Chapter Text
Abbie was sitting on his bed looking at his bandaged hand, the one that Professor Bloomie had shattered before Circle intervened. Why did this have to happen to him? What had he done to deserve this torture? He was tired, sad, even angry...
First, he was killed by Miss Circle, and then after who knows how many years, he was brought back to life to submit to an offer he couldn't refuse.
A few months earlier:
"Y-yes, Miss Grace?" asked Abbie, sitting in front of Miss Grace. He looked very different from the last time he'd seen her; everyone at the academy had changed, militarized after the dark events that shut down the old school.
"So then... Welcome back, Abbie. As you can see, things have changed around here... For example, you now have to call me Sergeant Grace. Understood?" She pronounced the last part in an extremely threatening tone, to which Abbie quickly nodded, trembling.
"So... c-can I go home now?... Please!" asked Abbie desperately. Maybe this could all end at once... Maybe he could go back home, go to another normal school, finish high school and... that's it.
"Oh, no, no, no. I'm sorry, Abbie, but you can't leave. You're officially registered as dead everywhere. In fact, I had another proposal for you: you can join this new military academy, where most of the students have already returned, or we could put a regulation bullet between your eyes. Make your choice." That's how Sergeant Grace replied, with the characteristic gentleness of industrial-grade sandpaper.
Abbie froze. His hands went from nervously fidgeting with each other to shaking as if an earthquake were rattling his bones. Die? Again?... He didn't want to. He didn't want to experience that pain again. He didn't want to be near these crazed teachers. He just wanted to be by Lana's side, escape to a field of flowers, and find some peace.
But some harsh words abruptly pulled him from his spiral of thoughts:
"Well, Abbie? Have you made your choice yet?"
Abbie didn't need to think twice, mainly because the fear of ceasing to exist was paralyzing.
"F-fine... I'll stay," the trembling words barely managed to escape his lips.
Back to the present:
Abbie was shaken from his painful memories by a familiar voice coming from the shared dormitory.
"Hey, Abbie? You should rest... Tomorrow we have heavy training with Corporal Sasha in the armored vehicle workshops and with Sergeant Circle in the perimeter security sector, though I think they're going to do something new... Oliver, Zip, and Edward have been putting ideas into Circle's head," Engel commented, looking at him with genuine concern from the adjacent bunk.
"... Oh, uh... Yeah, fine... I'll... go to sleep now," Abbie murmured in a soft, tired whisper, adjusting his bandaged hand under the sheet. He knew perfectly well how tomorrow would end: everyone would do something right, he would do it terribly wrong, and he'd end up being chased without earning a single conduct star.
Abbie lay down on his bed and closed his eyes... He thought for a moment about the temptation to give up, but the memory of his friends, the remote possibility of escaping and finding his family, and the hope of spending time with Lana gave him back a flicker of strength. With a small, nostalgic smile drawn on his face, he finally drifted off into the world of dreams.
However, this time the dream felt strangely lucid and different for one reason.
He found himself sitting on the floor of what seemed to be an office filled with servers and high-tech wiring, a place he didn't recognize at all. Suddenly, a row of screens lit up simultaneously, revealing the silhouetted figure of a man observing streams of tactical data.
"Neural link established... Telemetry is clean. Excellent," the mysterious man commented as he typed rapidly on his central console. "Listen to me, kid. This isn't a fantasy from your subconscious; you're experiencing an encrypted communication bridge. You're a key piece for an operation. Someone inside your militarized perimeter possesses control hardware that we need to secure. Could you tell me your name to register you in the database, please?"
Abbie felt a chill run down his spine in the dream, but faced with the imposing yet protective voice, he decided to trust the stranger.
"A-Abbie... W-why me?"
"Hmm, I see from your records that your situation with the teaching staff is extremely hostile, Abbie. I think I could deploy some of my clowns to provide you with logistical support and watch your back in that warzone."
"H-help me?" asked Abbie, incredulous that an outsider would care about his survival at the academy.
"My plan is for your sector Sergeant to trust you enough to grant you access to restricted and high-security zones, understand? From now on, you can call me Bain. This direct-link technology cost a fortune and many favors to acquire, so I need you to follow my instructions to the letter. We'll see each other very soon, Abbie." Bain glanced at him sideways through the screens. "Oh, and sorry for the mystery, your sleep cycle is about to end and you need to wake up. But before that happens, briefly describe tomorrow's training itinerary for me. That way I'll know exactly who to send to your position."
"Uhm... I don't know for sure what we'll do, but... Miss Sasha teaches tank mechanical engineering, and Miss Circle is in charge of perimeter security," Abbie murmured, remembering the teachers' assignments.
"Heavy mechanics and military security... Understood," Bain analyzed as he entered the data into his terminal. "That narrows down the options. I'll definitely send Chains; that guy has gotten out of worse situations in his time with the Navy SEALs and will know how to handle those armed instructors."
"Huh?... Who?" asked Abbie, confused by the strange alias.
"Don't worry, you'll meet him as soon as you open your eyes," Bain replied with a slight laugh before cutting the transmission.
Abbie woke up with a start, sitting up in bed with his heart pounding in his chest.
"What the...?" Abbie looked around, disoriented, rubbing his eyes to make sure he was back in his military academy dormitory.
"Abbie? Are you okay? You had a pretty restless night," Engel asked him, already buckling his combat boots and looking at him with genuine confusion.
"Uh? I... I'm... fine... yeah, everything's fine, don't worry," Abbie replied hastily, sitting on the edge of the bed while trying to process the supposed dream.
"You're lucky the dormitory assignments are quiet around here. Imagine if we'd had to share a room with Oliver or Edward!" Engel commented with a grimace of disgust, causing a shiver to run down Abbie's spine as he remembered the cruel hazing from those two.
"D-don't say that... We'd better change quickly and head out to the hallway," Abbie suggested, wanting to avoid any mention of the school's bullies.
After changing into their uniforms hastily, maintaining the usual discretion of looking at the wall while the other dressed, they both stepped out into the cold metal-and-paper hallway of the military academy.
"Well, well, look who it is. The living dead himself," a screechy voice mocked from behind them. Abbie tensed up immediately; it was Zip, who had led the taunts against him since the very day he was revived.
"Hey, leave him alone for today, Zip. We're not in the mood for your games," Engel intervened, positioning himself firmly in front of Abbie like a defensive shield.
"Easy there, princess, don't get your panties in a twist. I was just saying hello to your dear boyfriend," Zip replied with a mocking smile, raising her hands in a fake gesture of surrender.
Engel blushed violently at the insinuation, while Abbie tried, without much success, to hold a glare of annoyance at the bully.
It was at that precise moment when a deep, grave, and extremely clear voice resonated directly in Abbie's inner ear:
"Don't let that recruit walk all over you, soldier. Tell her to go screw herself!"
"G-go screw yourself..." Abbie blurted out towards Zip, trying to imitate the firm and brave tone of the mysterious voice, though the result was a bit shaky due to his lack of practice in standing up for himself.
Both Zip and Engel stared at him in absolute astonishment. Abbie never stood up for himself, much less used that kind of language with anyone at the military academy. Zip, disconcerted by the unexpected response, simply clicked her tongue and walked away down the hallway to rejoin her usual group.
"Th-thanks for the advice..." Abbie whispered as he turned to thank whoever he thought was behind him, but his words froze in his throat when he saw the figure standing beside him.
It wasn't any student from the school. It was an imposing man, dark-skinned, dressed in an elegant black tailored suit, a perfectly ironed white shirt, and a black tie. He was an extremely tall individual, about 190 centimeters of pure military muscle, who stood out absurdly in the academy's hallways.
"...Abbie? Who are you talking to?" asked Engel, looking at the empty space next to his friend with growing concern.
"What?... You can't see him?" inquired Abbie, pointing his index finger directly at the imposing suit-clad man.
The man let out a heavy sigh and crossed his arms, observing the surroundings with the clinical eye of a military contractor.
"Kid, don't waste your breath. Your friend can't see or hear me. It's electro-optical transmission technology, remember?" the man explained in a voice that conveyed absolute confidence and combat experience.
The memory of Bain and the strange encounter from the previous night finally clicked in Abbie's mind. It hadn't been an ordinary dream!
"Oh... uhm... It's nothing, Engel, don't worry. I just... thought I saw one of the prefects looking sideways at me. Why don't you go ahead and wait for me at the main exit of the dorm block while I quickly go to the bathroom?" Abbie improvised, forcing a noticeably nervous smile.
Anyone else would have been immediately suspicious of such evasive behavior, but coming from the perpetually anxious Abbie, Engel simply nodded and continued on his way down the hallway. As soon as his friend was out of sight, Abbie ran to the nearest restroom.
Once inside, Abbie thoroughly checked under the stall doors to make sure the bathroom was completely empty. Confirming there was no one there, he quickly turned to the mysterious man who had followed him in silence.
"What?... How is this possible? Who are you?!" Abbie exclaimed, stumbling over his own words due to agitation.
"Breathe, kid! At this rate, you're going to choke on your own spit," the man replied calmly, leaning his huge back against the rigid paper wall. "That damn Bain made me put on this experimental helmet with optical lenses, but with these sausage fingers of mine, configuring the transceiver is a nightmare. Anyway, they call me Chains. Ex-special forces, Enforcer of the crew, and practically invincible in any combat situation."
"Wait... if he mentioned you yesterday but... does that mean I can touch you? Or..." Abbie was completely confused by the situation.
"Think of it this way, recruit: your brain is the local network node, a tactical router, and I'm the receiving terminal. If you move too far from the original signal, the optical modulation will suffer interference and my projection will be lost. And as for whether you can touch me... well, the haptic feedback on these gloves simulates physical contact fairly decently."
To prove his point, the imposing military man extended his enormous right hand, palm open, waiting for a formal greeting. Abbie, swallowing hard and hesitating for a few moments, extended his bandaged hand and shook the man's. To his absolute surprise, the texture and pressure felt incredibly solid and real.
"Chains is my name. Invincible ex-military. Now, stand at attention, soldier, we have a security training exercise to sabotage."