Darklight: Precipice

Part 36: Convalescence Can Sometimes Be Peaceful

Soran hadn't been home, he couldn't even think about coming face to face with Natasha. He'd heard that she had visited him whilst he lay inthe coma as his brain rebuilt itself, but she had made it very clear that she wasn't impressed by his use of the failsafe mechanism. She had not returned his calls, nor turned up after he left messages thathe was leaving the hospital. So Soran was currently living in one of the small one-bedroom official residences in a high-rise building within the Utopian governmental buildings of Utopia City.

It was a quiet afternoon for Soran, who was sat quietly reading a book and ensuring his body healed. He was content enough, but as he looked out the window he yearned for the outside world, to train and start the long road back to his physical peak. This entire ordeal of inhibition, almost dying, having his brain turned to soup... it had taught Soran the importance of his physical form. Even with his numerous daily injections ruining his body, he knew he could train harder and push harder to get back to physical peak. Pain was merely a physical construct, after all.

The sound cut into the room immediate and with deafening effect, and Soran cried out in pain as he held his hands over his ears. Glancing out of the window he couldn't see anything that would justify a sounding of the primary alert siren – the Utopian warning system that signalled when the city was under attack. But as Soran grabbed the DarkLight sword, the world warped around him and he found himself facing Draz in the Displacement Chamber.

"Fuck,Draz" Soran said, doubling over with nausea again. "A little warning would be good".

"No time" Draz replied with no hint of apology in his voice. A tinny voice came over the intercom.

"Incoming, High Patriarch".

The obelisk in the centre of the room extended upwards as purple energy crackled from its tip. Soran and Draz's hair reacted to the energy standing in the air as a bolt of energy struck out from the top of the obelisk and Natasha appeared in another part of the chamber.

"What the hell...." Natasha started as she gagged at the spatial distortion that she had just been subject to.

"Sorry Natasha" Draz said as she glared at Draz then looked at Soran. He tried to help her up, but she didn't accept his hand.

"Draz?" Soran asked, clearly irritated.

"Something's attacking the city" Draz replied quickly. "The CCN servers are being breached as we speak and every security team we send in is failing to report back. Our sensors can't figure out what's going on, so we're going in".

"We?" Natasha said, sounding surprised. "Me?"

"Yes" Draz replied. "The Crystalline Matrix is lighting up like a storm around the area. We need your expertise on scene". Soran glared at Draz.

"You're not putting her in danger" he growled.

"That's rich coming from you" Natasha spat back. "If you need me, I'm here Draz. I can look after myself". Her look at Soran was meant to cut, and it did.

"Good" Draz replied. "Because we're going now".

He pressed a button on the top of the pen-like device in his hand, and the chamber stretched and warped around the three of them.

***

She was running through the corridor of her lab, desperate to get to a window. Why was it that at times like these she was always in the basement!? It was the airship crash all over again. She was hitting the elevator call button but it was taking too long. Three stories underground and the elevator was on floor 5. Typical.

She pushed through the door on her right, looking up at the staircase that spiralled around the edge of the shaft that lead to the first sky-lounge on the 20th floor. No time to run. She didn't like using her abilities in public buildings – the energy dissipation effects could damage the building if she wasn't careful. But something had set off the alarm systems and Lady Kisa wasn't one to run from people in need.

A glyph of pure white light materialised on the floor beneath her and she was flung into the space around which the staircase snaked.