Chapter Text
Leon POV
“What is two plus two?” He groaned at the sudden intrusion on his sleep. He didn’t even know he was asleep, but he’s awake now.
“What is two plus two?” Something was talking. It definitely wasn’t a human voice. It was too uncanny to be a real person.
“What is two plus two?” The voice won’t shut up. He just wants to sleep.
“Mmm…ffrrr…” Weird. He tried to say four, but his mouth wasn’t cooperating. Honestly, a little embarrassing.
“Incorrect. What is two plus two?” Wow. That was rather patronizing.
“Ffurr…” he tried again, but it wasn’t much easier.
“Incorrect. What is-“
“Four!”
“Correct. What is your name?”
His name? That’s a dumb question. It’s…what is his name? Why can’t he remember? He tried to open his eyes, only to be met with a blinding light that immediately made him close his eyes again. Where even is he? He’s lying in a bed, it’s unnecessarily bright, and…he’s covered in tubes and wires.
“Eye movement detected. What is your name?” The voice is back. It’s really starting to get on his nerves.
“Go ‘way…” he mumbled. Talking was hard. Moving was hard. Everything was difficult for some reason.
“Incorrect. What is your name?” Wow, this thing is a bitch. It won’t shut up. He opened his again and tried to look around a little. His whole body felt like lead, and turning his head was a nightmare. He looked to his left, and saw nothing but white and grey walls. He looked to his right and saw mechanical arms a few feet from his face, waving and twitching and moving around like a group of snakes hanging off a tree.
He moved before he could even process what he was looking at. His whole body jerked and he practically threw himself off the bed, ripping a surprising amount of tubes out of places that were definitely not pleasant. He hit the ground hard, yelping and blinking back tears of pain. But that was probably the least of his worries. He didn’t see the mechanical arms. He saw bloody hands reaching for his face, for his neck, for his body; he saw his own hands covered in blood, holding weapons, holding dead bodies; grotesque horrors lunging towards him, their limbs coming apart and their eyes full of pain and anger. He scrambled backwards, barely able to breathe, as the machine slid across the ceiling towards him.
“Please remember that muscle function is not yet fully restored. Please return to the medical platform,” The hands reached for him, and he backed himself against the wall, hyperventilating.
“No- stop! Back up!” He could barely get the words out. The machine slowed to a stop a few feet away from him, its rubber “hands” tilting and grabbing at nothing. He was too far away for them to reach.
“Please return to the medical platform,” it repeated in that same feminine and not quite monotone voice. It was definitely not a human talking.
“What are you? Where am I?!” He was confused. He was scared. Everything in his body was screaming at him to move, to get away, to fight, but that same body refused to cooperate, leaving him helpless on the floor and quite literally backed into a corner. “Why am I here? What did you do to me?”
“What is your name?” This thing was really starting to get on his nerves.
“Fuck off!” He attempted to hoist himself up against the wall, only to stumble and fall backwards. The mechanical arms grabbed him and dragged him back to the bed despite his flailing attempts to escape. This robot was strong.
“Please remember that muscle function is not yet restored,” the voice repeated, somehow lifting him up and setting him on the bed again. “What is your name?”
“Do you ever say anything else?” he asked, sliding off the bed and pulling out the remaining tubes (ouch).
“Incorrect. What is your name?” Wow, this thing sucks. He pulled out the last IV, and turned around to face the machine, leaning heavily against the bed.
“Tell me where I am first and what the hell happened to me, and maybe I’ll answer your question,” he snapped. Damn, is he always this sassy? Anyways, the answer he gets could help him remember who he is or what he’s supposed to do here.
“You have been in an induced coma. Muscle function and memory have not yet been restored,” it responded, its arms reaching for him again. He quickly pushed them away, almost falling over.
“Yeah, no shit- wait, induced coma? What the fuck?”
“You have been in an induced coma for four years,” the arms had thankfully stopped moving, and were now hovering nearby to make sure he didn’t fall over. His legs were shaking a lot even though most of his body weight was pressed against the bed.
“Four years? Why? Where am I?” He was starting to panic a little. But he didn’t have time for that. He must have a job to do if he ended up here. That’s what he always does. He’s always working. But why? What is his job? Why can’t he remember?
“What is your name?”
“Give me a minute. I’m trying to think,” he snapped. He really didn’t like this thing. He didn’t like any of this. His mind was still fuzzy, and all he was still trying to shake off the panic from his little episode a few minutes ago.
His chest suddenly felt heavy, as flashes of ruined cities and writhing bodies flashed through his head again. Hundreds of memories all poured into his head against his will. He suddenly didn’t want to remember, but his brain had other plans. He saw blood, tears, and bones. He heard screaming, moaning, begging. He felt an overwhelming sense of guilt that crushed his chest and squeezed the air out of his lungs. His legs started to give out and he sat heavily on the floor beside the bed, practically gasping for air. He felt like he was drowning. He didn’t know what to do. It was too much.
Tears welled up in his eyes, and he curled into a ball right there on the floor. He felt pathetic, but he didn’t know what else to do. He was scared and alone in a place he didn’t recognize, and he couldn’t remember anything except things that no one should ever remember.
Finally, after an embarrassing amount of emotions, he finally remembered. The voice of a young girl shouting “Help me, Leon!” way too many times. His name is Leon. He lifted his head to look at the machine.
“Leon. My name is Leon,” his voice was a little rough from his crying episode, but the machine accepted his answer. “Now tell me where I am and why I’m here.” He needed an answer if he wanted to get out of here, if that was even an option. Why are his thoughts all so pessimistic?
“We are currently approaching Tau Ceti’s orbit. Prepare for engine shutoff in approximately 2 hours and 7 minutes,” the voice responded.
“What the hell is Tau Ceti? And what engine are you talking about?” Leon didn’t like the sound of this at all. “Is Tau Ceti supposed to be some new virus? …why am I talking about viruses? What is going on?” Does he work with viruses? Is that his job? But why does he only remember…that? It doesn’t make sense.
“Prepare for engine shutoff in approximately 2 hours and 6 minutes,” the voice responded in that same monotone voice.
“Haha, very helpful,” he stood up from his spot on the floor, thankfully a lot steadier than before. “Why am I here? What am I even supposed to be doing? Do you know what my job is?”
“All information pertaining to Project Hail Mary is filed away in storage. Would you like to have storage opened?” The machine slid to the other side of the room, right above a small hatch Leon hadn’t noticed yet.
“This is some weird sci-fi bullshit…”