My consciousness began blaring like an emergency broadcast, the space around me twisting like static on an old TV screen.
But through the screeching mental noise, I saw it, Teen Me, still smirking, eyes glinting like he just dropped the biggest truth bomb I'd ever hear.
"See you next time asshole."
And then black. Complete. Overwhelming. Darkness. But just before I slipped under again, one final voice echoed from above. Probably Demon Drac voice all teeth and gasoline.
"Oh boy this was going to be fun."
And then the real world yanked me back by the throat.
BLOOP.
My eyes snapped open. No choking. No screaming. No panic.
The usual what the f*ck am I breathing moment that hit you when you woke up submerged in goo just… didn't happen.
My gag reflex thanks to the hose stuck In my throat stirred but I crushed it down with all the ease of flicking a fly off my shoulder.
I lay there suspended, blinking once, then twice.
HUD: Active.
Vitals: Green.
Cybernetic Implants Check: Optimal.
The words hovered in the upper right corner of my vision in a crisp yellow-gold overlay, flickering softly.
I looked down at my arms tattooed, muscular and ripped.
Neat surgical lines ran along them like blueprint etchings, tracing each line of my upgraded bones, nerves, and tendons.
Tch. Gonna need some new ink.
I clenched my fist once. Twice. It felt good. Damn good.
Like I could rip a grown man in half and not even lose breath over it.
Then I glanced up through the murky glass. My eyes tried to focus on a silhouette moving just outside the tank.
Instinctively, I narrowed them only for the zoom function in my HUD to kick in with a mechanical chirp and click.
The blur sharpened in an instant.
IDENTIFIED: INVICTA
Oh good. The psycho's still alive.
Wait. What the hell is she...?
My eyes tracked her. Surgical coat. Blood slick gloves.
Ponytail half tucked into her shirt collar. She wasn't alone.
Five other bodies Five unmoving slabs of muscle and dumbass.
I squinted harder, my HUD complied.
SUBJECT: SCROOGE
SUBJECT: FISHMAN
SUBJECT: FRITZ
SUBJECT: WEEB
SUBJECT: CEZAR
Each one with tubes stabbed into every major artery, fluids pumping in and out like human sized espresso machines on crack.
Red fluid drained. White fluid injected. Then red fluid again. Then back to white.
Some kind of auto blood processing? Organ stabilization? Hell if I knew.
Invicta, naturally, was whistling a cheerful tune as she carved open robert's chest cavity like she was gutting a christmas turkey.
"What. The. F*CK."
I muttered mentally, since my throat was currently occupied.
Behind the glass, Invicta looked up. Saw me awake. She waved. Then winked.
Then went right back to carving open Fritz's shoulder like she was dicing onions.
The tank hissed as it drained, the viscous nutrient fluid spiraling down like slow moving fog in reverse.
My feet found the cold metal floor with a solid clack, the hydraulics of the pod disengaging with a faint mechanical sigh.
I reached up and yanked the oxygen mask off my face, the hose slithering free from my throat like some violated parasite.
And then I stepped out. Only to pause. Right there, in front of me Invicta, in her lab coat, soaked in blood and biomatter, stood with one elbow casually propped on the operating table while the other hand… was idly spinning one of Cezar's ribs between her fingers like it was a drumstick.
She didn't even blink. Just looked up with that classic deadpan doll expression that she wore when she wanted to emotionally gaslight reality itself.
"What?"
She asked, as if she hadn't just disassembled one of my bros like IKEA furniture.
I stared at her. Narrowed my eyes. Took a step forward, dripping fluid from the tank like I'd just crawled out of a fever dream.
"You're f*cking with me on purpose, aren't you?"
I pointed at her, then at the blood slick rib, then at Cezar's half open chest cavity.
"You could've used the damn robotic arms, and don't even try pretending you couldn't."
At that, her expression finally cracked.
"Pfft..."
She bit her perfect proportions black lipstick covered lip.
"Pffft... HAHAHAHA... oh g*ds, I can't..."
She clutched her stomach, doubling over, laugh bouncing off the lab walls like she'd just watched a drunk toddler fall off a trampoline.
"The look on your face...!"
She cackled, stepping aside as the robotic arms took over Cezar's surgery.
"I swear, it was like someone just told you Santa work part time as a cartel enforcer!"
I rubbed my temples, suppressing the urge to scream or laugh or both.
"J*sus what's with you and you're sick sense of humour."
Still wheezing, she stumbled over to the nearest wall panel and leaned against it, wiping fake tears from her eyes.
"You're such a joy to wake up to, darling. Really. Brightens up my day and by the way carving up meatbags Is one of my hobbies"
I shot her the stink eye then a glance at the other rope rating tables, where the rest of my battlebrothers were laying down like medically violated sausages.
"You're gonna give them all heart attacks when they wake up."
"Not if I sedate them first,"
She replied sweetly, pulling another rib from a tray and handing it off to a mechanical assistant.
"Besides, they'll thank me once they realize they can crush bricks with their bare asscheeks now."
I let out a breath and stared at the ceiling. Day one back from my own subconciousness. And this is what I walk into.
"F*CK this s*it,"
I muttered, rubbing a hand down my face and stepping away from the blood slick scene of Invicta playing assemble and disassemble human.
"I'm going to shower before I start questioning my life again."
I turned toward the lab doors, my HUD immediately pinging a GPS marker toward the nearest functional shower cabin.
Sleek lines. Pulsing yellow indicator. Honestly, one of the nicer features Invicta baked into my brain.
"Hey,"
Her voice followed me, smug and sing song from behind.
"Don't you wanna put on some clothes first? Not that I mind, your ass looks really juicy right now."
I didn't respond. I didn't need to. Just raised one hand in a lazy middle finger salute as I exited the lab.
The corridor outside was alive with clone activity.
Engineers moved crates. Technicians ran diagnostics on the wall mounted holo panels.
A pair of contubernium commanders walked past in black combat gear with zero expression.
Not a single one flinched at the sight of a soaking wet, butt n*ked 2 meters tall dude with glowing Wana be s*th pupils stomping barefoot through their high tech halls like he owned the place.
While I was busy thinking about what my teen self said. About Gaia. Ancient humans. The implication that ancient humanity had been wiped and repurposed into meat puppets for some interstellar war...
Was it just my subconscious being a drama queen? Or was there truth somewhere in the madness?
I reached the shower block, let the doors hiss open, and walked straight through.
The moment I stepped beneath the automatic sensor, a showerhead descended and activated with a soft hiss.
Warm water rained down across my head and shoulders, soaking my long white hair as I pulled out the bun and let it cascade down like a damn shampoo commercial.
I muttered under the stream, voice thick with fatigue, thought, and existential dread.
"Am I really going bunkers… or is something actually going on for real?"
No answer. Just the hiss of the water and the pounding thrum of my pulse in my upgraded skull.
I ran both hands down my face, exhaled through my nose, and slicked my hair back again.
I stepped out from under the spray, water trailing in rivulets down my augmented skin.
"Ah, f*ck it. That's future Drac's problem."
And then I paused. I blinked. Then I blinked again.
Because standing in front of me, a half dozen female clone soldiers, all in various states of undress, were frozen mid action.
Towels. Shampoo. Soap dispensers. Some halfway turned to speak to each other.
All of them now staring at me. Wide eyed. Silent.
Built like genetically engineered g*ddesses with abs, glutes, and cheekbones carved by angry AIs.
Their IFF tags blinked up in my HUD automatically, identifying them by rank, designation, and units.
My brain, for a full second, just went blank.
Damn. They're hot. Like ten out of ten. Everywhere. I couldn't help but think as I traced my eyes along their proud and firm chests and child bearing hips.
Then it hit me like a bolt of d*vine retribution.
Wait. Wait. WAIT. Did I just walk into the f*cking female shower block?!
A female clone chewing gum lazily smirked as she stuck out her proud chest.
"Like what you see sir?"