Murdersphere Mosaic [ManXMan] [BoyXBoy]

Chapter 7 Part 1 Sanity Retention Mode

"Don't worry about it." I think, looking around my apartment.

After seven thousand years it looks the same. There isn't even any dust.

I stop thinking, feeling the seizure starting to play on my nerves.

"It has not been seven thousand years." I say aloud. "Has it?"

I query the monitor in the room. It takes a few moments for me to remember I have to use verbal commands to interact with it. My mind aches for the presence of the controller's linkages into my head. I reach for access to information and nothing is there. Just reaching out hurt, like trying to move a freshly amputated limb. The act, like Recalling spells, triggers a cascade of micro-seizures that leave my hands trembling.

Without an immediate threat to root me in the present, my memories run wild, drowning me a cataract of hallucinations.

I feel naked and exposed. I crave the presence of Cataphract armor, the sealed environment, the surety of sustenance and protection, against the harsh environments on the worlds near the rip in the universe.

I crave the presence of the Controller in the back of my mind, telling me what to do, where to go, keeping me sane in the face things that unravel consciousness, let alone sanity.

I squinne my eyes shut and when I open them I am in the armor again. What I am experiencing flickers back and forth from the apartment to a stony plane under a broad sky of methane clouds with massive mobile atrocities from the bowels of Possibility lumbering through the landscape waiting to be engaged. The period between switching from the memories of the war and back to reality lingers on the war longer and longer. 

The loop drags me deeper into it, my withdrawal on the verge of becoming full blown psychosis.

I breathe, searching my own mind for something, anything to help. I find procedures in case the Controller is destroyed and the soldier is stranded on a planet where he can survive without the armor. 

I act out the procedures, miming releasing the carapace armor, even as the armor in my delusion cracks open and I watch it fall to the ground. The transfer webbing clinging to my skin, coated with the induction fluid that fills the shell when occupied. I pull off the gooey stuff and throw it into the armor's carcass. 

"Self destruct activated." I hear from the armor. "Please retreat to minimum safe distance."

I run into the bathroom and turn on the shower, as cold as possible. Once under the water, I slump to the floor. When I "hear" the armor explode, the seizure abates. The hallucinations subside and I can think again.

I start to cry. I own even less of myself than before and it almost breaks me. The water runs over me, some absorbing into me, and I feel better by inches.

When I am up to standing, I start cleaning myself. The wounds, the bruising and fractures, have healed. The charred blood takes more scrubbing to remove, but soon I am spotless.

When I emerge from the bathroom into the living space, the answer to my question is on the massive monitor on the wall. I have been gone five years, eight months, seven days, and eight hours.

The emergency ticker has been scrolling across the screen.

"There is a large scale hostage situation in Mutant Town. A number of terrorists have taken Guardsmen and non-mutant citizens hostage. Subway service to the area has been stopped. Public transportation has been diverted. The Avengers are en route.

I feel a chill and I think about "Fury's" plan for graduation.

I don't bother dressing, I sheath myself in a darkforce body suit and use one of my new hard won spells to cloak myself in an illusion of invisibility and I launch into the air. I maintain the illusion long enough to get a mile or so from home and I drop it and accelerate, cracking the sound barrier hoping to reach Mutant Town before the Avengers are destroyed.