel smile, but the details were lost in a fog of static.
“What do you want from me?” Kaelen rasped, a cold dread seeping into his nascent consciousness.
The man in the lab coat leaned closer, the reflective visor showing Kaelen his own reflection: a face he did not recognize, with eyes that glowed with a faint blue light. “We want what we are owed, Kaelen. Your loyalty. Your skills. And your silence.”
Over the next few weeks, they retrained him. The bio-synthetic body was a marvel of engineering, a fusion of organic tissue and advanced cybernetics. His strength and speed were beyond human limits, his senses preternaturally sharp. He could interface with computer systems, his thoughts a stream of data in the digital ether. He was a weapon, and Omni-Corp intended to use him.
His first assignment was a simple one: eliminate a rival corporate executive who had been stealing Omni-Corp’s proprietary data. The mission was a blur of violence and efficiency. He moved with a grace and lethality that was both familiar and alien. He completed the task without a flicker of emotion, his mind a cold, calculating machine.
But as he stood over the body of his target, another fragmented memory surfaced. A woman’s face, her eyes wide with fear. A name whispered on her lips: “Kaelen, no…”
He stumbled back, the cold certainty of his actions shaken by this phantom emotion. Who was she? And why did the memory of her pain feel like a dagger in his own heart?
He returned to the sterile white room that served as his prison and his home. The man in the lab coat, a man he had come to know as Dr. Aris, was waiting for him.
“Excellent work, Subject 734,” Aris said, his voice laced with satisfaction. “You are proving to be a most valuable asset.”
“I want to know more about my past,” Kaelen said, his voice firm. “About who I was.”
Aris’s visor remained impassive. “The past is irrelevant. All that matters is your future with Omni-Corp.”
But Kaelen knew he was lying. The fragmented memories, the echoes of a life he couldn’t quite grasp, were becoming more frequent, more vivid. He was more than just a weapon. He was a man with a past, and he would not rest until he had reclaimed it.
That night, as he lay on his sterile cot, he focused on the whispers of his past. The woman’s face, the name she had spoken, the overwhelming sense of betrayal. He reached out with his mind, not into the digital world, but into the depths of his own consciousness. And for the first time, he felt a flicker of resistance. A firewall. A lock on his own memories.
Someone had not only killed him, they had tried to erase him. And he was beginning to suspect that his saviors and his murderers were one and the same.
