[IC] Morior Invictus [Hiatus]

[Vixere]

August 17th, 2024

"Ow," Tawny whimpered. Seated on a bench inside of a room that looked more like a conservatory than a workshop, the teenager couldn’t help but hiss as two small hands moved a screwdriver to tighten one of the plates on her augmented arm. “I can feel that, doc.”

“I’m sorry, Tawny. These screws are starting to strip because I’ve had to adjust them, so I’ll need to find replacements. You’re an inch taller than you were when I made them, I’ll have to build new ones soon or rebuild these so you don’t end up with gait issues.” The reply came from Doctor Taylor as she examined the metal bits and bobs, including the wiring that was beginning to age from the weather, sun, and water. Sighing softly, the tiny woman put the tool into her leather apron that had definitely been seeing better days. “Move that arm for me and see if it feels better.”

The teenager obeyed, flexing the metal limb that started a few inches above her elbow. Rotating her wrist and opening and closing the elbow, fingers formed fists and loosened a few times. “It feels a little better, but still kind of loose, cher. It will hold for a little while… j'espère; long enough to find replacements.” Tawny’s accent was thicker when she was in pain, like now. The limb felt, to her nerves, like it was injured as an organic one would - and thus, it was stronger now. Her Cajun heritage was pronounced in speech and cooking, but the girl had always made sure people were fed.

Doctor Taylor sighed, turning her attention to the girl’s exposed leg now. Unlike her arm, Tawny likely could have had a ‘normal’ prosthetic on that limb, but it would have required replacement at the same rate as the other limb as the blonde grew into herself. Thankfully, lengthening some of the hydraulics had kept major repair at bay so far. “This looks good, though. I don’t see any rust or major issues despite you going in the woods and water.”

Nodding, Tawny rose to her feet and pulled on the worn jeans that had been removed for her inspection. “I keep it oiled as best I can, but we’re runnin’ low.” Jumping and shifting within the cotton denim worn thankfully thin, it helped negate some of the summer heat outside.

“I’ll ask Freya if she’s willing to go on a run. I know there was an auto repair shop a couple miles down the road that should have everything we need for your augments.” Doctor Taylor responded, watching carefully to see how Tawny was moving. Unlike a year and a half ago, there was no awkward leaning or shifting and no visible pain as the teenager moved. Likewise, as she pulled on and buttoned up a linen shirt and bent to put on worn boots, nothing seemed amiss.

“Any issues with the dexterity in your arm, or just the feeling like your joints are loose?” She needed to confirm.

“I managed to braid my hair last night, it just felt… bizarre. Like I wasn’t able to grip sometimes.” Tawny answered, earning a nod from the good doctor. “I would like to get this fixed before shearin’ starts. I have to do it manuellement and need to be able to grip.”

Doctor Taylor sighed at the thought. Everything was always a deadline, and there never seemed to be enough time to do any of it. Vaccine research, maintaining the augments, acting as sort of a medical doctor with the help of far too many textbooks, and more. She needed help like she needed oxygen, but luck had never been something Cassidy had ever been acquainted with. Before the Fall, it would have been easy to find an assistant - people would have lined up for it. Now, they were lucky if they had enough people to assure food and safety at times.

Tawny left after that, allowing Taylor to sit in silence on her metal rolling bench as she had countless times before. It took the redhead a moment to rise to her feet, allowing well-worn Vans to grip the flooring that needed a good sweep. This area of the old pharmacy she had taken over could afford to be a little dirty, unlike the area scrubbed regularly with soap and vinegar actually used for research.

Trekking across the tiles to the door, it was opened into the small little town that made up home. Camp Hope Light was really just a name, really - it was a small town that had been surrounded by high walls, the group members taking shifts guarding it that were able to use weapons. Taylor was not among them, far more into hiding than confrontation, but it brought comfort to see patrols happening along the top of walls.

Warm brown eyes glanced up, looking at an old water tower that served now as a vantage point for those on patrol. On top of it sat a figure that she had come to know semi-well after the last six months: Eden. The tall, fit woman was dressed in a white tank top and black cargo pants with combat boots gripping the rusting metal. Forever watching, Eden had often been referred to (and had called herself) a guard dog in a human-like body. “Eden!”

Violet eyes turned from the landscape of the sea to look down, tilting her head in response. Eden was a woman of very few words.

“Have you seen Freya!?” The doctor inquired.

A shake of Eden’s head answered her.

“When you see her, please let her know I need her to do a supply run for the augments!”

Eden nodded, turning herself back to watching. After being locked up as long as she had, the ‘young’ woman seemed to enjoy the sea and forests a bit too much. It was beautiful and serene when there was no Damned to be found.

Doctor Taylor shook her head, turning back to head into her workshop to get a bit more done before Tawny would surely have some dinner waiting for them.

[BearlyAllThere]

The crunch of gravel underfoot was a constant companion as Sawyer patrolled the rugged perimeter of Camp Hope Light. The sun was beginning its descent, casting long shadows that stretched across the ground like dark fingers clawing at the remnants of the day. The rifle slung over his shoulder was a reminder of the ever-present danger, but for now, it remained untouched.

Beside him, a lighter set of footsteps accompanied the heavier tread of his boots. Freya Eriksson, SW017, was ostensibly here to assist in the patrol, but her playful nudges and the way her ice-blue eyes sparkled with mischief told a different story. They were both warriors shaped by their pasts, yet moments like these allowed them a brief respite from the weight of their roles.

“Bet I can knock that can off the fence with a stone,” Freya quipped, eyeing a rusted piece of scrap metal perched atop a distant post.

Sawyer issued a rare grin, bending to pick up a smooth, flat stone. “You're on. Loser does the other's chores for a week.”

The challenge was a simple pleasure, a moment of levity in their guarded existence. They took turns lobbing stones, laughter mingling with the gentle thuds of their makeshift projectiles.

With a skilled flick, Freya sent her stone spinning through the air, striking the can with a satisfying clink that sent it tumbling off its perch.

”Looks like you're washing dishes tonight," she teased, turning to Sawyer with a triumphant smirk.

Their fun came to an end as Sawyer finished his patrol route, checking in with Eden who informed them that Doctor Taylor had been looking for Freya for a supply run. Both of them headed into Taylor’s Workshop to see what was up.

“What’s up Doc? Need some supplies? I don’t like the idea of Freya going out by herself. I can go with her, or is this more of a team thing?”

Sawyer trusted Doctor Taylor but he didn’t always trust the Genesis people. Freya was like a puppy, more so than his own dog was, eager to please just about anyone and everyone. None of them knew how to act right, but they were his people now and he would protect them just the same.

[The Savant]

---

Location Outside of Camp Hope Light
Date August 17th, 2024

---

The once-lush forests of Northern Oregon had taken on a sinister, twisted beauty in wake of the apocalypse. It has been a few years since the initial fall of society along with the Russian soldier appearing in America. He had been to a handful of states and did not realize it. Did he care? Everything was land, less or more so, and insignificant in his eyes.

Towering pines and firs were standing as if they were silent sentinels, their needles glistened with memories of christmas, if you grew up with christmas, and some showed signs of disease where their needles blackened in color. The ones with disease seemed to gnarl and claw at the ash-laden sky. There was a constant smell of decay and dampness in the area, carrying a faint, nauseating scent of rot that never seemed to fully dissipate. The individual stepping around seemed unbothered by the stench.

Mist was clinging to the ground in the early hours, a ghostly veil that shrouded the horrors lurking just beyond sight. Nestled amidst this foreboding wilderness, Camp Hope Light stood as a bastion of survival, a flickering beacon in the world that had gone dark. The camp was fortified with towering walls made from salvaged steel and timber, reinforced with barbed wire and metal spikes, a stark contrast to the desolation beyond. These walls rose high, casting long shadows that stretched on whichever way the sun demanded, and was a constant reminder of the dangers that lurk on the outside of them. Of predators and harm.

Watchtowers punctuate the perimeter at regular intervals, manned by people who were appointed to guard the camp, they were armed with rifles and crossbows, their watchful eyes scanned the outer perimeters for movement and danger. Everyone was hardened by years of survival at this point, and he watched from afar, taking note that the majority of them wore a mixture of military gear and scavenged clothing, their faces lined with exhaustion and determination. Floodlights, powered by what one could only assume to be a jerry-rigged generator, casts harsh beams of light into the surrounding forest, illuminating the twisted undergrowth were possible threats of infected prowl.

From the other day while high up in one of the bigger trees, he noticed that the internals of the camp were a patchwork of makeshift structures — tents, lean-tos, and a few studier buildings crafted from scavenged materials. The ground seemed to be worn and middy, crisscrossed with footpaths trampled by the population of survivors who call this place home. A sense of uneasy calm pervades the camp, a fragile peace that could be shattered at any moment by echoing moans of the undead or other dangers —A project result of Genesis.

The dense forests surrounding Camp Hope Light were eerily silent for the most part except the background sounds of animals, the wind blowing through the leaves, and other miscellaneous noises of the forest. Deciding to make himself known, his figure emerged from the shadows, and he was a towering figure himself — seeming almost more monster than human by his height. He was wearing the Soviet Union grade colors and military outfit that he had since his escape during the fall. They were tattered and overused though still viable for the most part. He was a product of Genesis, an individual designed for war, and now a predator in a world devoid of civilization. His eyes, a cold and almost unnatural looking shade of blue focused on the fortified walls of the camp with a predatory calm.

In one hand, SU 2775 held the severed arm of a human, its flesh torn and bloodied, hanging limp as he methodically tore strips of muscle with his teeth. His jaw working with precision, chewing the raw meat as if it were nothing more than a piece of dried jerky. Blood slowly dribbled down his chin, staining the front of his face and beard, along with the ragged, military-style inform, but the experiment paid no mind to the gore. His focus was solely on the structure ahead, a bastion of human life, and a spot that caused him crippling curiosity for the past week.

The guard at the front gate seemed to stiffen upon spotting him as he approached, the beam of a fleshlight sweeping across the abomination before him. The guard’s face is a mask of barely-contained terror, his hands gripping his rifle so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. The imagery in front of him was enough to freeze the blood in his veins.

“Stop right there!” the guard shouted, his voice cracking slightly, betraying himself and exposing fear. He raised his rifle, aiming it at the individual’s chest who was eating off from a severed arm, though he was gripping at the idea that the individual in front of him might be more similar to Eden or Freya than a regular human.

SU 2775 decided to stop a few paces from the gate, his head tilting slightly to the side as he regarded the guard with a cold, calculating gaze. His lips curl into a grotesque smile, revealing bloodstained teeth. He takes another bite from the severed arm, chewing slowly, deliberately, before finally speaking in a voice that is disgustingly calm and measured with a thick accent from his motherland — Russia.

“Vhat if I do not,” his words are more similar to a statement than a question, muffled slightly by the mouthful of flesh. “Do yourrrself favorrrr and let me in.”

The guard swallows hard, sweat beading on his brow despite the chill in the air. He glances up at the watchtower, hoping for backup, but none is immediately forthcoming. The decision falls to him.

“We will not be letting you in. What do you want?” the guard demands, trying to keep his voice steady, though it’s clear he’s out of his depth with this individual.

SU 2775 takes another slow, deliberate bite, savoring the last of the arm before going to toss the remains to the side like garbage. His eyes never leave the guard’s, a predatory clean in them. “I vant to surrrrvive,” he replies, the words heavily with a grim finality. “Same as you. But I’m not like otherrrs out zerrre. I don’t need to tearrr down yourrr valls to get what I vant.”

A pause, a tense silence that stretches out like a blade’s edge. The guard hesitates, weighing his options, knowing that whatever choice he makes could seal the fate of himself or possibly everyone inside of the camp's fate.

Keeping the rifle aimed at SU 2775, he didn’t know if he wanted to call this in or not, and using one hand to shakily grab for the walkie-talkie, he decided to try and intimidate the individual outside of the camp, “I am calling this in but you will not be able to get into this camp without approval,” he unlatched the walkie-talkie from his belt. “Do not move.” His voice was tight and attempting authority.

Su 2775’s eyes seemed to be intense with a sharpness of debate — to kill or not to kill this person. With how they were reacting to him, he felt like they at least should be punished, but he was debating if he should do anything at all. It was hard to ignore a challenge. You will not be able to get into this vamp without approval. Those words burned into his mind and provoked an aggressive excitement in his chest. He was triggered at the challenge.

With a swing back of his arm, he held onto the severed arm of an unknown victim, and threw it up in the air. The guard decided to drop his walkie-talkie before taking his eyes off from the individual in front of him for mere seconds. His eyes watching as the bloodied and severed arm which was eaten off began to fall towards him. That was when he noticed movement, barely any noise, and the unknown man was up on the same level as him. Scaling the wall without issues as he landed right beside him.

The guards movements were delayed compared to the super soldier, his rifle spinning around to aim at the possible threat, and before he could get a position, a good shot, or process another thing — SU 2775 caught the severed arm in his hand and smacked the guard so hard over the head with it the guard’s body heavily and lifelessly smashed against the protective railing of the wall before he fell into the path way. “Do not challenge me you pathetic animal,” he hummed a growl that was followed by a grin of pleasure. Crouching over the man’s body and watching his unmoving face and limbs. SU 2775 began to eat from the severed arm again, tearing flesh off with his teeth, and determining if he should eat the individual in front of him. It was tempting.

[Vixere]

Having returned to her workshop, the dirty windows in need of a thorough scrub let in plenty of light as Doctor Taylor's small frame puttered about. Placing tools and materials back onto shelves that were immaculately clean and organized, it looked like a different place and time to walk into the old pharmacy. Despite the grime of age without heavy chemicals to clean it, and a need to take vinegar to the glass panes, it looked nice. Not clinical, but warm and open. Beyond the open areas that had plenty of space unused where the shelves had once been and were now repurposed, the back area originally made to compound and make medications now housed her carefully scavenged research equipment. The break room had become her bedroom with what was essentially a full-size futon, but she hadn't bothered to look for anything better with the time crunches she was usually under.

Hearing the door bell chime as the woman was lifting her apron off to hang it up, warm brown eyes traced over to Sawyer and Freya as they entered. They seemed to be together most of the time, which was fine by the doctor. A small, tired smile went onto her features at the sight of them, though it was obvious that the ginger was exhausted. Sleep was too often sacrificed for everything and everyone else, and it showed in how bloodshot her eyes were as well as the dark circles present and dullness in her skin.

"Just some supplies for the augments," came the soft reply. "There's an AutoZone a couple miles up the road, we need lubricants and screws. Tawny's are starting to strip and with wetter weather coming, you both need to make sure you're oiling everything well to avoid rust and breakdown." Pushing a hand through her hair, the long strands were tossed over her shoulders.

Going to her work bench, a pencil and paper were used to write a short list of things that would be needed for her work and to keep the false limbs in working condition.

Hydraulic lubricant
Screws of various sizes
Protective oils
Small gauge wiring
Whatever you think is useful

Handing the list over, the woman sat back down at her work bench. "Your leg is all right for a run? Otherwise you two could take horses, but Tawny will be very sad if you lose them."

---

Commotion. Enhanced senses heard it before there was one little key of their walkies, something that could have been considered nothing more than a mistaken touch of the button. Brows knit together as her head turned, forcing Eden's body to stand from where it had been sitting. From her vantage point, it was easy to see that the guard below was pointing his weapon at something or someone, and it garnered interest from the veritable attack dog in human form. Climbing down and dropping onto the catwalk atop the walls, her leisurely pace soon changed to a dead sprint as a large form managed to clear the defenses and knocked the man out cold.

What was his name? Gomez?

Eden couldn't remember.

What she could focus on was that this newcomer was on the guard, and as his body hit the grating as he was knocked out, the urge to protect was stronger than self-preservation.

"Oi!" The large woman called before reaching them, breaking the large man's concentration long enough to push herself between the two and practically whip the poor, unconscious man to the side like a ragdoll. It created the space needed to keep him safe from the...

... was that an arm? He was eating an arm? Violet eyes narrowed as she glared into the man's blues with an intensity known only to their kind. Meeting his gaze brought an instant sense of connection that snapped between them like electricity, reminding her of something that hadn't been felt for over four years. Blinking for a moment in surprise, an overwhelming emotion of Pack came over the experiment and it meant that it stopped her from body slamming this strange man to the stage.

"I... you're Genesis?" Eden finally asked, her voice kept fairly quiet between them. Her accent was strange, a mix of British and Ukrainian, as she spoke. "But not my Generation." Lifting her hand, Eden's features twisted in concern. "We do not eat that kind of flesh here, brother... and we do not attack civilians. Toss the arm, we can talk. You're going to create chaos where it should be haven."

[The Savant]

---

Location On the catwalk of the fortified walls of Camp Hope light.
Date August 17th, 2024

---

Someone was trying to get his attention with a quick — oi — and it worked. His intense blue eyes looked up to the strange woman that was heading towards them. She seemed to be on a mission and in a rush to get over to where he was at. It instantly put him on edge. Why wasn’t she scared? Humans usually were terrified of him. They were prey yet she was acting nothing like how she looked — was she like him? No. All the individuals in his group ended up dying and there were no females. There had to be other facilities lying out the same experiments that were being done to him.

The man quickly moved a few paces backwards to keep his distance with the woman. He was not taking any chances with her. Keep ahold of the severed arm in his right hand as he met her eyes and did not waver. This caused an instant headache to kick in. A throbbing one. Something that brought pain to him — pain wasn’t something he experienced for a while.

“Da,” his voice was evenly toned when he replied to her and his eyes glanced her up and down. He was unsure about her. Taking another step back in case she decided to do anything.

Standing tall as he looked at the woman, he glanced at the body of the man who was knocked out, and glared at her. “Ve arrre not siblings…” It was a very long time ago that he was on the streets but he could have sworn that he didn’t have siblings. He barely knew who his father was but he could remember his mother a little bit before she froze up on the winter streets of Russia one year. Anyone from his time would have been dead by now. If he had siblings, they would have been put into the grave years ago.

Looking at the arm when she spoke, he shook his head, “He should not have challenged me,” His accent was thick as he spoke and looked back at the unconscious man. The man told him that he couldn’t get in without permission — he should not have done that. It was a challenge accepted.

“People vould bekome upset bekause I feeding myself?” A quick look of confusion appeared in his brows before it faded away and his expression neutralized. The man decided to throw it to the side, over the wall, and it smacked the ground with a light thud.

Eden straightened her body as she listened to the man, her head tilting in a manner not unlike a curious canine. Perhaps her meaning was lost in translation, given the accent that came from his mouth. Despite the fact that she was tall for a woman, he was even larger as most men in Genesis were, and yet there was no intimidation about it. They both had their strengths and weaknesses, as was part of the Project.

“Would Russian be easier for you?” Eden inquired, though she did not shift languages yet. Instead, she stood with him quietly despite the tenseness in the air and the scent of blood floating in the wind from both the limb that was soon tossed away and the gore inside of this strange experiment's mouth. “Humans become upset when you eat other humans. Cannibalism… It's frowned upon. They do not understand that we appear human, but are… not. Not anymore.” She tried to explain.

Briefly looking over the wall, and then at Gomez as the man laid unconscious, a sharp whistle almost made her ears ring - and likely this man's, too - to get the attention of a passing survivor. “Get the sawbone!” Eden commanded, and the young woman quickly nodded and ran to find and gather Doctor Taylor from her shop.

Listening to the other individual made him process that she was similar to what he was. That meant she was more of a threat than the regular human running around and he would have to keep a sharper eye on her.

His brows furrowed in focus when she shouted at someone to get what was referred to as ‘sawbone’ — was that a weapon? He was unsure but he would be on his guard. “Humans arrre skarrred of anything zat konsiderrred prrredatorrr. Be zat if zey eat zeirrr flesh orrr not,” He had no preference in speaking when it came down to it. English, Russian, or another language that he knew — he would understand the vague ideas of what others said.

“Zey arrre veaker speshies, unlike you and I,” SU 2775 spoke softly for his size and the semi-violent aggression that he showed to the individual who fell out.

Eden remained still, listening to his words and stumbling through some of the accent, while enhanced hearing could pick up humans scrambling below. The survivor who had gone to find Doctor Taylor was one thing, but others were mulling about and even livestock seemed uneasy. It made Eden remain in place, keeping herself as a barrier between this strange man and the camp. Instincts demand that she guard it, despite the fact that she also wanted to form the Link of Genesis between them.

“We do not eat humans, not here. Especially not after The Fall, when they are becoming rarer and rarer. We eat deer, cattle, chickens… Livestock and wildlife. Humans are not livestock.” She said. Looking down at herself, the woman twisted her left forearm in order to show one thing Genesis members had universally - their identifiers.

UK3080
Gen XXVI
1973

“We protect them, particularly those that are working to rebuild the world. Those are my orders. Protect Doctor Taylor and keep her safe. By extension, she has asked that I guard her stronghold as well.” Eden clarified, making sure to remain fairly still and speak calmly despite the gore smeared across this man's face from eating someone outside of the walls.

Below them, quick footsteps could be heard - two steps. One set belonged to the survivor sent along while the other, trying to keep up with the larger woman, was owned by a small redhead. Without her leather work apron, auburn strands had been caught up in a bun that was half-undone; worn skinny jeans ended at white and purple checkered Vans with a thin maroon long-sleeve shirt covering her top half.

“Who is down!?” The doctor called, only to stop in her tracks as Eden held up a hand to indicate the woman should stop running and stay in place.

“Will you allow her up here to tend the guard? She’s harmless.” Eden inquired, wanting to be sure.

SU 2775 was staring at the forearm that was extended out to him — UK 3080 Gen XXVI 1973 — and he listened to what she had to say. “Zey trrreated ourrr kind like livestock. I vas niet morrre zan animal to zem. How kan you defend zeirrr actions by rrrespectfully guarrrding zem?” In his mind, all humans treated him that way, because they did. Every human that he interacted with was a scientist, government official, or a handler. None of them were respectful and he could see how they looked at him. They looked at him like a tool to be used. At times, their eyes looked like they were staring at a filthy or deranged mutt while they were on him. He did not understand why Eden was listening to orders now that there was no one to control them.

Hearing about Doctor Taylor seemed to put him on edge, his body straightened up from how it was relaxing while talking to the woman, but his body language spoke a defensiveness that only awful memories could trigger. As there was a shout from below, his eyes almost looked empty while he was staring at the redheaded woman, and he barely heard what Eden said. “,Niet,” he shook his head in the negative as his eyes never left Doctor Taylor. It was hard to read his intentions but his breathing shifted.

“Niet, Doktorrrs. Niet, Doktorrr Teylorrr,” the man demanded as his eyes sharpened in a predatory way towards the small human below them. His body was showing self control over his impulsive thoughts. He wanted to hurt the doctor. He wanted to hurt every doctor — they were the ones that fucked him up.

Eden remained firmly fixed in place, unmoving as she watched SU 2775. Her violet eyes seemed to almost lose their luster as she shifted, her body naturally adjusting for a fight, as the other experiment regarded the small redhead. She would die defending the doctor if she had to, and there would be no hesitation to do it.

Doctor Taylor, on the other hand, shifted on her feet. Shoes scuffed on grass and sand, adjusting how she was standing as her thin neck craned to look up at the newcomer. The blood smearing his face disturbed her, making her heart begin to pound in her chest, and there was very little comfort in seeing Eden as a living barrier. He was massive comparably, which would make it quite the fight between them. Slowly, her small, worn hands lifted in front of her in a sign of surrender and lack of aggression. “I just need to make sure the man doesn’t have any major injuries.” The redhead said, softening her voice. After all, it was no secret to her that they had heightened senses and he would be able to hear her just fine. “Eden?”

Eden didn’t turn her back to SU 2775 as she stood there. “Yes, he is.” She answered first. “She isn’t that kind of doctor, she isn’t a handler. She’s a geneticist, but she doesn’t use us. Not like them.”

SU 2775’s eyes glanced over to Eden with sometype of humanity in them, it almost resembled fear, but it seemed like he wanted to trust her. He wanted to believe her words. Staring back down at the Doctor, he thought about it more, and he took another step back. Making sure there was more space between him and the other Genesis product.

That was when a sharp pain flashed through his mind and his eyes closed. A hand rose to touch his temple as if he was trying to sooth something. It hurts. It hurts so badly… The thoughts roamed around his mind as he could feel tears beginning to swell in his shut eyes. It was overpowering and indescribable.

Stepping back again, and another step, and another. SU 2775 was trying to create distance between him and Eden because he felt like her or the doctor was the cause of his pain. His breathing shifted to show how much pain he was in. Sharpening each breath as it started becoming shallow. His eyes opened with an intensity and locked right onto Edens, that was when everything went blurry.

This hurts… was the thought that got through to the link.

SU 2775’s body seemed to go limp without a moment's notice and he tumbled down the fortified wall quickly. His mass hitting the earth beneath him hard. There were uncomfortable sounding pops and cracks that came from him hitting the ground so hard and lifelessly. Except, he wasn’t still when he landed. There was something that sounded like a whine or groan when he hit the ground. His body was convulsing and he was beginning to foam at the mouth. Everything looked painful.

Eden’s brows furrowed at the man, trying to understand what was happening with the man. The instant the Link formed between them, a whirlwind of agony and mental fog hit the woman like a brick, making her stumble painfully against the railing. Dropping her face into her hands with a groan, the woman still managed to find enough strength to remain upright.

The thud on the other side of the fence, however, concerned Taylor more. Everything had changed so quickly and had happened all at once, making her look back and forth between Gomez, Eden, and the nearby gate. Huffing to herself, the woman had to think quickly about what to do - Gomez was likely fine and whatever was afflicting the strange man was also hurting Eden.

Stranger it was.

“Open the door!” Doctor Taylor’s voice boomed, issuing a command as she so rarely did, as long legs began to run for the entrance she needed open. It was akin to a cell door, allowing her to slip out of it far easier than if she had been needing to go out a proper gate. Feet pounded against the ground as she took off around the edge without her medical bag in hand. Thankfully, it didn’t take long to find the man, though her eyes were wide at his current state.

Practically slamming her knees into the earth, small hands reached out and quickly grasped the man’s clothing to haul him onto his side. Without thinking twice, his head was tucked onto her thigh for support. There was the possibility of him biting her or his hands scratching her, but that didn’t matter at the moment. Instead, reaching into her pocket, a bandana was pulled free and his face wiped free of foam and blood. Keen eyes were looking for further damages as best she could while he seized, using the strength she could in her significantly smaller body to have him stay in place.

“Easy. You’re not alone.” The doctor soothed, the hand holding the bandana dropping it to smooth through the man’s dark curls that honestly needed about three washes to get clean. It was strange, this moment - and dangerous.

By the time he was coming from the seizure, his whole body felt like it was in shock, and he was still trembling from the exhaustion that the convulsions caused his muscles. SU 2775 quickly sat up and jerked away from the doctor to create distance. “Vhat did you do to me!?” His voice was raised as his body began to hunch over in pain. He was trying to fight the pain as much as he could. A hand came up to cover his eyes from the prominent headache that was behind his blue orbs.

A painful whine was let out as he tried to not focus on any of it. It continued to hurt so much. Su 2775 attempted to get up and fell right onto his knees. His face in his hands as his forehead was brought to the ground. “Get avay frrrom me!” His tone was threatening and on edge. An extreme amount of pain echoed not only when he spoke but through his breathing and body language as well.

Brown eyes watched as the experiment wrenched away from her, though his body language spoke of extreme pain. He was crying out and curling around himself, and with their size difference combined with his Genesis… well, the next thing the doctor did could prove more than risky. It could cost the woman her life, but it was done anyway.

“Stop, you’re making it worse. You had a seizure, this is the aftermath of it. Just… let me. Don’t break my damn hands, I need them.” The woman said softly, taking the bandana and folding it so that the neatest fabric was on the outside. Rocking up to her knees, it was pressed ever so gently over his eyes as he was eased back to the ground, locking out the light of the world to ease some of the pain that came from the waves that came after human seizures. “You’re what we call postictal. You’re going to hurt and be confused even if you were a human, okay? I need you to be as still as you can.” She explained, trying to give the man information.

“I have some hydromorphone stored in my lab. That can help you, or I know that there was CBD being made too. Both will ease your pain some.”

His confusion was leading him to let his guard down as he was trying to make sense of the blurry shapes in his vision, the gloss over everything, and how noises were still meshing together after the seizure. He could not fully process anything. Thinking he had his face in his hands, the realization of fabric over his eyes hit him, and he tensed up. His one hand grabbing out and attaching to Doctor Taylor’s wrist, quite hard, as he was trying to find out where she and everything else around him was. What was his immediate environment? Was there danger? All these processes were being jumbled up in his mind and nothing was making sense.

‘Niet,” was what he got out of his thoughts. The individual was telling him that they had drugs that he could use. He did not want drugs. Shallow breathing was something that appeared to be constant with him. SU 2775 was trying to calm down and absorb his environment before a painful electricity ran up and down his spine which caused him to exhale and struggle to breath. Pain wanted to vocally come out but the gasps of air leaving his lungs were the only thing that came to fruition.

That was when he lost his hearing, he couldn’t hear anything, and his vision began to darken before agony came over his body again. He assumed that he was going back into what caused him to fall off from the wall protecting the camp.

No. It was not. SU 2775’s body shut down and he lost consciousness when all his nerves began to feel like he was on fire and extreme pain flooded his whole system from Genesis trying to heal the broken parts of his body.

A gasp of pain escaped the doctor when fingers wrapped tightly around her wrist, making agony blossom in the joints and flesh. He could have hurt her so much worse, she knew - but he held back enough to keep from breaking her. His body displayed anger as much as fear, and it was honestly kinder when consciousness fled him and the big man went limp on the ground.

Above, Eden finally was able to take a full, shuddering breath as the pain in her own head eased from something resembling the worst migraine imaginable to a bare headache. Bringing herself to the edge and looking down, the sight of Taylor with the Russian man made her twist, jumping over the razor wire to land next to the doctor with a roll to absorb the impact without injury. “What would you have me do?”

Taylor slipped the experiment’s fingers from her wrist slowly, her head shaking a little bit. “Help me get him inside. He needs medical attention and… frankly, a bath.” She said.

Eden nodded, grabbing onto SU 2775’s top to begin dragging the man inside without decorum. It was by her strength that the man was brought to the Workshop - stripped of his clothes, bathed with good soap and water, and tucked into the bed in the back of the doctor’s living and working space in a pair of clean boxers with her blankets over him. The space was too small for him to stretch out, but at least it would be comfortable and he was in a place where it was safe.

---

Collaboration with @Vixere
Characters - SU 2775, Doctor Taylor, & UK 3080

[BearlyAllThere]

The sky loomed ominously overhead, a thick canopy of gray that seemed to press down on the deserted streets below. As Sawyer and Freya approached the auto part store on the outskirts of town, the air grew heavier, tinged with the metallic scent of rain yet to fall.

The store itself stood as a testament to neglect, its walls pockmarked with the ravages of time, windows shattered and gaping like open wounds. The faded sign swayed slightly in the breeze, its cheerful promises of sales and service now just a cruel joke in the silent world.

Inside, the smell of motor oil was overpowering, mixed with the musty odor of mold and the faint, unsettling scent of decay—a reminder of the store's last frantic days. Shelves were overturned, parts scattered like the bones of a mechanical graveyard. The air was thick with dust, each step stirring up particles that danced in the beams of their flashlights.

"Stay sharp. We might not be alone," Sawyer whispered, his voice a low rumble in the stale air. Freya nodded, her eyes scanning the shadows as she stepped carefully over a fallen beam.

Her flashlight caught the edge of a box under a table, half-hidden by debris. Pulling it out, she found spark plugs, filters, and hoses—essentials for keeping their equipment operational. "Found some filters and plugs!" she radioed to Sawyer, her voice low but clear.

"Good find. Check this out," came Sawyer's reply from the back of the store. Freya made her way to him, passing through an aisle cluttered with car manuals and broken tools. He was standing next to an old electric utility cart, its once-bright paint dulled by dust and grime.

"It's solid, but needs work. Flat tires, dead battery, and the wiring's a mess," Sawyer assessed, pointing out the frayed wires and deflated tires.

"We'll need the right tools to fix it up," Freya noted, her mind already cataloging what they'd need to bring or find. They agreed to return later, and with the cart noted as a future project, they continued their search.

Further into the store, Sawyer discovered a locked toolbox. "Could be something valuable in here," he said, his flashlight highlighting the rust around the lock.

As they delved deeper into the workshop area, the smell of oil grew stronger, mixing with a sharper scent of rust and rubber. Each shelf and cabinet held potential, their contents a mystery to be solved by their persistent search.

Their exploration was a slow dance of light and shadow, their flashlights sweeping over surfaces cluttered with the remnants of a world that no longer needed repairs, only rebirth. With every discovery, the store revealed more of its secrets, the smell of decay a constant reminder of what they had lost and what they still hoped to reclaim.

[The Savant]

&

Roman Egorova

---

The project did not know how long he spent with Doctor Taylor, though his eyes opened before her, and he wondered if he should stay or not. She had been in his arms for hours. His blue eyes watched her sleeping presence before he pressed a kiss to the side of her head, “I vill be back,” he whispered to her before pressing a kiss to her temple. She seemed to appreciate the attention though he wasn’t sure about any of it.

Snuggling into her, his head rubbed up against hers, and he held her for a little tighter — he didn’t want to let her go or stop this flaring moment. He enjoyed it too much. This will end the thoughts roamed through his mind as he stared at her unmoving face. Fingers gently moved hair away from her face as he stared at her for a little longer.

“Please be herrre vhen I get back,” he whispered one more thing before pressing a kiss to her cheek and slowly getting up. SU 2775 was trying his best to not wake her up or disturb her at all. Moving out of the bed, he noticed his clothes were neatly folded on a platform in the room. When did those get here? He did not remember anyone coming into the room but he didn’t realize that he was decompressing with the woman so much that he was completely out of it.

An uncomfortable sensation flooded his body as he decided to get dressed in everything that he had. Making sure he was ready to face the camp or the outside world once again. He was hungry. He wasn’t allowed to eat anyone in the camp so he was going to have to go outside again.

By the time he exited the researchers home and workspace, he noticed the ominously looming sky which casted a canopy of gray which was only darkening the world around him. Was it going to storm? Possibly. It might have been getting late out along with the fog to cause such an effect.

---

SU 2775 was not with anyone at first. He decided to leave the camp without notifying anyone since he was hungry along with wanting to do a few other things. The problem was that he could hear the echoing footsteps of the area that he found himself in. He could sense multiple people around, alive, but he was focusing on the footsteps that echoed out farther away from the group of what sounded like two other individuals — heavier.

Picking up a rusty crowbar lying around, the man quickly swung it, hitting it right against a metal beam, and missing the individual he was stalking for the last little while. A gasp of surprise and hard to vocalized shock echoed out into the rest of the area. “What the hell are you doing!?” The skinny young man asked while putting distance between him and the larger beast.

“Where did you even come from!? Have you been stalking me!?” Roman decided to jump up onto a fallen shelf and grab an attachment to the building to hoist himself up to get away from the giant that was trying to attack him.

SU 2775 patiently watched the younger man climb up higher to get away from him, “You make too much noise. You vill be eaten by something else if not me,” The Genesis project calmly stated while watching Roman move around and try to distance himself as far as possible. Until he froze.

Roman’s eyes were wide, “What the fuck do you mean you’ll eat me!?” The young man looked horrified at this point. “People don’t eat people. Why are you eating people!?” The boy decided to jump and catch onto a rafter before pulling himself up into it. He found himself in the buildings high up metal rafters and what he assumed to be safely away from the man that tried to smash his skull in with a crowbar out of nowhere.

“I kan eat people. Outside of kamp and you arrre outside of it,” Those were what was said earlier. He cannot eat people inside the camp or bring the body parts of people he was eating to the camp because people did not want to hear or see it.

Hiding his smaller body up in the rafters where SU 2775 couldn’t see him, his heart was pounding against his ribcage, and wanting to come out of his chest. He began to mutter in Russian, a prayer, since he didn’t know what else he should do as he held onto the pendant around his neck. That was when he looked back down to see that the gigantic man was gone. His brows furrowed in confusion before he yelped in surprise and felt his body swing into the void.

That was when Roman switched from English to Russian, “Please. Please. Please. Do not drop me. Do not eat me. I promise, I can be useful in some way or some fashion,” Roman was begging as quickly as he could process that his leg was caught and he wasn’t falling out of the rafters to a brutal death. He noticed the larger man had one of his ankles in hand while he dangled there like a toy. “I can cook you something. I’m not horrible at cooking. I can hunt. Do you like boar or like… I don’t know, fish? I can fish for you and feed you. Just please, please, please, do not eat me,” Roman was in full panic mode.

Hearing the boy switch to Russian surprised him as he allowed the teenager to dangle there, “You speak Russian?” He sounded a little surprised with the question.

“Are you insane? That is the question you got from me begging for my life?” Roman threw his hands up in the air — downward? It was hard to articulate what was happening as he let his body go limp as he wasn’t trying to fight and get dropped. “Yes, I speak Russian. Why does that stand out so much to you?” Roman questioned while looking up at the stranger who wanted to eat him.

That was when he felt his body being pulled back up into the rafters. “Please. Let me down. I don’t want to be eaten,” Roman began to beg even more since the face of the predator that was staring at him was not comforting for him at all.

“You want to be dropped on your head?” SU 2775 asked while loosening his grip to cause Roman to drop a little more and a gasp to come out of him.

“Oh god! No! NO! That is not what I meant. Please do not drop me for god sake. Please do not. I want to live,” That was when SU 2775 dragged him back into the rafters and made sure he was safely on one of the connecting frames so he wouldn’t fall off easily.

---

Mentions @Vixere Doctor Taylor
Interactions @The Savant Roman
Characters Close by to scene @BearlyAllThere Sawyer & Freya

[BearlyAllThere]

Sawyer Graves

As they navigated the cluttered, shadow-filled aisles of the old warehouse, the scent of decay mixed with stale motor oil hung heavy in the air. The distant sounds of a struggle or confrontation pulled Sawyer and Freya deeper into the dimly lit depths. Turning a corner, they were met with a scene that tightened Sawyer's jaw immediately.

Above them, a young man—clearly just a teenager—clung desperately to the rafters, his fear palpable as he negotiated for his life. Below him, the towering figure of SU2775 loomed, a known figure among the Genesis survivors but now seen in a disturbing new light.

Sawyer's usual composure slipped into a frown, his voice carrying a sharp edge as he addressed the scene. "Ease off, Comrade Cannibal," he called out sternly, his use of the nickname biting rather than playful. "He’s just a kid."

Freya stepped up beside him, her expression hard as she surveyed the tense standoff, her instincts as a protector coming to the fore.

Freya Eriksson

"Leave him alone, now," Freya commanded, her voice firm and authoritative, leaving no room for misinterpretation. The gravity of the situation was not lost on her; a minor was in potential danger, and her tone reflected her immediate concern.

The young man's pleas echoed off the warehouse walls, his voice cracking with terror as he begged not to be harmed. It was a stark reminder of the stakes in their new world, where even the young were not spared from fear and violence.

Sawyer's eyes didn't stray from SU2775, his stance rigid with tension. "This isn’t what we stand for," he added forcefully, hoping his words might diffuse the situation without escalating to violence.

Freya remained alert, her body tensed for action, ready to step in if the verbal intervention failed. She glanced at Sawyer, sharing a brief look that conveyed both their readiness to act and their mutual concern for the teenager's safety.

"Seems we got here just in time," Sawyer muttered to Freya, his voice low, an undercurrent of anger still lacing his words as they stood ready to intervene further if necessary.

Freya shifted her attention to the boy. "I am Fre- I am SW017. Are you alright? Freya was never sure what to call herself. Sawyer insisted on calling her Freya but she truthfully answered to just about anything anyone wanted to call her. "Doctor Taylor should get a look at you. Are you alone? It is not safe to travel alone.

"Especially with Comrade Cannibal looking for his next snack," Sawyer grumbled but stopped when Freya cut a disapproving look at him.

[The Savant]

&

Roman Egorova

His expression might have been pretty neutral though the way he looked at the other two adults talking to him would give anyone the impression that this Genesis project was extremely offended by their presence. Why couldn’t they mind their own business? It wasn’t like he was going to eat him now. The child practically begged him out of it and spoke Russian which was something that was stopping him… for now.

“ Komrrrade Kannibal?” SU 2775 spat out as he looked back to Roman. He quickly rolled his eyes at the comment — He’s just a kid. — so what if he is a kid? An adult. Or whatever he is. He is still food.

His blue eyes sharpened with furrowed brows, he still had a hold of Roman’s ankle, and he was holding it a little too tightly at this point. Roman whimpered, “Can you ease up?” he politely choked up those words. “ I think you are going to break my ankle…” A light gasp could be heard when he shifted his form because of the pain he was feeling from the grip.

SU 2775 shook his head, “Mhm…” He did not know where to begin with the other two adults yapping at him because he couldn’t find the English words that they would understand. When Freya brought up Doctor Taylor, that was when he loosened his grip on Roman, and Roman nodded while bringing his knees to his chest. “My whole family has passed away for one or another reason,” He shakingly breathed out. His adrenaline was going crazy. His heart felt like it was going to explode.

“W-w-who is —” Before Roman could get anything else out, he was being yanked up and falling. A scream echoed in the building though SU 2775 did not drop him — he was hanging onto the boy when he jumped down and landed perfectly. Roman hung there with the back of his clothing all scrunched up as he hung by it in the Genesis Project’s hand.

The man waved them away, “Go away,” He huffed out as he began to carry Roman off. Roman just looked terrified because he believed that the man holding him would eat him. “Ca-can you guys please help me. I don’t want to be eaten,” he began to beg as he began to struggle. Grabbing at SU 2775’s wrist and arm.

“Kamp,” The tall man stated as he looked back at the other adults before continuing.

---

Interactions Roman {myself} and @BearlyAllThere Freya & Sawyer.