It had been a cold day for February; blustering, vicious winds had torn down several posts on his farm. Gavriel’s farm was a ramshackle affair of an unsteady barn filled with several cows, a coop and three rambling fields of maize.


    They had met him on his property. They played no games, gave no pretenses. Two dozen vehicles carrying a small army stormed onto his property. The dust and noise intermingled with the protesting moos of cows.


    At least 100 soldiers piled out, bristling with machine guns and armour. They had surrounded his home, trapped him and his partner. He had little choice.


    Why had they come back for him? Gavriel couldn’t fathom. He was past his prime, and even his contemporaries had surpassed him. He had already helped them build an empire from blood.


    Reliance was known world-wide as a military force to be reckoned with; a powerful ally for some, a deadly tsunami for others. Gavriel was sure he had escaped, sure that they would move on. The seasoned veteran, was perplexed, unfearful as they pistol-whipped him, taking too long with his thoughts. Blood trickled down his face, swelling. Three soldiers pointed guns and urged him into their truck.


    Maybe he could escape later, he had thought then, as they bound him and his eyes, and drove for a short while. Gavriel hadn’t counted on them injecting him with a material that would put him unconscious.


    How long ago had that been?


    His brain was too disoriented, disconnected from time. Sitting up at the edge of his bed, he shifted focus and took in his surroundings.There were no windows in the room, only flat panelled walls. A door was set into a transparent wall, the outside dim with tubes of harsh florescent lights stripping down the white corridors.


    The click of heels rang dully in the distance. The sound grew louder and sharper until in front of the window marched a white-coated middle-aged woman. Her hair was pulled tight into a no non-sense bun, her eyes peering through glasses at a clipboard as she marched into the room.


    A blank, distracted look on her face morphed into terror when she realized Gavriel was awake. She wiped the shock from her face an instant after, but her eyes shone wildly.


    The adrenaline surging through his body awakened him physically. Instinct kicked in, and he launched himself off the bed. His muscles felt like jelly and he nearly toppled over, landing heavily.


    The nurse screamed, rushing toward the door. Gavriel was lightning-quick, grabbing her from behind and ripping the pen from the clipboard to point at her neck in one flowing movement.


    She struggled for a brief moment before slowing, freezing, realizing her predicament.


    “Keep still,” he ordered. His voice was course and broken from disuse. “Tell me the date.” His voice was coarse and broken, long unused.


    Her voice trembled; she stuttered, “August 2nd, 2054.”


    Six months, unconcious, instead of just killing him. Why would they bother? The puzzle pieces didn’t match up. Dread filled him, and he knew the answer to his next question before asking.


    “Where are we?”


    Her frail voice whispered, “We’re underground, under the city.”


    More harshly: “What city?”


    “Reliance.”


    With one word, he was sent whirling back into the past again. A flood of memories struggled, and one broke through to the surface.


    He was 21 when he first entered the city, nearly 40 years ago. The North was frigid then, with November turning on the heels towards a deep winter. He had stood on the precipice of the tallest building, towering over a sea of construction vehicles feverishly working to ward off the chill. He swept his eyes eastward. Back then, the vew to the bay was clear. The waters were pure, untouched; glittering and beautiful shades of grey. The water was like a diamond, shimmering under the soft light of the cloud-covered sun.


    He stood, watching this, the wind whipping through his jacket and clothes, stealing his breath. Beside him, his new commander also took in sight.


    Rage took him back to the present. He was here, again, in this festering cesspool of a stratocracy. He believed he had escaped; twelve years without any contact, living free from their oppressive military agenda. Twelve years free.


    He held the nurse tightly from behind with one arm and nudged her forward.


    “Start walking. You’re going to lead me to the elevator and take us up.”


    She shook her head emphatically. “I – I can’t,” she said brokenly.


    He said nothing, only pressing the pen deeper into her neck. “Move.”


    They marched into the hallway, towards a distant turn. Their steps echoed loudly, ringing against the walls and almost drowning out the sound of her heavy breathing.


    As they rounded a corner, they faced a row of doors and a closed elevator.


    Gavriel indicated with his free hand, and shoved her towards it. With a quick swipe, the doors squealed open and revealed a generously large elevator. The two stepped on.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    “Ground floor.”


    She shook her head; “This elevator can’t stop on there, only the first floor.”


    Dangerous. This underground hospital was designed to cage him forever, keep him in stasis. They would know of his escape almost immediately. What building were they under?


    It didn’t matter how dangerous it was. There was only one way to go. In moments he stomach-pulling sensation of the elevator pushed them down as they rode upwards.


    It was a long ride, nearly two minutes before he exited, still holding his hostage tightly, as the doors opened wide into a spacious room.


    The ceiling was high, the room well-designed but spacious. Dozens of workstations and cubicles lined the right wall while a large koi fountain and comfortable seating arrangement adorned the left. In the centre was a large ring kiosk. The walls were painted a comforting green, and soft splashes of colour emphasized the plants and natural décor.


    Gavriel noticed some of this, before noticing what was occupying the rest of the space – dozens of hard-eyed soldiers working, suddenly rising, arming themselves with pistols, rifles, and other heavy armament and levelling it in his direction.


    Gavriel searched the room, frustrated to see only one exit – several doors, large with big push bars, all the way on the opposite side of the room. A mere 20 metres, but in between was a sea of guns of death.


    He was out of choices, out of time to choose. He pushed his hostage forward and took steady steps towards the exit, feeling the heavy gaze of violence waiting patiently.


    His eyes caught the eyes of a soldier, taking off their mask, releasing a matte of sweaty grey hair around their temples and burning brown eyes.


    Gavriel froze entirely. The past decade barely touched him; Jacob looked youthful, powerful, and commanding. His fiery eyes matched the cruel and confident smile he levelled at the escapee.


    “Oh Gavriel, you should have stayed asleep,” he laughed, casually marching up. Gavriel gripped the pen so tightly it snapped in his hand.


    “Why?” He shouted, frustration and anger boiling out. “Why not just kill me?”


    Jacob’s eyes narrowed. “I told them it would never work. You were always too smart for your own good. I knew we couldn’t keep you on ice forever.”


    His smile returned. “I’m glad you woke up when I was on duty. I’m glad I’m the one who gets to kill you. I’ve learned so much since last time. Let me show you.”


    The pressure on his brain was immediate. It was like a weight smothering his thoughts, pressing upon his brain, enveloping his mind. It was crushing and painful. It was blinding and beyond all comprehension. Gavriel fought, fought desperate to think, to keep moving, but the intensity broke his concentration and weakened his balance.


    Gavriel maintained some control, his arm still tightly held to the woman, his last life-line against the very real danger from bullets, but he wasn’t sure it mattered.


    Gavriel was dying from acute brain haemorrhaging.


    The pressure was greater, more intense. He could feel the insides of his brain tightening within his skull. Pure redness filled his vision, waxing into a thick blackness. The acrid taste of death of bile choked him, and he lost himself. He succumbed to darkness.


    Laying face down, he felt a familiar gentle cold. Opening his eyes, he saw snow.


    Bewildered, he climbed to his feet. The intensity of the noise and pain was gone. He was standing in a wide, snow-covered field. Snow, quietly falling, fell around him in thickly. The heavy precipitation obscured his sight, and he saw only clouds and a path of round stones that led outward into the depths of the curtains of snow. The air felt pleasant rather than frigid, like a gentle breeze on a warm day.


    Mingled with the gentle sounds, footsteps brushed lightly. A thickly cloaked form emerged from the obscuring squall.


    “Fair meeting, friend,” they called as they approached. The hood shadowed their face, leaving only unreadable grey eyes visible.


    “Where is this? What happened? I was dying, am I-?”


    “No,” the being interrupted. “I have taken you within, to save you and speak with you.”


    “I don’t understand any of this,” Gavriel gestured emphatically. “Where am I?”


    “You will be within for a short while. Listen to my words. I have saved you from death, and I will tell you more. Your son is here, close.”


    “My son?”


    A flash of memory: He saw his son as he last remembered him; a gangly boy of 11, all legs and arms; dark tousled hair, an olive complexion, and a fierce face stamped with childish defiance. The image was distant, faded; lost in the past, half a world away.


    Gavriel shook his head. “How do you know this? What is this?” It was too much, too unreal. The sensations, the world around him, seemed like a drug-induced fever dream.


    “You will be without soon. Luck and destiny have come together. When you awaken you will be able to escape. Gavriel – search for your son, search for the boy, and remember Mercy.”


    The snow seemed to grow thicker and thicker, cutting off his vision. The cloaked figure faded from view; and the gentle sounds of the winter wonderland faded.


    Abruptly, the wail of sirens and the concussive force of an explosion nearby rocked him out of his dreamy state.


    He was prone, back to some sense of reality. His head ached and groaned in protest, but he found himself working his body up. The sound of gunfire ran loudly from multiple directions. Dust wafted thickly, filling his lungs. After a few wheezing attempts he got above the table line and looked about.


    Gavriel was amazed – the front of the building was torn open, two monstrous arms, each the size of whales, swept through the room. Total chaos reigned; soldiers let loose deafening volleys of gunfire. Nearby, someone was lobbing incendiaries towards the hands. Several people had shotguns.


    The world shook as a rocket exploded. The fireball seared his vision, stealing the room. He instinctively ducked, diving below a table. He still caught an intense wave of heat and force that sent him sprawling. His shirt and pants smoked as he clambered back up.


    Though smoking, the monstrosity seemed mostly undamaged and angrier. With incredible speed, the beast swept hard fists through the nearest soldiers. The crunch of their flesh mixed with screams, blood spurting out as they broke upon impact.


    Gavriel’s instincts launched him forward when he saw the opportunity. He ran, vaulting himself over the desk, pitching left and down when he could see, in the corner of his eye, a man toting gun towards him. The spray of bullets went wide overhead as Gavriel tumbled and rolled back into a run.


    Fire licked his feet. He dodged around the smouldering desks, chairs, and splintered hunks of sticks and trees.


    Gavriel picked up speed, sprinting towards the ever closer yawning maw that stretched the front of the building. The monster’s wide, murky black chest filled most of the hole. Gavriel spotted a small spot of light in the corner; a safe haven.


    The building walls grumbled, squealing as structural beams and concrete snapped haphazardly. He threw himself forward, desperate for more speed, desperate to escape. Blocks shattered around him, slapping him with rocky debris.


    His whole body screamed in anticipation, sensing the impending implosion. It was time to escape.


    The shattered lip of wall, opening to the welcoming darkness of the city, beckoned. Gavriel jumped the remaining five feet, hearing the ceiling crash behind him. The crushing blocks sent a shockwave that threw off his dive.


    Tumbling wildly, he slammed into a protruding pole and landed heavily into a tall stack of pallets. Wood and splinters tore through him as his body smashed through, cracking the hardened wood down several layers.


    His head spun, eyes swam in red. His brain was reeling from the physical and mental assault. Gavriel lay there, gasping for air, until an earth-shattering roar recharged him. He climbed out of the broken mess, landing on the pavement.


    He counted his blessings; gingerly testing, he found minor sprains and injuries, at least nothing that would keep him from a fast limp.


    The monstrosity was immense, terrifyingly huge when seen in scale with the buildings. The thing hadn’t noticed his escape, it seemed; its total rage and destructive force was focused wholly on the building.


    He lumbered away, aiming to cover as much distance as quickly as he could. The cacophony of the battle echoed deep into the city. Even after twenty minutes and several turns, the wild screaming still clung to him. The memory of the sound would cling long after, haunting him on sleepless nights.


    Almost an hour later, he found his way to a transit stop. The palely light, shoddy booth seemed like a haven to him. He collapsed in a seat, letting all the pain and emotions burst to the top, overwhelming him. Deep exhaustion settled on Gavriel as he waited. The next bus would arrive around dawn, enough time to rest and think.


    He was alive. He had escaped death, escaped their prison. With the help of a mysterious stranger. Everything jumbled together, every unreality, squeezing his brain with incomprehension. His head ached, and he tried to let go of all thought, settling into comfortable nothingness. He would figure it out later.


    One thought kept resurfacing. The image of his son. He needed to know the truth. If Nathaniel was here, he had to find him.


    Sleep enticed him, as he grasped at consciousness through the night. The soft grey of dawn finally greeted him, the bus rolling to a stop in front of him. Blinking against the darkness within the bus, he found a seat. Sombre street lights slipped by, like dreams of fireflies fading into oblivion.