Ky

I had always been afraid of the dark.

Even before I had to live in it. I could remember as a child running into my mother and father’s room after a bad nightmare, feeling like the shadows were following me through the long stark hallways of our family home. It had been huge in comparison to the little apartments the Drowners and clones lived, and back then it had felt like miles separated me and my parent’s room.

Sometimes, when I was a lot younger, my mother would let me in. She would hold me close, stroke back my hair, and let me sleep between her and my father in their bed.

But that changed shortly after as the dynamic between our family grew colder, and my father’s days at work started turning into nights and then weeks away on other business ventures. My mother stopped answering me, leaving me to cry in the hall until the exhaustive effort allowed me to finally get back to sleep.

And with time I grew used to it. Adjusted. I learned to tolerate the darkness if not only so that I could live my life. But, just when I thought I had finally gained control of my fear, I was plunged right back into it.

The day a Marilyn changed my life forever.

And I found myself right back at the beginning, alone, afraid, and surrounded by a kind of darkness that no matter how much tech I implanted in my brain, I just couldn't escape. The memory of the pain I carried those first few months after the explosion haunted me to this day. Back then it hadn’t only been darkness I had to conquer, but immeasurable loss and the realization that some monsters just could not be escaped. Some things were beyond my control, no matter how hard I tried to learn to live with them.

Eventually, I realized somewhere against the backdrop of infinite blackness, that I was awake. My head throbbed. The ground shifted underneath me, and my body jerked back and forth. I heard a scuff on the ground and felt a body next to me shift as they collapsed beside me. I heard a feminine sigh, and sensed someone's eyes on me.

But I couldn't see anything, not even the glimmering infrared world my visor usually provided. I tried to tear myself away from it, but I couldn't. I felt panic welling up inside my chest.

I rose my fingers to my head, searching for the controls that would help me see. They brushed against the cool metal, indicating it was still there, but as my hand ran over the side I could feel it was loose where it shouldn’t have been. The metal that usually molded to my face was hard and stiff.

Something sticky and wet trickled down my face from underneath the metal, and I knew instantly that the mechanisms of the device that aided my vision had been damaged, the link between it and my mind somehow severed. As I pressed on it, I felt a sharp stab of pain jolt through my head, and I hissed.

And then I remembered the Marilyn.

It all came flooding back to me, only somewhat fuzzy and blurred in places where my sluggish thoughts struggled to recall the details. But I remembered finding the Marilyn down in the market disguising herself as a damn Zara with one of those overpriced V-World face-changers. Then I remembered recognizing her voice.

Not only had she been the escaped Marilyn, she had also been my teammate in Galactica, LoreLei.

I had always known something was wrong with her.

Alarm filled me and I tried to sit up, my head spinning and nausea rising in my throat. The ground below us tilted, and I had to slam my hands down on the rough metal floor under me to keep myself from rolling. I could hear the clang of bottles ring through the space, and I had a feeling I wasn’t in one of my Droners.

Which only filled me with dread.

I heard another sigh, and a hand pressed on my shoulder to keep me in place as my head spun.

“You’re awake,” said a voice I recognized all too well. Only, LoreLei—Marilyn 350, didn’t sound at all happy to see me awake and well.