The room was warm. Unnaturally so.
As the metallic whirs of a ceiling fan resounded all throughout, an annoying tinge struck my spirit, and continued clawing at me despite my best efforts to push it back. At first, it was like something were pricking my skin, until it started stabbing, gnawing, and bleeding me dry.
Along with this, something started to rise up–sprawling inside my gut, thrashing around like a parasite hungry for food.
My stomach churned, feeling the discomfort shift into that of intense flame, singeing my guts and clenching my chest. With bloodshot eyes, I wrench my stomach with both hands, bending down almost autonomously.
Fuck, this hurts!
What the hell's going on?
A cold? Nah, not when I'm more res-tech than bio. Could be a metal virus. After all, I've been hanging around shady crowds more frequently.
But then, that wouldn't explain the physical sensation. Takes some hi-tech QuScope to be able to jack someone's cognisphere network.
"Something wrong?" a voice questioned. Subtly, I posture myself, taking time to lean against the back of the chair I'm seated in. Hopefully, the pain will die down.
"Yeah, I'm coolin', dad. Don't worry about it." Letting my right arm fall behind the chair, I look to the opposite wall. It's blank. Boring. Just a long panel of steel, or whatever junk makes up houses these days. Not too different from me. "Let's not worry about me, 'kay?"
His face dropped, like someone hearing bad news. I ignored him, kicking back on my chair. By then, the pain in my stomach left.
Enveloped by the silence in the room, I scanned my dad's face more carefully. His hair was dark--scarily so. It was like peering into the night sky, only with all the light pollution keeping you from observing the stars. Coupled with that was his broad shoulders, accompanied by wiry limbs of muscle and brawn.
A bit intriguing, considering that most bio-gear is made to be thin and agile. A great defense against stray projectiles, I'm told. Though, I suppose he may not buy into all the new tech coming out.
His face, wrinkly as it is, is still quite inviting. His eyebrows have a natural curvature to them that make it look like he is always happy, and his eyes--dark and bold--carry with them the sensation of the universe. Like an ocean of knowledge rests within him.
He's a living contradiction. At times, I find myself feeling jealous... because he's the good kind.
"Son, you know, you can't do this forever."
As soon as his words reach me, a wave of emotion washes over me. My eyes drop to the empty vial on his bed, embedded in a wide, metallic chamber that has a bloodied needle at its end. "Ah, stop it. I can spend my time however I want."
Dad shook his head. "No, you can't."
I shuddered. "What? I'm making my own money now--"
"That's not what I mean," he said, pushing up from his bed. It took him a moment, and he was shaking through it all. "You, and your sister. You deserve better than this."
His speech stalled, and his chest heaved. It looked like something were caught in his throat. Then, he entered a violent bout of coughing.
Shit, his virus is getting worse!
I leaned in, but he waved me off, even pushing me back a couple inches. Even though he balled the hand covering his mouth, I could still see droplets of violet beneath.
"Guah... my time is limited on this earth, and you both have so much potential. Every second you spend here is a second you don't get back, and you'll realize once you get to my age... each one matters."
I truly wanted to say something, but I couldn't find the words.
"Come on, dad. You think I'd rather be mixing sparks with the slabrats instead of being here? This time ain't wasted, so stop being all condensed." I tried my best at a smile, but I could tell it wasn't all that great.
He shook his head. "You know what I mean, Snow. You truly have the potential to make it out of the Slab and get a real life."
I took a deep breath, then glanced over to the corner of the room, where a bundle of sheets laid. Pixel, my sister, was wrapped nicely between them, fast asleep. With her brown hair braided into a sort of halo, she was awfully cute. Especially for an eight year old.
"What about her, hm? You think she'd agree to sum'n like that?"
"No matter what, she'll listen to you. Even if not now." With a sigh, dad shifted back down to his sheets. "Snow, truly, I'm grateful. There's not a thing in this world that I'm more proud of than you. But you have to let me go."
No way.
I scoffed away his words. "Yeah, yeah." Then, I stood up from my chair, pacing towards the door across the room. "Talk to me when you stop being all gloomy."
Looking back at dad just one last time, there was a certain emotion caught in his eyes. Not pain or sadness, but something else. Still, it made me feel like my heart turned blue.
There was a paper at the side of his bed. As I turned to face the door, I could see him pick it up.
I didn't inquire.
"Come on, Pixel. Get." As I tapped her shoulder, her eyes shot open.
"Huh?" she mused, looking around at her surroundings. "Oh, I shut down. How long has it been?"
I smiled. "Not that long."
"Really? Then has daddy gotten his medicine?"
"Yeah, but it's looking like we're gonna have to get him more." Forcefully, I gripped her hands. Needed to get going before dad said anything.
"Wait!" he yelled from behind. "Please, stop!"
He was yelling because of the things I have to do to get this medicine. Still, they're a necessary means to an end.
I didn't acknowledge him, blasting through the door with Pixel close behind. He doesn't appreciate it now, but I'll show him!
As soon as the door closed behind me by itself, I looked to my left, then my right. It was the living room. At one end, everything was metal; the doors, the tables, the chairs, the walls, even the windows, weird as that is.
Things weren't like this fifteen years ago, but I suppose that we've entered a little bit of a 'technological renaissance,' as the news calls it.
It'll take some getting used to.
"Will daddy get better?" Pixel asked, holding onto my hand even tighter.
I paused for a second. Truthfully, I didn't know, but still, I gave her my biggest smile. "Of course he will. He's dad, after all. No virus can beat him!"
Pixel smiled back, walking up to hug my right leg. She only went up to my waist, so it only made it that much more adorable when she'd try to hug me. I wrapped my own arms around her.
"Really? Then will things return to normal soon?" she asked once more. I held her tighter.
"Yes, they will. Dad will get better, and things will be exactly as they were. We'll be able to live as one big family, and we might even be able to plan a trip to the moon."
"The moon?" Pixel's eyes were bright with excitement. I could even feel a little bit of her emotion bleed into me.
"Yeah. The moon."
She left my embrace, then tilted her face with disbelief. "But what about the big, viral thingies?"
"The DEVAs?" I responded.
"Yeah, them! Don't they live on the moon?"
I was surprised she even knew what the DEVAs are. The government usually does a good job keeping that information censored. "Well, you know, they live on earth too. The difference is that there's domes built to protect us from them. That's what we live in now."
Her face lit with understanding. "Ohhh! Then we'll be safe from them even if we go to the moon?"
"Yeah." I chuckled lightly. "We'll be safe."
Quickly, I grabbed her by her armpits, then raised her into the air. She yelled with exhilaration, getting louder as she begun to spin through the air.
"But don't you worry! Even if the domes don't protect us, there's still NADE!" I exclaimed, bobbing her up and down as she spun. My laughter combined with hers.
"Hahaha, NADE will protect us!"
"That's right!"
Slowly, I lowered her to the ground, letting her take a breather from all her screaming.
NADE, the ones who take down the DEVA threat. Even though I've never seen them, I owe my life to them. We owe our lives to them.
And although I'd originally said it to cheer Pixel up, I truly do believe that it can be done.
That our lives can return to how they were before. When we were happy. When our father was better.
And I'll make it happen. For that good future.