somebody ; minsung

XXXII ; revolution

The group scatters — Jai and Seoyeon split up while Haruko and I run back to the elevator. The doors close, the numbers tick down to the lobby. We slip past the receptionists and get onto the elevator to the Sub-levels. I can barely hear myself think over the machine's rumbling.

The elevator lands on level sub-26 and the noise fades. Haruko's breath hitches.

"Do you hear that?"

I listen closely, activating my augmented hearing. Someone is screaming for help.

I grab the doors and force them open, running out of the elevator. Haruko is close behind. The hallway blurs, the voices sharpen.

"Tell us what you know!"

"Stop! I don't know anything — please stop!"

Jisung is down, bloody, grasping at the floor, while two guards drag him out of the room by his legs. The ankle bound with an electric monitor is only inches away from the threshold.

I blow into the room, my armour slamming one of the guards against the wall hard enough to knock him unconscious. Haruko takes the other, bashing his face against the floor — his headgear cracks open.

Jisung is crawling toward me. I drop to my knees, wiping the blood off his face. His eye is bruised and his lip is split.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," I say, "I didn't get here fast enough. Don't move, you're hurt."

"I-I'm fine, Minho, I promise. Are you okay? What's going on? The revolt isn't happening now, is it?"

"It's happening." Haruko is crushing the weapons to scraps. "And it's getting messy upstairs, we're gonna get you out of here."

Jisung looks up at me, a question in his eyes.

"I'll be okay," I answer, "I'll find you after everything has settled down."

"Unless the androids pick us off one by one," Haruko says. "Jai thinks the BEI scientists are planning to sic the droids on us."

"Jesus Christ, they'd really..." Jisung sighs. "No, it's okay — Minho destroyed one months ago."

"Really?" I say. "Was it camouflaged?"

His face falls. "They can camouflage now?"

"Well that's encouraging," Haruko mutters.

"No no no, I'm sure you'll be able to handle them," Jisung says, though his expression says otherwise. "Enable your motion sensors, it should at least give you an idea of where they are."

I do as he says. Flickers of light outline Haruko's movements, Jisung's fingers fidgeting, the blades of the fan high on the wall.

"Alright, let's get moving," Haruko says. "Jai's probably shitting his pants by now."

I press the passcode into the ankle monitor and Jisung kicks it off. I put my arm around him, help him to his feet. Haruko looks up and down the hallway and motions for us to follow.

"I should stay and help," Jisung says. "I can go to the control room and try to locate the droids."

"There's no need," Haruko replies. "You've been shot at and beat up enough. Besides, your safety is important to all of us."

"Your safety is important too. I can't just abandon you all."

"No," I say, "I don't want you anywhere near—"

A flash of light in my peripheral vision. It's gone in a second. I keep my eyes on the empty hallway, I don't blink.

"Haruko, take him," I say.

Jisung takes my arm. "Minho—"

Haruko sweeps him into her arms and runs down the hallway. I raise my fists slowly.

Then my back is slamming to the floor, a phantom hand choked around my neck. All I can see are wisps of light, no heat signature, no signs of life.

I grab at the empty air until my hands catch something — I drive it to the floor, trying to straddle it. A force rams into my stomach and I bash into the wall. In a second the flickers of light are at the other end of the hallway, disappearing around the corner.

I push myself to my feet and give chase. The elevator is in use; I pivot into the stairwell. I touch the back of my head and my hand comes back bloodied.

I burst out the door into the lobby and something crashes into me, slams me against the marble wall. I make a grab for it — and then it says my name.

"Fuck — Minho, stop, it's Seoyeon! The droids, they're here!"

The dim room is flashing with lights, barely any heat, everywhere the sound of bodies hitting the floor. The receptionists are backed against the wall, Jisung and Jai are ducked behind the front desk, I can't see Haruko anywhere. The glass walls are shielded with a metal shutter, blocking the view of the plaza outside.

A light blasts toward me — I dive out of the way as a crater is blown in the marble wall. My armour whips out but doesn't snag anything.

"Camo, you idiot!" Seoyeon vanishes, a glint of light. I run into the middle of the lobby, trying to attract attention, and shift into camouflage mode.

Something coils around my ankle and trips me to the floor — my armour shoots out, catches, squeezing tight like a manacle. I stagger to my feet, one arm a shield, the other a sword slashing through the air. It nicks the mark — a portion of its armour appears, sparking a greenish grey.

A piercing scream steals my focus. Haruko flickers into sight, hovering midair in the hands of a ghost.

Her arm is torn off her body.

"No!" I shout.

She drops to the floor. Suddenly the ghost's armour materializes, a grey android, as it splits in two, an invisible blade ripping down the centre. It falls, leaking blue fluid all over the floor.

"Junghwa! Help Minho!"

I recognize the voice immediately. It's Lý. She and Junghwa came for us.

The hard grip vanishes from my ankle, whips out and slams into a streak of light flying toward me. Junghwa's armour flickers as he hits the wall, falls to the floor.

I thrust my sword out again but something coils around it, forces me face-down to the ground, pushing hard as a one-ton weight on my back. My armour flickers in and out, I can hear it cracking and splitting.

"Stop!"

Jisung runs up and bashes a broom against the invisible body.

My armour spikes out of my back and the ghost dives to miss it. I jump to my feet, grab the nearest flash of light and drive it backward — back back back, crashing through the metal shutter, through the glass doors and out into the plaza.

Glass shatters. People scream. My arm is a blade, piercing the droid through its chest. Dead eyes set in a mechanical head — the invisibility is draining out of its body. Scientists carrying severed limbs, injured cyborgs, guards without their gear — they come out after me, nightmares spilling out into the plaza.

I look up to meet eyes staring down at me from every direction. The passersby have stopped, paralyzed. They know. They see.

This time, we won't let it escape their memory.