Sinner's Run Ch. 08

His three friends landed, all of them taking a building and looting. Noah made a face as he saw that the loot was decidedly not on their side. While Fidget and Nala had secured weapons, 32 had not, though she made up for it with better armor than the other two had found. Nala asked something to 32 that the camera feed didn't pick up, and by way of answer 32 pulled out a grenade and waved it around. Seemed like that was the only weapons she'd found.

Someone landed behind him with a heavy 'oof.' Noah twisted around to see Archangel putting a hand to his chest and breathing heavily. The first elimination. Half a dozen more followed a few seconds later, all of them rolling around on the groud as they caught their bearings. When nobody he knew showed up, Noah looked back up at the screen.

Fidget was leading the way, skipping along without a care while the more tactically-minded Nala and 32 followed behind. The cut a line up the map towards the center, following the Zone closure and making pit stops along the way, where 32 got her hands on a Hyperion rifle, much to Noah's relief. They were all armed and ready for a fight.

They got one a moment later, as the team of Quirrel, Pontiff and Abbess stuck their heads over a hillock close and opened fire. Fidget, Nala and 32 scattered in three different directions to keep their foes from being able to concentrate their shooting. Noah leaned forward, trying to keep track of what was happening through the feed's perspective and wishing he had control so he could turn it in different directions.

Fidget lobbed several grenades in the direction of their attackers while cutting a line back and around in an attempt to get into a flanking position. Nala fired blind over her shoulder as she scrambled backwards behind a tree. As the camera flicked around and panned to keep an eye on the action, Noah caught a glimpse of 32 moving in a similar way to Fidget, looking like she was trying to get into a position to get the drop on the enemy. She threw out her moving cloud of caustic blood, sending it directly at the other team. Even when they didn't see it coming and it rolled directly over them, all three moved out of the way with little negative effect.

On camera, Nala shouted something to 32, then dropped to all fours and did a spectacular leap forward from her hiding spot. She landed directly atop the Pontiff, scoring several big hits with slashes of her claws. Quirrel and Abbess turned to help their comrade, only for 32's coagulated blood spears to drop down like artillery around them. Noah winced as they hit home, then gaped as he saw how little effect they had. When he'd been partnered with 32 just one of those spears had been enough to crack armor, owing to their small size and being a little tricky to aim. Now, Quirrel ate three of them before his armor broke. Talk about a home run with the nerf bat.

Frustration was clearly etched across 32's face as she scrambled to find cover in the aftermath of her assault. She'd tried, but the reduced damage on her abilities from the outside nerf had really hampered her effectiveness in battle. Quirrel had no such restrictions, sprinting after her with his gun at the ready. He hopped over the hillock, firing a Hacksaw from the hip. The buckshot chunked 32's armor in one go. Despite her getting her gun up and landing a few shots on him, Quirrel's follow-up shot put her into the down but not out state. He said something to her, a smug look on his face as he reloaded and walked away. A moment later, a sniper shot struck 32 on the ground, and she vanished from the feed.

Noah turned around just in time to see 32 reappear on the floor behind him with a groan. He moved over to her side. "32!"

She didn't respond to him rubbing her shoulder. A moment later, Fidget and Nala appeared next to them almost simultaneously. "Friggin' freaky faith guy," Fidget muttered, patting herself down to make sure nothing had carried over from the Run. "Gets one good shot and all of a sudden you can't touch him."

Nala sighed and sat up. Her face was irritated, her ears canted down. After a moment, she took a deep breath and opened her eyes, her ears pricking up. "Lucky fuckers. Next time."

32 slammed her fist against the ground, hauling herself up to her feet. "Apologies Fidget, Nala," she muttered. She turned and ran out of the Atrium at full speed, heading towards her room.

"Hey, 32!" Noah called. "Wait!" He took off after her, but her speed was far greater than this, and she reached her room before him. The door slid shut and locked with a heavy clunk. Noah pounded on it with the flat of his palm. "32?"

"Leave me be!" she snapped at him from inside. "Just...leave me be."

Noah leaned on the door. "I just want to know you're okay!"

"How in the name of any deity could I possibly be okay?"

His fingers curled against the metal, Noah wondering for a brief moment if he could take hold of it and move it aside like the developer room door. Unfortunately, it didn't seem like he had that level of game-breaking powers. In this, he was bound by the normal laws of physics. "Look, I get it-" he began.

"You do not get it," she said, cutting him off. "Do not tell me you 'get it,' Noah. Do not."

Noah sighed, resting his forehead against the door. "Okay, fair point. But I just-"

"I don't want your pity." 32's voice sounded close, as if she'd moved right up to the door to talk to him. "I just want to be left alone."

"I'm worried about what you'll do if you are," Noah said.

"Have it your way."

He heard footsteps moving away, and silence after that. Noah took a step back from the door, weighing what to do next. He could respect her wishes and leave her be, or be obstinate and keep pressing her. But he was self-aware enough to know that as good as his intentions might be, him dogging her might only make her mental state worse, and he wouldn't be respecting her.

So he made a choice. "I'm going to the gun range to practice," he said. "I'll come back in a little while to check on you. Okay?"

After a moment, she answered. "Very well."

Feeling like he'd made the right call, Noah left her door behind, walking back through the Atrium towards the gun range. Quirrel and his allies had won the game, and the mercenary was gloating up a storm.

"Yeah, that's right, better luck fuckin' next time, eh?" he said, facing the crowd of other Primes as if he'd just taken gold at the Olympics. "Nothing like getting your ass whipped nice and good now is it?" Behind him, Pontiff and Abbess looked on. Though Noah couldn't see their faces, their displeasure was written clear in the thin lines their mouths were mashed into. For once, Noah was on their side.

"Oy, Welkin!" Quirrel yelled to him, making Noah stop short. "Nice bit o' luck you didn't have to play the Game today, eh?"

Noah put as much disdain into his glance as possible. "Yeah," he said. "Sure. But don't forget all the others who did." He gestured to Pontiff and Abbess behind Quirrel.

The brash mercenary snorted. "Nothing to it. Now that poor 32's lost her deadly touch, I'm the most dangerous thing on the Run." He cracked a toothy sneer. "Dunno what happened to those spears of hers. Used to hurt like shit, now it's like they tickle."

Noah glowered at him a moment longer, then balled up his fists and walked away, heading towards the firing range. He knew he could have rocked Quirrel's world by dropping the whole 'everything around us is a simulation and you're not real' bomb on him. But there was no telling what he'd do armed with that knowledge, or how it would affect him. It might make him even more mean and nasty, and might spur him to get in the way of Noah's efforts to escape.

Nala was already in the firing range when he got there, firing an N-99 in short bursts at the targets downrange. Her shots hit in clean little clusters, as she moved from target to target with laser precision. Only when her magazine was empty did she lower the gun. "Is 32 okay?"

Noah took a Hyperion rifle off the wall, slapping an energy cell into it before taking up a position next to Nala. "No," he said.

"Right," Nala said, her voice resigned. "Probably a dumb question."

"I mean, I asked her the same thing."

She smirked. "So definitely a dumb question."

Noah snorted, raising the Hyperion to his shoulder and taking a few shots. The first two went wide, but the third and fourth struck the target center mass. His subsequent shots went wide again until he sighed in frustration.

"You're too loose," Nala said. "You've got some semblance of good aim but you're letting the recoil kick you out of position. That's why you keep missing. Watch this." She reloaded her gun, then settled into a firing stance. Her body was turned to the side to present a smaller target, the stock of the submachine gun braced against her shoulder. Nala feathered the trigger, firing in short bursts, absorbing the kick of the gun with her shoulder and body. She barely moved backwards at all, every round hitting it's mark downrange. When the gun clicked, Nala lowered it with a satisfied smirk. "There. Nothing to it."

Noah looked down at the long rifle in his hands. "But how do you do that while you're getting shot at? Or moving?"

"One thing at a time," Nala said. "You've gotta crawl before you can walk."

It made sense. Noah reloaded, then squared up in his best approximation of what she'd done. This time, he found the gun far easier to control, and managed to hit about half his shots.

"There you go," Nala complimented him. "We'll make a fighter out of you yet."

Noah looked at the holes his shots had left in the targets, the metal still smoking. "Not sure if that's what I want to be."

"No shame in doing it to survive this." Nala loaded the N-99 again, squaring up at the line to take more shots. "Though if I'm being honest I never took you for the lover type. Guess Fidget and Larka know something I don't."

"Larka and I happened after that first time you blew up at me. I was in a bad place emotionally, and she just wanted to make me feel better. It just became a regular thing after that. Fidget just kind of...happened."

"Yeah, that sounds like her." Nala's grin was wry as the N-99 cracked, set to single-fire. She paused halfway through the magazine. "Does...32's thing have anything to do with you?"

Noah's face burned. "No. I've barely ever touched her at all. She's not a huggy person."

"Huh. Could've fooled me."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You and her seem...maybe not friendly. Cozy seems like a better word. You both work well together as a team." She shrugged one shoulder, going back to shooting. "After finding out you've banged Larka and Fidget I just kind of assumed."

Noah set the Hyperion rifle on the shelf in front of him. "I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it. I'm worried about her, though."

Nala's big eyes slid over to him. "Then why are you here and not with her?"

"She asked me to leave her alone. I don't want to disrespect her wishes."

The kaldar dipped her head. "Fair enough. But don't leave her alone. That girl has always seemed like she deals with a lot."

Noah sighed before picking up the Hyperion again. You have no idea, Nala.

He shot side by side with Nala for a while, practicing his aim until his concern for 32 outweighed his desire to continue. He left Nala at the range, depositing the rifle back into its rack for the next person to use before leaving the firing range. The Barracks halls were deserted, not a single Prime in sight. It took him only a minute to reach 32's door again.

He lifted a hand and knocked, gently this time compared to his aggressive palm slap earlier. "32? You okay in there?" No response. "I came back, like I said I would." Still nothing. "32? Come on, at least let me know you're okay."

A moment passed, then he heard something tap the other side of the door. "What do you want, Noah?" 32's voice asked from the other side.

He breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn't done anything to herself. "I just want to talk to you."

"What is there to talk about?"

Noah knelt down closer to the source of her voice. It sounded like she was sitting with her back against the door on the other side. He chose his words carefully. "A lot of things, I think. But I think whatever you want to talk about is what we should."

32 didn't say anything for a time. Noah sat down in the hallway, his back to the door in what he thought was a mirror of her own position. He crossed his arms in his lap and waited.

Finally, she spoke. "The life that was taken away from you. What was it like?"

Noah rubbed his thumbs against his pants. "Quiet," he said. "It was quiet. I had a job, a place to live, and a couple hobbies. A lot better than a lot of people do. But I didn't go out much. I was content to let the world pass me by because I thought I couldn't relate to people other than the small group I had. But a lot of those people lived apart from me, at a distance that I could only communicate with them via the Internet. That's fine to a point, but I felt isolated from the people that were around me in the flesh. Because my only friends were long-distance, I stayed inside a lot. So yeah, it was quiet. Quiet in that it was peaceful, but also lacking vibrance."

"You miss it."

He bowed his head. "It's less that I want that life back and more that I don't want this to be my future." He gestured around him, to the cold unflinching metal walls housing dozens of individuals that fought day in and day out for sport. "I don't have the heart to do this for the rest of my life. However long that is. I don't know if I'm aging in here."

Fabric rustled on the other side of the door as she shifted. "Suppose you made it back. What would you do?"

Noah shrugged, then realized she couldn't see it. "I mean, in theory I'd take all this experience to heart and change my ways. Be more outgoing, experience life, joy de vivre and all that jazz." He let his head slump back against the door. "But change is hard. I don't know if I can do it."

"You adapted to the Run," 32 said. After a pause, she added, "Perhaps not extremely well maybe, but you get by."

"I only get by because we're not bound by the normal laws of mortality here," Noah said. He made a face. "That sentence sounds absolutely ridiculous when I say it out loud."

"But it makes sense given what we know now. This isn't real, merely some digital simulation. There's no death here, only a cycle repeated over and over." Noah could hear the pain in her voice. "The only thing real here in any capacity is you."

"I don't think that's true at all." Noah turned so that he was on his knees, facing the door. "Everything around here feels perfectly real to me. The door, the food...how much it hurts getting shot out there. Sure, there's a lot of other things that don't exactly line up, but enough of this feels real to me."

"But that doesn't change the fact that I don't exist. Outside of this simulation I'm nothing more than a series of ones and zeros in a program. All that's happened to me, all that I don't remember, the pain that wracks my body every day, it was designed." Her voice sounded closer. "How am I supposed to move past that? How am I supposed to make peace with being nothing more than a construct?"

"You're not." Noah leaned on the door. "When you helped me find the door yesterday, your hand felt real when it brushed against mine. Out there, when we've been on the opposite sides of things a lot. Those blood spears feel damn real when they hit me." His fingers curled against the metal. "My concern for you is very, very real. And if I'm real, and I'm experiencing all this connected to you, doesn't that make you real in a way?"

32 said nothing for a long time. Noah wondered for a brief moment if his little speech had given her an unsolvable logic puzzle, like trying to divide by zero on a calculator. Even though he meant every word he'd said, there was still no denying that 32 was a creation in a digital space. Certain things might affect her in ways that he couldn't predict.

Then the door slid open and Noah almost fell into the room flat on his face. He caught himself with both hands and looked up. 32 looked down at him. Her hair was in dissarray, bangs hanging down in curls over her face. Her jumpsuit was half-undone down the line of her chest. The flap of fabric curled down, exposing one pale breast peaked with a rosy nipple.

"Stay with me," 32 said. "Please."

Noah got to his feet, stepping over the threshold and pulling the door shut behind him. The moment it clicked shut, 32 was on him. She pushed him up against the door, arms hooking around his neck and pulling him towards her. Their lips met, her tongue pushing into his mouth. Noah tasted a tang like that of blood as she ground herselt into him. It had an underlying sweetness to it, and Noah let his own tongue brush back as he sought to taste it more. His arms wrapped around her back, his fingertips curling into the stretchy fabric of the jumpsuit.

He let her dictate the pace, wanting her to assert herself in the way that she wanted. 32 ground herself against him, hitching her hips against the swell of his thigh and grinding the cleft of her legs into it. She didn't stop kissing him, barely pausing to breathe in between their lips adjusting against each other. It was as if she was trying to suck the life out of him, to try to claim some of what he was for her own. But she didn't need to. She was real - Noah believed that. The slender back under his fingers was real, the soft breasts against his chest were real, the lips and mouth kissing him were very, very real.

32 pulled him away from the door, dragging him towards her bed. Their lips parted for a brief moment before both of them came back together. Heat flushed Noah's face, radiating through his whole body. 32 let out a whimper as she felt his erection through his pants. "So that's what Larka and Fidget have been enjoying," she said.

"It's all yours," Noah said, nosing at her lips.

She took a step back, fingers scrabbling at the seam of her jumpsuit. The fabric made a noise as she tore at it, and Noah took the chance to get his shirt off. A moment later, 32's jumpsuit rippled into a pool at her feet. She folded her arms across her chest, hiding her body from him. Without clothing, the bits and pieces of technology embedded in her body were even more striking. The nodes and implants spiderwebbed their way up her arms to her shoulders, then dipped around and ran down her sides to meet in a series of nodes that drew a line across her pelvis.

If she expected revulsion, it was the last thing on Noah's mind. She was just as beautiful as any of the other women he'd bedded. He stepped forward, taking her wrists in hand and moving them back to his neck. "What do you want to do?" he asked.

32 nuzzled his face, exhaling like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. "Bed," she said.

They tumbled backwards as one, kissing again. Noah was already growing addicted to that sweet tang of her mouth, the little noises that she made as he arched his hips up into her so that his erection pressed against her pelvis. Her fingers undid the catch on his pants, freeing the hard length so she could stroke it. "This...this I know," she said. Her hand settled on his body, her palm warm to the touch. "This is real."

Noah nodded, not wanting to say anything to break the spell. He reached out a hand to return her touch, his hand settling on her hip. They stayed like that for a long time, just letting the moment happen. The skin under his fingers felt warm, as did her fingers on him, like their arms were conduits facilitating a connection between what they were. He was real from an outside world. She was real in here. In the moment, just their mutual touch was enough to bridge the gap.