41 One of Many Last Stands

"What is your name, soldier?"

He tried to focus his vision on the speaker but he couldn't.

Some other images were superimposed on everything he sees.

The voice was gentle but firm. It sounded a bit young despite the authority mingled with it.

His throat felt clogged.

The weight in his chest felt there was more than just congestion. It was burning.

"Bring him water."

There were hurried footsteps.

Good.

He wasn't going to pressure him.

He used that moment to gather his thoughts.

After lingering for a while in that unnamed city, he felt the disorienting tug of displacement again.

He stopped counting. The number that had happened seemed so insignificant for the moment.

His name was...is John. Past that, he couldn't quite tell which memory is real.

Everything he thinks he remembers is jumbled up and skewed, like lines that do not meet.

He even remembers two similar events that are so identical but felt distinctly different.

There is no progression within his mind because there was no reference.

Past and present and future are turned sideways and backwards and inside out.

It is maddening.

He recalls a flame...a very bright flame. It was in the shape of a woman.

Her name was Alab.

He knew her.

Then he knew her as Ora.

Who was Ora?

"Drink."

He did. Trying to make sense of his thoughts is futile. He had to live in the moment for now.

His throat decongested, his vision also turned normal.

The man beside the bed is clearly an official.

So he did survive.

General Gregorio Del Pilar is looking at him with concern.

"General...sir." His voice felt gravelly. It was painful to speak.

"Take a moment. I am not going anywhere."

John took another sip from the cup.

He sat up on the bed.

He heard the clink of a rifle being raised in a hurry but he was not alarmed.

The general raised his hand to calm the other soldier who still has his rifle trained on John.

"My name is Joh...Juan Bernardo, sir."

"You ran away."

"Yes."

He felt no shame even though the general insinuated that he was a coward.

"You are a soldier. Have you no honor?"

"I have my life. I also have nobody to honor me."

The general's eyes bore on him.

"I suppose honor is for generals like you. Ordinary soldiers do not have that luxury."

"Bastard, don't talk to the general that way!" It was the soldier who almost shot him.

"You seem intelligent, Juan. you speak with eloquence. I guess you were not cut out to be a soldier."

"I read in a book once about a soldier who followed orders without question. He believed it was an honor to die for the country so he led his men to their death. He was hailed as a hero."

"I fail to see your point. He was hailed as a hero, you say? There is no greater honor than for one to die for his country."

"There was no monument for the other soldiers who died with him."

Silence.

The other soldier looked at John with hate in his eyes.

The young general only stared at him.

There was sadness in those youthful eyes.

There was also steel.

"If you can walk, take your belongings and get out of here. I see no soldier in front of me. Go live your life elsewhere, Juan Bernardo."

"Would you tell that to your men?"

Again, the sadness.

"They are soldiers. You will not understand. There are battles meant to be fought as they come. If you were a farmer, you would say the same thing about the turning of the seasons. You plant when it's time."

"I suppose so. I wish I could fight with you, general ,but I feel like my battle is elsewhere. I am sorry."

"You speak like the next battle is already lost. Have a little faith, Juan. My men are the best."

"Pardon me, I did not mean for my words to come out that way. My head is still fuzzy. Can you tell me what day is this?"

"It's the 30th of November."

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Tinaw sat crossed legged near his tree. He felt tired after projecting his thoughts to one of the still functional time markers.

He was able to save John but he was not able to talk to him, much less bring him back.

Alasan sat across from him. For now, he is the only one able to force his way through the spacetime distortions.

"I bring news from Lemmeng. He found one. My ward might have met with her by now."

"That is comforting. What of the others?"

"The Shadow Warrior was seen briefly near the source. The Daughter of the Flame is nowhere to be seen. Induyan is on the track of the Chained Bride."

"What of the Bearer of the Kampilan?"

"He got thrown the farthest. We can only guess."

Tinaw took a deep breath.

"I am afraid we are in trouble, my friend. The alignment is at hand and the scale is tipped way over to the other side."

"The Bakunawa messed us up royally this time."

"Yes, you could say that. What about the inhabitants of the white thread?"

"That one is harder to track. My best efforts turned to naught. We can only hope that the old man knows what he is doing."

"I don't think even the Gods know what they are doing but we can hope that this will all turn out right in the end."

"What do I tell the others? I must be going now. Time waits for no one...except well, you know."

"We did our best slowing the flow near the source but it will eventually correct itself. Tell Tarayon to check the fringes. When your ward comes back with the Second, bring them to me."

"Alright, if that is all, I shall depart. Farewell, Tinaw. Until next time."

With that, Alasan vanished leaving a small dust cloud.

______________________________________

In a laboratory somewhere deep in the Amazon forest, a terrible experiment is being conducted.

The subjects were injected with a solution mixed with the synthetic MBC.

With the scarcity of the crystals, scientists of the Eastern Dragon Corporation were forced to create a weaker version.

Some of the subjects showed remarkable genetic improvement but most of them mutated severely.

Everyone of the subjects exhibited one common trait. They all grew more powerful.

Strength and stamina were off the charts. Some of the luckier ones even develop what could be described as supernatural powers.

Due to the accelerated metabolic state, most of the subjects died when their organs were taxed to the maximum.

The scientists are yet to discover why the earlier subjects who took the crystals in their pure form did not show any changes at all.

___________________________________

"You have 4 days to pay. Otherwise, you can look for another place to stay. You and the stinking old people you have holed up here."

The thin, well dressed man told Vince gruffly. When Vince did not look intimidated, he retreated behind his goons - steroid freaks who, Vince thought, would not even last a minute with him in the ring.

He stared at the thin man, showing his annoyance.

"You will get your payment tomorrow. All you had to do was remind me of the deadline. You didn't have to bring your dogs."

"Eh, they like the exercise every now and then."

"In here? You must be kidding me. Even the kids here will tear them apart."

Vince smiled genuinely. It's true. The disenfranchised gathered in the shadowy corners of the new society. If in the glittery, bright world of the wealthy, social credit rules - where even the wimpiest can be king as long as you have the approval of the 'influencers', the outside borders house the real tough ones.

Moulded by the harshest of conditions and taught by the most brutal situations, the inhabitants of the dark corners are all tough as nails.

"My boys are Jumpers, if you know what I mean."

"I know what you mean. Do you know what I mean?"

Maybe as a demonstration, one of the Jump ingesting idiots grabbed a small kid passing by.

Without warning, the kid (a girl not more than 5 years old) bit the wrist of the man who grabbed her.

She drew blood immediately and he screamed. He threw the kid like a rag but the little girl rolled safely and bared her bloody teeth at him.

Vince looked at the thin man and shrugged his shoulders.

"Tomorrow, man. You don't have to intimidate us. We will pay. You go now. The others do more than bite."

The group didn't need to be told twice.