Mod Superhero (Book 6 STUBBING on Oct 27th)

Chapter 6.30 - Snowflakes

Waking up was much like falling asleep. Emmett wasn't sure exactly when he regained consciousness, only that he had.

He was hanging—chained up, still. He could feel the cold metal of the hooks embedded in his back. Could feel the skin pull taut as he sagged in place. His shoulders, back, and every small muscle he couldn't remember the name of—everything ached. Except that wasn't the right word.

Even with Mutagen-A, his body wasn't invulnerable. His muscles would ache after a long chase. His bones ached after a grueling fight. But this was so much deeper than that. It felt like he'd been gutted and hung up so all his blood would empty, like there was nothing left inside him but pain and it had frozen him solid.

The thought of moving or struggling felt impossible. And if he wanted to cry out, he wasn't sure that he could. His mouth and throat were so dry that breathing hurt. He felt like a husk, left and forgotten about.

Emmett forced himself not to swallow. Forced himself to stay absolutely still.

He was still in the lab, and he wasn't alone.

Voices—Ava Savanus and Bastion. They didn't start quietly, like a whisper, and then grow in volume—the awareness came suddenly. The pair were talking normally, like he was still asleep.

"I have concerns about Emmett Laraway."

"I read your report, Bastion. Or did you add an addendum?"

"No. I wish to reiterate my concerns."

"I thought your report made it clear. I understand that his capabilities and awareness are increasing, but it's within our simulations. We have time before he becomes unmanageable."

"We should placate him. Resume cooperating with him so that he can unlock his memories."

"Wasn't he the one that attacked you? Didn't we also determine that he was lying to us—that he didn't have those memories?"

"Both your statements are correct, but there is a non-zero chance that our truth detection algorithms are flawed. He may still have information about how his brain was created."

Savanus paused her work. "That is a very large assumption for such a small margin of error. I'm more interested in why you can't resolve this train of thought."

Bastion didn't reply, and Savanus continued working.

Emmett didn't dare open his eye. He forced himself to stay calm and still. Even partitioned away his own discomfort.

Emmett's thoughts drifted to his imprisonment. How long had he been locked away?

Emmett searched his memory and felt a stab of pain where his prosthetic right eye used to be. His Heads Up Display was gone, but the data—or lack of it—came to him intrinsically.

TIMESTAMP ERROR DETECTED

APPROXIMATE DATE — UNCONFIRMED

Emmett had lost his connection to TINA and to the outside world. So he had no way of measuring how much time had passed.

He pushed the thought aside. Buried it along with everything else that he didn't need at the moment. And Emmett didn't keep track of how long he hung there while Savanus worked. His only thought was staying still and biding his time.

There was only sound.

Tinks and clacks of metal on metal. Deep groans and snaps of ligaments and bone. Drips of fluid, and echoes of footsteps as Savanus walked around the room.

Part of him wanted to know what she was working on. That small sliver of curiosity made the time feel that much longer—

Until Emmett partitioned that too.