Awakening Of The New Emperor

POV: Recruit 79

It's been a week now...

Still trapped in this hellhole. It's becoming unbearable, truly.

I managed to drag my body over to water. While the source was tremendously slow, it was water, and that was definitely what I needed to push through for a bit longer.

But what was the point, really?

I don't know how long I'd last without food, and even then, I definitely have infections at this point. I've gotten heat rashes, amongst other things, even moving an inch hurting as I slide my skin, just barely covered by a thin, old shirt or ripped shorts.

There was no point to even attempt to move anyway. I'd be sacrificing my only source of water for a gamble to find something else.

It was still all dark, pitch black even. Who knows if there is anything else?

I had to get here somehow, but it could've very well been a closed off pit. And I am in no condition to start climbing, even though I might not make it to the wall to begin with anyway.

I've tried looking through the eyes of the invaders. They easily secured our base within the hour, cutting down many troops that were most obviously dead. What was so special about me? And what was the point of watching me die slowly? Was that considered entertainment for them, rather than a quick, boring death?

It's now been almost two weeks.

The suffering is insurmountable. It's finally time to meet my end.

I've made it a long longer than I thought I would, but if it was all going to be for naught, I wish I would've just stabbed myself in the heart before risking the chance of getting captured—not getting the water source, another option, so I didn't have to extend my suffering for nearly an entire week longer.

I can barely keep my eyes open. Usually I'd just fall asleep and wake up with an incurable headache these past few days, but I have a pretty good feeling that I won't wake up from this.

The hunger has finally driven me mad—to despair.

My eyes began closing, and I didn't resist. Why would I? Is there ever gonna be light at the end of this dark, torturous tunnel?

All my senses became fragile, unable to comprehend anything, not even the sound of the dripping water or my own painful groans. Just as everything went to black, I heard muffling. Something was there, or was I just trying to imagine things to make me feel better... oh well...

***

POV: Unknown

"For someone in the lowest of the ranks, they lasted the same length as the other test subjects—some of them being actual soldiers," one spoke behind me.

"Yes, his mental endurance is quite remarkable," I reply back, in awe.

We had sent two people to go retrieve him, so he should be fine.

"Is it time to continue onward with the experiment?" He asked once more, face still concentrating on the screens before us.

"Yes," I answer.

***

POV: Recruit 79

My eyes flicker open, tiredness absolute. However that didn't matter, as I was alive.

Shooting my gaze upwards, I notice that I'm now tied down to a chair. I've been taught how to escape these situations, but similarly to what I believe happened to the last room, these 'ropes' are nexus infused.

What a bummer...

I still felt absolutely starving. I don't know how I'm alive.

But now, there was actually stuff to.. see? Outside of the chair that I'm tied to with the rope that leads down over and behind me, there's a very dim light just over my head it seems, shining over the entire room. While small, it definitely looks dated. The brick walls look like they've seen better days, and dried up blood stains riddled the floors below us.

Just as I continued examining my surroundings, a door opened from behind me. I didn't have enough strength or free space to turn around, so I just waited as the sound of the footsteps gained distance towards me.

Finally, a man appeared just before me. He wore a very ominous cloak, obviously torn, ripped on the edges, and just generally not well kept.

A scarf laid comfortably around him, which contrasted the heat that still haunted this room.

He wore black fabric gloves, along with messy red hair that stood out like a sore thumb. Scars covered his face, clearly a warrior himself, although I'm not sure if he still is.

And that's when I noticed something on his armor. The star symbol, used to reference The New Order. They were my allies.

"Oh thank god," I said in disbelief.

But they didn't reply, and that's when I decided to pay close attention to the symbol.

I didn't realize it at first, but the symbol was crossed out. 'Who are these guys? Are they friend, or foe? I can't tell...' I toss around these questions in my own thoughts.

The man steps behind me once again, but comes out quickly, this time dragging a chair with him. He quickly brings it in front, facing me, and takes a seat following that. He held himself lousily, almost as if he had no care for anything. Maybe he doesn't understand the severity of raiding an entire militia base and taking their men captive...

Most people are wise enough to cover their faces around here, never really knowing someone for how they look but rather how they carry themselves.

"Ah. You noticed the symbol, that explains that oddly worried expression of yours, although I can't exactly blame you," he finally speaks.

His voice crackled, almost as if he hadn't spoken for years.

I didn't really have much energy to speak, my last few words all that I could muster.

"You know, I'm very surprised you lasted as long as you did. You look like shit, but your alive. Not everyone we threw down there could say the same," he laughed. He thought this was a game, a joke, nothing more than his amusement it seems. What a sick man.

"Who are you?" I finally muttered.

The dude seemed unamused at what I asked, as if he was expecting something greater. If he knew what he had put me through, why is he expecting any words to begin with?

"Ah! Questions, questions, yes, questions indeed!" The man spoke weirdly, almost like a lunatic. 'Has he gone mentally insane?' I ask myself.

"But tell me boy, who are you?" He finally snapped.

What the fuck?

"What do you mean who I am? Didn't you slaughter all the guards and dragged me back to this forsaken hell?" I shouted, losing it. I didn't care how I felt in terms of strength.

"You talk like you're best friends with these 'guards', but really, what do you make of them?" He asked. "Are they your friends? Comrades? Mere Acquaintances?"

"My friends, sick bastard, I've been with them for as long as I can remember," I spat.

 The man let out a smile. "Do they think the same way about you?"

"What are you even talking about?" I replied. I was very confused. Not only was my chest tied in knots, with my head about to erupt, how was I supposed to make out what he's trying to tell me, or ask me? He wants too much from me, that's clear enough.

Instead of answering me back, he got up and headed over to the empty table in front of me, leaning against the wall.

With an injection of nexus energy driven down to his palm, he summoned a little artifact. It looks like... ah. A recording artifact, it seems.

But why exactly does he need that? What is he gonna show me even?

"Let's take a watch, shall we?" He spoke calmly.