Mirror [Reverse AU] [Completed]

Chapter 16

The small, metal room was cramped but packed with machinery designed for healing, repairing and researching. The beeps and clicks from the computers resonated through the metal, echoing the eternal life of the stations. Every vital command originated here, and the size was appropriate for the trivial transport.

The infirmary portion of the room was active, with an albino residing on the retractable bed. His brunet lookalike burned his mind on the technology, working himself like a slave. His hands sewn commands on computers like fabric on a spindle; rhythmic, systematic and interminable.

"Do that again, and I'll leave you to your death," Boboiboy quipped, hands flying through keyboards of the healing schematics. "Why in the name of god would you barge into TAPOPS like that?"

Reverse glared at his twin, his shirt removed for a better inspection. His chest was bruised purple and shattered bones of his ribcage threatened to stab his flesh and organs. "Well, nice to know that you still hate me in death," he groaned, staring at his brunette sibling who was manning the healing stations. A semi-cylindrical glass lid slid over his infirmary bed, forming a pod that enhanced his healing rate and monitored his body conditions.

Boboiboy snorted. He whipped his swivel chair around in a fluid motion and propelled himself towards the informative computers, which pumped out information faster than he can digest. He'd managed to hack into Databot's systems before he was brutally murdered, which enabled him to access the same network with him, thus gaining all the information they needed and mask their presences.

The elemental user leaned back in his chair, releasing sighs of relief and exasperation. The screen proceeded to cough up data that was random and disposable, and occasionally that he preferred to forget. (No one wants to know why Papa Zola has Mama Zila waxing his legs. It was more painful and cringe worthy than informative.) It was a miracle that he was able to escape the fate of death. Even more so when he arrived in time to prevent Fang from murdering his brother.

He closed his eyes as the thought of his former team intruded his train of thoughts. What would they think of him now? His secret was out for the better or worse. They had once been a carefree team, with the singular purpose of defending the Earth. He had almost been led to believe so.

Once, he believed that the path of a hero was possible, so within his reach. It was like the old folk's tale of the fox and the grapes. Watchable, dreamable—but in the end, it was all an illusion, a false hope.

Intaking a deep, painful breath, he forced his eyelids to raise and face the reality before him. There were no more fairy tales for him to live, for the cold corpse of his childhood innocence had been laid for him bare.

He directed the mouse with cold hands, eyes falling on the infinite text that Databot was processing through.

Poor thing, he thought. Always thinking. No time for a peace of mind.

Browsing through the information that TAPOPS was questioning the power sphere, he realized that they were still searching for the origin of their abilities. If Ochobot didn't grant them their powers, then who did?

Simple. It was Retak'ka. The voiceless answer was sufficient to calm his mind. None of the adventures he'd experienced was genuine. He was living a lie.

The groan of his twin brother snapped him from his daze. The latter had woken from his nap, and he was bored regarding the situation's blandness.

"Can you stand?" Boboiboy turned his chair towards him. The albino had nearly dosed off in boredom. Only he would be able to sleep through the pain of shattered ribs and broken bones.