I think the first thing I remember was the sound of foot steps. Not the typical boots on concrete sound I was used to hearing in every day 'life'. This sounded different... Light. Precise. But most importantly, getting louder. I could make out what sounded like two additional sets of footsteps. These were different than the first. They were more familiar. Heavier.

  I could see them, but not from where I was sitting. My vision seemed to somehow follow behind them.

  The woman navigated the corridor effortlessly. The lights overhead flickered endlessly, as if a warning of some kind. "Did they always flicker?" I wondered to myself... I had definitely not been in my right mind for some time now, but the thought that the lights would flicker like that specifically as she passed underneath them did make my skin crawl. When your movement is restricted to simply "sight", you run out of ideas to entertain yourself with more easily than you can imagine. It kept things interesting at the very least.

  Two figures followed closely behind the woman in the lab coat. Her dark red hair was kept in a neat ponytail, and she didn't seem to be phased by the bodies spread out across the floor. The sickening stench of death didn't seem to invade her senses either. If it did, it certainly didn't seem to bother her.

  I remember wondering what the point of wearing protective gear was if the woman who seemed to be in charge didn't seem bothered by the stench from the corpses lying about on the floor. At the very least, I would have imagined that the disease itself was enough of a reason to wear some form of respiratory protection. The fact that she didn't seem concerned with such ideas only further piqued my own growing curiosity.

  They weren't all corpses on the floor. Sure, they were dead, but not yet. Not in the sense you might immediately think. First, they would be forced to endure something far more sinister. That entire night.

"The scourge" -as the people who lived in the lower district of Sanctuary called it, was a virus as dated as it was a nuisance. If you can imagine the worst possible fate a person could be stuck with, and then throw in a little too much misery to the mix, that's what you'd get if you were to imagine life in the "Evaluation" district of Sanctuary, as the 'SCSS' would put it.

  Of course, the "Sanctuary City Surveillance System" had quite the way of embellishing certain topics to make them sound less ominous. I expected nothing less from the infamous Elizabeth Hale, who I didn't know I was about to meet. She still managed to come at me with the last thing I would have ever thought possible.

​

A chance to survive.

​

  Had I known what the definition of "Survive" really meant to Elizabeth Hale, and the rest of Sanctuary, I might have reconsidered.

​

"This one's still breathing ma'am." The taller of the two figures in protective gear stated as if it was of great importance to Elizabeth.

Almost as if he truly thought he understood what his purpose was in that moment. I'd imagine it was something along the lines of "Go here", "Check for Vital Signs", "State The Obvious To Elizabeth Hale Who Already Knows", with a bit of "Why Do I Even Bother?" mixed in there. I started to realize that as I had begun to understand the world around me more and more, the less I really wanted to. Did the figures in the Hazmat equipment even have free will?

  Elizabeth didn't even turn around. She stopped dead in her tracks. I then realized it was the heels she was wearing that were making the distinct clacking sound against the concrete. She looked over her shoulder without an ounce of humanity in her eyes, and simply stuck her hands in the pockets of her lab coat.

"Leave him". She said, continuing her carefully measured steps over the countless bodies across the floor. She made no indication of investigating the victim any more than what I was able to gather from the distance she put between herself and the motionless body.

"Don't bother. It's already made it's way to the brain. Notice the swelling in the temporal lobe."

  I had only known Elizabeth for a few short moments by then, but I knew enough to know she meant it as a statement. People like her often portrayed a certain aura about them. I wasn't sure how it all worked at the time, as it was all still new to me, but I immediately understood that there was a sense of authority involved in the way she carried herself. People like that tend to leave an impression on you. I suppose that was the point.

"He has 14 hours tops".

  Elizabeth stated it with confidence. As if she was completely aware of how long the victim had to 'live'. She stated it as more of a fact, rather than just a 'good diagnosis'. It seemed to be meant as a reason to leave the still breathing figure right where they had found him. Maybe they really thought of "him" as more of an "it", in their own minds. I wasn't sure just yet, but I could feel myself starting to get a better grasp of what was going on around me.

  Both figures stood up and had already begun collecting the equipment they had thought they would be setting up just moments before, from around the silent, scourge-infected man in front of them. I pitied him. I remember the look he gave them as soon as he understood the ones he thought had arrived to help him so suddenly, were just as quick to abandon him. He followed them with nothing but his eyes. There wasn't much else he could do. The Scourge had left all victims completely paralyzed sooner or later. To some, the way he followed them with his eyes, watching his last chance of life slip away before him might not have been immediately noticeable. I started to understand that there was a good chance I was seeing more than the average person. How much more? I couldn't even begin to fathom at the time. Every moment seemed to become clearer, and I felt with each passing frame, I was getting a clearer understanding of the world around me.

  Elizabeth and the two figures behind her made their way deeper through the complex. They passed through the dimly lit corridor. Plastic curtains sealed off what appeared to be what I could only imagine as the more gruesome of past events. The blood on the other side of the curtain made that obvious. The more I was drawn to the idea of what was on the other side of the curtain, the more I found myself able to imagine it. -And the less I wanted to I quickly realized.

She stopped in her place. The two figures behind her followed her every move. She tilted her head curiously, seemingly entertained by the man slumped over in the corner of the room. The average person might have missed him. When a room is as still and without life as this one was, a small shadowy figure in the back of a dark interior tends to go unnoticed.

​

That is until he coughed.

​

  Elizabeth pointed her thin finger at the man propped against the wall. The handcuffs he wore gave me a clear understanding of the kind of person he was. Things would have to be pretty bad for someone to willingly chain themselves to a pipe. My thoughts started to work out the situation backwards. I couldn't explain exactly how I knew, but it was apparent to me, that this was someone who wanted to be sure they wouldn't harm anyone when things finally got to where they seemed to be inevitably going. The Scourge didn't differentiate between victims. I wasn't sure how I knew this, but as soon as this question came to mind, I immediately knew that there was a reason I knew what it seemed I knew. I also had no way of knowing most of my questions would be put to rest moments later.

  Dr. Hale had begun working her magic. I now understood why she was in charge. Her mind seemed to work differently, as if she approached problems by focusing on the solution and the solution only. She seemed to know exactly what she was doing, when she was doing it. Her movements were precise and thoughtful. She seemed as though she had already planned her every move long before she even arrived. As if she had rehearsed it many times in her head already.

Whether she genuinely cared for the man on the floor, or she was just an exceptionally skilled psychologist or actress of some sort, I wasn't sure if I would ever know. That was when it hit me. Why couldn't I seem to get a clear read on Elizabeth? It seemed to work on the man chained to the pipe.

  What reason would a paralyzed man need to chain himself to a pipe?

I wondered to myself... But some part of me already knew the answer. Whatever disembodied version of me I was, in that very moment, knew I didn't really want to know the answer. It didn't matter however, I didn't have a say. The answer to the question arrived before I even realized I wished it hadn't.

​

"Chip Status"?

This was the first real question I had heard Elizabeth ask.

"Online. Green across the board." came the response.

  She held her hand out, and like clockwork, a tablet device of some sort found it's way from her subordinate's fingertips to hers.

I watched as they operated in an almost surgical manner. "Were they human?" I wondered. This question too, seemed to be a dead end. A Question I wasn't "programmed" to know the answer to it seemed.

  Elizabeth looked at the tablet and with a quick flurry of movements from her fingers, she seemed to find what she was looking for, and seemed to know exactly where to look. There was something about her I was drawn to. She was intelligent, this was obvious. But I wondered what she was like underneath the cold and calculating mask she seemed to wear. "Did she have a side of her that was still human in some way?" I thought to myself...

  The more I thought about what I was observing, the more lost in it I became.

  She was after the victim's name. I already knew it of course, but had no way of speaking or telling Elizabeth what it was. I wasn't even sure I should. I figured it was probably best to see what kind of person she was first. In the end, it didn't matter however, as she was more than capable of solving something as simple as figuring out someone's name with the tools she had at her disposal.

"Anthony... Anthony Barnett? It's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Doctor Elizabeth Hale. I'm here to help you. -If you'll allow me."

  Anthony struggled to move his head, but with enough effort, managed to make eye contact. His eyes were bloodshot. He moved his lips ever so slightly before giving up. It was no use. In his weakened state, moving his mouth to form the words he felt he wanted to say was already hard enough without his mouth being sealed shut with dried blood.

  Elizabeth pulled out a wipe of some sort from her pocket and sprayed it with a solution of some kind that she seemed to find in her other pocket. She gently dabbed Anthony's mouth in an attempt to wipe away some of the blood that was making communication impossible. Anthony's eyes seemed to be a dead giveaway that Elizabeth was not to be trusted. His breathing became quicker, and seemed to be filled with fear the closer she seemed to get.

  Elizabeth appeared to be incredibly clever. Either that, or she had done this before. My conclusion was that both were equally true.

"Your body may no longer be able to move where you want it to, but your brain is still functioning. -Optimally at that. Thankfully, that's all that matters. You still have time before it spreads".

  The words came out as if they were pre-meditated. Either that, or she had said the exact same sentence many times before. The words echoed in my mind before my thoughts were suddenly disrupted by the sound of Anthony convulsing and violently coughing up blood. He made a sad effort to face away from her as he did, but it was mostly pointless. The two figures who had been following Elizabeth were now setting up all sorts of equipment. They seemed to already know how this scenario went, and performed their designated roles effortlessly.

  Elizabeth knelt down beside Anthony when he finished his sporadic movements caused by uncontrollable coughing. His body perhaps making one last attempt at fighting a losing battle. He looked to be young. Young enough to be a candidate for the "Septennial Selection", yet obviously not healthy enough to fight off something like the Scourge. The only way to survive infection was to stop the spread at the source. This usually meant the loss of a limb. Sometimes several. The "replacements" in the "Slums of Sanctuary", as the candidates called it, were not much of a replacement at all. Sure, they restored basic movement to even the worst of cases from time to time, but compared to the technology that existed on the other side of the wall, it was far from as good as the limbs given to a person by one's parents. The sensation of touch, namely.

​

"It doesn't have to be this way..." She began softly.

"What if I told you, you didn't have to die? That you could be rid of all this. The sickness, the pain... It could all be wiped away. Like it never happened..."

  The words came out as if she had meant them. As if there was compassion in her voice, but I still wasn't convinced.

Anthony seemed to let out what appeared to be a short laugh that quickly turned into a surge of violent, bloody coughing. He looked directly at Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth Hale stood up carefully. She didn't seem bothered by the seemingly obvious disease that was being projected from Anthony's lungs. She put her hands back in her coat pockets, looking down at Anthony, who was making it obvious that simply breathing was what he was most interested in focusing on.

  "You're unable to move your limbs. At this point, you are experiencing difficulty breathing. Your lungs will fail. Soon you'll lose the ability to move your head entirely. The Scourge will spread to the brain, and that'll be the end of it. As you know, there is no cure for it. The usual "treatment" you candidates often resort to... It isn't an option. Not at this stage."

  Anthony's silence seemed to indicate that this was something that he had made his peace with already. Elizabeth wasn't done speaking though. Not yet.

​

"There is an alternative though..."

​

  Anthony Barnett made every effort to speak, seemingly well aware it was doing him more harm than good to waste energy on talking. What was he saving his energy for anyway? I imagined his thought process. He must have figured it was just prolonging his agony.

 

"I won't become your puppet. I won't be an empty shell for you to use however you please. I won't become one of those...things. I know who you are, and who you represent. You and the rest of your kind up there in that blasted city can take your "product", and sell it to someone who actually wants to make a deal with the devil. If you have any humanity in those dead eyes of yours, let me live out my last moments in peace."

​

  His accent reminded me of a place far away I couldn't seem to recall. Everyone seemed to have their own unique accent the more I thought about it... The way he rolled certain syllables made me wish I could know what the world was like before people were treated like cattle by those in charge.

  Dr. Hale didn't seem even the least bit concerned with his response. She simply continued on as if she already knew each response Anthony would give before he gave it.

"No, you're right Mr. Barnett. Do you prefer I call you Anthony? Excellent. Formalities tend to wear out their welcome from time to time."

  Elizabeth had a solemn expression on her face. I couldn't know if it was genuine or not. It could have just as easily been the way she portrayed herself in that moment, or simply her default expression. There was no way to know for certain. Not with anyone who was coming from the Capitol anyway. There wasn't even a surefire way to know if she was real, or just a cloned emissary. The second idea made more sense to me. Cloning, like everything else, had been reserved for the SCSS, and the SCSS only. If a candidate were to be caught doing anything involving cloning, it would result in immediate OS Chip detonation. Cloning, like all advanced sciences, was considered 'Highly illegal' in Sanctuary.

​

"I can't. Not without your permission anyway... If your mind were to reject the treatment... Under that level of stress... Your mind would simply "fry" itself, rendering the whole operation pointless... You do need to be fully compliant for this to work".

​

"And why the HELL would I do that?" Anthony retorted.

​

  I could tell speaking was painful for him. Why would something that paralyzed the body still allow it to feel pain? It was almost as if it was the worst fate someone could imagine by design.

Elizabeth remained calm and played with the augmented glass spectacles she wore on her face before taking them off and speaking without the assistance of some other intelligence feeding her data. She suddenly seemed far more genuine. There was still no way to know for certain if she was though.

​

"Because you'd be in far better shape than you are now, Anthony. You'd lack any free will of your own, true. But you wouldn't know from pain... from suffering... You would live life however you wished. Your subconscious would keep you in a state of bliss. Anything you could imagine, it would feel real. You wouldn't be aware of anything outside this world you create. -Like living in a dream."

​

  Anthony looked at Elizabeth with eyes that clearly hadn't known from the idea of "relief". Definitely not recently. Maybe not ever.

"I won't have any free will... I'll be used as your tool..."

"Yes, though you won't be aware of it."

"Will it hurt?"

  Elizabeth let out a soft, short laugh.

"Thanks to the paralysis, it would be almost entirely painless."

Elizabeth made a face that suggested she did have a more human side to her, she smiled and rolled her eyes upward for a moment before getting seemingly lost in thought.

"Are you familiar with the concept of Lucid dreaming Mr. Barnett? -Sorry, Anthony?"

"What...?"

"Before the technology existed to induce them at will, people used to attempt a number of methods when trying to induce a lucid dream manually. One such method involved a light that would flash over one's eyelids while sleeping. To the person asleep, this sign would be subtle. It would appear in their dream naturally. -Like a street light flashing, or a window in a building having the lights go on and off above you."

​

  Anthony seemed a little lost as to where the subject was going, but was no doubt relieved to not have to be the one speaking. He seemed to be in less pain when he had nothing to do but to listen to Dr. Hale go on about seemingly unrelated topics. Her voice did carry a charming undertone. She had an almost low "husky" sound. A sound I knew was often related to having one's vocal cords operated on. It didn't usually last very long, I'd imagine her voice sounded different usually. Elizabeth continued with the subject, making it clear Anthony didn't have a choice when it came to listening to her speak or not.

​

"If you were practiced, you would see the flash of light in your dream, however it appeared, and recognize it as the pre-configured sign meant to tell you that you're dreaming. Then it was just a matter of staying asleep. If you could do that, you'd be in full control of whatever you were dreaming about."

  Elizabeth, sensing the confusion on Anthony's face continued...

​

I could practically hear his brow furrowing.

​

"To you, life will seem perfectly normal. This is because your mind will be in a state similar to dreaming. It will look real. Feel real. As an "Observer", the SCSS will be using you to monitor potential threats, as well as high-value candidates. Whenever deployed, footage captured by you will seem like a natural event taking place in your mind. In this "Dream State", you may be sitting on the couch, looking through a photo album, or something of the like."

​

"In reality...?" Was all Anthony wanted to ask. It was a question that showed she had his attention, and he was listening. She picked up on it, knowing he'd attempt to say as little as possible if he could still get his point across.

​

"In reality, the photo album is just your mind attempting to make sense of what is actually happening. The photo album in this case represents the footage currently being recorded by The SCSS, using you, as the eyes and ears of Sanctuary. Whenever not in use by The SCSS, it will seem to you like you only put the album away."

​

  There was a long pause between what Elizabeth had just told him, and what he was going to ask next.

"In this dream state, I can do anything...?"

"The only limits are your imagination."

"I could see my daughter again?"

"You could spend as much time with her as you like. -When not deployed."

"And when I'm... "In Use" by The SCSS...?"

"Whenever deployed, it will only feel like a moment or two to you."

  Anthony thought about the idea for what seemed like an eternity. Elizabeth made no indication that her patience was anywhere near growing thin.

"What do you need me to do?" Anthony finally asked.

  It was a question that he knew he would not get a solid answer to. Not yet at least.

"Cooperate". Came Elizabeth's response.

  She had replied almost before he had finished asking the question.

​

"Okay... When does this all start?"

"We've already started."

​

  Elizabeth made no indication that she had any intention of clarifying further. The figures in protective gear had already set up a portable lab of sorts. There were more of these Hazmat figures now. I couldn't recall when they had arrived.

  The newer arrivals carried a stretcher of sorts, while others got started cutting through the cuff placed on Anthony's hand. The same one that said "I'm not moving from this spot" only moments before. The familiar sound of propeller blades seemed to suddenly seep into my mind. It seemed far away, getting closer.

  The lights were a clear indication of a Vertical Take-Off and Landing aircraft setting down on the pavement just outside. The VTOL aircraft's lights lit up parts of the darkened complex as it touched down . The corridor became a series of flashing lights before it made its final descent and landing, touching down softly on the asphalt like a phantom. The air ripped and thrashed around the seemingly pre-occupied, drone-like Hazmat figures.

  When the air finally settled down to a less violent series of bursts and now hovered at a more manageable, constant breeze, Elizabeth finally fixed the tuft of hair that had been thrashed about in the wind. She took out the band that kept her dark-cherry colored hair in a ponytail, before expertly gathering it all up and putting it back in it's rightful place.

  Anthony seemed to want to ask more questions than he must've had the breath for. He managed to ask the one he felt he deserved the answer to the most.

​

"But... what if I had refused...?"

​

  Elizabeth finished with her hair, and smiled softly. It was an almost sorrowful expression... If she was capable of genuine emotion, this was what it would likely look like I imagined. She put her hands back in her coat pockets and said three simple words I'll never forget. The last words I ever truly heard with my own ears.

​

"They never do".