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Fragmentation 0.6 - JJK
Plot: How does one measure freedom? Are our choices truly our own, or are they part of a preset design outside of our control? We all have a question burning inside of us, though few speak it out. It is the question that drives us forward, seeking purpose in our lives. What is The Matrix?
Rating: NC-17 // NSFW
Genre: Series | The Matrix!AU | angst | sci-fi | action | drama
Pairing: N/A
Warnings: Strong language, allusions to suicide, extreme angst, graphic violence
Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]
Word Count: 2,615
AN: We are now jacking back into “The Matrix” with Jungkook. The heaviness with his story rivals Yoongi’s, but that’s my own personal opinion on the matter. Again, all information in the universe can be found on the official Matrix Wiki so please use that as a reference guide if you ever get confused!
Tag List: @aroseforyoongi, @prisczero, @pinkpjmin, @btsaudge, @flowerwrites06, @unoriginal-username15432
© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.
Jungkook shoved the blankets off of him, rolling out of bed with a grunt. As he sleepily rubbed at his eyes with one hand, he used the other to blindly grope around on the floor for a pair of pants. Grabbing the flannel pajama bottoms, he hopped on one foot as he slid one leg into them while pivoting on one heel to get into the other. Like a delirious dancer, he spun around until Jungkook perfectly landed ass first into his computer chair.
It didn’t matter that the girl he’d just fucked out of her mind was passed out in his bed. He didn’t care that she was spiraling down an ecstasy-laden highway in her dreams. Jungkook didn’t remember her name and he honestly couldn’t have cared about what it was, either. Why should it matter when she wasn’t going to stick around when the morning came? She’d leave Jungkook once she was satisfied with everything she’d gotten.
She was just like the rest of them; no different than the others.
Another nameless and faceless individual in a sea of nameless and faceless individuals that forgot him just as easily as he forgot them.
Shifting the mouse with his pinkie, the monitor to his computer flickered to life - chasing the spiral fractal screensaver from view. The brightness from the screen caused him to squint slightly and he fumbled around on the desk for his glasses. The fringe of his hair tickled his forehead, making it itch, and he absently rubbed at his face before sliding his glasses onto his face.
Leaning his neck slightly, he popped and stretched the stiffness from it. Pulling up a browser, he activated his console command and quickly activated his ghost hack. It would take him about ten minutes to pick back up on the trail he was on previously, but at least Jungkook managed to figure out all the shortcuts now. Tracing his footsteps wouldn’t be as hard as it used to be. Not like it was a year ago.
“Frost,” he murmured, waiting for the encryption to fully settle before his fingers flew across his keyboard, “I’ve almost got you…”
But what am I gonna do when I finally find you?
It was a question Jungkook often asked himself, unsure of what the answer would have been and if he even really wanted to know.
At first, the days bled on and it was just something to pass the time; to give meaning to his seemingly monotonous existence.
School.
Part-time job.
Party.
Home.
Rinse and repeat.
Something always felt off about his life. Jungkook blamed it on teenage hormones and falling into a hole that belonged to an angst-filled emo subculture that he thought he wanted to be a part of. For a time, he was. The acquaintances he met and the people that he was introduced to seemed genuine. For a time, Jungkook felt like he found a sense of belonging.
Drugs and booze and rebellion coursed through his veins - shredding through his blood like the best kind of high. He joined up with a group that believed they were meant to serve a higher purpose. Jungkook wanted to think that maybe he’d found a place with a few more answers regarding the “meaning” to his existence. He’d been alone for so long that there was an opportunity for him to obtain that which he so desperately was seeking. It wouldn’t have been illogical for him to cling to that feeling with everything that he had so he didn’t fall into an empty pit of wastefulness.
Three months slid by faster than he could process it. Jungkook received a message in an encrypted email. It was one sentence. A question.
When you look in the mirror, who is staring back at you?
At first, Jungkook thought it was a prank; some twisted internet joke from some hacker he’d pissed off. But the question lingered in the back of his mind. It was a seed that was now planted, growing and taking root. Like the itch that yearned to be scratched but your arm just wasn’t long enough to reach. It was a question, a splinter, that very nearly drove Jungkook mad.
What was the answer? Was there an answer?
Jungkook continued the monotony of his day-to-day life, wondering if he would ever be able to catch up to Frost. His cryptic question festered like an infected wound, yearning for healing, but only Jungkook could solve this internal dilemma. Chasing after Frost would do nothing because somewhere deep inside, he already knew that Frost wouldn’t tell him the answer.
Only Jungkook had the answer to the question. No one else.
The months continued to slide by, the seasons changing with the times. Jungkook, alone, often found himself staring listlessly out of his bedroom window. The world seemed so desaturated. When had everything lost its lustre? When did the rain pouring from the skies start looking like black tar tinted with green? Like an oil slick abandoned in a construction zone - lying there without purpose.
He was getting no closer to finding out the truth. He wasn’t able to find the answer to the question that Frost asked him. It frustrated Jungkook to no end. How was he supposed to know? Of course the person staring back at him was himself! Who else would it be? It was the same dark eyes, the same unkempt fringe and lightly tanned skin, the same beauty mark on his chin and below his bottom lip.
It can only be me, he thought as he stepped out of the shower, looking at his steamed up reflection in the mirror, the person staring back at me...is me…
Drying his hair, he slumped into his chair and lit a cigarette - inhaling the smoke and exhaling it out across the computer screen. His fingers slowly began to type, searching out for something. His ghost hack was always present, allowing him a chance to bring up various articles in the darker parts of the net. Most people traversed this forbidden area of the internet because it gave people a sort of adrenaline kick; the thrill of the chase. Some made illegal deals, indulged in illegal gambling, and even went so far as to hire someone to “clean up” some mess in their lives.
Jungkook merely sought out information.
He was getting closer. He could feel it. Was it because he finally found the answer? Or was it something else?
Again, the months continued to press on. When there wasn’t rain, there was snow. The frost collecting on his window may have been the signal that he was waiting for. The time must have been right.
It was another lonely night filled with emptiness. He perched himself up on his windowsill, smoking a cigarette as another nameless girl moaned out her pleasure on his bed. Another one he could say he’d taken advantage of, even though she believed she was the one doing the taking. Confidence was a hell of a drug and she seemed to be teeming with it. Like he could fault her for such a thing.
As he stared mindlessly out across the snow-covered sidewalk below his apartment complex, he watched more of the frost collect itself on the glass. Jungkook didn’t think much of it as his breath blew across the window. But then something changed, causing him to drop the cigarette into the tray by his feet.
You are still in a cage, Miles…
Something heavy banged against the door to his apartment, startling him to his feet. Jungkook’s heart drummed heavily, causing his breathing to puff out in short bursts. Not wasting a single moment, he grabbed his coat and jumped into a pair of sneakers. Thank God he was still wearing his jeans, though he would regret the cold soon for not bothering to put a shirt on. There wasn’t any time and somehow Jungkook knew that. Danger hungrily clawed at the other side of his door and he didn’t have time to question whether he would be able to face it when it finally burst through.
Jungkook slid the window open, shivering at the cold wind that whipped clean through him. Snow covered his eyelashes, forcing him to squint. He tumbled out of the window just seconds before the door splintered open from it being forced open. Jungkook landed on the fire escape, rattling snow off the bars, and he quickly descended. There was urgency in his steps and he didn’t bother with the last stairwell, choosing to hop over the railing.
His feet landed on top of the large metal dumpster below, the force of the landing causing his legs to tremble. Jungkook pressed forward, rolling off it and crashing to the ground. As he looked up, he saw a man wearing sunglasses and dressed in a suit peering down at him. This wasn’t good and he knew it. Jungkook scrambled to his feet and took off in a dead run down the alley. As he reached the street, there was the sound of squealing tires as a motorcycle pulled up right beside him, causing Jungkook to jump to the side.
A woman dressed in a silverish gray windsuit peered back at him. Her eyes were dark, her skin a soft mocha, and her head of curly hair peeked out from beneath the hood of her jacket. She revved the engine to life, glancing at him. “Get on,” she barked.
Jungkook knew the level of danger he was in and he could sense he was safer with this stranger than what was pursuing him on his heels. He quickly hopped onto the back, wrapped his arms around her waist, and she gunned it down the street. The world of neon zipped by in a blur and Jungkook could barely keep his eyes open. Tears leaked from them as the cold air cut across his skin.
“Where are we going?” he yelled over the roar of the city and the wind whipping around his ears.
“Shut-up, Kid,” she hollered back, weaving in and out from between other vehicles, “before you bite your tongue.”
Well, he certainly couldn’t argue with that. So, instead, he closed his eyes and gripped onto his forearm resting against her stomach.
“Wake up, Miles.”
Jungkook groaned, lifting his head up sleepily as he took in the world around him. He slowly fisted one of his eyes, attempting to rid it of the haze of sleep that was still trying to fog up his mind. How long had he been asleep? Or, more importantly, how long had they been stationary?
The first thing he noticed was the feeling of warmth. He quickly deduced they were no longer outside. But when had he been transported from outside in the first place?
The light in the room was dim, which he was thankful for. He wasn’t sure if he could handle any bright lights or weird experimentation on himself after just waking up. As he sat up from the couch, he looked around and saw that there was a large glass of water set on a table in front of him. Past the glass and the table sat two individuals in two separate wingback chairs. One was the woman who rescued him, the other was an Asian man with dark, crimped hair. They both looked at him pointedly, one of them steepling his fingers as he rested his elbows on the arms of the chair.
“What the hell is going on?”
“There isn’t much time, Miles, so we’re going to do this quickly.” said the man, his face devoid of any emotion. “You know who I am, don’t you?”
Did he? Jungkook swallowed the lump in his throat. And why did he keep calling him by that--?
His eyes widened. “...Frost.” Jungkook leaned forward on the couch. “You’re Frost!”
“Bingo. Gold star for you.” Frost sighed, casting a sidelong glance toward the woman in the other chair. “So now we’re going to give you the choice that I never had.”
The woman rolled her eyes. “Oh God, not this again.”
Frost’s expression darkened. “Animus, you said I could do this my way, so let me.”
“Fine.” The woman called “Animus” looked at Jungkook, holding her right fist to him. When she opened it, there sat a blue pill in the center of her palm. “If you take this, you’ll never see us again. You won’t recognize us even if we were to pass you on the street. You get to remain in this life of monotony, but you’ll no longer agonize over what your purpose is in this world.”
Jungkook blinked. How could she have known that? How could she have known that he was searching so desperately for the meaning of his existence? His eyes slowly shifted over to where Frost sat. Had he told her?
Frost held his own fist out, opening it and showing a red pill situated on his palm. Jungkook stared at it for a long time, hearing the rate of his heart escalate against his ear canals. “If you take this, you’ll be able to come with us. You’ll find out the truth and you can finally discover what your purpose is.”
He didn’t hesitate. Reaching for the pill in Frost’s hand, he grabbed it and the glass of water. Popping the pill into his mouth, he swallowed it in a single gulp - washing it down with the water. Suddenly, other people began walking inside as Animus began hooking Jungkook up to a few heart monitoring pads connected to an array of machinery that he managed to miss spying when he’d first woken up.
“W-What’s happening?” he asked, looking to Frost for guidance.
Animus stroked her fingers through his fringe, smirking as she walked away. Frost approached him, his expression stoic but his eyes were just a bit more gentle than earlier.
“You need to breathe, Miles.” There was a distinct beeping sound off to the right as everything rippled around him. Why did everything look so fuzzy? “We’re almost there.”
“Almost where?!”
Animus pulled out a cell phone, dialed a number and held it up to her ear. “I need a location, Spectre. Agents will be all over this place in five minutes.”
Jungkook’s heart froze. He didn’t know what that meant, but he had a feeling that it meant something dangerous. Were those men who barreled through his apartment those so-called “Agents”? He tried to stand, but Frost immediately pushed him back down into the seat.
“Frost, what is going on!?” The world was starting to grow a little bit more fuzzy as his heart rate increased, causing him to hyperventilate. “What’s happening to me?!”
“You made the choice, Miles. Now you have to live with it.” Frost sighed, his brows furrowing slightly. “I’ll be waiting for you on the other side.”
And when the white noise fully enveloped his surroundings, Jungkook felt the floor open up beneath him as the darkness swallowed him whole. He tried to scream, but it sounded hollow in his ears. Gravity pushed his stomach all the way up to his chest, causing tears to stream from his eyes. He was afraid, but something told him that he wouldn’t be alone when he finally stopped falling.
In a flash, everything began to grow dark around the corners of his eyes. The walls were covered in strings of green code against a black background. It flickered like this for a few seconds, chasing away the fear that was attempting to suffocate Jungkook. Wonder replaced it, his arm reaching out to try and touch it.
Darkness spread like an oil spill.
“Welcome to the Real World.”
Fragmentation 0.8
Plot: How does one measure freedom? Are our choices truly our own, or are they part of a preset design outside of our control? We all have a question burning inside of us, though few speak it out. It is the question that drives us forward, seeking purpose in our lives. What is The Matrix?
Rating: NC-17 // NSFW
Genre: Series | The Matrix!AU | angst | sci-fi | action | drama
Pairing: N/A
Warnings: Strong language, allusions to suicide, extreme angst, graphic violence
Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]
Word Count: 2,138
AN: Like all of my works, there will be OCs working opposite of the boys. In this story, we have three. The first in the Fragmentation series is Mackenzie. Like Yoongi and Hoseok, she is self-substantiated. How she does will be revealed! On to Crow’s origin story for Defragmentation! All information in the universe can be found on the official Matrix Wiki so please use that as a reference guide if you ever get confused!
Tag List: @aroseforyoongi, @prisczero, @pinkpjmin, @btsaudge, @flowerwrites06, @unoriginal-username15432
© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.
“Goddammit Mackenzie! I thought I told you to be home by eleven!”
A pair of green eyes glared up at the rotund looking man. His reddish complexion was barely seen from the scraggly beard covering the majority of his face. Sweat soaked through the dingy wife beater he wore, half stuffed into a pair of faded cargo pants. There were a pair of dog tags hanging from his neck - something that always piqued the green-eyed owner’s interest, but never enough to ask about them.
Mackenzie doubted he served anyone but himself, let alone the country.
Instead of answering him, she folded her arms across her chest. Normally this was the time when she escaped into her room, but he was blocking the way. He was always getting in her way.
It was his fault. Life used to be normal. This was as far from normal as a person could get. He was as far from being a real father as a person could get.
“You don’t have anything to say for yourself?”
She rolled her eyes, doing her best to ignore the stink of alcohol on his breath. Mackenzie didn’t understand why he persisted on being like this. It was the same shit on a different day. Part of her wished that he would walk outside and get hit by a bus. But she knew that that was a miracle she would never be granted.
“Answer me!”
“What do you expect when I’m closing?” Mackenzie asked, her tone flat and devoid of all emotion.
Her father’s eyes narrowed at her. She didn’t even flinch. “What did you just say to me?”
“I didn’t stutter,” came her clipped response as she let her arms fall to her side, “now move. I still have homework to do.”
Before she could take a single step, her father was advancing on her. Mackenzie mentally braced herself for what was coming. Her body was used to it, but it was always that dark corner in the back of her mind that suffered the most from all of this. So long as that part was shielded, she could handle everything else that usually followed.
The pain that exploded from the side of her head paled in comparison to the pain of her hip crashing to the floor. Her arms immediately shot up to cover the top of her head as her body curled into a ball. The flurry of kicks that collided into her caused her nerves to scream out in agony. But Mack refused to scream, instead choosing to bite the inside of her mouth. The taste of blood flooded across her tongue and she heard her teeth clacking together when the heel of her father’s boot hit the top of her head.
After what felt like hours, but were actually minutes, her father abandoned her there on the floor. Every square inch of Mack’s body throbbed from the pain. There would be bruises tomorrow. Thankfully he’d missed her face so she could still go to work and school without receiving too many curious gazes. It was none of their goddamn business anyway.
Mack waited until she heard the front door slam before picking herself up off the floor. She roughly rubbed the back of her wrist across the corner of her mouth, eyeing the blood smear and rolling her eyes. She couldn’t help but wonder if the old man would notice if she spit on the floor just to spite him. Would he even care?
Grunting, she made her way into her bedroom, locking the door after shutting it behind her. Her father would most likely be out getting drunk for the rest of the night. It meant she had the whole house to herself until he came stumbling back in at four in the morning. Mack just hoped that she’d be able to get all of her school assignments finished and have enough time to surf the internet. Something told her that she was getting closer to finding what she was looking for.
Or, rather, who she was looking for.
Speeding through her homework, Mack pulled up several browser windows once she was securely connected to the internet. Her eyes darted across the screen, her fingers flying over the keys - pausing only long enough to use her mouse to click on a few links that spiraled her into another location. Mack reached out to everyone that might have a lead and she got just a little bit closer than she did the day before.
After another hour, she was starting to get frustrated. Everything was forcing her into a dead end. Just when she thought she had a lead, it only caused her to go on a wild goose chase on the wide web. Mack roughly scratched at her head, attempting to tamp down on her slowly mounting anger.
“Dammit!” She slammed her fists on her desk, rattling everything on it. “Why can’t anyone just give me a straight fucking answer?!”
Burying her face in her hands, Mack did her best to suppress a sob that she didn’t even realize was building up in the back of her throat. She was tired, in pain, and a little hungry. But most of all, she was starting to lose hope. And that was starting to hurt her more than she would care to admit aloud.
“Fuck it,” she muttered, standing up from her chair, “I’ll pick this up in the morning.”
Just as Mack turned away from her desk, the ping from her instant messenger sounded from the laptop. Pausing, she craned her neck to look at the screen. The username consisted of a series of random numbers. But what made her heart nearly drop to her stomach was what the person said.
You’ll never find Michael because you don’t know The Truth.
Mack ran back to her desk, her fingers gliding over the keyboard. She could barely hear herself typing from how loudly her heart was beating inside of her eardrums. It was the first time someone responded to her inquiries with something credible. It was the first time she could actually believe what she was seeing.
Because it was the first time someone actually mentioned her brother by name.
Who are you? How do you know that name?
The cursor on her screen blinked steadily. Mack wasn’t sure how much more she could take because she was almost positive that this was the clue she’d been searching for after all this time. It was a solid lead just because someone was able to give her a name. If they knew her brother’s name, that meant that they also had a good idea of where he was. She couldn’t afford to let this person slip from her grasp.
Who I am doesn’t matter.
How I know doesn’t matter.
What matters is...
What are you willing to do to know The Truth?
She stared at the computer dumbfounded. Was this another trick? Was this person just jerking her chain, trying to lead her into a false sense of security before sucker punching her in the face like everyone else? It would be the most logical explanation. It was the only thing that actually made sense.
Mack didn’t know why, but she felt like that wasn’t the case. Not with this person. Were they trying to lead her onto the right path after having been on the wrong one for so long?
Narrowing her eyes, she began typing again.
Anything.
The air was cold and frigid. Mack rubbed her hands together, her breath coming out in small white clouds. She peered through the metal fence as people continued to file through the city. She was isolated from the rest, sitting on a park bench and waiting. She looked at her watch, making a mental note of the time. She had five minutes left to wait.
Five minutes until she would know whether this was real or a hoax.
The sound of gravel crunching underfoot quickly brought her out of her thoughts. Mack stood up immediately, facing the direction of the noise. All she could see were the trees cloaked in shadows cast from the street lights. She couldn’t see anyone, but the crunching noise wouldn’t stop. There was a large lump forming in Mack’s throat and she couldn’t help wondering if she’d fallen into a trap.
Seconds after thinking that, a young woman dressed in gray and black appeared. She wore a long black coat with a hood just barely covering her head of thick curls. Her eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. The rest of her outfit was some sort of gray jumpsuit that almost seemed to shimmer when it hit the light just right. The legs of the suit were stuffed into a pair of shin high combat boots - the heels continuously crunching into the gravel; releasing an eerie sound.
Mack puffed out another breath of cloudy air just as the woman stopped three feet from her.
“Y-You’re early,” she managed to stammer out.
The other woman smirked, her auburn curls accentuating her mocha skin even in shadow. “If you’re early, you’re on time. If you’re on time, you’re late. You’re late, Mack.” She reached up with a gloved hand to remove the sunglasses from her face, revealing a set of dark hazel eyes. “Or should I say, Crow?”
Mack took a step back, her lips parting slightly as the woman referred to her as both her name and her alias. Her heart hammered against her ribs, causing her lungs to tighten up inside. What in the world was happening? Just how much did this woman know?
Not wanting to look like some punk, she shook her head and straightened her stance. “You have information I want and yet I don’t know anything about you.”
The woman continued to smile. “I already told you that who I am doesn’t matter. It never will matter.” She shrugged. “Not until you know The Truth.”
“What the hell is this truth you keep talking about?” Mack could feel her anger starting to grow. “What does it even mean?”
She watched the other woman reaching into her pocket to pull out a cell phone. She punched a few numbers and then pressed it up to her ear. “Unfortunately, we don’t have a whole lot of time for me to explain. You’re going to have to see it for yourself.”
Mack bit her lower lip, her eyes narrowing as she watched the woman reaching into her other pocket with her free hand. Half a second later, her heart froze as the woman trained the business end of a semi-automatic pistol at her.
“Whoa,” Mack said, raising her hands up slowly, “what in the fuck are you doing, lady?”
“You have a choice to make, Crow, and you don’t have a whole lot of time to make it, so I’ll be quick.”
Panic began to settle around Mack’s chest. “What do you mean I don’t have a lot of time?!”
“Agents are coming. They’re coming for you because you’re sloppy and desperate, which, sadly, is making me sloppy and desperate.”
When the hammer clicked back on the gun, tears sprung up in Mack’s eyes. “Please, don’t do this.”
“Shut-up,” snapped the woman, the smile now completely gone from her face, “I already told you we don’t have a lot of time. You have two choices. You let the Agents take you or I force you out of the bubble you’ve unknowingly been put in. I’m giving you five seconds starting now. Five.”
She took another step back, but the woman advanced on her. Mack didn’t know what any of it meant. What did she mean by “agents” and why did it seem like this woman was trying to help her, despite the situation looking crazy to everyone else?
“Four.”
Her heart shook in her chest, causing her to reach up and clutch at the front of her jacket. Mack didn’t want to die. She didn’t want to die without knowing the answers.
“Three.”
She still didn’t know where her brother was. She still didn’t know what The Truth was and what it had to do with her brother.
“Two.”
She wanted to live!
Mack ran up to the woman, wrestling the gun from her grasp. The woman took a step back, but the smile returned to her face. Mack pressed the barrel of the gun up to her temple as tears streamed down her cheeks. Multiple footsteps seemed to thunder through the gravel, but Mack could only see the single snowflake that began to fall from the night sky. The world disappeared into lines of green numbers before returning to normal.
She smiled.
“One.”
After the gunshot ripped through the night, Mack’s world darkened immediately. But she...she felt free, somehow.
“Welcome to the Real World.”
Fragmentation 0.8
Plot: How does one measure freedom? Are our choices truly our own, or are they part of a preset design outside of our control? We all have a question burning inside of us, though few speak it out. It is the question that drives us forward, seeking purpose in our lives. What is The Matrix?
Rating: NC-17 // NSFW
Genre: Series | The Matrix!AU | angst | sci-fi | action | drama
Pairing: N/A
Warnings: Strong language, allusions to suicide, extreme angst, graphic violence
Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]
Word Count: 2,138
AN: Like all of my works, there will be OCs working opposite of the boys. In this story, we have three. The first in the Fragmentation series is Mackenzie. Like Yoongi and Hoseok, she is self-substantiated. How she does will be revealed! On to Crow’s origin story for Defragmentation! All information in the universe can be found on the official Matrix Wiki so please use that as a reference guide if you ever get confused!
Tag List: @aroseforyoongi, @prisczero, @pinkpjmin, @btsaudge, @flowerwrites06, @unoriginal-username15432
© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.
Keep reading
Fragmentation 0.9
Plot: How does one measure freedom? Are our choices truly our own, or are they part of a preset design outside of our control? We all have a question burning inside of us, though few speak it out. It is the question that drives us forward, seeking purpose in our lives. What is The Matrix?
Rating: NC-17 // NSFW
Genre: Series | The Matrix!AU | angst | sci-fi | action | drama
Pairing: N/A
Warnings: Strong language, allusions to suicide, extreme angst, graphic violence
Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]
Word Count: 2,138
AN: Like all of my works, there will be OCs working opposite of the boys. In this story, we have three. Next in the Fragmentation series is Sabine. As you may recall, she is Hoseok’s childhood friend and the one who convinced him to leave The Matrix with her. This is her tale on how she became the captain of their ship. On to Animus’s origin story for Defragmentation! All information in the universe can be found on the official Matrix Wiki so please use that as a reference guide if you ever get confused!
Tag List: @aroseforyoongi, @prisczero, @pinkpjmin, @btsaudge, @flowerwrites06, @unoriginal-username15432, @taegiq,
© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.
Taking a deep, slow breath, Sabine peered out over the cityscape. The number of buildings she could see were seemingly endless. A soft wind tickled her face as her dark auburn curls flew back - the air whipping past her ears in a way that made it almost impossible to hear. Ambient noise from below seemed to pulse from the ground, rising to meet her as the sun began its slow descent beneath the clouds. Everything was cloaked in smatterings of gold, orange, pink and purple, signifying that the end of the day was drawing near. The twilight hour.
It was her favorite time of the day.
A soft smirk pulled at the corners of her lips, her hands stuffed into the over-sized hoodie she was wearing. When the wind finally eased up, Sabine felt her hair settle around her cheeks and shoulders before she turned away. The heels of her boots scraped along the concrete of the rooftop she was currently situated on. She took a step back, reaching the edge, and breathed in another lungful of air.
Then she took another step back, her body lifting up onto the lip of the building.
Another rush of wind pushed against her back, as if telling her not to take another step further. Because another step further would mean falling off the edge. It would be the end of everything that meant something to her if she did.
The door for the rooftop access slammed wide open. Sabine’s eyes narrowed as several Agents filed out, their guns trained on her. The smirk never left her face, but her head tilted slightly when the sound of several hammer clicks registered. Scoffing more to herself, she pivoted her body to the left - feeling her legs kick off the ground as she did a left handspring on the edge of the roof just as several gunshots rang out.
Bullets zipped by her until Sabine was forced to lunge forward, her body curling into itself as she rolled across the ground. Several pairs of feet thundered along the concrete as more bullets impaled along the surface. She continued to roll until there was nowhere left for her to go. Scrambling to her feet, she jumped and broke through the nearest window, her body continuing its fluid motion as she rolled down the stairs.
Her back slammed against the wall, forcing her to catch her breath as the Agents piled back into the building. Springing out, she quickly dashed down the stairs before gripping onto the handrail, spinning off the stairs, and lurching her body over the railing to sail down the central opening of the spiraling staircase. Spinning her body around, she pulled out both of her pistols from her holsters and aimed upwards just as the Agents pursuing her opened fire.
Firing off several shots, Sabine made quick mental notes of an immediate exit strategy once she hit the ground. She managed to empty out both clips completely before rolling her body around in mid-air, her heels crashing onto the ground. The stone tiles cracked and popped up from beneath her, causing the entire building to shake from her impact. Without looking back, she tore through the front entrance of the abandoned building and took off in a dead run down the street.
Glass shattered around her as bullets zipped by, spraying various contents in different directions. She felt one graze her shoulder, causing her to wince. She jumped over several crates and boxes, her legs pumping hard as she made her way through the industrial district. Pedestrians looked on in wonder, but she didn’t have the luxury to tell them to get out of the way. They would be fodder and the reason for her existence being erased if she made a mistake.
Rounding a corner, she gasped as she came face to face with the barrel of a handgun. Instinct urged her to swivel to the right just as the gun fired. A distinct ringing noise pinged in her ear and she barely managed to jam her elbow out to hit the Agent’s forearm. His hand slammed into the brick wall, forcing the gun from his hand. Her body jerked to the ground, her fingers grabbing the gun in one swift motion. She surged forward, her shoulder bashing into his chest as she slid her forearm against him. Pressing the barrel of the gun under his chin, she didn’t hesitate to squeeze the trigger.
A ripple of electricity revealed that the Agent took over an old woman. Sabine scoffed, dropping the gun and bolting for the subway entrance. It was dangerous to be underground, but she only needed to get to one place. She only needed to make it there with a few seconds to spare.
Her boots clicked along the pavement, her breathing labored as her heart thundered against her chest. The sound of a phone ringing reverberated off the stone walls. A train sped through, its wheels screaming along the metal track. She skid to a halt just in front of a row of pay phones, dust rising up around her. She managed to snatch it off the hook, but not before the head of the receiver exploded near her face. Plastic pieces shot out and scraped her cheek, forcing her to drop the ruined device as it swung purposelessly from its metal connection rope.
“Shit!” she snapped, barely dodging a fist aimed for her face.
Spinning on her back heel, Sabine avoided another hit as her back slammed into the wall. Her leg shot up, knocking the gun from the Agent’s hand as it went flying onto the now vacant train tracks. The Agent flung a kick out at her, forcing her to use both arms to block the blow meant for her chest. Her body went airborne and slammed into the wall. The impact was similar to being hit with a mack truck, leaving behind an imprint of her body as broken pieces of concrete and brick littered the ground around her feet.
A spray of red mist escaped from her mouth seconds before she crashed to the ground on her knees. Another phone rang, preceding the harsh symphony of another train speeding along the track further down the tunnel. Pain exploded along the back of her neck as another kick successfully landed against her, causing her body to slide along the ground.
Sabine groaned as more blood leaked from the corners of her mouth. The sound of the phone seemed to almost mock her, telling her that she was so close to the finish line but that she would not, in fact, finish. The thought of failing angered her, fueling something inside of her that she knew lurked among the shadows of her own heart.
She spit. “Get up,” she muttered, her body screaming at her to move.
The Agent advanced on her, his movements slow and predatory. Sabine growled as she spun her body up, her legs kicking into the air before flipping right-side up onto her feet. She reached into her jacket and quickly whipped it out, the metallic shink sang out as the steel baton extended. The Agent canted his head slightly and Sabine flashed a blood-stained grin, launching herself forward to charge headlong at him. He parried many of her attacks, but she kept a close eye on his feet to ensure that he was backing up with her mindless assault.
Screaming at the top of her lungs, she spun and whipped her arm out. The baton slammed into the Agent’s forearms as he lifted them up to block her attack. The subway shook with the approaching train’s momentum, causing small bits of dirt to fall from the ceiling. Sabine took another breath, leaped forward, and took aim for the Agent’s face. He caught her by the forearm, but not before she was able to spin around, landing a solid heel kick to his shin. He buckled, allowing her the opportunity she needed to slam her knee into his face. Using the force of his motion, he landed a fist straight into her gut. Sabine flew backwards into the wall, a sharp cry of pain all she could muster before hitting the ground.
She looked up to see the Agent falling into the path of the train seconds before it approached. It zipped by in a blur and Sabine quickly pushed herself off the floor. She ran back toward the row of pay phones, all but tearing it off the hook and pressing it against her ear. Everything disappeared around her in a wave of green - all of it transforming into strings of code.
“So,” mused Rear Admiral Brahn, “I see you were able to obtain the data we needed, Commander.”
Animus saluted, her eyes staring straight ahead as Brahn circled her. He held a case containing a data disk inside, moving it back and forth as he walked. After he nodded, she lowered her arm and stood at attention. Others stood behind the Rear Admiral, Captains of their own vessels. They were overseeing the last of her field training since she initiated her pursuit for her rank promotion.
In her mind, she had no doubt she would achieve it. They had no reason to deny her. The Council also agreed that she was fit to lead.
Rear Admiral Brahn, however, was another matter altogether.
She could see his stern expression in her peripheral vision. Her eyes continued to look ahead as he obstructed her line of sight. Pity. She was enjoying herself by studying the rust building on one of the pipes hanging overhead.
“You took on an Agent, Commander Animus. That was both reckless and unnecessary.” His eyes narrowed at her. “Your mission was to secure the information you obtained and return from The Matrix immediately . Nothing else.”
“Sir, yes Sir!”
“Explain yourself, Commander!”
“Sir!” Animus saluted again. “I was left with no choice.”
“You were fortunate there was more than one avenue for an Operator to get you out. But what if that wasn’t the case?” He scoffed. “You can’t expect to make those same kinds of decisions if you’re a Captain, Animus. You’re liable to get you and your crew killed.”
Slowly, Animus lowered her hand back down to rest at her side. She took a breath, expelled it, then shifted her gaze to meet Brahn’s. “We won’t always be able to run from them, Rear Admiral, Sir. It’s an operative’s duty to the people of Zion to gain every advantage we can in this war. The Machines are willing to do anything to stop us.”
Brahn quirked a brow. “Your point?”
She narrowed her eyes. “We have to be willing to do the same, Sir.”
There was a pregnant pause that seemed to stretch on for half a lifetime. After feeling Brahn’s eyes scrutinizing her for a few seconds longer, he pivoted away from her and made his way toward the other Captains. She wasn’t sure if she should feel relieved, but Animus held her breath all the same.
“Well, I certainly hope you can maintain that enthusiasm when leading your crew, Commander Animus.” Brahn set the mini disk case on the table where the other Captains sat, craning his neck to look at her. “If you can’t, their blood will be on your hands.”
She could feel her heart thudding wildly inside of her ribs and she smothered down the smile that threatened to break out across her face. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Animus saluted as the other Captains saluted her as well. She saw some smiles of approval while the others’ expressions remained impassive. That was fine. It was fine.
Her test was over now.
“Your new rank appointment and credentials will be sent to you by oh-seven hundred tomorrow. You’re dismissed.”
“Sir!”
She turned to head out of the briefing room. Animus waited for the doors to slide open. Just as she was about to leave, she heard Brahn clearing his throat loudly. She paused, craning her neck to peer back into the briefing room.
“Sir?”
“Your First Mate, Crash, has your crew manifest.”
Animus blinked in surprise. Her best friend was going to be part of her crew. Hiding her elation, she nodded slowly in understanding before raising her brows in question. “I already have a ship assignment, Sir?”
“Yes, you do.”
She smiled. “Her name?”
The Rear Admiral smirked as he folded his hands behind his back. “The Amaterasu.”
Her smile remained and, again, she saluted her superior. “Thank you, Sir.”
Fragmentation 1.0
Plot: How does one measure freedom? Are our choices truly our own, or are they part of a preset design outside of our control? We all have a question burning inside of us, though few speak it out. It is the question that drives us forward, seeking purpose in our lives. What is The Matrix?
Rating: NC-17 // NSFW
Genre: Series | The Matrix!AU | angst | sci-fi | action | drama
Pairing: N/A
Warnings: Strong language, allusions to suicide, extreme angst, graphic violence
Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]
Word Count: 3,435
AN: Like all of my works, there will be OCs working opposite of the boys. In this story, we have three. Next in the Fragmentation series is Elain. She is slated to be The One in the series. This is her tale on how she was found by one of the crew members of The Amaterasu. On to Hitomi’s origin story for Defragmentation! All information in the universe can be found on the official Matrix Wiki so please use that as a reference guide if you ever get confused!
Tag List: @aroseforyoongi, @prisczero, @pinkpjmin, @btsaudge, @flowerwrites06, @unoriginal-username15432, @shrimpmsg
© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.
Elain proceeded to clean up a few of the glasses that were left over in the sink. She saw Sam wiping the back of his hands on his apron before he reached over to grab another dish towel. Elain smiled, held her hand out to stop him and the grin only got bigger as she saw the inquisitive look on his face. He was, to say the least, slightly confused. Closing time always was the slowest and most boring part of a bartender's job description.
"Don't you need me to help you out?"
The woman smiled softly, tossing some of her dark blonde curls out of her face as she leaned forward to finish pulling out a few more wet glasses from out the sink to dry them. "I've got this. You just go on back to the house. You've been here since noon."
Sam was about to protest. He hated seeing Elain doing all the hard work and she knew that. At least he had a place to go home to in the evenings. With company, a warm meal, and a reasonable house of interesting people. But Elain...she only had that apartment with that crazy little border collie of hers. She claimed that she was fine and that the random visits to Sam’s home with his boisterous housemates made up for that, but in all honesty, Sam just thought she needed someone else in her life. A person who could relate to her pain and give her a shoulder to lean on...just as she could give her shoulder to them.
Shrugging out of his apron, he folded it up neatly and placed it in one of the bottom cabinets. "Alright. Well, if you need me to come back, just call me."
Elain nodded, shooing the man out the backdoor so she could close up. After she dried up the remaining glasses, she pulled her own apron off. Looking up at the VIP box office where her managers worked, Elain sighed. Word on the grapevine was that her bosses were affiliated with the mob. Though she couldn't say just how high up the food chain these two men were, she could almost guarantee that they were of high rank and standing within the mafia.
Which, in turn, made them her enemies.
But she couldn't bring herself to be angry with them. After all, from what she could tell, they were involved because they had no other choice. As if it were a sort of livelihood for them. Kyle was an honest, diligent worker. The first to come in to work and the last to leave. Marcus came in and out every once in a while, but for the most part, a good hefty portion of the management job fell onto the younger brother’s shoulders. And, like tonight, only Kyle was working his crazy hours inside that office of his.
Pulling out two glasses, Elain poured a shot and a half's worth of bourbon in each one - adding two ice cubes to lightly dilute the liquid. If she knew anything, Kyle would definitely need an after work drink to relax and calm his nerves. She popped her neck some, massaging the shoulders here and there, before making her way out from behind the counter and sidling into the nearest stool. She picked up the cool glass and touched it to her lips, allowing the liquid to slowly slide down her throat. It was a welcome burn. After tracing her fingertips along the edge of the glass, she started lightly humming a song to herself as her hair, once again, fell into her piercing gray-blue eyes.
Dad...
Elain enjoyed the taste of the liquor sliding down her throat. As she heard the door to the office upstairs closing with a light click, she paused just as the glass was leaving her lips and she looked up with her dark slate eyes to see Kyle locking up the office. Smiling, she set the glass down on the coaster in front of her, looking back at the glass and fingering the edges once more with the tips of her digits. Mentally she smiled bigger than what her outer appearance allowed her to.
After all, she wasn't one for giving away her inner most thoughts. Her specialty was people watching, after all.
The way Kyle shrugged his shoulders as he was locking up gave an air of resistance. Like he was shrinking back from some unknown force around him. It permeated a reclusive air that Elain just wasn't sure she was equal to. Her dog was company enough for her and she definitely didn't shrink back from Janice. The poor border collie would have been so offended. But it indicated just how tight of a hold Kyle had on himself - keeping others at arm's distances, if not further.
He descended the stairwell.
As he reached the bottom, there was a slight hesitation in his steps. She could hear it - feel it - the breath between them so tense it could have been sliced with a knife or cut with fabric shears. Though the pause was but a half a second, Elain could sense the doubt. Would he approach? Should he approach? These were all things that Kyle was probably thinking. Beyond the occasional greeting, the two of them never really conversed all that much. He'd hired her because he was the manager - her boss - and she'd met the credentials needed to do the job. That was all that really mattered, right? Credentials?
He slid into the bar stool next to her and she turned her head on cue, flashing him a smile that was both soft and welcome as he picked up the glass of bourbon. "Thanks."
His hum of approval was a welcoming sound and Elain felt her teeth show. Well, she certainly knew that she was the barkeep for a reason. When he turned to smile at her, Elain couldn't help but wonder if the smile was genuine or if it was a well-rehearsed gesture that Kyle practiced for a while.
"Shouldn't you be home by now? It's not good to work so much," he teased, causing her to quip a brow as she lifted her glass to her lips.
"Nah," she said, shaking her head and closing her eyes as she waved one hand gently to the side before taking a whiff of the bourbon with satisfaction. "There's this sayin' back where I grew up. In a club, it's always the guy servin' the drinks and the guy cuttin' the checks that are the first to come in to work and the last to leave." Elain turned to look at him, eyes half-lidded in their sultry fashion as her smile broadened before winking cutely at him. "Guess that means us, hm?"
Kyle’s smile went from polite to almost devious. “I suppose it does.”
Laughing lightly, she ran a hand through her thick raven locks while turning to look at him, her bangles jangling like little bells by her ear as she moved to rest her elbow on the counter top. "So tell me, Boss Man. Why's it feel like you're locked away up there in your office like some mad scientist instead of coming down here and chatting with me during a break?" She gently clinked her glass against his as he held it up halfway from his face. "For a minute there, I thought it was because you didn't like me."
Her smile widened and she laughed lightly once more, tossing some of her raven hair from her shoulders as her other hand rested on her bare torso. This outfit was indeed quite strange, but she didn't mind. Elain knew it suited the work atmosphere and it was necessary for her to "blend in" because the customer should always be the focus of her attention.
Boss or not, she was currently her customer.
"I would love to come down for a drink every now and then, but I don’t really take breaks with as much work as I do. What's the saying? 'There's no rest for the wicked'? Or, in my case, no rest for the 'Boss Man' as you put it." Kyle gave a little chuckle of his own before it died off to a simple, amused smirk on his lips.
“Not much of a crowd person.” Elain said it like it was a statement versus a question. She waited for him to confirm or deny it, but when he said nothing, she simply shrugged one shoulder and set her glass down on the coaster in front of her. “I can understand that.”
He quirked a brow at her. “You do?”
She nodded, her brows furrowing slightly. “Yeah. I mean, sure, we work in the bar and club business, but we keep ourselves isolated from it all.” She pointed toward his private office. “You have your office and I have my bar,” she continued, smoothing her hand over the counter, “there’s always a line that we divide between us and the rest of the world.”
In a way, it was almost like they were born isolated from what they knew to be the world around them. It felt natural, yet it felt wrong all in the same instance. Elain could never fully gauge why she felt that way, but only that she did.
Kyle looked at her for a long time; longer than what she was used to or even comfortable with. There were a variety of reasons why people stared at her and it was usually because of her appearance. She was a light-skinned, Creole woman with dark blonde curls and piercing grayish-blue eyes. People often thought she wore contacts, but it was just her genetics.
Half English, half Haitian.
He sighed, his eyes shifting to look back at his glass. “And some of us are higher on the food chain than everyone else.”
Elain blinked, confused by his words. “What do you mean, Kyle?”
Suddenly, the door to the club opened. Elain stood up on reflex, her eyes scanning the doorway. A young man of Asian descent with black and orange hair entered. He had a pair of sunglasses on, which was strange for that time of night. He wore a white leather jacket with a black rocker t-shirt underneath stuffed into his black denim jeans with the knees torn open.
“Um, excuse me,” Elain called out to him.
The heels of the man’s combat boots clicked against the tile floor as he scanned the club, his head stopping as he faced in their direction.
She frowned. “I’m sorry, but we’re closed for the night.”
“It’s you.” His voice was soft but full of authority. It caused her brows to furrow in confusion as she heard Kyle shifting from his chair next to her. “You’re the one I’ve been looking for.”
“What are you talking about?”
It was all she could manage to get out before the man was reaching behind him. Within seconds, he was pulling out a gun, the barrel trained at her boss. Elain gasped sharply, her hands shooting up in a show of surrender.
“Hey, what the hell are you doing?!” she demanded.
The man said nothing. Instead, he squeezed the trigger and fired off a shot - the bullet zipping out to plunge itself into Kyle’s forehead. A spray of blood splattered across Elain’s arm as she let out an ear splitting shriek - her eyes growing wide while her boss’s body hit the ground with a hard thud. Tears filled her eyes as she fell to her knees, her hands shakily reaching out to touch him. The sound of rushed footsteps seemed to vibrate inside of her ears, muffling all the noise around her.
As she stared at Kyle’s body, she watched it jerk slightly, as though he were being electrocuted, and then fizzled into a different form. The man lying beside her was no longer the kind and quiet Kyle, but a man whom she didn’t recognize - his eyes covered by a pair of sunglasses and a security earpiece in his ear. Even his suit, casual and comfortable, was replaced with a stuffy one that someone from a high profile security detail would wear.
“W-What’s going on?” Elain barely managed to croak out.
Just then, she felt her arm being grabbed roughly and she craned her neck to see that it was the man who’d killed her boss. Or, at least, the man she’d thought was her boss. She tried to pull herself free, but he only tightened his hold on her.
“Let me go!”
“We don’t have time for this,” he snapped, all but yanking her up to her feet, “we need to leave this place. Now.”
The doors to the club suddenly burst open, a torrent of gunshots and bullets spraying in varying directions. Elain screamed, covering her ears as the stranger immediately slammed his chest into her back. They crashed to the floor and a sharp pain hit her elbows as they collided with the ground. The bar counter served as a momentary shield, the sound of glass breaking as powerful as the smell of alcohol as they leaked from their containers. There was a distinct sound of something being shifted and Elain felt her arm being gripped once more. When she looked back, she saw the stranger pulling out a zippo lighter from his pocket.
Before she could ask him what he was about to do, he shifted his gaze to meet hers. His sunglasses came off during their fall. There was a sharp intake of breath from Elain as she looked into his eyes.
They were the same slate blue as her own.
The man threw the lighter over the counter and Elain could smell the alcohol catching fire. Taking a moment to utilize the confusion, he grabbed for her arm and hauled her up onto her feet. There wasn’t even enough time for him to yell at her to run. She just let her legs instinctively take control. Gunshots rang out through the club as they both bee-lined for the rear entrance to the club.
Sweat ran down Elain’s spine as her feet ate up the ground, the stranger hot on her heels. Sliding on the wet concrete, her shoulder slammed into the brick wall of the alley. Grunting, she tried to urge her legs to keep going but the adrenaline was starting to drain out from her. As if he’d sensed it, the man grabbed her hand and all but dragged her behind him.
They reached the end of the alley, his arm shooting out to stop her from stepping out onto the side street. Elain’s heart drummed heavily against her chest, the beating reaching her ears and muffling all other sounds from her senses. There was a point where she thought the world was blurring in and out of focus around her, but she couldn’t be sure. Were those men still chasing them? Was she actually standing there and not running anymore?
The sound of tires screeching to a halt was the last thing Elain heard before everything motion blurred around her - fading into darkness.
“Somebody better start talking,” Elain snarled, her back pressed to the wall of what looked like an abandoned building, “I want answers!”
Another Asian man, different from the one who’d snatched her from the club, stood in an opposite corner of the room. He cradled what looked like a sniper rifle in his hands, the barrel of the gun resting along his left shoulder and across his body. He scoffed, a derisive smirk spreading over his lips.
“She’s feisty,” he said, craning his neck to look at the man who brought her there, “I like her already.”
“Keep it in your pants, Ares,” snapped a woman with blonde hair stuffed into a ball cap, “business first. You can get laid later.”
The man, Ares, snorted before leveling his gaze back to Elain. She frowned at him, his arrogant smirk refusing to fall. For good measure, she threw the bird at him. Instead of responding in offense, Ares laughed and shook his head. It caused Elain to blink and further pressed herself along the wall.
Unable to shake the trepidation from her body, she clutched and wrung her hands together. The person who brought her to that unknown place approached her. When he was less than three feet away from her, Elain shifted again even though she knew she had nowhere to go.
“You can relax. You’re safe and among friends.” He tried to sound reassuring and she had to admit that his soft voice was, in a sense, calming.
“Speak for yourself.” The woman cut her green eyes to Elain. “We’re not even sure she’s going to relent.”
“She will, Crow.” Ares’s smirk widened. “She’s too curious not to.”
“Quiet. Both of you.” The man never took his eyes off of her, forcing Elain to focus on only him for the moment. “They call me Cobra. I’m sure you’ve heard of me.”
Elain’s lips parted, her eyes widening in shock. “Y-You’re--?”
“The one who successfully hacked the government’s Central Intelligence systems? You would be right.” Cobra smiled, the gentleness meeting his eyes. “I had some help, of course, but it was mostly my work.”
“Don’t let Frost or Miles hear you. They’ll never let you hear the end of it.” The woman, Crow, called out to them but Cobra didn’t acknowledge her physically. He kept his eyes locked on Elain.
Those names were like little firecrackers going off in the back of her brain. She’d heard of them while she was tooling around on the net. But it was the question that always lingered in her mind. The question that she longed to obtain the answers.
“What is The Matrix?”
Elain couldn’t stop the gasp from leaving her lips even if she’d wanted to. How could he have known that was the question she was wanting to know the answer to? He smiled, canting his head slightly as he looked at her.
“I know that look. It’s the same look I had on my face once.”
He reached out to grab one of her hands and she didn’t try to resist. Turning her hand over, he placed something inside her palm. When she looked back at her hand, there were two gelatin capsules in her hand. One red, the other blue. Her brows furrowed and she looked back to Cobra, his face calm and reassuring.
“Hitomi,” he said, causing tears to form in her eyes, “you have a choice to make right now. Even though I already know what choice you’re going to make, I still want to give you the option to bail out.” He pointed to her hand. “The red pill will lead you down the path that will answer all of your questions. But it will also give birth to more questions, some of which you may never find the answers for. The blue pill will make you forget everything prior to the moment I walked into your life. You won’t even have the questions inside of you anymore.”
Crow approached Cobra, handing him a glass of water. He held it out to Elain, to which she absentmindedly took it.
He knew so much and she seemed to know so little. Would she really be okay never knowing the truth? Would she be okay returning to a life of blissful ignorance?
Elain dropped the blue pill onto the ground, tossing the red pill into her mouth and draining the glass of water. Within seconds, both Crow and Ares were moving around her. They were pushing her onto a nearby couch and panic snaked up her throat as she was forced to lay down. Pressing a variety of sticky pads to her skin and temples, she noticed the monitoring devices and felt her panic growing. Cobra pressed his palm along her forehead, feeling his cool palm easing the inflamed feeling flushing out across her skin.
For a moment, she forgot about her fears and all the movement going on around her. The onset of hysteria was briefly beaten back by Cobra’s almost serene expression. Her eyelids grew a little heavy as he stroked his thumb along the space between her eyebrows.
“I’ll see you soon, Hitomi…”
Hitomi nodded, her eyes lifting to stare mindlessly at the ceiling. She took a deep breath, blinked twice, and watched the world dissolve into darkness - the space replaced with lines of green code. She felt a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
And then it all went dark again.
“Welcome to the Real World.”
arte factum | pjm
After your ex-husband is found dead in his house, you’re burdened with the well-being of his latest invention, a good-looking, polite android who seems to have a peculiar interest in you.
Word count: 17k
Warnings: smut, somnophilia, obsessive behaviour, suicide, mentions of domestic and psicological abuse.
# Artifical Intelligence AU, horror, sci-fi, sub!Jimin, dom!female reader, yandere!android Jimin, vouyerism, he uses one of her panties to jerk off 😭, ma’am/Master kink, homeboy just doesn’t handle well seeing her naked, creampie, ‘unprotected’ vaginal sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), nipple play, overstimulation, fingering, horny groping, he needs to chill, face-fucking him with her fingers? idk.
A/N: lots of plot, read with caution. I don’t really know what else to say. Just, hm, enjoy the filth? Sub!yanderes are probably one of my lowest fantasies 😗✌️
Read this story listening to its own Spotify playlist.
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