Within the next two weeks, two things happened. The first was the removal of my cast, and I was to begin physical therapy to better use my leg. The second, and one that I predicted, was that after two more weeks we were suddenly declared citizens of the republic. Most of us celebrated, but something in those words, despite not being laced with malice... left me uneasy. Even when we were taken from the base we were in for the month, taken to a proper city filled with people of all backgrounds, races, identities, my unease didn't go away. Even when Ernst took us to his home, letting us call it our own, it did nothing to take away the unease, which had now become anxiety, from my mind and heart. Even meeting Frederica didn't ease my feelings, the whole gimmick with the little sister thing didn't ease anything, but I doubt anyone noticed that from me. I ate dinner as fast as I could and retired to bed earlier than anyone else, now that was likely a red flag since I usually stayed up and chatted for a while after dinner.
However, no one seemed to ask me about it, and it began the time we in Spearhead Squadron had never had in some time, normalcy. Those of us who could went out and got jobs, those of us who couldn't went and did what we wanted... I decided to write a book. What was it about? Well, it was an autobiography, the life of an 86 who held knowledge of this world, shown to him in something like a dream. For a few days, I never left the room, the only means of acknowledgement was the maid bringing me food, knowing I wouldn't leave the room for it for some reason. Eventually, Kaie came into the room, "Hey... Grey. Can I come in?" I looked to her, a smile managed to cross my lips for the first time in days, "Yeah, sure, come in." When she came over, I was writing about meeting Spearhead Squadron for the first time, since the beginning of this life was a little hard for me to remember. She said, "Are you... writing about your life?" I nodded, "Yeah... ever since we got here, I had a uneasy feeling. I guess... I'm not fit for life off the battlefield."
Kaie seemed to shake when I said that, I could tell since she was leaning on my shoulder. She turned my head to face her, my smile was no longer there, "Grey, you can't be serious. Come on, let's do something, maybe that'll help." I looked to the computer, thought for a moment, then nodded, "Yeah, I can at least try." While working on my autobiography, for the next month, I went out and did things with Kaie and the other members of the squadron... but it only made me realize something. Everyone was truly happy, even Kaie was smiling far more than she used to back at the base. But me, I felt empty, distant, like this was something I couldn't get used too despite living such a life before I came to this world. I think that, with this holy night or whatever it was approaching, I realized I think I couldn't live without the battlefield. When the snow began to fall one night, I had finished my autobiography, the end stating that despite everything, I couldn't seem to find a way to become what is considered normal. Under an anomalous identity, I send in the book to a publisher, just to see what they thought of it.
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As I walked down the street today, I noticed there were a lot of people out and about, not really sure as to why. But I was out today to buy something, that thing was something akin to an iPod, it let me plug in a headset and listen to this world's music. It was different, something to listen too... to sound like I was wearing a pararaid again. I kept remembering the times I used to listen to music back on Earth, I used to sing, dance, and bug my friends by playing the same damn song over and over. But now, after all I've been through, I can't even tap my feet to the beat. It wasn't the same, how could it be? As I walked past an officer, that was when I heard it, the movement of mechanical legs. My heartrate rushed, my mind panicked, I looked to the officer and stole his gun, my body moved on its own. I pushed past the people rapidly running the checks on the pistol, I heard shouting as I pushed through, people beginning to scatter.
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He Who Hears Voices - 86
FanfictionOut of every world you could be reborn into, Grey fell into the wrong one. He was born as an 86, but the worst of it was he could hear the voices. They yelled at him, told him to die, to kill, to live, to fight. His whole squad was dead, and he was...
