Status Report
Context: Following the acceptance of his new name, Kalel is tasked to begin a journal
My name is Kalel. Kalel. I’m not like them, but I am them. I’m Hyome. I’m not a weapon. That much has been drilled into my head. It doesn’t make much sense. I’m practically more machine than man. My arm and eye make that much obvious outside of the replaced nerves and augmented heart. I’m entirely too quick, my aim too precise, my arm impossibly destructive. My body can take it. It was better than the others. They were able to push farther and farther with me. Unlike non-hyomenal, our augments were fixed. If wanted and given the chance they can completely remove and heal from the intrusion. We couldn’t. It was the only way. To the techs this was perfect. Proof that augmentation is how we, people, higher lifeforms, will truly ascend.
…
I don’t think I like writing. My new handler caregiver gave me the order to do this. She told me I can call her Mom... I never had a mother. I don’t remember much from early childhood. I was moved around, bought and sold, that I do remember. … I remember the others. They told us we were... necessary. That what they did was necessary. That the world will thank us for what we had to do. I. Had. To.
I remember their faces. Every single one. They weren’t worthy of the new world that will be born from the flames of the old. I wish I wasn’t too.
