"Phase Two will now begin. The test will resume. Michael Grant, take center stage."
Mikey sighs and walks to the middle of the empty concrete arena floor. He looks up at the Brass and Isaak. Mikey squares his shoulders, stepping into the middle of the arena. He tilts his head back toward the box.
"You gonna throw another damn animal at me? Maybe a tiger this time, more to your liking?!" he shouts, voice dripping sarcasm. It makes the Brass members laugh, not at the joke but by how off the mark he is. Isaak doesn't react, e simply raises the microphone to his lips.
"Funny. Now-"
The other tunnel opens and two soldiers roll a long metal board into the center stage. Mikey looks at it confused, then they prop it up, it is a restraint board with leather straps. Another two soldiers roll out a big box and lay it down next to the board. They pry it open and take out several items: a sack of some sort of purple fluid, a foldable table to prop up, and finally a monitor of some kind with tubes dangling from it. They set it up quickly, efficiently, like a routine. Bobo leans froward, his thick eyebrows furrowed.
"What the hell is that..."
Luce shakes her head. "I got no clue."
Amelia crosses her arms, deciding to join in on the confusion. "This doesn't feel right…"
Tobi's eyes widen, answers creeping into his mind. "I think... that's diluted Linnium..."
Bobo leans over to glance at him, he speaks like Tobi just slapped his mother. "The hell you talking about?"
Tobi goes on, stammering at the sudden attention. "Uh... L-Linnium is a s-solute, you mix that with, per say, I dunno, acetone or methanol and you get a diluted Linnium. Purple in color." Tobi glances and sees all of them staring at him in a silent awe and confusion. "What? I studied it while I was in Rossen, before it got all... you know blown up by the Council. I like to learn, geez. But anyway, it's used a lot over there."
Amelia looks at him. "What does it do, Tobs?"
"It's uh... it's a drug. For junkies. B-But I've never seen that much... Normally, it's like… a teaspoon. That—" he points at the swollen sack of fluid—"that's a gallon."
Luce looks worried. "What kind of drug?"
"A uh... a-a psychedelic."
Isaak gives Mikey more directions.
"Now, get in the restraint board."
Mikey furrows an eyebrow until two soldiers seize him, strapping him tight. Leather digs into his chest, arms, legs, until he can barely move. A monitor clip bites onto his finger.
'What the hell is going on?"
Isaak resumes his directions:
"All you need to know for this test is this. Phase One was testing your skill. This test measures your mind. Your heart-rate will be evaluated by that monitor. If it gets too high and you can't control your emotions, it'll beep. You get two beeps and you fail. Lose control of your emotions, and you're finished. Now, your test will begin. Good luck young man."
Mikey glares upward. "What the hell am I in this thing for?! You gonna answer me?!"
One of the four soldiers walks over with a IV, the line snakes back to the heavy sack of purple fluid. The needle pierces his arm, instantly making the purple liquid slide into his veins.
"I said answer me goddamit-"
Black.
---
Light.
It burns against his closed eyelids. Mikey stirs, sluggish, every limb heavy. His head pounds and he feels tired as hell. A voice cuts through the haze, too loud, too close.
"Good Morning to you all! It's another beautiful day in the Capital. Our Secretary of Defense, Payne Morrison, announced today that it is indeed safe to travel to Sectors H and K. That is, the fiends of the vile regime called 'Defector' have finally been forced out."
'What's that noise...'
"He also reminds us that anyone can be a 'Defector'- your mom, your friends, or even YOU. That is all for this morning..."
'Ah... my head..."
"Forever the Council Shall Reign."
Mikey's eyes shoot open, he sees a chrome ceiling with red lining. He sits up slowly, a sliver of light pierces through the gap in a heavy iron curtain, casting a pale streak across his light olive skin. Mikey looks around, his eyes wide. It's a bedroom, a certain bedroom. A bedroom he has seen many times, it's his bedroom: his bed, his desk, posters on the walls, his lamp, his cluttered floor. Mikey stands up, looking around in a daze.
"Huh..."
He sees his calendar, taped on his bedroom wall, and walks towards it. His steps are slow and cautious. He squints as he leans in to read the date. Upon reaching it, his finger glides over it looking for the date. His finger landed on today, the lines reading:
"May 25, 2244"
And inside that little box, labeled in marker:
"GRADUATION DAY! 12:30 PM! DON'T BE LATE…DAD WILL KILL YOU…"
Mikey stares at it. His lips part. His voice comes out as a broken whisper.
"My graduation day... what the hell..."