Smoldering Suppression
“Why are you doing this?” Titor asked, brought into the lab by four technicians, each holding a different wire that trailed into his back. Suppressing measures, to prevent any unwanted actions. The standard. He wasn’t sure if he should be grateful or frustrated that he could be subdued so easily. No heavy bindings were needed, just some wires and the proper codes to shut everything down.
No, he wasn’t a Garlean anymore, well, certainly not ‘pureblood’ in the strictest form of the word. He wasn’t a machine either though. Something in-between. It was still taking some time to get used to, he didn’t see it happening to him. At least not for a long time, and not without being informed if the full scope of the matter.
But he was a Citadel now, a cybrid, recreating technologies of Allag past. A unique one though, created through unusual circumstances. A prototype. A failure and resounding success at the same time.
“I don’t understand. Please tell me.” He said softly, his voice barely over a whisper. This was his common speech pattern, and no one ever really figured out why. Was he just shy? Was something wrong with his voice? Likely not, as sometimes those moments of excitement would bring his voice to louder volumes. Then again, perhaps it was forced. It never really lasted all too long.
“I just want to be a medicus again. And help others. And work alongside Ark to get the data nece--” The Citadel was cut off abruptly by one of the technicians lazily tapping on his device. And with that, Titor was silenced. He would open his mouth, but no words would come. Just breathy air. “No more questions, 54.” The tech replied as he helped guide Titor into a sitting position on a metal chair in the middle of an otherwise relatively empty room. “Perhaps you don’t realize how useful you were. Rufrius was a madman, but a genius. You’re what’s left of his work. His methods, though unethical, produced you. And we’re going to use you. You’ll be a wonderful tool against the Empire, if only you could see it.”
Titor went to protest, but no words came out. There was so much he wanted to say. How he would rather have a mutable genetic code again, fix his anemia, fix his dead nerves, fix everything wrong with him, but no. All had to be sacrificed for an immutable genotype with an obscure but powerful secret.
He wanted to say how he could possibly be useful with his augment as a prototype. With his signal so corrupt sounding. Sure, his mimicry was good, but that was all he really had. Not even other Citadels wanted him on their network. It could never be fixed as it was hardwired right into his nervous system, and any attempts of extraction and re-integration would surely lead to death on the table, surgical complications due to his anemia. It was amazing he got this far.
A familiar visor was placed over his eyes, the trailing wires jacked into the main dataline communications port at the back of his neck.The visor’s interface flooded his mind with its data. Usually he loved data, but not in this way. Not like this.
“You’re being ineffective, however.” The tech spoke once again. “We have orders to better unify you with yourself, through any means. The more in control of yourself you are, the more in control we can be by proxy. A small upgrade this time, and a slight bit of conditioning. Just relax, you will be ok. It’s for the good of all of us. You’ll feel better, Garlemald will be better. You’re doing this for your country.” Titor grit his teeth and grunted silently as the update was forcefully pushed into his mind and augment. His fists balled up in a pained motion, and he went to jerk away, but was unable to. It had all been shut down through the augment’s control. “NNnnnnnn.” He said, voice strained more as the code burned through his system, searing its way into the databanks and activating itself as a primary program.
[00 ONLINE. CONNECTING TO 53... SUCCESS. CONNECTING TO 54.... ...... ERROR, RETRYING..... ..... SUCCESS. CONNECTING TO 52.... ......ERROR RETRYING..... ERROr.R ...r.r..... ... ...
...
.. SUCCESS. SYNCHRONIZATION AT 80%. AWAITING INPUT.]
Titor relaxed in the chair, a stoic look coming over his face as his personality was changed by the presence of this 00 in his system. It burned, it burned. 52 and 54 tried to rebel the most, but it was futile. Who could resist the datastream?
“Remember.” The tech said. “We’re not here to hurt you. Just train you. We’ll all be better off in the end.”
The three aspects of Titor waged war with the foreign entity from within, but nothing could be done. His thoughts, feelings, emotions were leeched away, replaced with a hollow, empty version of himself. The rebelling was so great, however, that it caused a temporary system halt. Blackness started to creep into the corners of his vision, before obscuring his vision entirely as the cybrid blacked out from the invading entity.
