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Sweet silence. That’s what Natalie always says. And currently, that’s what I want. Ever since the discovery of what was an operating base for ARES, a part of what used to be the IMC. This new discovery has been dubbed the name “Capacitor” by some of the other Legends. It seems to have direct links to Singh Labs, which in turn have links back to me. As the name implies, the area is littered with ‘Charge Towers’ which are able to help Legends turn a fight extremely quickly. But ever since I used one of these, the voices from the void have only been getting worse, getting stronger, getting more aggressive.
Natalie has been helping a lot recently. Obviously, her problems with noise are a lot different to mine. But the small things she’s taught me, weird to think that Natalie is teaching me – then again she’s practically a genius, stuff like meditation has been helping a lot, drawing has also been helping a whole lot as well. But at times, even that isn’t able to break past the incessant stream of “you’re not safe” and “you don’t belong”. Recently I’ve been hiding away more often, especially when I’m alone and not around the other legends. I would pull my scarf up around my mouth and tuck it behind my ears. Forming a makeshift facemask – it helps to dull the general background noise that surrounds me. I feel more alone and safer.
I’ve had my doubts as to whether joining the games was a good idea. But the truth is I’ve seen the other realities. The other realities when I’m not a part of the games – and whilst for sure I haven’t seen them fully, the glimpses I see when walking between worlds, when phase walking. They don’t spell out anything good. But then, I’m sure that a different version of me, if they were to see me now might just say the same thing.
As it so happens, I’ve been drawing a map, well maybe drawing is too strong a word. Perhaps annotating a map – Crypto was able to get his hands on one of the maps that the Game Makers use. More specifically, the more I explore and take part in the games, the more areas I can annotate where the IMC have had meaningful involvement. If I can find a smidgen, just the smallest amount of information about the Wraith project – maybe that will stop the voices from shouting me down in my own thoughts. So far, I haven’t had any new leads, all the information keeps leading back to Singh Labs, home of the Wraith project.
I throw my pencil down in anger and frustration onto my desk. “Ugh. It makes me sick. All of it. All I was a part of. All I’ve been told I was a part of.” My head sinks into my hands, elbows resting on the desk. I let out a gentle sob.
I’m not sure for how long I was in that state for, just sitting there. But it wasn’t until I heard a rapping noise on the door and a small voice squeak and pipe up saying: “Wraith, are you in there?” It was Wattson. Of course, it was. I didn’t turn up for training with her earlier. “Are you okay? Can I come in?” Her voice wavered and its tone cracked ever so slightly. I leaned back in my chair and spun slightly to free my legs, allowing me to get up.
I waded slowly towards the door. My legs felt heavy, my entire being felt weary, tired. I almost collapsed and fell onto the door. At this time, I’m no longer sure how long I’ve been awake for. I slid the deadbolt slowly across. It rattled slowly within its constraints. With a deft pull on the handle, I opened the door.
“Wraith?” Came her concerned voice. It took all the strength I had to simply not just fall over and perhaps hopefully be caught by her. I let out a deep undulating sigh. My mind was racing. What do I say. I’m in no state at all. “Can I come in, you look a mess.” I nodded and let her past before shutting the door behind us with a slam.
By the time I turned around she was already at my desk looking at what I had been working on. I didn’t even have a morsel of energy left to scamper over and hide it. She probably deserved to know. Recently, she’s been one of my closest friends out of the legends, along with Mirage and Pathfinder – there’s a lovable charm to each of them. And is this group we all seemed to look out for each other, well maybe not Mirage and Pathfinder, but their playful banter definetly kept everyone else’s spirits high.
“Is this why you look like a mess?” Wattson asked, whilst I was deep in my thoughts, she had lifted up the piece of paper. And was now showing it to me, her head cocked slightly at an awkward, examining angle. She was still wearing her hood, but her outer insulating jacket was nowhere to be found. “Hmm?”
My only retort? A slow, shy nod. I’m not the easiest to admit weakness or come to think of it, even just showing weakness was hard for me. But here she was staring right through me. Perhaps even analysing me. “You’re in trouble” came the pestering voices, but only slightly and not as loud as they were earlier. And it was clear that the Wattson who was always willing to crack a joke and make her squad mates either
smile or cringe at her puns.
She puts my map back down on the desk, and strolls up to me and cups my head with her hands. Thumbs wiping away tears. “I’m not here to scold you. I want to help you.” She steps back slightly and looks around before continuing. “Have you been keeping up with the meditation?”
I don’t even know where to begin. Truth is, as much as it helps me I haven’t been meditating as much as she’d like me to, or even as much as I’d like myself to be doing it. My eyes are cast to the floor, and with a timid shake of my head I admit to her.
“Would you like to do some now?” She asks. “Try and take your mind off of things.”
And it did help. The voices quietened down a lot. Being with Wattson helps a whole lot.