11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Vornas

I lead Chloe into the underground facility, my nostrils flaring at the scent of metal and ozone. The sterile corridors stretch before us like the arteries of some monstrous beast, bathed in a sickly green glow that does little to illuminate the oppressive darkness. My injury pulses with each step, but I refuse to let the pain show in my gait.

Chloe's soft warmth presses against my flank as we slink through the narrow passageways. My ears swivel, catching the faintest whisper of sound—the hum of distant machinery, the creak of settling metal.

We round a corner, and the scent hits me like a physical blow—the ozone grows stronger, mixed with the unmistakable odor of scorched metal.

"The charging station," Chloe guesses in a whisper, and my muscles coil beneath my fur as we approach.

And there it is—the robot, a hulking monstrosity of dented metal and sparking wires. Its glowing sensors flash as it reaches for the power source, movements jerky but determined. For a heartbeat, I'm frozen.

Then instinct takes over. With a snarl that reverberates throughout the narrow corridor, I launch myself at the mechanical beast. Pain lances through my chest, but I push it aside, focusing on the satisfying screech of my claws against the robot's body. We grapple in a deadly fight, the robot's strength waning but still formidable.

Chloe's footsteps echo behind me, and fear—not for myself, but for her—surges through my veins. I can't let her get hurt. I won't. With renewed vigor, I tear into the robot, determined to end this threat once and for all.

"Chloe, stay back!" I growl, struggling to keep the robot from its goal.

But she doesn't listen. From the corner of my eye, I see her dart forward, a long rod in her hands. With surprising strength, she jams it into the charging mechanism. Sparks fly, and the robot lets out an inhuman screech as it reels around to see the destruction of its fuel source.

Its movements become frantic, desperate. I use the distraction to my advantage, pinning it down with all my might. The robot's limbs flail wildly, reaching for the damaged charger, but it's no use. Slowly, agonizingly, its movements grow weaker until finally, it collapses.

I step back, panting heavily. The pain in my side is almost unbearable now, but I force myself to stand tall. "Well done," I say to Chloe, impressed by her quick thinking, before letting out a wheezing cough.

I then notice Chloe's horrified expression and follow her gaze to the growing crimson stain matting my fur. The sight of so much blood seeping through my coat is not one I'm used to.

"Vornas, you're losing too much blood," Chloe says, her voice trembling. "We need to stop and treat this now."

I open my mouth to reassure her, but then a wave of dizziness washes over me as my legs wobble.

In an instant, Chloe's arm wraps around my waist, steadying me. "This isn't up for debate," she insists. "We're finding a safe spot to patch you up before you collapse."

I lean into Chloe's support, my breath ragged and shallow. A growl of frustration rumbles in my chest, but I force myself to nod. This isn't how it should be. I'm supposed to be her protector, her guardian in this hostile place. Instead, she's practically carrying me through this sterile maze. The role reversal grates against every instinct I possess.

Yet, as we stumble through the strange corridor in search of refuge, I can't deny the warmth that spreads through me at her touch. Her determination, her unwavering resolve to keep me safe—it stirs something deep within. I hate my weakness, but I'm grateful for her strength. It's comforting, in a way I never expected.

I really couldn't ask for a better mate, could I?

We continue stumbling through the sterile corridors, my pride taking as much of a beating as my body. Finally, Chloe nods toward an open doorway. "There. That looks like some kind of medical bay."

I grunt in acknowledgment, too focused on staying conscious to form words. We make our way inside, and Chloe helps me onto a sleek metal table. The cool surface against my fur is anything but pleasant.

"Hold still," she commands, rummaging through drawers and cabinets. "I need to clean this wound."

I watch her work, her movements efficient and purposeful. She returns with an array of alien medical supplies, her brow furrowed in concentration. As she begins to clean my injury, I marvel at the gentleness of her touch. It's so at odds with the brutality I've known all my life.

"This might sting a bit," Chloe warns, applying some sort of liquid.

It stings, but I hardly notice now. I drift in and out of consciousness as Chloe works. Through the haze, I'm vaguely aware of her deft fingers applying adhesive strips, methodically closing the gash. The tugging sensation on my fur is oddly comforting, anchoring me to reality as I fight to stay awake.

As Chloe finishes wrapping the bandage around my torso, I let out a low, appreciative rumble. Her touch lingers for a moment, and I find myself leaning into it, savoring the warmth of her hands against my fur.

"There," she says, her voice soft. "That should hold for now."

I attempt to sit up, but a wave of dizziness forces me back down.

"Easy there, big guy," she murmurs. "You've lost a lot of blood."

She rummages through the medical supplies, producing two wrapped bars. "Here," she says, offering one to me. "These seem to be some kind of alien energy bars. Might help you regain your strength."

I eye the unfamiliar food warily, but the gnawing emptiness in my stomach overrides my caution. I take a tentative bite, and while it's not the most appetizing meal, as I chew, I can almost feel vitality seeping back into my limbs.

Chloe unwraps her own bar, and we eat in companionable silence. With each bite, the fog of pain and exhaustion lifts from my mind, and I only need a few more minutes of rest before I feel as good as new.

As I finish the last of the bar, my gaze sweeps the room, taking in our surroundings with newfound clarity. That's when I spot it—a nearby screen flickering with alien symbols. An idea begins to form in my mind, a potential key to our escape from this sterile labyrinth, and perhaps even from the Loop itself.

"Chloe," I say, my voice rough. "That device over there. Perhaps you could investigate it? You seem to have a better grasp of technology than I do."

She looks up, surprise evident on her face. "But… I mean, it's probably in another language. I'm good with computers, but I'm not that good."

I smile and reach out to tap the device at her temple. "This little wonder doesn't just translate spoken language. It works for written text as well."

Chloe's eyes widen. "Oh! I hadn't even thought of that." She immediately moves to the console, her fingers hovering over the controls. "Let's see what we can find out about this place. This shit better not be password protected, or I swear to God…"

As she begins to work, I force myself into a sitting position, ignoring the protest from my injury. I need to stay alert, to keep watch for any potential threats. But I can't help but steal glances at Chloe as she navigates the alien technology with surprising ease.

"No password!" she reports back to me. "What chumps. Guess they never thought we'd find a way into their stupid secret facility."

I grin as I watch her fingers tap across the alien controls with a grace I'd never possess. If it were up to me, I'd be reduced to jabbing at buttons with a claw and hoping for the best.

I keep my senses sharp, ears pricked for any sign of danger as Chloe works her magic on the alien console. The sterile air of the medical bay sets my fur on edge, but it's the fragments of information Chloe mutters that truly make my tail twitch.

"Project Assimilation? What the hell…" Chloe's voice is low, but my keen hearing picks up every word. "Organic-synthetic fusion? This is some serious sci-fi stuff."

My claws flex involuntarily. The implications of those words send a chill through me. What twisted experiments have been conducted here?

"Hey, Vornas," Chloe calls, her eyes still locked on the screen. "There's something here about cybernetic enhancements. Success rates for different species. Your people are on the list as viable candidates. Humans too."

"We are not toys for their amusement," I snarl, but my anger is tinged with a creeping fear. I somehow liked this place more when I thought it was just some silly, deadly game. What's really going on here?

Chloe's next words snap me out of my dark thoughts. "There's a file here about the Host. His species, the Barbakak, were considered ‘99% viable for successful assimilation.' But there's an addendum… An override by the ‘Administrator.'"

I'm not sure what any of this means, but I keep listening.

She keeps going. "There's… oh. There are references to ‘test subjects' and ‘combat trials.' Something about criteria for an ‘ideal host species.' They're looking for adaptability, physical prowess, resilience, ruthlessness… It seems the Drakari and Aquarians measured high for everything but the last benchmark."

"And the Saberkai?" I growl.

She glances at me, then back at the console. "Still to be determined, but…" She reads further, then says quietly, "Results so far are optimistic."

I feel my claws digging into my palms. Was it my choice to cure only the Saberkai that convinced these machines to consider my race for… whatever it is they're planning?

"Keep digging," I say. "There has to be more."

Chloe nods, pulling up all sorts of text for a good few minutes before she suddenly gasps. "Wait. I think I've found something. It's a communication log between the Host and… someone else. The Administrator."

My ears perk up. "What does it say?"

Chloe's eyes scan the screen, her face growing paler with each passing second. "They're discussing the ‘potential of other species for integration.' The Administrator is telling the Host that if he can bring them a species with 100% compatibility, then his own species will be spared. But…" She pauses, swallowing hard. "He's running out of time."

A cold dread settles in my stomach. "Spared from what?"

"Assimilation," Chloe says, still reading.

"Assimilation, assimilation," I repeat with a sneer. "What does that even mean?"

"I think they want to combine their robotic bodies with an organic race."

My fur bristles as a low growl rumbles in my chest. "So the Host is selling us out to save his own kind? Is that why he is already half robot—because these hunters had originally chosen his race?"

Chloe finally turns away from the screen, a look of dread on her face. "It looks that way. And I'm not sure exactly why, but these robots are running out of time to find a suitable host species."

I stand and pace behind Chloe, my claws clicking against the cold metal floor. "There must be more to this puzzle."

Chloe nods and returns to the console, digging through the text once more until she stumbles upon something else. "Error logs?" she says, more to herself than me.

I move closer. "What does that mean?"

"They're reports, sent to the mainframe any time a process in the robots fails. Whatever their energy source is—it has a half-life that has been slowly decaying for some time, and now it's reaching a critical point of entropy. Because of that, they're looking to merge with a biological species that can reproduce and sustain itself."

A growl rumbles in my chest. "Then what are they hesitating for? They seem to have found many."

"That's the kicker," Chloe says, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I don't think they just want to survive. They want to conquer."

I snarl. "Conquer?"

"They're after species that are physically superior and compatible, sure. But they're really hunting for that killer instinct. The ruthlessness to spread across the stars like a plague."

"Ruthless," I growl, the weight of my earlier choice pressing down on me. "A species willing to crush any others who threaten them."

Chloe's eyes soften for a moment, and she reaches out to touch my arm. "Hey, you didn't know. But now we do, and we just have to figure out their weakness."

I wish I shared her optimism, but I doubt stopping them will be that easy. And as if to prove me right, a shrill alarm suddenly pierces the air. Chloe jumps, and I instinctively pull her close, my body tensing as I scan our surroundings.

"They know we're here," she shouts over the noise. "We need to move!"

"This way," I growl, leading us down a corridor, away from the approaching sound of mechanical footsteps. The rhythmic clank of metal on metal grows louder, spurring us on.

We race through the sterile hallways, rounding a corner and skidding to a halt. Before us stretches an enormous chamber, filled with row upon row of cryopods. Each one contains a figure—all species I've never seen before. All of them motionless, trapped in icy slumber, just as I was in between seasons.

"Stars above," I breathe, certain there must be hundreds of them. The sight before us is as awe-inspiring as it is terrifying. "What have we stumbled into?"

Chloe's grip on my hand tightens, her pulse racing beneath her skin. "I think we just found the rest of their test subjects."