The first thing Torao felt upon consciousness was pain.
It wasn't the sharp, clean kind either. The kind that's easy to pin-point and says 'there, that's where it hurts'. No, it was everywhere. Wrapped around his bones like razor wire sinking into the marrow. Even his blood felt too hot, like molten rock burning him from the inside out.
It was as if he could feel every nerve ending screaming at him. Nausea wracking his body along with wet, coppery tasting coughs and such an intense throbbing behind his eyes he was surprised they hadn't popped.
He had no idea how long he'd been there. Time had dissolved somewhere between the injections and the light they kept putting him beneath. A light of searing white that he was strapped to a gurney beneath, until his vision turned to static despite having his eyes closed tight. Blinded by it. Even if it always came back to him, eventually.
He remembered the disinterested voices droning above him. 'Rad-bath' one of them had said. Clinical and detached. 'Subject 14-G. Round three.'
His body wouldn't stop shaking, trembling violently both inside and out. Every breath he drew was shallow and wrong, the kind that made him just want to stop. That felt like it wasn't worth the effort any more.
Let me die, he thought. It wasn't even a wish anymore but a plea. He couldn't make his voice come out any more, every attempt met with more ragged, choking splutters. So he was begging inside his head every time he was lucid enough to formulate coherent thought.
Just let me die.
Torao didn't know how long he was shifting between awareness and unconsciousness. But he was half-conscious when strange, new sounds began breaking through the haze.
It wasn't the usual boots thudding through the hallway as the soldiers and doctors did their rounds. Nor was it the ever present hum of the engines and life support systems of the Interstellar Security & Expeditionary Army research vessel he was on.
It was something else.
A deep, resonant thud that made everything shudder and jolt. Torao felt it even through the violent trembling of his own sick body. It made the lights flicker and the ship groan in protest. Then there was shouting, and the high pitched, intermittent whine of something that might have been gunfire.
Torao's heart lurched, a weak, desperate thing in his chest.
He tried to move but his body refused to co-operate with him. Broken beyond its limits and still refusing to obey him, even with his increased rate of healing against whatever they'd been doing to him in the latest round of tests.
Radiation? That sounded familiar.
He at least knew humans weren't supposed to recover from all over burns and internal bleeding as quickly as he did.
Instead of sitting up he turned his head, letting it fall to the side as he forced his stinging eyes open. His matted pink hair fell across his face, making the oversensitive and freshly healed skin there itch uncomfortably.
Torao watched the door as the locking mechanism creaked and hissed.
No. No, they couldn't! He couldn't do another round, he couldn't—
The door slammed inward, rebounding off the wall and Torao flinched at the sound making his head feel like it was going to split open. Two figures spilled into the room through it, wearing dark clothes and with their weapons drawn.
One of them had hair like honey touched with strawberry, red eyes scanning the space with military precision. The other was smaller, white hair pulled back in a ponytail but still reaching past his shoulder-blades. His orange eyes were sharp behind the barrel of a modified plasma rifle.
They weren't ISEA.
Torao's breath caught but then turned into a wet, rattling cough that wracked his whole body. The taste of blood flooded his mouth.
"Clear," the smaller one said. His voice was young. Clipped and tense. "It's not a weapon, there's just—"
He stopped and both of the men were staring at him now.
Torao stared right back, deep wine-red eyes struggling to stay in focus. He was too exhausted now to feel fear, knowing that these men weren't the ones who'd take him back for more testing was enough. Anything less than that seemed trivial in comparison. In-fact if they planned to kill him right now it would probably be a mercy. He'd rather that than be left behind to keep being a guinea pig.
"What the fuck," the white-haired one said.
"Told you the intel was off." The taller one stepped closer, his weapon lowered but his stance remained tense. Ready for battle. "He's definitely a splice. I don't know why he's here, though."
"Great. A splice. So we broke into a top-secret ISEA transport for cargo—"
"Quiet." The tall one's gaze hadn't left Torao, he was assessing him, calculating. "He's been contained, look at his wrists. They've been holding him like a prisoner." A pause. "Can you understand me?"
Torao unconsciously flexed his arms against the restraints holding his wrists when they were mentioned. Muscles burning.
He wanted to answer the man. He tried, he really did, but his mouth opened and no words would come out. Nothing except a pathetic sound that made him hate himself even more. His vision blurred, then, and he couldn't tell if his eyes had filled with tears or if he was on the verge of blacking out again.
"Shit," the white-haired one said again, but this time it sounded different. Less frustrated and almost concerned. "He's in bad shape. Aegis, he's really in bad shape."
"I see it." A pause. "Ghostwire, check the terminal. I want to know what they were doing to him."
Torao kept his eyes on the tall one, Aegis, as the other moved out of his peripheral sight line. He heard the quiet hum of electronics and assumed it must be the terminal, or whatever he was using to hack into it.
"Holy shit." A beat passed. "They were exposing him to concentrated Xoeht-radiation. According to this, they've done it three times in the last week. He's not supposed to survive this."
Torao felt his eyelids slipping. The pain was a roar again now, drowning out everything else.
A hand touched his shoulder and his eyes snapped open. When had they even closed? The touch was against skin that hadn't been touched gently in so long he'd forgotten what it felt like. His entire body jerked and locked up, every muscle seizing and tense. The sound that bubbled up out of his throat sounded barely human to his own ears. It didn't sound like him at all.
The hand withdrew immediately then.
"It's alright," Aegis said with a tone that was low and careful. It was commanding but not cruel. "I'm not going to hurt you. We're not ISEA. Do you understand? We're not with them."
Torao understood. But he didn't know if he quite believed it. Not yet.
His lips moved. "Please," he whispered. It came out cracked and broken. He didn't know what he was even asking for. Begging for.
Aegis exchanged a look with Ghostwire over his shoulder.
"We need to move," Ghostwire said. "Sec team's going to figure out we're here. We've got maybe six minutes."
"Then make them count." Aegis turned back to Torao. "Can you walk?"
He wanted to say yes. He wanted to be strong, to prove he wasn't broken and show them he could be something other than this. A shivering, sick, useless thing strapped to a cot in a cell.
He tried to sit up, the restraints having just enough slack that he would be allowed that luxury should he ever be well enough. But his arms gave out immediately.
Torao crashed back down onto the wafer-thin mattress and the impact sent a fresh wave of pain and nausea rolling through him. His vision whited out and when it cleared Aegis was leaning over him, expression unreadable.
"Alright," he said. "That's an answer."
Then, before Torao could react he was being lifted—lifted!—off the cot into the air. He wasn't even sure when his restraints had been untied, or which one of the men had done it.
His world tilted violently as he was settled against a broad chest, an arm under his knees and another behind his back to cradle him. Aegis holding him as if he weighed nothing at all.
"Get the door," Aegis said. "We're taking him with us."
"Taking him? Aegis, we don't even know—"
"We're taking him." His tone left no room for argument. "Move."
So they moved.
Torao's head lolled against Aegis' shoulder. He could feel the man's heartbeat. A steady, strong thumping beneath the chest against his cheek. He could smell sweat mingled with coolant and something faintly metallic. It was real and human and lacked the overwhelming stench of sterilising fluid.
Not ISEA, he thought. Not ISEA.
He wanted to believe it, he want it to be true more than anything. He needed this to not be some sort of cruel test, another way to measure how easily he could be broken.
His eyes drifted closed again, mostly due to the pain of being jostled about. The darkness took him before he could fight it.