Is This Enough ||MxM || Lgbtq+

Chapter 2

Chadwick Walker's P.O.V

I stood in the sickbay of the Acrima Building, my vision clouded with a thick fog of horror.  Bombarded with the pained cries of the wounded soldiers and the strong smell of antiseptics.

My stomach churned as I looked at Leonardo, his body battered and broken, the once-pristine clothes he wore now tattered and stained with blood. His face was a map of deep gashes, the blood trickling down his cheeks in slow, crimson streams. I ran a hand through my hair, my fingers trembling as frustration washed over me.

Few hours had passed since the traumatic event occurred. Creatures contaminated and the radiation had diminished, even though the condition was far from perfect, the border lines were still shut.

This idyllic paradise where its citizens could own and share wealth and resources destroyed by animal carcasses and corpses filling the streets, being carted off to the incinerator.

Located in a secluded corner of the world, the city was under the rule of a single-party system, which had been installed following a successful revolt decades before. My great grandfather was a key figure in this revolution, one of the strong and powerful leaders that overthrew the monarchy to bring about a new age of communism.

No one seemed to disagree with the existing leadership, and no revolts seemed on the horizon. Religion was of little consequence in our lives outside of the prophecies of the doomsday fanatics.

The Acrima Technical Unit has been in existence for generations, with a constant evolution of its mission and leadership. Now it is one of the top-tier organizations in the world, renowned for its robotics and advanced military hardware, allowing its users to gain an in-depth understanding of the world.

I ran my fingernails over my arm and an inquiry spilled from my lips: "What do we have here?" My stomach sank as Deborah spun around, her red-rimmed eyes sombre and a tablet clutched in her hand. It was clear that she was summoned due to the recent events.

She was taken aback, her voice trembling as she spoke. "We discovered him. . . lying still, unresponsive.

His body was covered in scrapes and gashes, it's like he'd been dragged through hell." Her eyes flickered away, clearly disturbed by the memory of the scene.

I clenched my fists tighter, nails digging into my palms as I tried to steady my breath. "When will he wake up?"

She hesitated, looking as though the question itself pained her. "We don't know," she said quietly, her gaze dropping to the floor. "His condition... it's severe. He's stable for now, but until he wakes up, we can't say much more."

What did she know?! This wasn't time for dillydallying. What good was her degree if she was going to let it be used as a crutch for excuses? Right on cue, my brilliant head of research strutted in with his signature cropped, spiky hairstyle and lab coat swishing behind him.

I held my hands behind my back, gripping my wrist with a firm grasp, "Get him ready for his mission. There is still a lot of ground to cover."
He hesitated, looking uneasy, but pushed forward with his objection. "Sir, if I'm not mistaken, he's too weak to even get up!"

My lips thinned making for an awkward, strict smile, "Make it happen! I'm not throwing out money for excuses, only results!"

His eyes were wide with terror as he stared at me. There was no time to be scared, I needed action. "MOVE, MOVE, MOVE. Every second counts!"

Storming back to my office, I left him to fumble through the mess on his own. Honestly, if you want something done right, you've got to do it yourself. I gave my arm an exasperated scratch, this time with more force than necessary.