Blood of My Death

Blood of My Death: The Ancient Earthscrapper - Chapter One - Part Three

Memory Series Sequence 482000152451983 beginning...

Memory Series Sequence 351001002451983 beginning...

Memory Protocol Active...

Building Memory Database-002-0909...

Start Memory Sequence...

Sequence Memory Active... Beginning waking sequence now...

I awoke from a deep slumber on the private jet owned by DNA Labs. The grogginess weighed me down like a heavy anchor, and as I blinked, I tried to piece together the events leading up to this moment. The two-hour and forty-five-minute drive to the airport seemed like a distant memory, barely a whisper in the recesses of my mind.

The memory of boarding the plane or feeling the exhilaration of takeoff eluded me entirely. Time had become a nebulous concept, and as I gazed out of the window, all I could discern was the velvety, moonlit sky stretching out into infinity.

Beside me, Kristonia stirred, her eyelids fluttering as she, too, emerged from the depths of slumber. Her hazel eyes widened as she cast a bewildered glance at the darkness beyond the window.

"Eh... What? It's night already. We just...," she muttered, her fingers coming to rest on her temple as if trying to quell an impending headache.

Concern flooded me as I reached out, my voice laden with worry. "Hey? What's wrong, Kris?"

She sighed, her expression fraught with discomfort, her fingers continuing their gentle massage on her temple. "Damn... I just had vertigo or something. My head is killing me," she admitted, her voice low and strained.

I couldn't help but worry for her well-being. "Are you going to be, okay?" I inquired; my voice laced with genuine concern.

Kristonia winced, then slowly reclined in her seat, a shiver of discomfort coursing through her. "Yeah, it's going away now. But forget that. Are we there yet?" she asked, sitting back up, her curiosity replacing her momentary distress.

A sigh of relief escaped me, though the sense of unease still lingered. "No. Still in the air," I replied, glancing out of the window. "The flight is taking longer than I expected. Maybe we're going to a different facility?"

Kristonia's brow furrowed in disbelief. "What? They plan to take us to the other side of the moon. My ass is killing me!" She exclaimed, her frustration palpable.

I tried to reassure her, hoping to alleviate her discomfort. "I'm sure it's not much longer," I said, though the uncertainty tugged at my own composure.

She leaned back in her seat, reaching for her holo-Phone. I followed suit, my fingers flicking the holographic display open to check for any messages. It was a shared moment of restlessness and curiosity, both of us yearning for answers. We should have reached our destination by now, considering the research I had done earlier on my laptop. The flight was supposed to be a mere few hours from home, yet here we were, suspended in the obsidian embrace of the night.

Life Foundation, a prestigious organization, arranged our luxurious flight. They were renowned for their philanthropic endeavors and had close ties to DNA Labs. Our transportation was nothing short of extravagant—a private jet outfitted with plush leather seats reminiscent of recliners, a cutting-edge entertainment system, and even a well-stocked bar tended to by a professional mixologist. It was a mode of travel that typically catered to the elite and being here felt surreal.

Aside from Kristonia and me, the plane carried only a select few: two seasoned pilots, the bartender above, and two members of the office staff. As I settled back into my seat, a sense of being a VIP en-route to an exclusive event washed over me. The notion of boarding a private jet had never even flickered in the corners of my imagination. It was an experience I had never dared to dream of.