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Fragmentation 0.4 - KTH
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: 2,204
AN: And here we have Taehyung with his brother, Namjoon, in the Real World in Zion. 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.
“Big Brother,” Taehyung called, watching his brother, Namjoon, halt in his steps to look back at him, “are we going to be separated?”
A look he couldn’t place spread over his brother’s face. Taehyung surmised that it wasn’t anything good. He bit his lower lip, fighting back the urge to cry. His eyes lowered to the metal flooring of their home. Sucking in air through his teeth, he closed his eyes to keep the tears from spilling out. A sudden weight fell on the top of his head, causing him to look up as he met Namjoon’s gaze.
His expression was softer now.
“It won’t be for long,” he reassured, rubbing Taehyung’s hair comfortingly, “and we’ll be seeing each other again before you know it.”
Taehyung’s lips trembled slightly, forming into a small smile. He knew his brother was doing his best to ease the wave of anxiety threatening to overtake him. But there was a part of him that worried about so many terrible things happening before they could reunite. There were rumors that some failed the training program outright. Others died from the heavy mental and physical strain placed on their persons.
Maybe it was the child-like optimism he had, but Taehyung knew that his brother wouldn’t fail. He wouldn’t either.
Their mother worked tirelessly in the kitchen, trying to put some semblance of a meal together for them. She knew she wouldn’t be seeing her children for several years; not until they finished their training programs. Namjoon would head down the path of an Operator, the same occupation their father had before he died. The Elders of Zion said that their father was a hero, but Taehyung knew they were just being nice.
He died before he could activate the ship’s EMP, butchered by Sentinels that destroyed the ship his father was a crew member of.
No matter what, he would find a way to be with his brother. To make sure nothing like that happened. To do so, he had to pick a different goal. Taehyung would become a pilot.
“Taehyung! Namjoon! It’s dinner time!”
They both turned in the direction of the kitchen, Namjoon gently urging Taehyung to head out first. He didn’t have to look behind him to know that his brother was following closely. When they reached the kitchen, they saw a spread fit for an important guest and couldn’t help but eyeball it with obvious fascination. There was no way that they’d finish this in a single night.
“Mom,” Namjoon said as she set metal cups filled with water next to each plate, “this is too much…”
Taehyung scrambled into his chair, resisting the urge to dive into the bread, cured meats and dried fruits. He could feel his mouth watering already. “This looks awesome!”
Their mother smiled, reaching out to pat their heads. “Nothing less for my brave boys,” she said, the pride clear in her voice, “you need to eat well to do well.”
They both nodded, digging into the food heartily. Between laughter and light conversation, it felt like just a normal day in the Kim household. But they knew it wouldn’t be like this for a long time. Taehyung remembered his brother telling him that the coming days of spoiled bliss leading up to their departure was for their mother more than it was for them. They only needed to do their part and allow her to bask in these simple gifts.
“Have you boys picked your names yet?”
“Spectre,” Namjoon replied as he bit into a slice of apple, “just like Dad.”
Taehyung watched as their mother’s smile fell a little, but then it returned even bigger than earlier. Her eyes took on a watery sheen and she reached out to wrap her arms around Namjoon. A soft blush crowned Namjoon’s cheeks and he cupped his mother’s elbow. Taehyung looked away to stare at the bread and dried fruit on his plate. The truth was that he hadn’t even thought of what name he would use. He always assumed one would be given to him.
“And you, Taehyung?” He looked up, meeting his mother’s gaze. “What name have you chosen?”
He felt like he was going to be swallowed up by his mother’s deep hazel eyes. There was a time when those same soft eyes were hard like a rock’s; the eyes of a person who looked Death in the face and told him “Not today”. She did it without fear.
He smiled. “Edge.”
His mother blinked, her lips parting slightly. “But Taehyung, that’s--”
“I know.” His smile grew wider. “That was your name.”
Looking across the table at his brother, he saw the smile creeping around the corners of Namjoon’s mouth. His chest filled with warmth at knowing that his brother approved of the name choice. Their mother let go of her alias a long time ago. They remembered their father telling them once that she was thinking about giving it all up when she became pregnant with Namjoon. Stepping down from the role of Captain of her APU squadron, their mother focused fully on raising her children when she gave birth to Taehyung a year later.
Actual tears streamed down her face and she stood up, leaning over Taehyung and pulling him closely into her chest. She cradled the back of his head, stroking through his dark hair, and it wasn’t long before Namjoon was also hugging him from the other side. Taehyung lifted his arms so he could pull them in even closer to him.
“No matter what happens, I want you both to know that I am so proud of you.” Both Taehyung and Namjoon looked into their mother’s tear-stained face. “And I know that your father would be too.”
Seven Years Later
“EDGE! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!”
A devious smirk slid over Edge’s features as the ship rattled and clanked around them. “Hold on to your lunch, Captain!”
His eyes zeroed in on the terrain of cables, pipes, and junk that managed to pile up over the years in the tunnel system. Veins of electricity flared out in either direction and he gripped harder on the flight controls. He quickly swiped his fingers over the control panel in front of him, redirecting power to the hover pads at the ship’s stern.
The ship dipped quickly, falling several hundred feet. Edge didn’t bother stopping the laugh as his co-pilot made a retching noise from the sudden shift in their gravity.
“Forty-five percent to starboard bow,” he said through his laughter.
Again, his co-pilot gagged behind his hand. “F-Forty-five percent to...to starboard…”
“Bow!”
“B-Bow!”
Edge jerked the flight controls to the left, swerving the hovercraft hard as they rounded a sharp corner. Metal groaned in protest and people were swearing at the top of their lungs. Others were cheering in the artillery section of the ship.
“Fifteen percent to port bow!”
“F-F-Fifteen percent...oh, God.” The gagging was soon followed by actual vomiting. Something wet hit the floor, but Edge remained focused on the path in front of him.
“Stagger! Port bow!”
“Y-Yes Sir! Fifteen to port bow, Sir!”
Again, Edge yanked at the flight controls. The ship screamed as electric pulses erupted around the left side of the ship just as they made a right turn. In four hundred feet, they would hit another drop and would be able to bee-line it straight for Zion’s main gate.
“Come on, baby,” he whispered, his eyes darting in every direction as he pushed the engines further, “we’re almost there!”
“SLOW IT DOWN, EDGE!”
Edge chuckled, pushing the controls harder. Sweat slid down his neck and shoulders. “Aw, don’t be like that, Cap.” He quickly mashed several more key commands on the console in front of him. “You know that she doesn’t like it when you speak to her that way.”
“THIS ISN’T A GODDAMN RACE!”
“I beg to differ, Sir. It’s always a race!” Reaching over, he smacked Stagger’s shoulder to get him back into focus. “Eighty-three percent to the ship’s bow!”
Stagger wiped at the mess around his mouth and gave a determined nod. “Aye, Sir! Eighty-three to bow!”
“EDGE!”
“Careful, Sir! You’ll bite your tongue!”
The front of the ship lit up with bright blue and white spider veins of electricity just as he pushed the stern of the vessel back. He called it his “leap frog” technique, allowing him a single opportunity to bounce the ship just before reaching a drop to give it extra momentum. It was slightly taxing on the ship’s hull, but reduced the power needed to launch it forward - utilizing gravity more than the reserves on the ship.
It wasn’t a fan favorite.
Metal things clanked around throughout the ship as he spun the ship into descent. More crew members hooped and hollered their approval. There was a good chance that his captain would refer Edge to recycling - deciding that he needed to start the training program over from the beginning. But if he could beat his previous record return time, then it might have been worth it.
Electric waves sprayed in various directions as the hovercraft pillowed down at the base. Edge let his shoulders relax and he sank back in his chair as the main gates to Zion were in clear view. Rushed footsteps thundered from the back and he braced himself for the screaming onslaught that was sure to come.
“God fucking dammit, Edge,” screamed Captain Halo into his ear, causing Edge to laugh and wince simultaneously, “you’re going to get us all killed one of these days!”
He shrugged one shoulder, poking one finger into his ear just as an incoming transmission reached their communications panel. “This is The Hierophant requesting permission to enter Zion.”
“Access codes required for entry.”
Edge leaned back in the chair, giving Captain Halo time to enter the access codes. Once entered, they waited for the confirmation beep.
“Thank you. Welcome home Hierophant. You are cleared for Dock Seven.”
“Roger that. Moving to Dock Seven.” Edge set the controls to auto-pilot, allowing for the hovercraft to coast through the main gate. He stretched his arms high over his head, popping the tension from his spine. “It’s good to be back.”
The rest of the Hierophant’s crew quickly gathered their belongings, all of them excited for the results of their final exams. The ship secured its landing gears on the dock, shaking the entire vessel. After the cabin was de-pressurized, the electronic ramp disengaged on the landing pad. The door slid open, allowing everyone to disembark.
Edge lingered in the pilot’s seat a little while longer, his fingers undoing the straps from around his chest.
Stagger unstrapped himself from the co-pilot seat, sidling over the opposite side from where he’d thrown up. “You’re not coming?”
“I’ll be out in a minute,” Edge replied as he met Stagger’s gaze, “I want to say goodbye properly.”
“Whatever.” Stagger smirked, reaching out to clasp a hand on Edge’s shoulder. “You’re one crazy sonuva bitch, Edge. But you’re also one helluva pilot.” The two of them shared a smile. “I’m gonna miss ya.”
“It’s been real.”
The both punched fists before parting ways. Captain Halo shuffled up beside him after watching the other trainees exit the ship. Edge hissed when he felt a smack to the back of his head, rubbing it gingerly. Not that it actually hurt, but he was a showboat in various ways.
“If you weren’t such a skilled pilot, I’d request that the Admiral kick you out of the program entirely.”
Edge flashed his trademark boxy smile at him. “Awe, c’mon Cap. Don’t be that way. You know I’m better suited to fly.” His expression softened some. “I’ll always get my crew home. No matter what.”
“I don’t expect anything less. Heroism is great, but real heroes remember what’s truly important.” Captain Halo sighed, placing a hand on top of Edge’s head. “You’ll do more good being alive than getting yourself killed. Remember that.”
Smirking, he saluted his Captain - the main he admired and served under in the program for the last three years. “I won’t forget, Sir.”
The Captain reached into his pocket and pulled out a small mini disc. “Take this to Central Command. They’ll award you your wings.”
Edge stared at the disc in amazement, but before taking it, he stood to his feet and gave his Captain a proper salute. “Sir, yes Sir.”
He took the disc, slid it into his pocket, and saluted the Captain again who, in turn, saluted him as well.
“Make your crew proud, Soldier.”
Captain Halo took his leave, allowing Edge to bask in the good news. He was a full-fledged pilot now. The only thing he had to wait on was his next assignment. He’d had a good run with The Hierophant, but training was over. His next ship would be the ship that he would pilot until the end of his days. The crew would be his lifelong friends and partners.
Reaching one hand out, he stroked the flight controls affectionately as his vision blurred from oncoming tears. He smiled, laughing slightly as a warm feeling spread across his chest.
“...see ya ‘round, Hierophant. Be good to the next one, alright?”
Fragmentation 0.4 - KTH
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: 2,204
AN: And here we have Taehyung with his brother, Namjoon, in the Real World in Zion. 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.
Keep reading
Fragmentation 5.0 - KNJ
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: 2,269
AN: Now we get Namjoon’s perspective. YAY. Also in the Real World in Zion. 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.
“Oh look,” a voice said suddenly, “it’s the prodigy.”
Namjoon sighed as he continued typing away on one of the system computers. For the last three years, he lived in Zion’s control tower. It was where all the trainees went who hoped to become Operators for a ship. In less than a year of his boarding, Namjoon showed excellent marks in reaction time as well as hacking prowess. It was no secret that he was far ahead of the rest of his class and there were rumors that he would graduate in the next year if he continued to excel in every area of expertise they could throw at him.
That didn’t make him very popular with his peers. Then again, it wasn’t like he actually cared. They all had a common goal and as long as that remained true, then they only needed to focus on doing their jobs.
Who cared if it was some popularity contest?
“Wait guys. You know he hates that title. We have to call him by his alias, remember?”
The tone was snide and insincere. Again, Namjoon didn’t care. He had other things he needed to devote his attention to. Rumor was that he would be boarding a ship soon to help with a simple reconnaissance mission. Nothing too overly complicated, but he wasn’t about to turn his nose up to the task. The lives of Matrix Operatives were in his hands and that was a responsibility that no one should ever take lightly.
So he continued to tune out his fellow classmates, focusing his energy on the program he was creating. It was a training program that would be used in the Construct - an exercise to help hone the sensory perceptions of operatives so that Agents wouldn’t be able to get the jump on them. When Agents obtained a target, they were relentless in their pursuit until an Operator was able to get them out. Namjoon wanted to prevent such tragedies from ever taking place. What better way than to prepare the operatives in any way possible?
He received word from his mother that Taehyung would be boarding a hovercraft next year. To successfully become a pilot, a trainee needed to physically handle the controls for years. Namjoon barely saw his brother due to his own hacker training, but it was guaranteed that they would not cross paths for several more years once Taehyung boarded a vessel.
Namjoon felt a hand on his shoulder, but he continued typing away at his station.
“Don’t listen to them,” said Vermillion, giving Namjoon a gentle shake.
“I don’t,” he replied, his eyes narrowing at the line of code he was reworking, “I always tune them out.”
“Typical. That’s just like you, Spectre.” Vermillion chuckled, sliding into the chair beside him. She peered over his shoulder as he continued working. “That looks pretty advanced. I can’t wait to see it when it’s finished.”
Pressing several more keys, Namjoon saved his progress and closed out the command console. Everything was transferred to the mini disc that slid out from a tray on the main hub. He popped it into a small case and shoved it into his pocket.
“It’ll take a few more weeks before I’m satisfied.”
Namjoon stood from his chair, grabbed his bag, and made for the exit. He didn’t have to look to know that Vermillion was hot on his heels. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her, but he’d come to be a very solitary person. He rarely saw his mother and there was a good chance that he wouldn’t see his brother for several years. Not until they were both finished with their respective Training Programs.
“You’re not going to report to the Head Programmer of your progress for the day?”
He smirked. “He already knows.” Turning to look at her, he continued walking. “I was told to help out at the Command Tower for a few hours.”
Vermillion’s eyes widened. “Wow. Forreal?”
He nodded and they continued walking through the various metal corridors. The shocked look on her face was well-placed. Most people didn’t get to work at the Command Tower during training because there was a high risk of something failing because of an amateur mistake. The fact that their teacher cleared him for work at the Command Tower was another testament to Namjoon’s skill level.
They reached the elevator for the Command Tower. Namjoon’s hand hesitated over the button as he looked at Vermillion. She seemed to want to say something else to him, so he waited. But after a handful of minutes of silence, he sighed and pressed the button to call the lift.
“Well, I’ll be seein’ you,” he said as he readjusted his bag’s strap along his shoulder.
The metal doors groaned as they slid open, granting him access. He stepped onto the lift and just before the doors closed, he saw Vermillion’s smile as she waved at him.
“Do well, Spectre.”
He flashed an easy grin in her direction. But once the doors were closed, the smile fell off his face immediately. Namjoon didn’t have any time to waste. There was a chance the war could be over in his lifetime. It waged on for damn near a century already. The people of Zion, human-born and field-born alike, were all tired of this seemingly never ending conflict. His parents saw the brunt of it during the beginning phases - children when their parents were fighting for their freedom.
Namjoon didn’t want to pass this burden on to his children.
To keep that from happening, he would work himself into the ground. Until there wasn’t a single breath left in his mortal body.
Four Years Later
Spectre pulled out his mini computer, booting it up to look over the dossier files of the ship he was newly assigned to. He was originally slated for Operator duty the previous year, but he opted out of it. His brother, Edge, hadn’t returned from his training tour yet. The benefit of finishing at the top of his peer group was that Spectre got to pick and choose a few things here and there.
Namely when he would be boarding a ship.
He quipped a brow at the list of crewmates on his future ship. There were some impressive resumes on the vessel. Certainly nothing he could turn his nose up at. The Admiral must have had a hand in the assignments and there was clearly a reason why Spectre was placed with that particular group. Based on the skill records of everyone on board, save for the pilot, they all had more than one year of field experience that wasn’t “on the job training”.
The Captain and First Mate in particular.
His eyes scanned over the pilot’s name and he couldn’t help the smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth. Spectre had all the faith in the world that his brother would make it through the Training Program, but he hadn’t expected to see his name on a crew member manifest just days after his ship docked back home.
“Yo, Big Bro!”
Spectre lowered the mini computer to his side, lifting his gaze up to see his younger brother strolling up the long metal walkway toward him. He closed the computer, slid it into his pocket, and waved to Edge. His little brother wasted no time closing the distance between them, taking off in a dead run and barrelling into him. Spectre grunted when he felt Edge’s shoulder crashing into his chest, his arms encircling around his waist. He laughed as Edge lifted him up off the ground.
“Hey,” Spectre said, patting his younger brother’s head, “a little over the top, don’t you think?”
Edge set him down, placing a fist on his hip. “Are you kiddin’ me?” He pouted. “I haven’t seen you in years. I should be setting off fireworks.”
Lifting a basket off the ground and handing it to Edge, Spectre shook his head. “Yeah, don’t do that. We’ll get court-martialed.”
Edge’s heavy steps reverberated off the metal flooring. “It would totally be worth it, though.”
“It wouldn’t, actually, but whatever.”
The brothers shared a smirk with each other.
It didn’t take them long to reach their house. The door was already open just as they saw their mother stepping out. She carried a basket of linens in her hands - presumably to go do laundry at the water recycling plant. The minute her eyes shifted in their direction, however, she seemed frozen in place. They took a few more steps toward her, watching as she dropped the basket at her feet. The dirty clothes and bedding would remain ignored. They already knew what mattered most to their mother.
“You’re back,” she finally managed, her hands trembling as she reached for them, “I knew you’d both come back home together.”
The two brothers filled their arms with their mother - holding her closer than they believed was possible. Her smell hadn’t changed and the strength in her embrace was just as they remembered it when they were children. She openly sobbed against each of their faces, overwhelmed with how much they’d changed. Yet they remained the same. They were men now, but the brothers knew that they would always be her little boys.
Her pride and glory.
After what seemed like too short a moment, their mother pried herself from them. “You two must be starving,” she said, turning to usher them into the house, “I’ll see about gathering some rations for dinner.”
Spectre leaned down to pick up the discarded laundry basket. “You don’t have to do that, Mother,” he offered, but he could tell that she would not be hearing any of it.
“Go inside and unpack your things. I’ll be back!”
They both sighed in unison as they watched their mother dart off down the metal walkway and across the bridge. Spectre turned to Edge and they both shrugged, making their way inside the home they hadn’t been in for several years. Lucky for them, nothing had really changed.
Spectre poured himself a cup of water, handing it to Edge and then poured another. “Have you gotten your assignment yet?”
Edge smirked as he pressed the metal cup to his lips. “Of course I have.” He gulped down half the water and set it down on the metal counter. “I’m stoked as fuck that I’m going to be piloting the ship you’re the Operator of.”
“That’s it?” Spectre lofted a brow at his younger brother. “Nothing else?”
“I mean, not really.” Edge shrugged. “I don’t know much about the others. I’m just glad I’m with you.”
Chuckling, he shook his head. He should have known that his brother would still continue to be simple-minded, even after all of these years. It didn’t come to him as a surprise; not really. In a way, it was almost relieving to know that his brother remained wholly the same - even after the intensity of the Training Programs.
“Did you get a chance to look at the ship?”
Edge whistled, sailing his hand out across his body in a dramatic flourish. “Bro, let me tell you…” He leaned sideways, bumping his shoulder against Spectre’s. “Just thinking about flying that ship is giving me a hard-on like you wouldn’t believe!”
He rolled his eyes, lightly elbowing his younger brother’s side. “Seriously? Come on.”
“I’m dead-ass serious, Bro. Like, holy shit, the Amaterasu is one sexy fuckin’ vessel.” Spectre watched a gleam sparkle in his younger brother’s eyes as he spoke. “She’s the newest hovercraft in the fleet and that baby was made for speed and destruction. I bet she could make it to The Fields and back before a Sentinel could even detect what actually happened.”
Spectre quipped a brow. “New stealth tech?”
He watched his brother nod emphatically. “Oh yeah, and then some.” He clapped his hands together. “I can’t wait to test that beauty out.”
Pulling out his computer, he looked over the ship’s diagnostics. There was some serious hardware put into the hovercraft. If the deployment of the Amaterasu was successful, the engineering crew would work on replicating the ship’s schematics for future hovercrafts. As exciting as that prospect was, Spectre couldn’t help but frown a little.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the Amaterasu was a guinea pig ship. This would be the first time the crew would work together as a collective. Some were still fairly young, their minds “freed” but needing more time to mature. There was also the chance that they would all clash when it came to their personalities and work flow.
He barely got the sigh out of him before Edge wrapped an arm around his shoulder to pull him in close. “Hey, c’mon, Spectre! This is what we went through all that training for, right?” Edge winked at him. “Everything’ll be fine. Every single member of the crew is the best of the best of the best, right?”
Spectre nodded. “Yeah…”
“So there’s nothing to worry about. We’re going to be the talk of the entire fleet. Everyone in Zion is going to know our ship.” Edge laughed, causing Spectre to grin; his enthusiasm was infectious. “We’ll do great things, Bro. I know we will.”
Spectre ruffled his little brother’s hair. It brought him an overwhelming amount of relief to know that his younger brother had, in fact, barely changed at all. In a time where their future was bleak and uncertain, pure optimism was necessary. Hope was needed.
And he would do whatever he needed to do in order to ensure that that hope never died.
Fragmentation 5.0 - KNJ
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: 2,269
AN: Now we get Namjoon’s perspective. YAY. Also in the Real World in Zion. 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.
Keep reading
Fragmentation 0.7 - KSJ
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: 2,096
AN: On to Seokjin’s origin story of how he left The Matrix. I actually took inspiration from the animated short, Beyond, from The Animatrix. I always found it super fascinating that certain parts of The Matrix, much like a computer, experiences “glitches” from time to time. Especially in the earlier incarnations of it. 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 0.8
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 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.”