A Future War ~ Future Au TomTord Eddsworld FanFiction

Chapter Nine: Fiction or Reality

(I have put a basic map of the layout of the Red Army base above. I'm not really sure why it is upside down when it isn't generally upside down when I took the photo. Sorry bout that.)

Tom's POV:

I remember the feeling I had in the morning, more than I remember the night itself. One would think that being a part robot or whatever would lessen the effects of what I assumed to be a hangover. Newsflash: It doesn't. Even though the headaches sucked, I haven't really had many since. It has been two weeks since that rebel broke in, and I still don't have much clarity as to what had happened. No one has explained it to me, but I don't really care. With how drunk I was, maybe it's better if I didn't know. It seems just like a fuzzy daze now, and besides, I have been too busy to really think about it.

The last weeks have been uneventful, to say the least, compared to my first days here. It seems to just have been constant training and "getting me back to my old self," as Patryck put it. I haven't seen much of Red Leader, though. Much of my time has been spent alone, or at least being supervised by Paul and Patryck. Even at meals, Red Leader is nowhere to be found. Now that I think about it, I haven't seen Matt really either.

"At ease soldier!"

I stopped in my tracks from the laps I was doing around the training room. I still wouldn't go as far as to say I'm athletic, but I don't have much trouble with exercise. Not anymore, at least.

"Sir, yes, sir!" I salute, facing the Norwegian as he strolls over, grinning with his hands behind his back in a very poised stance. All this soldier stuff just comes naturally to me now.

"Head to your room, soldier. You have gear waiting for you for today's events." His commanding tone puts me off a bit. Before, at least he was semi-friendly to an extent. Now, he clearly portrays the role of the leader. Nothing more, nothing less. Then again, I guess I shouldn't be too surprised. It's not like he is my friend or anything, and I would be wrong for mistaking him for such. Even those he is closest to are just henchmen to him.

Either way, I can't help but obey. I nod and walk past him without another word exchanged between either of us.

I find what is laid out in front of me to be slightly puzzling. On my bed lies the generic uniform I always wear. However, this time, the thin vest has been replaced by a slightly padded one with a few pockets on the front. The pants still seem more on the dressed-up professional side but are a slightly slimmer pair. It also has more pockets than usual. On top of this, there seems to be some kind of protective eyewear that is the same shape as my visor, but seemingly slightly bigger. Lastly, the usual dress shoes have been replaced by a pair of boots that, despite being boots, somehow still seem professional and match the uniform.

There is also a gun.

It's not like the one that I have been training with. The jet-black metal matches the uniform, and to my surprise, is cordless. It is also much bigger and probably heavier than my normal gun. It's strange in many ways. One way of which is the canister on top with a plastic lid that pops open.

I shrug and quickly change in the bathroom. I don't trust that someone won't come barging in with Tords record. Everything, like usual, fits perfectly. I think I actually prefer the slimmer pants compared to my looser ones. These ones provide a surprisingly bigger range of movement. The eyewear is strange due to the already existing oddness of my visor, but I think I can adapt. It's almost as if I were to wear a pair of glasses over another pair of glasses. Finally, I hoist the gun up onto my shoulder with ease and look at myself in the mirror.

I look like a soldier. But that's what I am, right? Yet, why do I still not quite know what I'm fighting for? All the same, I still listen to every command I'm given. I shake these thoughts to focus on the task at hand.