Anthem's Fall

Chapter Three

Beyond the tall, slender windows of the hall, a foreboding violet daybreak ascended silently into the black skies over the rooftops and skyscrapers of Sejeroreich. The low sun, a shadowy and alien effigy of its noon form, lingered behind a veil of motionless dark clouds on the horizon. Emperor Faris’s face was grave. “Yes, I believe it is time you are all made aware of what we know. There is something that must be seen. We believe it is directly related to the attacks. A private feed was connected to our network from a research and development facility in Municera. We had been following the progress of scientists working on a long-term multifield project. Much of their work is too complex to delve into, but Pral Nerol was exploring a new technology.”

Everyone in the ring of seats shifted anxiously. Pral Nerol was a name known by all. He was a brilliant scientist and inventor. A year never passed without Pral Nerol releasing a breakthrough technology of some kind. What had Pral Nerol created this time?

“From what I understand,” Emperor Faris continued. “The research and development has been ongoing for a number of years now. Councillor Harken, perhaps you could enlighten us?”

“Certainly,” Councillor Harken said. “The project was called Operation Felix Rises. Pral Nerol proposed that he had the technological means to bestow Sejero anatomical and physiological traits upon entities created in a laboratory. According to what Nerol told us, the end result would be a highly advanced machinelike being fabricated with our very own genes. The important part, as it relates to us now, was that Nerol believed these Felixes could be capable of rivaling even the most powerful Sejero warrior.”

A troubled tiding fell upon the War Hall. No technology or inanimate weapon could ever match the natural power of an Imperial First Class warrior. Every substance in existence fell inferior to Sejero flesh and muscle.

“How could blunt materials possibly have the strength to match that of the Primus?” General Portid could be heard calling over the loud rabble of vociferous objections. “Sejero blood makes us impervious. No such element exists!”

“Silence!” Emperor Faris shouted over the ruckus and nodded for Councillor Harken to continue.

 Councillor Harken shook his head. “All we can say for sure is that Pral Nerol’s goal was to transform inorganic materials into functional tissues using our own hereditary makeup. Meaning, in theory, these Felixes could have the same physical characteristics as a natural Primus and therefore may have inherent Sejero traits. That is my understanding of it.”

“Impossible,” General Portid insisted, and many nodded in agreement.

“Emperor Faris,” Councillor Harken said. “Perhaps it would simplify matters to play the video recording of Nerol’s laboratory. I believe the footage speaks for itself.”

Emperor Faris’s shoulders sunk back into his throne and he raised a resigned hand. “Show it.”

An image flickered to life upon a large screen, and some councillors turned in their seats to see it. Not a sound could be heard in the War Hall as the councillors watched with unblinking attention. They saw the older man they recognized as Pral Nerol. The lines and creases in his face had multiplied in recent years, but the withering of his appearance seemed to have done little to slow his ingenuity.

Nerol’s cluttered laboratory was visible in the grainy background. A few researchers were with Nerol; men and women clad in white coats moved across the field of vision. Test tubes and gadgets of every description were scattered upon stainless steel tables. The far wall was lined with monitors rapidly cycling through data. Curiously, the palpable tension inundating the War Hall seemed to be equally matched by the blatant trepidation among the research team in the video. Eyes darted nervously, brusque orders were exchanged, and—aside from Pral Nerol—everyone in the laboratory looked on edge.

The ring of councillors focused on a striking sight in the video. A large raised steel platform was built into the center of the laboratory. What they saw on the platform caused a number of the councillors to frown in affronted bewilderment. On top of the platform were four unconscious Primus, two men and two women. Each lay naked and prostrate on the cold steel. All four seemed to be in a profoundly deep sleep, their faces still and lifeless. Yet they did not appear altogether dead. Their unscarred skin held a visible warm touch of life, and they did not have the stiff macabre look of corpses.

Pral Nerol was busy examining the numerous computer screens before he casually turned to the unconscious men and women.

“We watch a video when we should be out fighting!” General Portid shouted suddenly, breaking the confused silence of the War Hall.

“Be quiet, General Portid, or you will be escorted out of this Council,” Emperor Faris commanded.

The audio in the video initiated, and the nondescript beeping and whirring sounds of the busy laboratory filled the War Hall. Pral Nerol’s voice crackled through the video feed.

“Hello and good morning to all that may be watching. You are witness to the final stage of our research project, Operation Felix Rises. We come to you from the illustrious Imperial research complex in the heart of Municera. With me in the lab are my research assistants, Argos Trace, Cintha Loh, and Vera Gray. Imperial warrior Von Krass has also been gracious enough to join us, as a precautionary measure.”

A thick-limbed, enormous man dressed in Imperial armor stepped into the screen. Von Krass’s broad shoulders took up a large portion of the background, and he stood many feet over the scientists’ heads.

Expressions of confusion were exchanged among the watching councillors and generals. General Portid’s eyes narrowed, and even he now gave the video his full attention. Von Krass was an Imperial First Class, one of its most powerful members.

The Epsilon empire had a clearly defined power hierarchy, even within the ranks of the Imperial Classes. In a race unmatched physically by any creation of nature or science, strength was highly glamorized. Somewhat paradoxically, the greatest creation of the Primus civilization was tested in brutally archaic and barbarous combat. Prowess was tested in highly publicized one-on-one physical duels. Deaths during these competitions were common. The enormous soldier standing among the academics in the laboratory was one of the greatest fighters of his era. Only several living individuals were more powerful, two of whom were the man now sitting on the throne and his son Prince Vengelis Epsilon.

The same question now ran through everyone’s mind: why would Von Krass himself be at a research laboratory in Municera?

Von Krass nodded to Nerol. He looked like a tremendous sequoia looking down upon a meager oak, his head nearly touching the ceiling; a true Imperial First Class soldier. Pral Nerol examined the readings on a scrolling computer monitor. “The Felixes are ready to be initiated at any moment now.”

Pral Nerol wiped sweat from his brow and turned to direct the assistants. He motioned to Von Krass, and the giant warrior visibly readied himself. It was evident to the councillors that behind the guise of Nerol’s confidence there was a cause for concern in the laboratory. But what potential danger could possibly have required the likes of Von Krass? Uneasiness grew with each passing moment among Nerol’s assistants.

“It is my intention to have these Felixes take the place of the hundreds of thousands of low-ranked warriors who die unnecessarily in combat and training each year,” Nerol said as he examined the many computer monitors. He sat down at a keyboard and began to type. “The initiation process for Felix One has begun. We will awaken the Felixes one at a time. Twenty seconds until Felix One attains consciousness.”

A thick silence filled the laboratory and the War Hall.

“Fifteen seconds.”

“Sir, there’s a hormonal anomaly occurring,” an assistant murmured.

“Ten seconds,” Nerol said as the screens flashed through vital signs.

“Sir, the brain waves aren’t matching our projections.”

“Five seconds.” Nerol remained expressionless.

“Sir?”

Pral Nerol looked up from the keyboard to their creation—the Felix—which lay naked on the lab table. “It should awaken any moment.”

Everyone in the laboratory turned to the still body of Felix One. The assistants drew their gaze away from their charts to the peculiar male body.

A long uncertain moment ticked past. Then, just as it seemed the researchers were going to have to retreat back to the drawing boards, a faint spasm traveled through the still body. The pale figure slowly sat up with its upper body, its back as straight as a board, its legs stretched and still against the cold steel. The movement seemed unnatural, as though the man’s body were not merely sitting up after a deep sleep, but after death itself.

The Felix then sat completely motionless, its palms resting on its knees. Its eyes remained closed, chest moving in and out with slow shallow breaths.

“Felix One, I am Pral Nerol. Your creator,” Nerol said, staring at the Felix’s closed eyelids.

One of the assistants swiveled his chair and looked at the Felix in confusion. “The behavioral modifications we installed should have prohibited the first Felix action until it was ordered by us. Something is wrong—very wrong. Pral?”

“I know. Stay calm,” Nerol said, staring inquisitively at Felix One. “Felix One, do you hear me?”

 After a pause, the Felix’s eyelids slowly fluttered open, revealing strangely piercing blue eyes. The retinas were emitting a hint of blue glow, providing the face with a strange and deranged visage. Felix One stared at Nerol expressionlessly for a moment before turning its luminous gaze to the rest of the laboratory. Its attention rested for a moment on the other three Felixes unconscious beside it. Although Felix One’s features remained impassive, an unmistakable alertness conveyed from it, as though it was trying to unravel the reality into which it had awoken.

Pral Nerol turned and motioned to one of the assistants, and she tremulously approached the male body to determine initial vital signs. She gently pressed her fingers into the Felix’s right arm to take blood pressure readings. Slowly and deliberately, Felix One reached over and took hold of her forearm with its hand.

“Sir? What is happening?” she said and then winced, a sudden panic rising in her voice. “It’s squeezing me, Pral. It’s squeezing me!”

“Felix One, let go of her arm.”

The male body, the empty vessel, sustained its grip on her arm as it stared blankly at the far wall. Its face looked inanimate, its eyes like a doll. Felix One turned and stared with its brilliantly cold blue gaze into the assistant’s rapidly welling eyes.

Von Krass took a lumbering step forward from the corner.

“It’s squeezing me!” the assistant suddenly screamed out as her eyes bulged at the tightening grip on her forearm. A cowed confusion claimed the room, and everyone seemed unsure of how to act. The Felix then turned its wrist slightly. A grotesque popping sound pierced the lab as though a hunk of cement had fractured, and Felix One pulled the assistant’s forearm clean away from her body at the elbow.

Felix One held her arm and examined it indifferently as she spun on her feet with a screeching moan and collapsed to the floor in instantaneous shock. Nerol and his assistants lurched backward against the computer monitors in disbelief, sending contraptions clattering to the floor. Felix One slowly moved its legs over the side of the steel pedestal and stood with its bare feet. It looked down upon the assistant convulsing on the laboratory floor. The Felix brought its attention from her—gasping and convulsing in agony—back to her dismembered arm as if trying to understand her behavior. It raised a foot into the air and brought it to a rest on the side of her face, pinning her head against the floor. She let out a momentary shriek of terror as the Felix leaned forward and applied pressure.

The circle of councillors looked away in mingled horror and disgust as the woman’s skull audibly collapsed like an eggshell.