Integration

t w o | the beginning

I wake to a nauseating mixture of lights and voices bashing me all at once. I am strapped to a table within a sterilized, boxed room, no recollection as to where I am or how I got here.

When my vision finally clears, I scan the slew of white-masked faces until I spot the one of the Index woman I had a conversation with weeks ago. I watch her closely from beyond the glass and await some form of recognition to take ahold of her glare─to offer me reassurance, or at the very least some form of comfort.

But her glare never changes; it remains filled to the brim with hostility.

I take a deep breath and focus on the voice slowly coming in over the intense ringing within my ears. There's so many that it becomes hard to keep track─they're all loud and frantic, a daze which gradually dies when my straps are released.

I sit forward, my body sluggish and heavy. It feels...different, somehow. Like it's not mines. And the silence that so suddenly engulfed the room. Did I do something wrong? Why was I strapped in the first place?

"Seven," a voice calls out. I turn my attention to the masked duo. "How do you feel? Any headaches, joint pain, or nausea?"

How do I feel?

"Like someone pulled a Cosby with my drink."

I cup my face within my hands and sigh as I begin to relax a bit. I notice that this, too, seems to put a few of the masked figures beyond the duo at ease. Some tend to the beeping machines surrounding us, while others remove their masks and begin chatting up a storm with fellow coworkers. It's weird.

For a few moments, the lingering sensation of unease just won't rid itself from my head. It clouds my thoughts. Maybe there's something they're not telling me, or maybe the deafening silence is filling the idle void within my head. Whatever the case, I don't like it.

I let out a defeated sigh, doing my best to remain level-headed.

The male of the duo finally speaks after a short, whispered conversation with his partner. "We're going to continue with the tests now, Seven," he says. "Hopefully it'll help you grow accustomed to your new body as soon as possible."

My mind goes blank. "New body?" My eyes fall from his glare onto my hands, and I feel something instantly begin to eat away at my sanity. Disgust. Anger. It disappears so quickly that I can't pinpoint exactly what it was, but one thing is painfully clear─I don't believe what my eyes are showing me.

My hands aren't my own; they're soft pink in texture, slender, with a thumb and three elongated fingers. I also begin to take notice of how much taller I appear next to the man, despite still being fully seated and slouched. I can hear partially into the next room. My vision is far better than I remember. A various amount of superior differences quickly make themselves known to me, and I can't help but grin in anticipation.

The man gives me a few sets of orders─punch this and kick that. Once they're over, I silently follow him out the room, down a hall, and into the waiting area on the other side of the glass, where I discover the woman from before, her glare still as hostile as ever.

He leaves the two of us alone, although it takes quite a while for her to say anything. "I take it this isn't what you had in mind," she finally questions.

I nod. "You guys never mentioned anything about having my body taken."

"That's because the process is entirely reversible. Once you've completed your task, your consciousness will be returned to your human body and your memories erased," I watch something flash behind her glare. "As for the details of your mission, I'm sure you must've surmised it pretty well by now." And I have.

My first encounter with a Sparrow was back during the Scourge, a war in which the opposing terrorist introduced and used them as BOW's. Years later, Index discovered that they were indeed a separate race of individuals residing on a planet which had mysteriously appeared within our solar system; Ephemeral they named it.

Never could I have possibly guessed that I'd become one─or end up fighting the same war twice.

"You were only seven years of age when you led hundreds of Sparrows to a victory that almost cost us our lives," the woman continues. "Codename Seven, one of the many ruthless child soldiers forcibly drafted into a war you knew nothing about─out of all soldiers, Index and F3AR alike, you shined the most, and also have the most blood on your hands. You should know the Sparrows better than anyone, which is why we need your help on this mission."

She heaves a sigh, softly pressing her back to the wall. Her hand moves of its own accord, swiftly fetches a cigarette and lighter from her pockets. "Ephemeral is the first planet we've ever discovered to be habitable for humans. It has a fresh oxygen supply, limitless amounts of reserves, fertile soil, water, anything you could possibly dream of. The Earth is dying. At most, the planet only has about two years left in it."

"So what's the problem," I question, my eyes trained onto the window─my reflection. The silver lockets of hair and piercing yellow eyes; my face slender, a pair of slim, metallic horns a little above my forehead no bigger than a human pinky.

I finally have that change in appearance I've always longed for, but at what cost?

"The Sparrows," she continues. "Their hostility towards us is abnormal, as is everything else that breathes on Ephemeral. Plants, wildlife, all of it desires nothing more than the bloodshed of humans, and we believe it's the Sparrows' doing."

"If that's the case, why even try to take the planet? Or send me down there like this?"

"A vast majority of the wildlife there isn't naturally aggressive towards Sparrows. Get rid of them and we also rid ourselves of any other inconveniences humans may face─unless that's a problem for you."

"Orders are order," I reply. "I'm a soldier first and foremost. And I'll do anything to forget that."

The woman smiles. She walks towards me and extends her hand in the calmest of manners. It's professional, like she's done it hundreds of times. "I'm glad to know we were correct in seeking you out. I'm Helena, your commander for this operation."

And I take her hand firmly in mines, shaking it. "Can't imagine everyone being onboard with this plan of yours. There must've been some complications."

"A few actually," she says while offering a cigarette. I politely refuse. "Your girlfriend for starters. She seemed completely appalled by the idea. Genocide she called it."

"All wars are basically genocide. Blood is shed and people are killed."

"But that doesn't make the winners monsters! I'm no monster! I do what I do for the sake of our race! We tried negotiating with the Sparrows peacefully; taught them multiple languages, gave them medicine, weapons, and even blueprints of various things. But they refuse to cooperate, so I'm not in the wrong here!"

I take notice of how quickly her personality does a one-eighty.

What I can't seem to understand is why she cares about public opinion so much. A mission is a mission regardless, no matter who is subjectively with or without reason. The losers are wrong and the winners are right. The weak die and the strong survive. It's how I was raised─the very first thing I was told as I shot my family down in cold blood; I wasn't wrong for living. They were for dying.

"That kind of thinking will get you nowhere in war," I finally say to her, my voice coming out a lot sterner than expected. "The real struggle isn't born from denying the fact that you're a monster─it comes from accepting it, then deciding how to live with the blood on your hands."

"It's never that easy..."

"Spill enough blood and it becomes easy." But if she processes anything I say, she doesn't show it.

Helena finishes the last of her cigarette with a sigh, then mutely motions towards the door before speaking. "Training begins in a few hours. Follow the doctor outside to your designated area and complete the tasks you're assigned."

"Roger," I nod, my mind still focused on the lingering silence, but my legs carrying me to the door.