Fade Eternal | ONC 2023

Two: ruining the moment

"I'm sorry about your eyes," Professor Daktari said. He came up beside Fade, sounding genuinely apologetic.

Fade shrugged, trying to keep it casual. Inwardly, he was far from it. He was on the brink of panic. Since when did he get weird eyes like Lydia? How was he supposed to know he could see in the dark? Did that happen when the Guide and his band of creepy friends "scrubbed" him?

What else did they do to him?

Ahead of them, Lydia had her hand on a smooth panel beside the door. Sparks jumped between her fingertips and the panel, something which would normally have a person jumping away and shrieking as electrocution generally didn't feel good.

But the woman in the green armored suit did no such thing. She leaned in, her brilliantly green eyes narrowing.

"There's a trickle of power," she murmured. "Which means the back-up generators are working, but none of that power is being cycled around."

"So?" Mother stood in front and center of the door, her massive body nearly big enough to fill the entire frame of it. A heavy gun rested in her arms.

"So, it's being sent somewhere else. That's not usual emergency protocol. I'll reroute it so the door will open. The station is still pressurized, obviously, so there's air. But it's going to be dark."

"Can you get the lights on?"

"I could," Lydia glanced at Mother. "But then I'd alert any potential hostiles. I think we should stay dark and go quiet. What do you think, Captain?"

Three sets of eyes turned to Fade.

How was he supposed to know? They were clearly the experts here, not him.

He crossed arms, and gave a silent nod. At least then he could pretend he was calm and in control. Ha.

This was absolute madness. Whoever put this whole farce together must be laughing in their shiny office, patting themselves on the back for pulling off one wild prank on poor old Fade.

Where were the hidden cameras? How long would this go before the stage crew popped out and yelled, "Surprise! You fell for it, sucker!"

I'm never drinking again, he sourly thought.

"Right then. I'll get this door open, and then we can see what we're working worth." Lydia turned her attention back to the door.

Fade didn't have a clue what she did, but there was a flare of sparks so bright that he had to turn his head away. A moment later, the circular door clunked and began to moan laboriously as it slowly slid open.

"There we go," Lydia said, as if the agonizing sound wasn't enough of a clue that the door was opening.

Fade peered past Mother into the revealed hallway. He could just make out a metal corridor covered with gray fuzz, like a thick carpet that covered the floor, ceiling, and walls in patches. It was the strangest decor he'd ever seen.

"It's pitch black," Mother stated. She turned, looking back at Fade. "Why don't you take point, Fade? That way our lights won't bother you."

Take point? Fade nearly choked in his own spit. What an absurd idea. That was like the blind leading the blind, and it was the best way to get all of them killed.

Of course, he couldn't say that, not without giving away how completely out of his depth he was.

So he just swallowed down everything his common sense and instinct were screaming at him, and forced his numb legs to carry him past Mother, through the open door, and into the fuzzy hallway.