Activated

chapter 4

chapter 4

Falling into the Cold Sleep program was not a spiritual experience, or even a surreal one. Lan found out himself. It was like, well, falling asleep. Falling into a deep, dreamless, eternal sleep. Yes, that was the best way to describe it. 

He was tired of running from his dreams and his thoughts. They always went back to that firestorm, always. He could not think of anything else. He did not want to see, feel, or know it. Not anymore. He found a place he was certain no one could find him, where no one could change what he decided to do.

She had done it too often. But not this time. He would just go to sleep, that was all. He would go sleep and never wake and never come back to make that mistake, that terrible mistake, ever again. People would not find him. People would forget him. It would be better that way. 

He said the words. That was all there was to it. His eyes closed, his head grew heavy, his body became stiff, and he sunk deeper and deeper into heavy slumber, until he did not even feel or know that. He did not say goodbye to the world or to anyone. He did not leave any messages to anyone. They were not needed. He did not even say goodnight. 

But then, he started to wake. His thoughts returned. His awareness of what was beyond his closed eyes returned. His heartbeats became steady. He began to take deeper breaths. 

It felt like someone called out to him, from just beyond sleep, trying to wake him. It was gentle, yet persistent. He did not know how or why. Waking up was not supposed to be possible, not with that program. Maybe he encoded it wrong. Maybe he did not complete the process. But he had read that program and its encode sequence. He did it right. He was not supposed to be feeling like he was going to wake up soon. He could not stop it, whatever it was. He felt his hands and feet, his arms and legs. The heaviness in his head lifted. He heard noises just beyond him. He still felt so tired, even as his body began to loosen and to move. He did not want it, but he could not stop it. 

He opened his eyes. Even in the dim light, he saw her. He figured as much. He did not have a lot of words in him to say. He was still drowsy, still wondering why he was even awake. He just knew she was the reason why. He pleaded, with what few words he could think of. He wanted to go back to sleep. He did not care what she thought about it. He wanted to sleep. So he said the words again. Cold Sleep Activate.

But she encoded for the Override. 

Two lines speared into his left cheek and drew blood. The rest of him trembled and shook as the new code penetrated his lifecodes. He winced and groaned and screamed. His lifecodes hurt. His left cheek hurt more than any ice dagger. 

“I’m sorry, Melancho, I’m really sorry. I had no choice! I had no choice!” 

She said that, too, back then when that happened. 

It hurt so much. It hurt all over. He felt himself drifting off again because of the pain. He could not take it any more. But what was the use of fighting it? He would wake up soon, whether he wanted to or not. The curse of the Override. 

He would be forced to live now. 

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He felt himself lifting from the deep darkness once again. Slowly yet surely. He became aware again of being himself first of all, then of being in a deep darkness, then of lifting from that darkness. He became aware of his arms, his legs, his torso, how stiff they were, how painful they were. Something that happened earlier, that was why his limbs ached so much. He became aware of a surface just under him, hard and cold, and became aware of a soft warmth over him, a thin blanket. 

He was waking.  Damn her. Damn that Beika. 

He felt the stinging of the scars on his left cheek. Two straight long cuts into his cheek. The Override. He was branded now. The scars would heal, but they would stay.