Defragmentation Bts - Tumblr Posts
Preface Year: Unknown (Presumed 1999) Location: Mega City (Metro City)
There have been whispers of The One’s return. No one knows when or how long it would take. The War with the Machines has raged on for nearly a hundred years and the hope for the Human Race begins to dwindle with each passing year. The Matrix is in its Third Incarnation - the birth of the Modern Era. The Oracle, created to unbalance the work of The Architect, has offered to help build The Matrix where it would be accepted, versus being rejected. But there is always something about 1% and that 1% has given birth to The One, once again. The One is still sleeping, waiting for the day when they will wake up to bring an end to the Machine War.
This is the tale of The Third One.
Fandom: BTS Fandom Work: “Defragmentation” by Admin E of The Bias Rekkers Origin stories set to come soon!
Fragmentation 0.1 - JHS
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 | romance
Pairing: N/A
Warnings: Strong language, allusions of suicide, extreme angst, graphic violence
Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]
Word Count: 2,008
AN: It’s finally here! I know that I am still in the process of updating Make It Right, but I have been dying to get this series off the ground. Especially since no one in the fandom has written in this Universe from what I can see. So I’m super excited to share this with you all. This is the prequel to my upcoming series, Defragmentation, which showcases everyone’s origin stories and how they managed to escape from The Matrix. Because this universe is so extensive, I strongly suggest that people utilize the official Matrix Wiki as a reference point because there will be much in this world that I will not go into in-depth explanations for. Again, if anyone would like to be added to the tag list, please feel free to message us!
Tag List: @aroseforyoongi, @prisczero, @pinkpjmin, @btsaudge (I’m adding you because I purple you; don’t @ me)
© 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 0.2 - PJM
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: 3,068
AN: Alright guys, get ready for these to hit the timeline back to back! I hope you’re ready! I thoroughly enjoyed writing these and yes, because it’s The Matrix, we are going to get dark in this piece. As I stated before, 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.
“Jimin! Aren’t you coming?”
Jimin casually glanced over his shoulder, readjusting the strap to his backpack in a more comfortable position. A few of his classmates waved to him, urging him to come along. They were finished with their studies for the day and didn’t have any after school activities that required their attention. Normally, they would head to the arcade to mindlessly spend the quarters weighing their pockets down.
He smiled, shaking his head and waving back at them. “No, you guys go on ahead. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
His friends pouted, canting their heads slightly before shrugging. They laughed as they turned to head down the street, all of them declaring loudly how they were going to beat the other into submission in a round of Street Fighter.
Sighing, Jimin pushed his way through the crowd to head to the local library. The internet was faster there and he could focus on what he wanted to work on in peace and quiet. Stopping at a vending machine on the way, he bought a few drinks and some snacks to tide him over until he was forced to stop working due to needing sleep.
It wasn’t like there was anyone waiting for him at home anyway.
Hopping up the stone steps, he entered through the front door and smiled at the library clerk. She was a pretty woman - at least pretty in terms of being an old lady. Late fifties to early sixties at best, he could guess. Jimin never told her his name, however, but she didn’t mind. She always referred to him as “Young Man” and he answered readily with a smile.
“Research again, Young Man?” she asked, holding out a book for him.
Jimin took the item from her, already knowing that she wanted him to put it back where it was supposed to go. He smiled. “Yes ma’am.” He eyed the cover. “Ching Dynasty in the History section, right?”
The old lady beamed at him. “Correct. You’re such a good lad.”
“I try,” he said with a laugh.
“Well, don’t work too hard. I know you’ve been focusing very hard on your project these last few weeks, but you’re young and shouldn’t strain your eyes so much.”
Jimin bowed his head slightly. “I won’t. Thank you.”
He quickly maneuvered around the library, locating the history section and replaced the book. He always had a knack of finding things and Jimin just knew when things were out of place. His teachers called it a “gift” but he had a feeling that it was something else entirely. He just couldn’t place it. Not yet, at least.
Making his way toward the back of the library, he reached a few taupe colored desks nestled in a small nook in the corner. He threw his backpack on top of the shelf portion, unzipping the top and rifling around inside. He pulled out two mini discs and one floppy disc. Reaching further into the pack, his fingers wrapped around the mini computer and the wires needed to make the device work. He wasted no time booting up the computer, setting up the small computer beside the motherboard and plugging things in.
It only took him a few minutes to go through various checks to make sure that his connection was secure. Then he pulled up a few console windows, his fingers typing swiftly over the keys.
???:
He couldn’t describe the wave of relief that hit him when he saw his chat partner beginning the conversation. Lately Jimin had to be the one to initiate the chat, hoping that he reached them.
Cobra:
Jimin felt a bead of sweat forming on the bridge of his nose. He knew that this could possibly chase them away. But there was a chance that it wouldn’t. And the information his friend gave him was too profound to ignore.
???:
Cobra:
???:
Cobra:
???:
It was now or never. Jimin felt like if he didn’t take advantage of this opportunity now, he would never get another one. His chance to obtain the answers to his questions would slip through his fingers like sand. He wouldn’t be able to recover it fast enough.
Cobra:
???:
Cobra:
???:
Blinking at the screen, Jimin reached under the desk and began patting around the surface beneath. His thumb brushed up against something. Curling his fingers around it, he pulled it free - the distinct sound of velcro separating shockingly loud in the quiet confines of his corner. Jimin inspected it, not sure what to make of the item his friend left for him. It was no bigger than a pack of cigarettes, but the container was made of metal.
When did they prepare this?
Though the more pressing question was how did they know he would be sitting at that particular desk on that particular day?
Just how close was his friend?
Jimin couldn’t stop the cold shiver from snaking up his back. He was nervous, but excited. Something was wrong with him.
Cobra:
???:
He watched his friend go offline, leaving him alone. He could sense that there wasn’t much time. Jimin quickly logged off, turned off the computer and haphazardly threw all of his things into his bag. Stuffing the small metal container into his inner jacket pocket, he slung the backpack over his shoulder and made his way to the entrance of the stairs.
The library building was tall - at least thirty stories. Jimin climbed them all. He wasn’t sure if it was nerves hammering around inside of his chest or the adrenaline of excitement rushing his footsteps, but he didn’t care. After months of secret conversations, he was finally going to learn something. He would release the pressure at the back of his brain, telling him that something was wrong with the world that he lived in.
Bursting through the rooftop access door, Jimin was greeted with a swift burst of cold air. The sun had long since set. He didn’t remember being in the library for very long. Was it already that late?
Jimin sensed a flash of movement from his right, his body reacting faster than his mind could process. Leaning back, he dodged a fist that was aimed for the side of his head. Pivoting on his heels, he spun out of reach just as another fist shot out - hoping to strike true.
“Hey!” he yelled, stumbling back a few paces. “What’s the big idea?!”
Standing in front of him was a man no taller than him - Asian in origin, though he could only guess that he was of Chinese descent based on his clothing choice. He wore an off white changsan, a black fitted shirt underneath, and long wide leg pants. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses - the lenses small and round. His hair was cut short - military-style buzz cut. The man was clearly skilled in martial arts.
Jimin watched him smile and this only caused his irritation to mount further. Hadn’t his friend told him that he could trust the person he was meeting on the roof? Was this all a setup?
The man lowered his stance, placing a palm over one fist and bowing his head. After a few seconds, Jimin bowed his head also, but maintained eye contact with him. The man continued to smile at him.
“You have very good reflexes for one so young,” he complimented.
Jimin shrugged. “I guess so.”
“You move like a cobra.” He lowered his arms down to his sides. “I am Seraph. I will guide you to The Oracle.”
“The Oracle?” Jimin couldn’t hide the confused expression on his face. He’d heard rumors online about someone with that moniker, but he figured it was just some myth circulating through the dark net. “I’m...meeting The Oracle.”
Seraph nodded, fishing into his pocket as he approached the roof access door. “Yes. She has much to discuss with you. But we must hurry.” He pulled out a small ring of keys, sliding one of them into the lock. “We don’t have much time.”
Before Jimin could question Seraph’s sanity, he watched the man open the door. But instead of a set of stairs, he could see a back alley in its place. His lips parted, unable to properly fathom what he’d just seen. The moisture left his mouth and a throbbing pain began drilling into the back of his head. Seraph was instantly at his side, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
“You have to remain calm. Take a few deep breaths.”
He felt like he was choking. “W-What is going on?”
“Breathe, Cobra. If your mental acuity spikes too much, they will be able to locate us.”
“T-They?”
“We need to go. Now.”
It was painful for him to nod, but Seraph helped him toward the door. Once inside the alley, he watched Seraph closing the door and locking it behind them. The street lights flickered sporadically, serving as a guide through the darkness. If Seraph was speaking to him, which he doubted, he didn’t think he would be able to hear him over the thunder of his own heartbeat.
Jimin didn’t remember seeing Seraph unlocking another door, or the two more after that, but he was jolted to a sudden halt when they stood in front of a bright red door. It looked like the kind of door that belonged to a quaint house in the suburbs. The kind of house a normal, loving family would have attached to their single family home.
Seraph motioned for Jimin to open it, as this door was not locked. Or, at least, he could only assume that it wasn’t since he hadn’t seen Seraph pulling out a key from his key ring. He grabbed for the brass handle and turned the knob, pushing the door open and stepping over the threshold.
There was a sweet aroma hovering in the air, making Jimin’s mouth water instantly. In all of the controlled chaos, he’d forgotten to eat. The soft tones of jazz came from a radio in the kitchen. He followed the sounds and stopped at the entrance.
Standing by the stove was a woman who looked to be in her mid to late fifties. She was a little heavier built, but her curves were defined and lovely in a sweet sort of way. Her back was to him, but through her dark curls he saw strands of gray peppered throughout. Smoke billowed from an ashtray nearby where an abandoned cigarette rested against one of the center notches.
“Um,” he finally managed, taking a step forward, “excuse me?”
“Just a minute,” said the woman, her voice hauntingly familiar, “they’re almost finished. You might want to have a seat.”
Jimin reigned his curiosity back as he watched the woman lean over to pull a tray of cookies out of the oven. Heat rushed through the kitchen from the stove, warming him from the inside out. She set the tray down on the counter, giving the pastries a chance to cool. As she wiped her hands on her apron, she turned to look at Jimin and he immediately lost his balance. He blindly reached for the nearest chair, collapsing into it.
“It...It’s you,” he stammered, looking at the woman he’d come to know as the kind library clerk, “but how?”
The woman smiled, reaching for her cigarette. She took a drag, exhaling smoke from her nostrils. “I told you to have a seat.”
His eyes shook, darting in every direction before landing back on her. None of this made any sense. Jimin’s gaze moved to the floor as he tried to calm his breathing, placing a hand on his chest in an almost vain attempt to settle his rattled nerves. He watched the woman’s shadow move closer to him until she, too, was sitting across from him. When he looked up, the older woman was holding out a plate to him - a single cookie placed in the center.
“Here. I know you’re probably hungry. This will tide you over until dinner is finished.”
He unconsciously took the cookie off the plate, but he was unsure of whether to eat it or not. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust it was safe to eat. He wasn’t sure he would be able to keep it down.
She set a glass of water in front of him. “Now listen to me, Cobra. We don’t have a whole lot of time. I’m sure you’re just as aware of that fact as I am.”
Jimin reached a trembling hand toward the glass. “Are you really The Oracle?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” The Oracle chuckled as she tapped a bit of ash off into the tray. “So many questions and yet I knew that would be the first one you’d ask.”
He drained half the glass in a single gulp. “Something is happening to me.”
“Yes, it is.” She pressed the cigarette to her lips. “It’s been happening for a while now.”
“Are you responsible for it?”
“No, Cobra.” The Oracle blew smoke out of her mouth. “You are.”
“What?”
“Did you bring the package with you?”
Jimin frowned. “If you’re The Oracle, shouldn’t you know that answer already?”
Again, she chuckled. “I do. I’m asking more for your sake than my own. You look ready to pop.”
His fingers moved from the glass and toward his pocket. He pulled out the small metal case and placed it on the table between them. Instead of reaching for it, however, The Oracle gestured toward him.
“Go on. Open it.”
Jimin opened the box, unsure of what he was actually looking at. Inside were what appeared to be two gel caplets. One red, the other blue. A bead of sweat slid down from his temple to his chin, dripping onto the top of his shoe. He slowly lifted his face to look at The Oracle who still had a calm expression painted over her features.
“Like I said earlier, Cobra, we don’t have a lot of time. I can only apologize for taking so long to close the distance between us. If I’d been faster, then we wouldn’t be rushing now.”
“Rushing for what?”
“To give you the answers you so desperately seek.” She crushed the ember of her cigarette out into the tray. “You have a choice to make. Right now. If you still want to know the truth about everything, about why you feel like the world around you doesn’t make sense, or why you feel so isolated in it, then take the red pill and seek the answers out for yourself.”
“And how am I supposed to do that?” Tears welled up at the corners of his eyes. “How am I supposed to do that alone?”
The Oracle reached out a hand to cup his cheek. Her touch was warm; comforting. It helped relax his already fraying nerves. Her thumb stroked over the corner of his eye, wiping the tear away. “Oh, honey, you won’t be alone.” She looked every bit like a mother comforting a scared child in that instant. “But I won’t lie to you, the truth is going to be hard to swallow. Harder than that pill. You’ll probably hate me after you find out the truth. If you feel you won’t be able to handle any of that, then take the blue pill. You’ll forget all about me and what you’ve seen the very minute you step out that door.”
She removed her hand from his cheek, making him very aware of how cold the world seemed at the absence of her touch. Jimin eyed the pills in the box. What did he have to lose by taking the red pill and finding out the truth? His life here was meaningless - just an endless sequence of purposeless days bleeding into purposeless weeks, meshing into equally purposeless months until years with no purpose marched on.
Plucking the red pill from the foam cushion in the box, he popped it into his mouth without hesitation. He grabbed the glass of water and gulped down what remained, swallowing it.
The Oracle suddenly grabbed Jimin’s hand just as he set the glass back down on the table. “Listen to me very carefully, Cobra. I need you to remember what I tell you when you wake up.”
“W-What do you mean?” Jimin’s vision began to swim momentarily. His auditory senses almost seemed heightened at that moment and he heard several heavy footsteps approaching from the living room.
“You are going to find The One. That is the path that you have chosen for yourself.” The Oracle pressed both of her hands on either side of his face. “Believe in that path. When you discover the truth, you will come to understand the meaning behind my words.”
“Oracle, please,” Jimin managed to choke out, “I don’t understand…”
He saw several shadows circling him and different voices began talking all at once.
“We’ve almost narrowed down his location,” said a man to his right, “we need just a few more seconds.”
Jimin gripped onto the woman’s arms in desperation. “I’m scared!”
“It’s okay to be scared. That’s normal, I promise.” The Oracle pressed a kiss to his forehead and he the distinct smell of cookies and cigarettes filled his nose. “Remember my words, Cobra. Know the path and walk the path you forge for yourself.”
“Got him!”
The world seemed to tunnel vision around him, causing his vision to grow darker by the second.
“Will I see you again?” he said through his tears.
“Yes, Young Man,” she replied with a smile he could barely see, “you will.”
And then everything flickered to black and green, the entire room transforming into strings of code. Jimin let out a scream before darkness completely overtook his sight.
“Welcome to the Real World.”
Fragmentation 0.2 - PJM
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: 3,068
AN: Alright guys, get ready for these to hit the timeline back to back! I hope you’re ready! I thoroughly enjoyed writing these and yes, because it’s The Matrix, we are going to get dark in this piece. As I stated before, 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 0.3 - MYG
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: 2,206
AN: Now it’s Yoongi’s time to shine. And that is an allusion to different things. I’ll let you decide what I’m talking about. As I stated before, 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.
Heavy grunts of pain rang out in the storage shed. The distinct sound of something large hitting something soft echoed in the small space. A sliver of light pooled in through the foggy window, illuminating the particles of dust that lingered in the air. Every so often, something wet would hit the wall or the floor. Sometimes both.
“What’s the matter, Yoongi? Not gonna join in?”
A bat whisked through the air, coming down to land on a person’s back. They yelled out in agony, their fingers scraping across the dirt and concrete beneath them.
“Psh, whatever. You know he thinks he’s too good to get his hands dirty.”
A kick landed true, hitting the person straight in the ribs. They coughed, spittle and blood staining the floor.
“He’s not above watching, though.”
Min Yoongi’s face was as neutral as ever - giving away nothing. A cigarette was perched between his lips, the smoke billowing into his line of sight. He casually brushed at the sleeve of his school uniform, watching his fellow classmates pummel someone relentlessly with no real justification. Other than the kid was a scholarship student and didn’t come from actual money.
Yoongi didn’t have anything against him personally. As far as he was concerned, it didn’t really have anything to do with him. But he knew that if he didn’t at least participate in some form or fashion, his “friends” would open their stupid fucking mouths and tell their daddies how he didn’t “play nice” with his classmates. These entitled punks were the future of the world - deciding how and when and who would climb up in the ranks in society.
Money talked and the circles that existed within high society were suffocatingly small.
“This is stupid,” he muttered, standing from his chair. He crushed the ember of the cigarette out against the wall before flicking it off to the side. “I’m leaving.”
The three boys stopped their assault on the freshman, eyeballing Yoongi curiously. Curtis, the one who initiated this little event in the first place, cracked his neck as he turned to face him fully. The smirk on his face practically dripped “I am a pompous asshole”.
“Don’t have the stomach for it, Yoon?”
He scoffed, rolling his eyes as he leaned down to pick up his school bag. “No, I just don’t have time to play your bullshit games today.” Yoongi adjusted his jacket sleeve so he could look at his watch. “I have piano lessons in half an hour.”
He bumped his shoulder against Curtis’s chest, silently telling him he needed to get out of his way. The taller man did, stepping to the side so Yoongi could get to the door. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he pushed against it and exited the storage shed. The beating continued and he didn’t look back.
“Young Master,” a voice called out to him.
Yoongi looked up, noticing his family’s butler, Roland, as he stood beside the large black luxury car parked by the side street. He sighed, brushing some of his hair out of his eyes and then stepping toward the vehicle. Roland opened the door for him and without a single glance of acknowledgement, he flopped into the soft leather cushions of the backseat. The passenger side door opened and Roland entered, their driver pulling the car out to head for Yoongi’s next destination.
“Did you have a good day today, Young Master Yoongi?”
He shrugged, propping his elbow along the door to stare out of the window. “It’s whatever,” he replied nonchalantly, “same stupid boring shit day after day. What’s good about any of it?”
Roland cleared his throat some. “Tomorrow is always another day, Young Master.”
“Yes, Roland.” Yoongi closed his eyes. “Yes it is.”
Piano lessons went as they always did. Even when he was irritated, Yoongi always found a way to focus on the music. He didn’t even need to look at the sheet music anymore. He’d memorized everything in his practice books and took to adding his own variations to the music. Classic. Modern. None of it mattered. So long as he could let his body and mind disappear among the keys of ebony and ivory, then that was all he cared about. All he could will himself to care about.
As soon as the hour was over, Yoongi was forced to leave his small sanctuary. He bid his piano teacher farewell as Roland ushered him back out to the car. The next stop was Cram School. The moment of peace, his mental safe haven, was pulled from him as he was thrust into another suffocating atmosphere.
Once again, he was surrounded by the collective Elite - all born and bred for a purpose seemingly “greater” than themselves. A purpose that was determined before their conception; a purpose that wasn’t of their choosing.
It never was.
The real question was why? Why weren’t they able to choose? Who decided that choice was an illusion?
The professor droned on and on. Yoongi zoned out about halfway through the lecture, his wrist moving back and forth - scribbling notes that had nothing to do with the lesson. Honestly, he wanted to ditch cram school and head to a nearby arcade where he could waste hours mindlessly playing video games with random strangers. At least in that kind of atmosphere, he didn’t have to worry about being judged. Yoongi had no need for a plastic smile and false compliments. He could just be an ordinary teenager and maybe, just maybe, he would have been able to make a friend.
But that was a reality that was outside of the realm of possibility for him. Min Yoongi was the heir of a multi-million dollar corporation. Friendship? Purpose? Free of judgment?
That life was far outside of his reach.
“Mister Min.”
Yoongi blinked, his vision focusing back on his notebook. He slowly lifted his head up to see that his teacher and fellow classmates were all eyeballing him. Dropping his pencil, he straightened his posture, feeling the heaviness of their gazes weighing his chest down.
“Yes?”
“I asked if you would come up and solve this equation.” His teacher, Mr. Jameson, frowned as he set the dry erase marker down. “Are you feeling alright?”
There was a soft pounding at the back of his head, increasing the pressure behind his eyes. Yoongi pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to shake off the pain. But it steadily increased. He groaned, staggering to his feet.
“Actually, I think I need to go,” he murmured.
He reached down and scooped up his school bag, disregarding his notebook and pencil box that was still on his desk. A hand fell on his shoulder and Yoongi flung his arm out, knocking the person back roughly.
“DON’T TOUCH ME!” His voice boomed through the room, silencing almost everything. For a split second, Yoongi thought he saw the lights flickering a shade of green. “...don’t put your hands on me.”
No one made a move to go after him. He preferred it that way. The pounding at the back of his head was increasing, followed by a distinct ringing sound bouncing around in his ear canals. Beads of sweat bubbled around his temples and dripped from the end of his nose. He ignored the stares of other students and faculty members of the Cram School as he stumbled his way toward the front entrance.
Rain fell in cascading waves, washing over Yoongi’s shoulders and soaking him through almost instantly. His eyes tried to spot where Roland was, but the black sedan was lost among so many other similarly styled vehicles in the area. As he turned to walk down the street, he felt his chest slam into someone. Stumbling back, Yoongi lost his footing and fell to the concrete, his bag slipping from his fingers.
Looking up through the rain, he saw three men clad in suits. Even in the dark, they wore sunglasses. He found it a little bizarre, but kept his comments to himself. Yoongi saw all three men crane their necks to look down at him simultaneously. They made no motion to help him back to his feet and he, in turn, didn’t move from the ground. There was something immensely foreboding about their presence, causing goosebumps to pepper out across the back of his neck.
“Young Master!”
Yoongi heard Roland’s voice, but he remained focused on the three men in front of him. They never took their eyes off of him and he did the same. A cold feeling snaked up his chest, freezing the inside of his lungs and throat. He couldn’t speak. He could barely breathe. The pounding in his head intensified, his vision swimming momentarily.
Everything came into sharp focus when he felt his body being yanked up violently. His ears quit ringing and he felt Roland clinging to him protectively. Yoongi’s feet moved at his butler’s insistence, ushering him to where the car was. But just before they were out of earshot, he heard one of the men speak.
“See you again, Mr. Min.”
Roland quickly opened the door and Yoongi hopped inside, his breathing coming in swift intervals. He felt his butler slide into the seat beside him, ordering the driver to make haste. As he did so, he rubbed soothing circles on Yoongi’s back. It did little to quell the raging thunder of his own heartbeat, but at least he could hear the water hitting the window from how fast they were driving in the storm.
“Young Master.”
The sound of Roland’s deep voice brought him out of whatever trance Yoongi was placed under. Blinking rapidly, he turned to look at the man that was with him since he was a child. The look on Roland’s face was different; an expression that he’d never seen before. Or was it that he simply hadn’t paid any attention until now?
It was kindness and empathy. Like he, in that moment, could truly understand what Yoongi was feeling.
“R-Roland,” he managed to stammer, his hands reaching out to grasp the sleeves of Roland’s jacket, “w-what is happening?” He coughed. “Who were those guys?”
“Bad men.” Roland’s brows furrowed. “Very bad men.”
“How do you know that?”
“That isn’t as important as what I’m about to tell you next.” He reached behind him, pressing a button on the back panel to raise the divider between the backseat and driver’s cabin. “Young Master, I’m afraid that you’ve been pinged.”
Yoongi felt a lump forming in his throat. “What?” His grip tightened on Roland’s arms. “What the hell does that even mean?!”
“Now that you’re on their radar, they will begin pursuing you. They want to make sure that you won’t be able to discover the truth.”
“What truth, Roland?!” Yoongi felt the adrenaline shredding through his veins. “You’re not making any sense!”
“I’m sorry, Young Master, but I don’t have a lot of time to explain everything in detail. I can only help show you the way.” Roland gently urged Yoongi to release his arms so that he could move them. He placed his hands on Yoongi’s shoulders. “The rest is up to you.”
“Roland…”
Suddenly, Roland reached down below the seat. When he pulled his hand back, he was holding an automatic hand pistol. What calm settled over Yoongi’s heart was instantly destroyed. Roland pressed the button on the back panel, lowering the divider between both sections of the vehicle.
“Wait, Roland...what are you doing?!”
The butler, the man who’d taken care of him for most of his life, smiled as he aimed the gun at the back of the driver’s head.
“Goodbye, my Young Master.”
He wasn’t fast enough to see what was about to happen. Even if he had, there was no way that Yoongi would have been prepared. The ear splitting crack of the gun firing off made him scream as blood sprayed across the windshield. His hearing was muffled and the ringing returned. Covering his ears was pointless, but he did it anyway.
Yoongi’s center of gravity shifted drastically as the car swerved. Tears streamed down his face as he saw Roland aiming the gun to his own head. The sound that erupted from his body was inhuman, like that of a beast crawling out from the depths of Hell itself. The second gunshot caused a flash of light to flare up in the small space as chunks of meat and bone exploded through the curtain of blood spray.
There wasn’t enough time for him to mourn. Everything shifted into darkness as strings of green numbers and letters took on the shapes of the vehicle, the driver, and Roland. The terror scratching over his entire body seemed to cease. For a few brief seconds, Yoongi forgot about the two corpses in his presence and how the vehicle was out of control. Reaching a hand out, he tried to touch the strings of code.
The shrill sound of a semi-truck’s horn brought him back to reality. As he turned his head, he was blinded by a set of headlights. They blared on continuously, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. It was inevitable.
Yoongi smiled seconds before impact.
“Welcome to the Real World.”
Fragmentation 0.3 - MYG
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: 2,206
AN: Now it’s Yoongi’s time to shine. And that is an allusion to different things. I’ll let you decide what I’m talking about. As I stated before, 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 0.4 - 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 0.6 - 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 0.6 - 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: 2,269
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.
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.”