OTHERS (Formerly The Scarlet Effect)

51 - This Means War

I kick at Brink in attempt to break free from him, but his reflexes are no match for mine. "I don't know what the hell is going on with you, but you're going to regret this!" I warn as he tugs me toward the Landing Zone. Our feet transfer from red rock to smooth pavement as we close in on the place I never wanted to visit again.

Brink successfully gets me into the building after shoving me inside the tight doorway. The light is dim for now, but it's only seconds before the blinding white shine of the lab slaps me in the face.

Once we're inside the main corridor of Sector A, we are left to meander around tens of Programmables all frozen by Brink's presence. A few more of my jerks irritate Brink enough for him to order two lifeless bodies to seize me and follow him to the uppermost floor. I try to resist them, but their metals hands are unrelenting and grip deep into my muscles.

"Stella, where are you? Brink has gone crazy. He captured me and we're headed to Damon. Stella, please help me!

No answer.

I'm fuming.

I try to convince the robots to release their excruciating hold on me with a command, but Brink has superior authority over them, which means my words are obsolete. With both of my arms forcibly curled in behind my back by the metal machines, my power is useless, too.

"I swear, if you don't make them release me—"

The vast metal gate swings wide open before us, halting my train of thought. I remember the time when I thought these doors were beautiful, when they instilled a feeling of belonging within me. Unity. Now, the red intertwined with the other colors only burns away a hole in my heart. Acknowledging that I'm a part of this colossal wad of corruption is nothing to be proud of. I share the blame of every wrongdoing these people have committed simply because of the glowing scarlet swimming in my veins.

As we advance down the strange, colorful hallway, I continue to thrash about, though my strength is diminishing by the second and taking my confidence with it.

Brink musters the group of Programables over to a white door I've never before crossed through and, despite my fight, they persevere in hauling me along with them. "Quit fighting," he says to my mind.

"Never."

Brink rolls his eyes and thrusts open the door by the red handle. Inside is more of the same color palette as the hallway, though this time, the colors are living people. Zeriah, Xena, and Stella are all within arm's reach of Damon himself. A crying Xena currently has a device hooked to her head by a multitude of red and blue wires. In the corner, Stella is sobbing in what appears to be fear as she watches her, and Zeriah looks equally as afraid.

The Programmables release me and Brink takes a hold of my wrists and waves them off. As we come into view of the four humans—some biologically advanced, one artificially—all but Xena turn their heads. I've never felt so frightened at the sight of so many colors.

Stella instantly gasps.

"What is the meaning of this Brink?" Damon's voice pierces the air. He crosses his arms and slowly steps, one foot in front of the other, over to where we stand.

I want so badly to yell at the white man posed before me, to accuse him of ruining everything, but Brink's clutch convinces me otherwise. I hate them both.

"I've returned her to you," Brink explains nonchalantly.

Stella's sobs soften, but Xena cannot control herself. She wails as though she's being burned alive. I don't know where her mind is, but it's not here.