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Zeno laid in his own bed staring up at the black mesh fabric of the canopy in his darkened bedroom as sleep eluded him. After his brazen rescue of Canine the day before, Zeno had spent the night with Chris and his squad. Due to the limited sleeping space, he and the soldier had to huddle up on one cot together. Chris had no issue with this as he pulled Zeno firmly against his chest with a spare blanket drawn up around them both. Zeno wasn't really sure how he felt about the whole situation at first, but then Chris’ pheromones started to permeate the air around them as the suppressors wore off. Any thoughts or arguments he had to the contrary had fallen silent as he buried his face into the crook of the soldier's neck and breathed in his scent like he could drown himself in it all.
There was something about Chris that made Zeno feel so relaxed and at ease. It was more than just the pheromones at play, and Zeno couldn't put his finger on why that was. He felt safer? That sounded closer to a reasonable answer but still not quite it. Even with that scent filling every breath he took, Zeno was still able to pull himself away if he felt compelled to, but Chris rarely gave him a reason to be. Perhaps it was the older man's affectionate demeanor that disarmed Zeno so well and made him linger longer than he should. He made Zeno second guess and doubt himself. The thought had been on the younger man's mind for the better part of the day after he spent a long humid morning trudging his way back to the ARK facility.
The security team was alarmed when Zeno approached the exterior entrance with his clothes tattered and soaked through with dried blood. His mouth was set in a hard scowl as he reported the Garmrs’ deaths after the weather conditions riled them up into an unpredictable frenzy. The warning to the other units warded them away from the territory in question, which would hopefully give Chris’ team enough time to move to a more secure location before recon units begin their regular sweeps.
It didn't ease his thoughts and provide him the peace he desperately sought tonight. They weren't racing but instead felt heavy on his mind. He didn't like the sinking sense of dread that replaced the comfort he had felt just that morning when he rose to the blushing sun wrapped up in Chris’ strong protective embrace. His own bed felt empty in comparison. Vast in its size and the loneliness it courted. No luxury could quell these feelings or replace their bitter company.
Chris’ scent, once a comfort was already a fading memory that he couldn't recall. A part of him abhorred the fact he had to decon all of his clothes upon his return to the facility. Most of which were immediately destroyed due to biological contamination. They couldn't be salvaged with that much blood on them. He was annoyed but it was expected. Replacements were already being ordered and had become a weekly occurrence for him as he filed the respective forms earlier that afternoon. He hadn't even brought the canteen back with him out of a paranoia that someone would find it and question it's origins. He had nothing to keep him company. Nothing but a fading memory and the desire to be wrapped up in those arms again.
Sleep denied him for so long that he was beginning to question if it would ever give him peace before morning. He tried everything to quiet his mind; breathing techniques, meditative counting, even silently going through the long list of emergency protocols established for the facility that he had to memorize as soon as he arrived here, of which there were over twenty-six with fifteen additional sub categories, and three categorical exceptions. Not even that mindnumbing exercise could dull his thoughts long enough to submit to sleep. So Zeno tried a new method.
It was just him, his hand and a very quiet room that he was trying to keep that way. He slipped his fingers beneath the hem of his trousers to grip himself firmly as he imagined his steady palm was Chris’. Every stroke was measured as he worked himself over. He took his time just as the soldier had before, and made his body really work for its reward in an effort to make his body more tired in the long run. Zeno had Chris to thank for that as he edged himself up then loosened his grip for a few seconds as his palm went still. His mounting arousal would recede, then Zeno would start right back up with that teasing steady rhythm. He did this several times over and over again until the muscles in his thighs ached from repeatedly tensing and clenching for so long. He let himself have that long awaited relief as his seed spilled over his own palm. Zeno managed to minimize the mess quite a bit before dragging his boneless body from the bed to clean up.
By the time he returned, he was feeling a lot more relaxed and drowsy than he had all evening. Content, as he sighed and adjusted the blankets until they were snug just below his chin, Zeno tilted his head until the right side of his face was buried comfortably into the pillow. His eyelids drooped. As if weights sluggishly taunted his dwindling willpower, he gladly welcomed the relief that swiftly followed him into the night.
“One of the security teams hasn't returned from their recon mission.” The report nearly went over Zeno's head as he zoned out during the morning meeting. All of the most important figures in the ARK facility were present to report any changes in their respective departments. He was only really here to observe and copy down the minutes at the end of each meeting to accompany his overall progress report to his superiors. He never really had to pay much attention unless they were discussing expenses and funding changes.
Typically that did not involve absentee guards taking their sweet ass time on perimeter patrols, but today had extenuating circumstances. The meeting room had grown uncharacteristically tense. Zeno knew many of their thoughts had probably shifted back towards his own formal report yesterday morning about the bioweapons being unusually aggressive after the storm. The scientists were looking into the potential reasons for why weather would escalate their aggression. That didn't bode well when they were relying on funds from the weapons they sold to warring countries with morally bankrupt government regimes. They needed a quality product that was predictable and battle tested.
Zeno suspected their test trials didn't involve snack sized soldiers dangling from a rope like a piece of bait.
Another department lead suggested waiting a few more hours before sending out any more teams. The last thing they needed was to send a rescue and recovery squad only to lose them too. It was decided they would fortify the immediate vicinity of the facility’s entrances for the next few days in the hopes that everything would eventually calm down. Their morning discussion shifted away from the tense topic of the missing unit towards the results for the newest batch of lickers. Zeno began to zone them out again as the lead on that department enthusiastically regaled the rest of the room with the success of stable, controlled licker mutations.
He didn't understand how these men could get so excited over something like that. They tortured and twisted the human body into monstrous changes that formed disfigured nightmares and called it perfection. All his superiors cared for were results with a price tag attached. Yet Zeno only saw the reality of what their actions had done. Those things used to be people. Even if their origins were clones specifically, an unlimited easily obtainable source of willing flesh bred just to be sculpted by their hands, they were still people. These men talked excitedly as if those lives meant nothing. They were merely an expense on a spreadsheet that needed to be replaced to keep their stock up. Nothing more. Nothing useful.
The clones that had been used were bred to be empty husks devoid of personality or feelings of free will. They knew nothing but the cultivation tanks they were rapidly grown in and lacked any sort of education or ability to form speech. They were infants grown to scale then commanded to obey. Their lives were short and miserable.
Once again he was reminded just how lucky he was. For some reason his life mattered when all the rest didn't. He had meaning. Purpose. Potential. It was the mark of privilege from living in someone else's shadow as if the whole world was attempting to rewrite a mistake.
He dared to wonder, however brief and fleeting the thought had initially been, if Chris would still care if he knew what Zeno was? More than just a bioweapon. Would Chris be repulsed? Would he feel lied to? Deceived?
Zeno felt his stomach tangle up into nauseating knots. He sat the pen aside that he had been using to take notes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he willed away the uncomfortable feeling. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and released it slowly through his nose. The tightness in his chest abated some to be bearable. It was good enough for him. When he opened his eyes once more, he realized the entire room had fallen silent. The lively frustrating chatter had ceased. The heads of the other departments looked nervously at their notes as they avoided eye contact with each other.
The silence was an unexpected but welcome opening for him to assert with an air of mock frustration. He pressed the words between his lips like weighing a threat on every syllable. His voice, though quiet, sounded far louder and much more menacing in the stilted silence of the room. “If that's all the important matters to discuss today, can we proceed to dismissal?”
“Yes sir.” It came, more or less in unison, from the twenty-two gathered individuals before him. They assured him that their completed reports would be forwarded to his email before noon with the new corrections and adjustments established by the meeting added to them, then hastily vacated the room back to their designated labs to brief their teams. Zeno took his time to collect his materials and returned to his private quarters to decompress after the exhausting demands of the morning.
It took the better part of the whole day for him to prepare the formalized final report for this month’s deadline then sent it on ahead to his superiors to review. With that out of the way, he was able to move on to much more pleasant tasks. Which involved ignoring the vast majority of the facility under the guise of being incredibly busy as he hunkered down in his armchair to read. He had read the book several times already but it was one of the few in his scarce collection that he enjoyed revisiting the most just to pass the time.
He read until he felt tired enough to sleep and threw himself straight into bed with very little fanfare. This method seemed to work a little better in combatting the loneliness that had harassed him so doggedly the night before. He didn't give his mind enough time to really think about it as he buried his face into the pillows.
Three days had gone by since the security team was reported missing. It was late afternoon when the new report submitted by the Commander had reached Zeno's attention. The entire team had been killed. The cause was unknown. Their bodies were found a quarter of a mile away from their last known recon location washed up on the edge of the flood zone in a ravine. The nearby bioweapons had been steadily scavenging the bloated carcasses leaving very little evidence to discern what the nature of their deaths were.
Zeno had inspected the map of the area before. There was no entryway into the pits from where the team was meant to be investigating, so either they were pursued -or lured- into that area, or the whole unit had been killed somewhere else and their corpses disposed of into the flood line below. It wasn't hard for Zeno to suspect a specific culprit when he realized just how close the recon unit was to the school the Hound Wolf Squad was using as a base. He didn't voice any of his suspicions as he accepted the questionable report as it was. A part of him hoped that it would deter the rest of the teams away from that area after it's been designated a high risk zone twice now.
Instead, as the report had been issued to his superiors in regards to the situation complicating the recovery and repair efforts after the storm, it was decided that Zeno would accompany any further expeditions. Two of their main ground deployment routes had been disrupted by obstacles caused by the storm. This prevented the transport of bioweapon specimens through secure channels from the remnants of other facilities or bringing new evolved specimens back that were discovered at the edges of the crater by their other R&D teams. Due to the detriment this posed on their operations, Zeno was to accompany future forays into the city to ensure the success of the clean up teams.
Typically this just meant him acting as a silent guard dog as his natural pheromones repelled and ward off nearby bioweapons. It was simple enough work if not also mind numbing in its own way. He would spend the duration of the next few days walking the perimeter of the work crew to build a temporary ‘territory’ to keep the bioweapons at a distance. For the first day, it wasn't so bad. His primary complaint was mostly the heat as the late Summer sun beat down relentlessly upon their backs. It helped dry the remaining moisture from the storm as the ground stabilized allowing them to bring in other equipment to assist with expediting the workload. A small crane and backhoe worked in tandem to move debris out of the path as large chunks of concrete and rebar was extracted and relocated.
The end of the day was met with a long shower, and for once Zeno didn't even mind that it was cold as he washed the accumulated dust from his platinum hair where it had grown dingy and dark. He scrubbed every inch of his body obsessively to get every last speck of filth and grime off and then some, until he was satisfied. The second day was worse. The heat was impossible to avoid as they cleared all of the debris that had once offered a modicum of shade to their teams. Zeno shifted restlessly as the direct sun hit the left side of his face. The dark markings of his condition had made the skin particularly sensitive to temperature shifts, and the harsh dry air wasn't helping matters. It itched and burned as the skin grew enflamed over the span of several hours. Zeno had applied a topical lotion to it before leaving his quarters like he did every morning, but today it didn't seem to be helping prevent his growing discomfort.
Around noon, he had called the teams off for a break. They rotated crews to refresh their manpower, as they returned to the facility to get some food. Zeno's appetite was absent. The whole left side of his face ached with that steady pulsing heat that spread up towards his temple and chafed down by the collar of his jacket. Even the gentle pressure of the frame of his sunglasses was too much for him to bear as he hastily removed them in the privacy of his bathroom. The cold water burned as he splashed his face to wash away the dust and sweat that had accumulated throughout the morning.
With careful breaths measured through gritted teeth, he gripped the sink tightly as the pain radiated throughout his jaw. All he could do was endure it. He had an hour to nurse the area with another gentle application of a different lotion. This one had a much stronger anti-inflammatory compound in it that numbed the itch. It didn't alleviate the ache but something was far better than nothing right now. Zeno changed his clothes and opted for a shirt with a looser collar. It had a deeper V down the front than he was normally comfortable with wearing outside of sleeping or lounging in, but he didn't exactly have many more options fitting for the situation. A light grey jacket with a high stiff collar around the neck would help shelter the agitated markings with a little more shade. It was warmer than he would have preferred but he was honestly picking devils at this point.
Once the break period was over, the fresh crew was ready to head out to hopefully finish the work.
“Just a few more hours.” He assured himself. A few more hours and he could spend the next day locked in his quarters sleeping it off. The trek to the worksite was well worn by their boots. Dust kicked up where the mud had cracked and dried over the last few days giving the air a dry uncomfortable quality. The main security team led at the front with their guns at the ready while Zeno followed from the rear. The work crew spread out to assume their designated points of focus while Zeno did his rounds on the perimeter. The security teams paired off with clusters of workers with two men to a group scattered around the sizable zone. He made a point to check in on each group as he passed, and lingered in the area a little to ensure his scent trail was established before moving on to the next location.
As he was completing his second loop, Zeno caught an unusual sound. The decrepit foundations of the buildings they were settled between appeared to be an office on one side and a restaurant on the other with the narrow ‘road’ which used to be an old service alley when the city was functional cutting between it. The supporting wall of the restaurant had collapsed which required the designated clean up in this space as they restructured the road. Further along they were clearing debris as it was moved from one point to the next. There was plenty of debris and cluttered heaps for Zeno to climb up on to get a better view of the whole work site which were piled in a neighboring building. He wasn't really sure what that building was. The entire roof had collapsed and all that remained was three of the four walls and a rusted fire escape on the exterior where concrete and old steel beams made a workable ramp up to it for him to perch on. He took point to survey the area but found nothing of note that was out of place. Yet he could hear a distinctive sound through the noise of machines and shovels.
A whistling sound.
It was sharp and quick. It cut through the air and made a shiver curl taut against his spine. There were no bioweapons that he knew that could make that sound. As he searched for a sign or source, Zeno caught an equally as distinctive, and far more familiar, scent. A strong rush of iron came over his senses. Alarmed, he turned back towards the work crews. The clean up appeared undisturbed as machines continued to run and the team went about their efforts.
‘Where is it coming from?’ It had to be nearby. He could smell it. Zeno dismounted from the perch to check the other team further up wind. They were hauling the excavated debris away to clear the path. As Zeno bypassed them, the scent grew more intense. His gaze searched the third cluster of workers who were moving heavy beams to reinforce the surrounding buildings. Four workers were together, another three were checking their equipment to ensure the ground was stable before sinking the beams in. ‘Where are the guards?’
He could see the engineers assigned to zone three but the two guards that were meant to be with them were gone. Zeno drew his gun as the smell of blood grew stronger. An abrupt turn on his heel brought him face to face with an operative in tactical gear that was attempting to sneak up on him with a combat knife. He aimed his gun at the intruder's head as his finger leveled on the trigger. His golden eyes raked over the man's body as his other hand shot out and gripped the wrist wielding the knife preventing the incoming strike. There was no distinguishing markings that told him who the operative belonged to. Dressed head to toe in black tactical gear, he resembled the BSAA’s covert units. A little closer to the Hound Wolf Squad than their usual six man cell design. He tightened his grip on the man's wrist until the pain forced him to drop his blade to the ground.
The man gritted his teeth and cursed through the protective facemask. His shrouded grimace drew taut beneath the urban toned fabric. The resemblance to Chris’ men was unsettling as a sinking feeling swarmed him. Was this one of Chris’ allies, or another faceless grunt serving shadier organizations? He cocked his head to inspect the man over as the gnawing frustration of his predicament grew. Would killing them cross a line? He supposed he could always take this one alive to interrogate for information. He couldn't guarantee their safety afterwards but it could offer them a few more hours of life regardless.
The whistling sound returned, sounding sharper than before mere microseconds before the brunt of impact his Zeno’s right arm, immediately followed by a second shot that pierced his shoulder. He felt the burn of pain like an after thought. His grip on Redemption wavered as the barrel dipped away. There was weakness as the muscles in his limb stitched themselves back together. Zeno ground his teeth, lips drawn back into a sneer of contempt as he watched the operative drop something between them. The man was already rising to his feet to flee as another bullet whizzed by Zeno's head. The dark canister that hit the ground by his boots vaguely registered as a grenade of some kind. Using his left hand, Zeno snatched the back of the operative’s tactical vest as he dragged the man back and slammed his body down on top of the cylinder. He planted his foot firmly in the center of the man's chest and stepped his weight into the operative’s ribcage as he screamed in agony.
Correcting the grip on Redemption, Zeno found the armed assailant that dared to shoot him. With the deafening bang of Redemption, the tactical helmet he had been wearing before shattered in an explosion of brain matter across the hot concrete slab he was sniping from. The grenade blast rocked the earth as a dust cloud erupted with the misting of blood all around them. The writhing body of the soldier fell still beneath his boot as Zeno stepped back to survey the worksite.
The rest of the security team was on high alert as they gunned down two more operatives that had begun to encroach on zone one to sabotage the crane with explosives. The air around him was tense. The choking gagging sounds of a man struggling to breathe drew Zeno's attention to the group of engineers he had been observing before the ambush. One was on the ground in a puddle of blood directly behind where Zeno stood. Blood splattered the support beams where the bullets that pierced cleanly through his body had penetrated the unlucky engineer. Two of his companions were trying to stop the bleeding as one scrambled to press his construction vest over the injury but it was already too late. The man had fallen still as the life left his body.
“He's gone.” One of the engineers had declared, who's name Zeno couldn't recall from the roster at the moment. “Kurt, he's gone. He's not breathing anymore.”
Zeno holstered Redemption as he stood over the bodies of the dead. The sting of frustration already biting at his nerves. Everything had gone so wrong so fast. ‘If only I hadn't hesitated-’
The thought was a sharp snap of displeasure in his mind. Accusatory and angry. The security team radioed in that they found three of their dead and missing guards. Four casualties. Four known assailants.
“Jason?” One of the other engineers had called through the hoarseness of his voice. “Leo, look!”
Zeno's gaze tracked back towards the three men. The one holding his vest to the wound looked hopeful as the prone body began to twitch and move. A pungent odor met the air, bitter and sharp, like ammonia. It reminded him of the Garmr and their territorial markers. There was a black tinge to the dark veins on Jason's arms as his fingers moved, groping at the blood stained fabric of the vest.
“Kurt, get away-” Before Leo would warn his companion, Jason had lunged towards Kurt to sink his teeth into his arm. The men scattered but Kurt wasn't so lucky as Jason stripped flesh from the engineer's upper forearm. Zeno drew Redemption to fire the shot but feared he would hit the men in the path. The frantic screams of the workers drew the remaining members of the security team as a bullet flew through the air to hit Jason in the head. A second bullet struck Kurt execution style. Leo was pressed against the wall, hands held up placating to the guards as he stammered out.
“I-I’m not bit! I'm not bit!” The head guard that was assisting with the expedition approached. A steady stride in black body armor as he inspected the engineer. He stood an arm's reach away as the terrified man's expression was reflected back in the guard's visor. “I'm not bit. Please! I'm not infected!”
“We don't know that for sure.” The guard drew his side arm and fired before the engineer was even aware. A bullet pierced his brain as the body slowly slumped against the wall and sank down to the ground to join the rest of his dead companions. “We can't take anymore risks. All blood is to be considered hostile.”
The declaration was absolute. Not even Zeno could argue against it. Three men were dead. The warning signs of the blood infection coursed through Jason’s body. Accelerated symptoms of the RCS.
An infection from Zeno’s own blood. His negligence cost them six good people today. His hesitation -twice now- could have led to more. He was growing soft, second guessing his choices and doubting every decision he made. He couldn't trust himself to remain impartial.
‘What is wrong with me?’ They were people. People that the Connections saw as expendable and replaceable. Nothing was out of reach with enough time and money. The work still needed to be done at the end of the day, regardless of who was left to do it.
Once again Zeno was painfully reminded that he was the lucky one. He watched the bodies of the dead be left right where they were. The rest of the work crew was being rounded up to head back to ARK. The expedition was suspended until a hazmat cleanup team could dispose of the corpses and sanitize everything, including the equipment and tools.
Another day to go.
Zeno doubted he would ever see true rest before this assignment was through.