Wormholes and Wanderlust

Chapter 6: Warmth

Agent Phi's Perspective...

I stood in the interrogation room. Across from me, the reaper. Though all of his loose weapons and gear were removed and taken away to be studied, he remained an imposing figure. The others couldn't remove his helmet, or even cut through the exosuit. The alloy was too dense. Suspended in a restrained T-pose, he was a study in enforced vulnerability. I maintained my neutral expression, a skill honed through years of training. Every agent learned the art of emotional concealment, a necessary armor in our line of work.

I was acutely aware of Director Thaye's presence behind the one-way mirror, his silent scrutiny a constant pressure. My instructions were clear: extract information from the Reaper. I sat methodically across from him, his gaze following me through the visor of his helmet. "I am going to be as forthcoming as I can be, Reaper," I began, my voice even. "You are the first of your kind to ever be captured successfully. Consider yourself fortunate to still be alive."

The Reaper's chest rose and fell with measured breaths, his scrutiny unwavering. "Your kind are the pinnacle of human destructiveness," I continued, pausing to gauge any reaction. There was none. "You've likely murdered thousands. You appeared from the shadows only when that human boy was endangered, unleashing devastation. We want to know why. Why is he so significant?"

I pressed further, seeking any crack in his resolve. "Director Thaye was prepared to have you executed. You remain alive for a reason." Still, the Reaper remained silent. My fist clenched beneath the table, the only sign of my growing frustration.

"Fuck you," he finally muttered, his voice sounding modulated by the helmet.

"Your words are meaningless, Reaper," I responded, my voice steady. I retrieved a case from beneath the table, unveiling an array of tools designed for persuasion. Selecting a small blowtorch, I ignited it, the flame hissing menacingly. "I've been instructed to inflict pain should you not comply with my commands. Understand this, Reaper. I will extract this information...by any means necessary," I stated.

"You'll get nothing from me," came his response, defiant even in his predicament. "You should kill me while you still have the chance."

Exhaling softly, I brought the torch closer to his hand. He convulsed in pain, yet refused to scream. "Tell me...everything," I insisted, increasing the intensity of the flame.

His resistance finally broke as he let out a harrowing shriek, the sound echoing off the walls of the interrogation room. Despite my training, a twinge of sympathy flickered within me, quickly suppressed by years of conditioning. This was the job, the duty I was sworn to, no matter the cost to my conscience.

Grant's Perspective...

The storm had been a relentless, churning maelstrom, yet amidst the chaos, I found an unexpected comfort nestled close to Elizabeth. The pod was a small sanctuary against the raging tempest outside. Despite the constant patter of rainwater against the metal, exhaustion overtook us, and we fell into a fitful slumber, huddled together in the cramped confines.

My eyes fluttered open, consciousness seeping back slowly. I was laying on my stomach, my body pressed against something warm yet soaked. The sensation of a wet rug or carpet clung to my skin, and I could feel damp strands of fiber sticking to my face. Blinking away the grogginess, my vision focused on two grey shapes right in front of me. As clarity returned, I realized with a start what they were. Those weren't just random shapes; they were Elizabeth's breasts beneath her sports-bra! "Yikes!" I hissed out, a surge of embarrassment flooding me.

Hastily, I scrambled off Elizabeth, my cheeks burning with mortification. Glancing around, I noticed that everyone else was still asleep, oblivious to my awkward awakening. The storm had jostled us all into various positions, like pieces in a disordered puzzle. The group lay sprawled across each other, a chain of anthro dominoes toppled over in slumber.