Work Text:
The air feels thin.
It’s cold in the lab, chills running up your body sporadically. You stumble around, clear your throat over and over again and shuddering as you shove things around, looking for clues among the drawers and shut down desktops. Nothing. Just dust and yellowing sheets of paper that you’re too dizzy to read. No leads, no clues, nothing to show for the effort of getting yourself locked up in this place.
You’re not even sure it’s cold, despite the biting feeling at your fingertips. You’re sweating like crazy. You can feel pin pricks in your eyes. There’s something in the air- what is it? How fast will it kill you? Your weak heart shudders, missing a couple beats. The pain in your chest is spreading, growing, deep.
‘A communication device,’ you think to yourself hazily, ‘I need a phone, a radio, something.’ The shivering is getting worse; your limbs are starting to twitch. There’s definitely something in the air and it’s killing you, fast. There’s no time, there’s no time, where’s a phone, anything, even a-
Oh. The implant. Sylus.
Your addled brain chants that word, Sylus, Sylus, Sylus. That’s your lifeline, Sylus. That implant he put near your ear, invisible to almost every tracker. Somehow, he can't track it. Maybe calling him will fix that? How to activate it… How are you supposed to activate it?
“Sylus,” you call out to no one in particular, voice coming out breathy and hoarse. It’s hard to breath, like your lungs aren’t listening to you anymore. Ah. Respiratory depressant. Fast acting. Lethal. Your heart starts to beat even faster, the seriousness of the situation dawning on you. High heart rate. Not good for the arrythmia.
You claw at your own skin, scratching the sides of your neck. Where is the thing, damn it-
A beep. A sob of relief escapes you.
“No signal. Please connect to-”
“Fuck, damn it,” you choke, that stupid gas in the air making your already teary eyes spill over, salt dripping into your mouth. Your nose is runny, too. What a mess, what a mess-
“Adjust frequency,” you whimper, clutching that thing through your skin like it’s a lifeline, “Adjust frequency. Twelve gigahertz, adjust frequency.”
“Adjusting frequency. Low signal. Please wait a moment.”
You want to scream, but then you’d have to inhale. Terrible idea. One deep breath, that's all you've got before you have to stop yourself from breathing completely. Hopefully that part will be temporary. You gasp desperately for air, the noise reedy and rough. Okay, there. Stay still. It’s going to work, the thing said it's connecting, right? It’s going to work. There's no point in doubting it.
You’re getting lightheaded. Your guts are churning. Your neck is starting to twitch now, but you just let it happen. Conserve energy, wait, let the implant work. If only it would work.
“Adjust frequency,” you choke out again, heaving involuntarily right after. You can’t help it. There’s something obstructing your windpipe, forcing you to breathe in.
“Adjusting frequency. Please wait a moment.”
“No, no no, fuck,” you sob, the tears uncontrollable, blurring your vision. You don’t want to die here. What a terrible fucking way to die, it’s embarrassing, Sylus would be so-
“Connected.”
You wheeze, your lungs freeing up a little at just the slightest hint of hope. It’s Sylus, he’ll think of something.
“Sweetie?” a sweet, rumbling voice echoes in your ear. Even through the fog in your head, you can hear his disapproval, “I can’t find your tracker. If this is another game-”
“Sylus,” you choke, “My gear's jacked. I don’t know where I am.”
There’s dead silence on the other end of the line and your stomach lurches with fear, thinking he’s left.
“Sy-”
“Where are you.”
“I don’t know,” you whimper, “There’s a lab, there’s something in the air, I can’t-”
“Details,” that honeyed voice sounds almost shaky now, “Sweetie, slow down. I need details. Look around you.”
“I can’t see,” it dawns on you like ice being injected into your veins. Your vision is staying blurry even after the tears run down your cheeks. You'll have to go off of your foggy memory.
“U-Um, there are old computers? The east quadrant. I smelled dirt, it was dry- but now I’m in here-”
“Okay. Okay, breathe slowly, shh, breathe slow. I’m coming,” the voice breathes into the speaker. Are your ears roaring too loudly or is his voice just uneven? “Give me something else. Anything.”
“I don’t know, please-” your tongue starts to feel heavy in your mouth. Your hands are twitching so hard, you might be gearing up for a seizure, “I don’t know, I can’t see- um- there was- I-I think- there were cages, for wanderers, maybe- I don’t-”
You drop to the floor, trembling violently. Your heartbeat is echoing in your ears, drowning out his voice.
“Sylus-”
“I’m coming. Breathe slowly. I’m coming.”
His voice is getting fainter.
“Sylus?” you call out into the enveloping darkness.
“Y/N, hang in there,” the voice echoes in your head muddily.
“Sylus-,” you rasp. Your world is smothered in waves of sound, the echoes growing louder and louder until you can’t hear anything, Help me.”
You don't hear what he says next.