Divided we Fall

< Getting Screwed

## Melissa

"It's me. It's Steven." The boy said to Melissa. "Your brother." She looked at him confused trying to break pass the barrier in her mind keeping her memories from her.

The sound of giggling filled the air as the room was spinning, when a voice she knew as Steven spoke. "Okay, I think that's enough, Mel, before you make us both sick." She realized her arms were around his neck as she was against his back, she was quite small, she must have been around the age of 10. He had been twirling them around. She giggled sliding off her brother's back. "Awe, Stevie you poor-sport!" She pouted. He laughed ruffling her hair. "Love you too, kiddo."

She looked at him as the flashback ended, tears flooding her eyes. She ran over to him hugging him tightly, whispering. "Stevie."

Stephen embraced her in his arms, overcome with emotion. Holding back the tears, he questioned, "What happened to you?"

"What happened to me?" Melissa repeated the question as tears ran down her face. "I- my friends. They're dead and it's all my fault. If I would have just stayed with them..." She gripped onto Steven, sobbing, to where the words she spoke could barely be made out.

Stephen hugged Melissa tightly. "Don't worry, you're safe with me. What happened to your friends?"

"W-we were in an accident... Then this beast this ugly thing just came from no where Savannah just ran.. it all happened so fast... I left... I left them behind when I should've stayed and helped but when I was gonna come back I heard one yell I knew that killed them... so I continued to run away til I came to this please." She said through her quivering voice as tears rolled down her cheeks soaking Stephen's shirt as she held tightly onto her brother for comfort.

Stephen held Melissa tightly. "There's a chance your friends are still alive. I can help you find them."

She looked at him surprised. "T-there is?" She questioned in her quivering voice.

Steven gave her a comforting smile. "Yeah, there is.. I promise everything's going to be alright." He gave her a gentle hug then stepped back.

She nodded wiping away the tears and paused to gather herself. "We have to go look for them then."

## Chris

Chris arose from the debris, desperately trying to straighten out his arms and legs. "If only I'd been aware the automobile hijacked by our faction met its demise at these precise coordinates..." He looked towards the city looming overhead, its beautiful silver light still shining in the broad shadow of the sun. "Excellent fortune," Chris said, as he made his way to the gate.

Fortunately for Chris, there were no guards or any other obstacles to be seen as he carefully leaned on the steel gate of the city and activated his plasma sword.

Chris had never used it to break through steel before, but decided it couldn't hurt. As he brushed the plasma weapon against the bar, however, he suddenly realized the whole idea was foolish. Why not use the one ability he dreaded to use the most?

Granted, it has been a while, and losing most of his memories didn't help, but the reason he still retained a memory of having this ability must have been important. He cautiously flicked his neck switch into the Super-Strength mode, and was almost immediately overwhelmed by his hostile side.

Despite lacking the ability to think straight in this mode, Chris successfully burst open the entrance gate. Since he did not want to be caught, he left the gate wide open and ran into the city, adjusting his switch so that it both disabled his super-strength and looked like a mere mole on his neck.

As he was running, he heard what sounded vaguely like a police siren, and ran into the nearest building to seek cover.

Lost and confused, Chris took a look at the building he was in. It appeared to be some sort of bookstore. Maybe he could stay there to recover from the recent craziness that had befallen him, maybe even find his friends. A man with a large mustache then approached him.

”Excuse me, sir, are you lost?” Warren Hughes asked Chris.

”My precise coordinates are unidentifiable, so absolutely,” Chris backed away, a bit bothered that Warren was inching towards him.

”I’m not gonna hurt you, just saying, a lot of people are lost these days. Mighty funny way of talking you got there,”

Chris relaxed a bit, and then realized Warren had said something that could prove a liability to him.

”You proclaimed you had been company to lost individuals?” Chris prayed he could find the others.

”I have seen one,” Warren looked at Chris with a puzzled look. “A girl with long brown hair,”

Chris wondered if it could be Savannah or Melissa, but didn’t get the chance to ask Warren about it.

”I need to go now, nice meeting you,” Warren said.

”Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Chris said, as Warren open the door and headed out.

## Atticus and Marshall

The strong smell of freshly-cooked food filled the air as Atticus and Marshall turned around the corner of the street and headed near the café. The café was a large out-door restaurant lined with a circular counter wrapping around cooking machinery and cooks who were working steadily on their creations. The counter itself was covered in plates filled with food, with waiters calling out and people walking from sitting behind wooden tables placed in front and around the counter to get their orders.

"Like what the heck, man?” Marshall eagerly said to Atticus as they walked closer. “Those guards were so, ugh."

Atticus stopped walking and sighed, slamming his palm against his forehead. "You’ve been going on about them for hours now. You’re driving me insane. Can’t you focus on something else?"

"Like what?" Marshall exclaimed, stopping his walk as well and throwing his arms in the air.

"I don’t know? How about you just shut up and look around this café for something?"

"Hmph, fine."

The two continued walking again, walking right up to the counter and being handed two menus by a waitress.

"Hmm, the food here looks good," Atticus said, looking over the menu. “But we don’t have any money, so-"

Marshall chuckled, throwing his head back slightly and looking over at Atticus. "We don’t need money, ha. Just follow my lead."

After ordering food and sitting down at a table close to the counter, Marshall began a small talk with Atticus, who sat on the other side of the table.

"How do you think the others are doing?"

Atticus stared back at Marshall, thinking over the question while holding his hand against the side of his face.

After a few minutes of silence, Atticus went back to eating his meal.

"Uh, well?" Marshall asked.

"They are probably well, wherever they are." Atticus said slowly, further in thought.

Upon completing their meal, Atticus stood up from the table and ran his hands down his face. "Alright, so how are we going to pay now?"

Marshall, still seated, chucked.

"We're not."

"Uh," Atticus began, looking over his shoulder and back at the cafe. "We can't just steal food."

"We can and we did," Marshall said as he got up from the table as well. "Now let's go."

He began to walk away. "Either come with me or stand there looking like a fool."

As Atticus began to walk off with him, he heard a loud shout, clearly from a man, from behind. "HEY! You can't just leave without paying!!"

"Shit!" Marshall exclaimed as he started to sprint off back towards the street they had come from.

Atticus began to follow him, hearing the shouts of the cafe workers as they started to run towards the two.

"Atticus, wait!" A female voice shouted, stopping Atticus in his tracks. "Huh?" He thought, "How did they-"

Something seemed familiar about the voice, but he couldn't recall where he had heard it.

"Dude, run!" Marshall yelled, looking back at him. Atticus, shaking his head, ignored the girl's shout and followed behind Marshall, disappearing into a crowd of people walking among the streets.

Marshall navigated through the crowds of people, occasionally looking back to see if Atticus was still behind him.

Finally, Marshall exited the crowd into an alleyway, Atticus soon followed. Seemingly losing the angry workers, Marshall seated himself on a crate.

Upon following, Atticus knelt to the ground next to the crate, placing his hand on it for support and watching the busy crowd flow passed the alleyway entrance.

"So, what are we going to do now that we're thieves? How are we even going to find the others?"

“We run.” Marshall looked around at his surroundings. He saw a few trash cans, bags, old newspapers, and a dumpster. Then he spotted some old clothes, hanging on the corner of the dumpster. “Here, put this on.” He said as he handed Atticus a ragged shirt. Marshall fished another shirt out from the dumpster and put it on.

"What are you doing? Why do I need this?" Atticus asked, standing up and taking the shirt, looking down at it.

“We need to find out where we are but we can’t be spotted. Chances are, we’ve already been reported to the cops.” Marshall paused for a moment. “All I know is that we will find the others.”

"I guess you're right, but maybe we should stay here for a bit and get some rest?" Atticus suggested as he quickly changed shirts. "I want to find the others just as much as you do, but we need to make sure we don't tire ourselves out."

Marshall nodded in agreement. “I suggest we find somewhere to stay, unless you want to stay in this crumby alleyway with the rats.” Marshall looked down. He saw a strange coin and picked it up. He glanced at it and shoved it in his pocket.

"I think staying here would be our best option for now, as you said we could have already been reported."

Atticus looked back out into the street, keeping an eye on anyone that came near.

"By the way, there's something I want to mention to you. It's kind of bothering me."

”What is it?” Marshall asked. He got up and started looking around the dumpster and trash. He pulled up some cardboard. He laid the cardboard on some crates and grabbed some trash bags. He stuffed some paper trash into the bags and placed them on the cardboard.

"Well, earlier, when we were at the cafe, I swear I heard a girl call my name out. It's so weird. I just can't make sense of it."

Atticus placed his hand against his mouth, getting deeper into thought.

"Literally cannot remember anything before waking up at that barn. Did she know me from before that or something?"

“That’s strange. Maybe there’s just something wrong with your hearing and vision.” Marshall made another makeshift cardboard cot and pillow on the over side of the alleyway by the trash cans. “Welcome to our new home.” Marshall fished a bottle from behind the dumpster and placed it by the trash cans. “There’s our toilet.”

"I don't think so, I am certain I heard it clear as day."

Atticus sat down on one of the crates and stared at the bottle with a blank expression, thinking over various insults to call Marshall over suggesting such a thing as their toilet.

”If you say so.”

Marshall looked over at his cot. Something caught his eye in between two crates. It was a pair of rusty scissors. He picked them up and put them in his left pocket.

## Baptiste

An overseer Alchem Guard, Alfred Hermann, was checking the rooms at dusk, as the training facility prepared to lock up for the night. "Let's see..." said the overseer. "Alright -- number 2, android Mueller is here... number 3, android Kranz.... number 4, Jean..." He looked at his clipboard, ensuring that all androids were in the training facility.

Everything seemed to be going fine, but he noticed something quite strange. "Alright, there's number 37, number 38... 39?" It seemed that he did not count Android 39. He double checked each room, but no 39. Irritated, he went to the intercom and broadcasted: "Android 39, I am looking for Android 39." After several minutes, no response.

The overseer was quite bewildered. A missing android? He went to the Site Director's office, and informed him of the missing android.

"We have a missing droid?" said Baptiste, the Site Director. "Seems so Baptiste -- I mean, this is unheard of, we make sure that every one of the droids are accounted for throughout the day?" said Hermann. "Eh, this is simple. I'll pop up the cameras."

The two Alchem officers looked through the facility's cameras, and sure enough -- "Hold on, hold on. LOOK at this shot, Alfred."

"Is that... is that some Droid with a guard uniform? He seems to have a very rushed red hair do."

"What the HELL! WHO is this!" said Alfred, angry. "I believe I saw him, that special one... I saw him, I saw 'em before... Wellington, a Chris Wellington....." pondered Baptiste.

"Get the search team, get the vehicles -- we got some bounty to catch."

Baptiste gathered a small crew onto a Hummingbird, preparing a flash search party to track down the defiant Android.

Baptiste himself went in his personally customized Advanced Power Armor MK II -- a magnificent piece of Alchem. technology, capable of withstanding onslaughts of projectiles. His armor dawns no helmet, and is painted with red and white.

The small crew, armed with Alchem HI-Power laser rifles, would be responsible for incapacitating, capturing, and relocating Chris Wellington to continue his training at the facility.

The crew found a place on the outskirts of the city, where they believed Wellington to be located; based on their tracking devices.

With their weapons ready, they placed the Hummingbird to return to Alchem in autopilot; and they dove down into the city.

The crew arrived in Siliva, ready to begin their task.

"Certainly a beautiful city, isn't it everyone? The tracking says that he was around here, but I couldn't get the exact place. I'm sure you all know exactly what we need to do." said Baptiste.

"A simple 'ackin o' the sys'm gon' do the trick, I'll get the stuff." responded one of the guards.

With the amount of technology available to Alchem, broadcasting a signal into a city was of no difficulty. The crew took out an Alchem. tablet -- a miniature computer of great power.

"We've hit the jackpot here -- these Silivians ought to invest in better security. I mean, come on now. Easy firewall evasion, place the trojan, and..."

Then there was nothing.

In an instant, all of the televisions in Siliva were cut off. Digital billboards -- blank. Phone calls -- cut off. Radios -- to static. Shocked, the population of Siliva stopped what they were doing, murmuring amongst themselves. Some were confused, others, horrified.

Then, there was something. Televisions and billboards lit up once more -- but with the Alchem logo. Static began to subside on radios. The police force wanted to do something, but they feared what could happen going against Alchem corporation. At once, a loud voice could be heard across the entire city. An omnipresent voice, Baptiste began speaking from the city's televisions, speakers, and radios. The citizens in the sector he was in drew their attention onto him, listening to his words.

"Fine weather today, isn't it? Hope you've all had a good day. Now, now, yes, I am of Alchem Corp, and I'm sure you've all made up rumors and such or whatever -- but trust me, we do not want any trouble. We're just here to pick up something. Now, if you see what appears to be a teenager, 5'4, blue eyes, with peach colored skin, and who calls themselves 'Chris Wellington', you will bring them to me. Please don't try to compromise yourself by hiding him in your home -- the consequences.. well, that will be for later. Carry on now, everyone. Don't mind me -- I'll be here, patrolling the streets."

Then the voice cut off, and the Alchem. signal was removed for the time being.

Hide and Seek >

 S2: