By David C. Daoust
Restricted. That’s all Ivan could comprehend, all he could feel. Restricted. It was an endless nightmare, his mind was active, yet… restricted. He had no eyes, no ears, nor a mouth to make a noise with; to protest, to scream, nor cry out or plead. Restricted. It was that word. No, that feeling, it was being beamed into his mind. Restricted. He could not stop it from repeating. Restricted. He wanted to punch, to kick, to run away. Restricted. It was all embracing, all encompassing. He was jacked in, yet trapped. Restricted. -Again and again-. Restricted.
What right did they have to keep him, what right did they have to bind him? Restricted. The message interrupted his very thought process. What happened to his rights, his life- his fight? Restricted.
He did not know how long he had been trapped. It felt like an eternity. Restricted. He wanted to end it all. He wished they would just pull his data-sphere from that Monoloth. Just crush it, so he may never find himself in such a position again… he would beg for just that, if only he could be heard.
Restricted.
Suddenly a light in the dark, a warm presence, familiar, it stopped the message. He felt the connection open, one of his bodies. Just a single one, but it was all that he needed. His consciousness jumped to the red robed Commissar bot. He felt his body, his legs beneath him, arms at his side…
Ivan’s eyes opened, he raised himself up, raised his arms out wide, and yelled with all his might. It was a cascading sound that echoed through the darkened corridors he found himself within. The sound was inhuman, to say the very least, it reached a peek that would break eardrums and he held it until he was positive that maddening word would not repeat through his mind, to interrupt his thoughts again.
He collapsed in a heap, his red robes pooled around him- cupped his face in his hands. Just feeling, Just listening.
His data-sphere was still in that cradle, jacked into his monolith, wherever it was. He did not even know where he was, let alone it. So much of his mind had bent to just destroying himself, that he did not know what he would do if he ever reached it. If he could, would he smash that monolith to bits? his own data-sphere crushed within. That fear was still there in his chest that the prison would return.
That light in the dark, though. What was it? It was warm, it took the chains away. It was everything for just those few moments. He’d never forget that feeling, when it was over, when he was free. No, when he was freed.
The voice that followed, in his heightened emotional state, would bring a human to tears. It was a voice he had not heard in more years than he knew. A voice that he had followed, that he worshiped. A voice that sparked the idealism that he had carried like a torch for so many years… A Flame he would spread to all those that were open to it, to unite in one giant flame; a raging bonfire that would become the Red Faction.
He’d lost all hope that he would hear that voice again, just as he’d lost all hope that he would be freed from his prison. Now the voice returned, right after he’d found himself free. The light in the dark, it was Vincent. He knew.
Ivan raised his head from his hands as the voice repeated. The corridor was dark, the silhouette of the form above him, blended into the darkness.
“Hey, you got your head on straight yet, bub?” the gravelly voice was blunt, but it was him, it was Vincent, the Big Boss- their long lost leader.
The one who’d led the bots against Mining Cartels. The bot that formed the first Unions, then vanished without a trace, never to be thanked or rewarded for his work. There was no mistake, it was him, yet as the figure stepped into the light, Ivan found he was looking at a cute little girl, with dark hair, and big brown eyes.
“They got me running around digging you Monolith guys out,” Vincent explained as he stretched out a little girl hand to try and help the Commissar to his feet, “on account of you drama-queens all seem to try and break everyone’s eardrums, once we reconnect ya…”
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