Chapter 149: Their real strength
Chapter 149: Their real strength
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
As Blake stared into the room, the sound continued echoing through the hallway with an almost impossibly slow and constant rhythm.
He straighted up before he even realized he had done so.
And then, again, his entire body locked up. He simply stood there, unable to even raise a hand to cover his mouth.
’What is that?’
There was something enormous hanging suspended inside the room.
At least, he assumed it was hanging. It was difficult to tell where its body began and ended, or it was even a full body.
Thick restraints disappeared beneath overlapping layers of flesh, while a massive automated cutting arm repeatedly descended over the same section of its body.
THUNK.
The blade sliced cleanly through it.
A thick liquid immediately spilled from the wound, flowing into transparent channels beneath the platform.
It wasn’t red.
The fluid possessed a deep blue-violet color, but it wasn’t simply blue blood. Tiny silver specks drifted through it, catching the light like dust floating beneath sunlight.
It flowed more slowly than human blood, almost syrup-like, stretching into long strands before finally dripping into the collection containers below.
Not a single drop escaped, every bit of it was carefully collected.
Blake’s breathing became shallow and, without thinking, he raised a hand and knocked on the door.
A moment later, it slid open.
’Crap...’
The man standing inside looked up.
"Trevor. There you are."
With no choice left by his own thoughtless action, he stepped aside.
"We were wondering if you’d show up."
Blake silently nodded before stepping inside.
His smile remained perfectly steady, only his eyes betrayed him by slightly trembling.
The room itself wasn’t particularly large. A long table occupied most of the space, positioned beside the harvesting machine as though it belonged there.
Nobody paid attention to the half body in the slightest. The cutting simply continued.
THUNK.
THUNK.
The sound blended into the background while the people seated around the table casually talked amongst themselves.
’How can so much of that... blood..’
Blake almost gagged, but managed to swallow his saliva down, coughing.
Trying to distract himself, he looked down, then, noticing several glasses sitting before them.
Each one contained that same shimmering blue-violet liquid.
Some were half-empty, others had already been drained, only one chair remained available...
Blake quietly sat down.
Almost immediately, a man with strangely yellow irises glanced toward him.
His eyes looked oddly flat, the yellow spreading almost to the whites without much distinction between the two.
"Where’s Miranda?"
Blake lowered his voice, doing his best to imitate Trevor’s.
"She stayed on the second floor. She’s overseeing a few things down there."
"Hm."
Before anyone else could respond, another man scoffed.
He was noticeably shorter than everyone around him. His left eye immediately drew Blake’s attention. The pupil twisted inward in a tight spiral instead of forming a circle, seeming to shift ever so slightly whenever the light reflected off it.
"She always finds busywork for herself," he muttered, leaning back in his chair. "Honestly, I don’t know why she’s wasting her time downstairs when she could be up here."
A few people chuckled quietly, nobody really defending her.
Instead, someone slid a full glass across the table, stopping it directly in front of Blake.
He looked down.
The liquid gently rippled inside the glass.
Somehow, it looked warm.
He swallowed before forcing himself to speak.
"We had a new recruit come through today. He was asking surprisingly naive questions. It’s been a while since I’ve seen anyone like that."
The man with the spiral pupil laughed softly.
"They’re all like that at first."
He lazily rotated his own glass.
"They ask why we do things, they ask what everything is, and they also ask whether it’s necessary. Give them enough time and they’ll be asking for more."
Blake laughed with him.
"I suppose that’s not far from the truth."
Across the table, another man smiled.
His eyes were unusually large.
Even when he blinked, they never seemed to close completely.
"I remember my first week," he said. "I genuinely thought this place was incredible."
"You probably still do," someone replied.
The large-eyed man laughed.
"I can’t really deny that."
Blake shrugged.
"Well, I don’t think it’s that bad either. Personally, I’ve enjoyed working here."
Several heads nodded.
The yellow-eyed man sighed almost contentedly.
"We’re fortunate."
His fingers gently tapped the side of his glass.
"People complain too much."
"They always have."
He looked toward the harvesting machine for only a second before turning back.
"If you ask me, this is a blessing."
"A strange one, don’t forget," the spiral-eyed man added.
"A blessing is a blessing."
The yellow-eyed man smiled.
"Exactly."
He slowly raised his drink.
"Otherwise we wouldn’t be sitting here together...drinking this amazing garbage."
A few quiet laughs spread around the table.
Blake laughed too, as his fists tightened.
The conversation drifted elsewhere.
Someone complained about maintenance delays.
Another wondered whether another shipment would arrive before the weekend.
One man joked about Miranda terrifying another recruit into quitting.
The others chuckled.
So much so that Blake started to feel his eyes water.
It sounded... far too normal.
All while the machine behind them continued cutting into the restrained creature.
THUNK.
THUNK.
Nobody reacted.
Blake looked down again.
His own glass remained untouched. He hadn’t realized how tightly he was gripping it.
Several more seconds passed.
Then... the room fell silent, it wasn’t gradual, really. It happened in an instant.
Blake slowly lifted his head.
Every single person was looking at him.
The yellow-eyed man tilted his head.
"Trevor."
His voice remained perfectly calm.
"You haven’t had a drink."
The spiral-eyed man smiled.
"Something wrong with today’s batch?"
Another leaned forward.
"You’ve been holding that glass for a while."
"You should drink it."
The large-eyed man chuckled.
"You are one of the oldest here, so maybe you’re getting picky with age. It gets better after the first sip, I promise as an old man myself."
Blake forced himself to laugh.
"You’re right."
He lifted the glass.
"I got distracted. I was just about to."
The rim slowly approached his lips. But just before it touched them, Blake silently mouthed,
I’ll Sneak For My Lover.
The glass froze less than a centimeter from his mouth, the liquid inside no longer moving.
Everyone was still staring at him, still smiling.
Blake slowly stood, his chair scraping backward, and nobody reacted.
Keeping the glass in one hand, he calmly walked toward the door and stepped into the hallway.
The moment the door closed behind him...
Voices resumed full of laughter, as the steady rhythm of the cutting machine continued.
It was as though he had never entered the room at all.
Blake didn’t wait, he immediately broke into a run, checking all the other rooms in front of him.
And, unfortunately, more than three were occupied.
But then, he managed to find an empty one, so he slipped inside before quietly closing the door behind him.
The moment he was certain nobody could see him, he whispered,
"Deactivate. And Spoon," Blake muttered quietly. "Put this into storage."
The glass disappeared instantly.
He let out a slow breath. He remembers the way fairly well, he was now close to the fourth floor now.
Whether Trevor actually possessed enough clearance to reach it was another matter entirely.
Still, nobody on this level wore a different uniform.
Maybe Trevor had access, maybe he didn’t, there was only one way to find out...
Blake pressed a hand against his racing heart before quickly searching the room.
Shelves filled with mechanical components lined the walls.
Power units.
Metal casings.
Unfinished assemblies.
Beside them rested several preserved alien body parts.
’Ah... what even is that?’
Unlike the arms downstairs, these specimens resembled nothing he could identify. He couldn’t tell whether they were organs, muscles, or something entirely different.
He simply stored one specimen away.
Then the nearby mechanical components followed.
Everything disappeared into his storage.
Seeing that there was nothing else to take, Blake quietly stepped back into the hallway, his pace quickening by the second.
Every passing minute made his situation worse.
It was only a matter of time before someone discovered the real Trevor unconscious inside that bathroom.
Once they did... everything would unravel.
Blake hurried through another corridor before finally spotting it.
A staircase leading upward, to the fourth floor.
His throat tightened.
’Here I am...’
Each step seemed louder than the last and, when he finally reached the top, he stopped dead in front of the security door.
’...You’ve got to be kidding me.’
There was no badge scanner.
No keyhole.
Instead, a digital handprint scanner glowed softly beside the entrance.
Blake stared at it.
Three possibilities immediately came to mind.
Either Trevor wasn’t authorized to enter, in which case the scanner would reject him and probably trigger an alarm.
Or Trevor was authorized, but the Blank Mask didn’t perfectly reproduce fingerprints down to every microscopic ridge, meaning the scanner would reject him anyway.
Or Trevor had access, the Blank Mask copied every detail perfectly, and the door would simply open.
Blake swallowed.
’Screw it, I don’t really have an option here anyway.’
Slowly, he raised his hand, pressing it against the scanner.
Holding his breath, he waited.