White Fog.
Latex gloves peel away and drop into the stainless steel sink. The tap water rinses streams of crimson blood down the drain. Dr. Omura grabs a wire brush and begins to scrape his hands clean. In the past he had never been squeamish about blood, but recently he'd begun to feel that the blood from these autopsies was unnaturally unclean. It was irrational, but all compulsions are irrational.
Four Hei-Shi bodies lay on tables in the room, their chest cavities opened for inspection. The death toll had been phenomenal lately. So much so that most Hei-Shi were nothing of the sort - just your average Biomade athletes crammed into cobalt body armor and given a bare minimum of training. It was embarrassing really, but even Goshi couldn't conjure more soldiers out of thin air.
The deaths were not all combat related. Many were coming back with strange growths like the ones Hurricane had displayed. Others simply had their eyes boil out of their sockets and become mindless killing machines. All of them, even ones who were dissected like the ones on his table, seemed to end up that way eventually - death being no obstacle to the eyeless monstrosities Silex Niveus seemed to create. The solution, for now, was to disLocate the dead and the walking dead to coordinates relayed from Katashi Blade. The coordinates changed daily and no one knew where Blade was getting the information, but they were somewhere in orbit around Karia...
White Fog.
Yes, in orbit. Dr. Omura couldn't believe it himself, but apparently the Executor had gained access to or had knowledge of a spaceship. It went against everything the Cheldrun had sworn as a people since the end of the Flight. There was to be no more space travel. No more tinkering in the pandora's box that once created an empire, but also resulted in that empire's destruction. The only safety from the Enemy was cowering here on this distant planet, landbound and quiet enough not to draw attention...
Dr. Omura scrubbed until the flesh of his hands was inflamed and sore. The astringent soap burned, but it was better than leaving any speck of corrupted blood on his skin.
Of course, it was completely foolish to pretend that the Enemy was just a vague threat from the past any longer. He frequently tried, but he could not deny the evidence of his eyes. The Hei-Shi were transforming into demon-spawn. There was no other word for it. And the demons? They had appeared at least twice, already. Once right here in Geneva Prime about nine months ago. It had exploded killing millions of people. The second time was in Omexon just over two months hence - a vast figure that melted structures and incinerated crowds.
No one was trying to hide this fact. Goshi had been using it to their advantage, actually. Daily bulletins announced the threat of the Enemy and the absolute need for compliance. For most Cheldrun the fear of the Enemy was so instinctual, so overwhelming, that even ancient opponents of Geneva Prime had willingly offered Goshi all their military support to protect Karia.
Nothing made Dr. Omura more ill than knowing that in a small way he was contributing to the eventual annihilation of his species. Every new disLocator installed was another demon-spawn unleashed. Goshi was not protecting the Cheldrun. On the contrary, Goshi was laying the continent bare for an invasion of horrific proportions.
Thinking these thoughts were bound to shorten his lifespan, but Dr. Omura was prepared to bet large sums of money that dying at the hands of an assassin would be infinitely preferable to anything the Enemy would do to him. Indeed, he no longer made any pretenses in front of anyone but Katashi Blade, that he had any confidence in the White Rock Project. In fact, Blade himself could not be under the illusion that his director of Research and Development was a loyal puppy... what could this game be about?
Drying his hands, Dr. Omura brushed his last few hairs across his bald head. He walked across the room to an acrylic panel pulsating with psychic energy and entered in today's coordinates. The Hei-Shi bodies disappeared in a whirl of smoke, gone to some distant spot beyond the atmosphere.
Now why did I do that? I had no intention of sending them away this time. I was going to... White fog.
What was I thinking?
Oh yes, how on earth does Blade keep getting me to do his foul work for him? I want no part of...
...
...
...
White fog.
The door opened and a young lab technician came inside, "Dr. Omura the next batch of autopsies is about to arrive. The Executor sent word that he wants you to inspect this group personally again, because the data you glean is of such excellent quality."
Huh? Had he agreed to do more autopsies? ... "Oh, yes of course. Send them in."
Ruins
Cities
