Broken Worlds: A Sea Of Tears

“Excellent work, Mr. Lars!” I said eagerly as I shook the tall, British man’s hand quickly. It had been one week since he had updated his mission status to “complete”, and had just stepped off of a helicopter that was dropping him off at BlackTech’s New Phoenix headquarters building. “My superiors are quite pleased with the results of your mission.” Victor had just informed me that he had successfully killed Drayke Blackwood. I handed him a polished briefcase that contained his promised payment of five-million dollars. Outside New Phoenix and other BlackTech occupied cities it was worthless, but the company had decided to use the former US currency as their own; a reminder to all of what they were fighting to avenge.

“Well, I must admit that it was rather pleasant working for your ‘superiors,” he said nonchalantly. “Should they need anything like this done again, do make sure they remember my name; I wouldn’t mind having a little more spending money in my pocket,” he added jokingly.

I nodded and smiled slightly. “Yes, about that,” I said slowly. “My superiors have instructed me to offer you a job as a full employee of the BlackTech Corporation,” I explained. “You will be making this amount of money on a regular basis, you will be working with as many or as few others as you choose, and you will get near-unrestricted access to all BlackTech facilities and armories.”

Victor rose an eyebrow. “‘Near-unrestricted’?” he repeated uncertainly.

I nodded. “The CEO’s office is off limits to all but himself,” I clarified. “He doesn’t even have a secretary or a janitor; the entire top floor of New Phoenix’s facility is kept tidy by androids.”

The mercenary thought about this for a long time. “I don’t usually like regular employment,” he said thoughtfully, “but I’d be a fool to turn down that kind of money and benefits package. I’m in,” he said with a proud grin.

I gave him a pleased nod. “Excellent,” I replied. “Your next mission statement should be arriving via your tablet by tomorrow; until then, feel free to sightsee around the city and enjoy yourself. You’re about to become a very busy man, Mr. Lars.”

As we parted ways, I dropped my false cheerfulness. I did not like that man; not because he was willing to kill people without question, but because of the way he felt about it, like it was all a big hunt.

“Take me to the lab,” I said heavily as I sat down in the back of my private limousine, and closed the shutters that separated me from the driver. I pressed a button on the console, causing a cabinet to open up, revealing a row of shot glasses and a bottle of enhanced vodka. I poured myself a glass and drank it quickly, rubbing my temples gingerly as we drew closer to our destination. “I hate this job,” I said aloud. “So much stress, so many unpleasant people…”

After a few minutes, the limo came to a halt outside my father’s lab. “We’re here, Mr. Anderson,” the driver reported cheerfully. “Have a nice day.”

“I’ll try my best,” I muttered as I exited the vehicle and went inside.

I went to the back room of the lab to find that my father was not present; he must have been called to the headquarters for a meeting. I was pleased by this; after the incident with Alice nearly a week prior, I wanted as little to do with that man as possible. I knew he was developing the Pandora Serum; it was his proudest project, a way to give humans incredible strength and resilience, but he could never work out the psychological effects it had on subjects.

This had been the third time I had kidnapped someone for my father’s experiments, but the first time I had watched them go through the process.

Alright, father, I thought carefully as I strode past the technicians into the main office, which was marked “Doctor Anderson - Authorized Personnel Only”, let’s see what else you’ve been keeping for me. As you may have guessed, the only “authorized personnel” that could enter my father’s office was him.

As I began to page through a filing cabinet for suspicious papers, I couldn’t help but think of Alice. I didn’t get many opportunities to talk to other people because of my job, so she was the only person in some time that I could call a friend. She trusted me, and her last moments were spent knowing that I had betrayed that trust.

As I scanned the files, I saw one curious-looking envelope; it looked like all the others that accompanied it, but the name on the tab was scribbled out with a black marker. I removed the folder from the drawer and opened it, revealing its contents: a yellow sticky-note that had one single word on it.

“‘Recursion’,” I said quietly, and I heard a pneumatic hiss behind me. I turned to see that the far wall of the office had slid away, revealing a narrow, spiraling, white staircase that led beneath the lab. I carefully placed the folder back in the drawer and closed it gently, and hesitantly descended the polished-looking steps. The walls and stairs were as smooth as glass, and I must have followed them for at least five minutes before they finally ended.

When I reached the bottom, I emerged into a long room that was lined with several large, column-like structures. I glanced to my right and saw a tablet-like device resting on a pedestal, its screen listing several commands.

-DISPLAY DIAGNOSTICS...

-UNCOVER CONTAINER...

-CREATE SPECIMEN

-REMOVE SPECIMEN

I reached a hand out, pulling back for just a moment, and pressed my finger against the “CREATE SPECIMEN” tab. I heard a soft bleep come from the device, and it asked me which container I wanted to use. It also said containers four through thirty were in use, so I decided to simply use the first one. There was a loud roaring noise and I cringed, wondering if anyone upstairs noticed the noise, and heard the sound of rushing water coming from one of the columns. I inspected it to see it, and all the others as well, was actually actually glass cylinders; the rest must have been concealed by some kind of protected casing.

I stared in horror as a small object was deposited into the cylinder, now filled with a greenish-yellow liquid. It took me a moment that is was an unborn child, floating around in the container like some kind of life support system. I stared as the liquid turned a reddish color as a light on either end of the tube filtered through. The container began to hum loudly, and I watched, confused and appalled, as the child began to grow; whatever this device was, it was accelerating the baby’s aging process.

It didn’t take me long to realize, once the creature’s face and hair had grown a little more, what it was becoming.

“It’s a clone… of me,” I whispered.

A voice spoke from behind me, and I quickly turned to see my father standing behind me, looking annoyed. “Of me, actually,” he corrected. “Cyrus, what are you doing down here?”

I took a cautious step back, all the pieces slowly coming together in my mind. “That’s why I don’t have a mother,” I said quietly, my voice vibrating with anger. “That’s why I look so much like you; not as if I were simply your son…”

My father shifted his weight on his feet. “Go on, Cyrus,” he said coaxingly.

I looked him in the eye, feeling a slight pressure on my forehead. “...as if I were you,” I finished.

My father chuckled and took a step towards me, but I quickly took one away. “Why are there three empty containers?” I asked in a hostile tone. “Am I not the first?”

The old man nodded stiffly. “They were not as obedient as I would have liked them to be, so they were... discarded,” he explained simply.

I furrowed my brow, both out of anger and pain; now, not only was my forehead burning, by my shoulders were, too. I didn’t care, though; I wanted answers. “They’re living things,” I snapped, “and you feel as though you can kill them just like that?”

My father glared back at me. “I gave them life and purpose,” he said sternly. “They were not consummated through love, nor brought to life by a higher power; they were created by my hands and my blood alone. To them, and to you, I am God.

“But you are special compared to your siblings,” he continued. “You were the first who I decided to use the Pandora Serum on, and therefore the first successful test of the serum. It seems to have lain dormant within you, however; I’ve been researching some way to activate it,” he added disappointedly.

Right then, I realized what was happening, why this strange sensation had begun to overtake me. “Father, I think I just figured out how the serum works,” I reported dutifully, walking over to one of the containers. The old man listened intently as I went on: “You’re serum causes mutations because it was created using your blood as a base; that is why only I survived the bonding process with my mind intact. However, the other subjects did not instantly develop the serum’s enhanced strength; no, there was another factor. Something else the serum did that caused it to activate the other enhancements.”

My "father" looked intrigued. “Yes? What do you think it was?” he inquired.

I wrapped my fingers around one of the support beams that kept the container upright. “Anger,” I growled as I squeezed, the steel crumpling like aluminum foil in my hand. I ripped the beam free and hurled it at my father, spearing his shoulder and pinning him against the wall. He cried out in pain as I ran past, up the stairs, and out of the laboratory. The remote my father had, his little “contingency plan” in case I ever became disobedient, I knew it didn’t work if I was out of range. I ran as fast as I could for as long as I could, my vision blurring as I felt the Pandora Serum flowing through my veins, finally awakened after… how old was I, really? Have I really lived for 18 years, or did my father simply plant the memories of my predecessor in my head, as his predecessors were planted in his?

These thoughts plagued my mind as I continued running, until I realized that I was no longer in New Phoenix; I was several miles outside the gates, several yards away from a swirling vortex.

A portal to Equestria, I thought, awestruck. Despite my various jobs and accomplishments working under BlackTech, I had never seen one of these portals up close. It was a reddish-pink and swirled around like mist, becoming thicker and more condensed in the center. I could feel a slight breeze blowing in the direction of the portal. Or, more likely, I felt the portal tugging lightly at my body, as if it were a child pulling me along a path.

I glanced back at New Phoenix; my father would get out of that lab, and he would come looking for me. If I wanted to stay alive, I had to go to the one place he was unwilling to set foot.

“I really hope I know what I’m doing,” I said aloud, but as I stepped into the portal, that doubt got confirmation.

I had absolutely no idea what I was doing.