To Be A Leader

Chapter 49: I Seek The Truth

I walk along the corridor, the harsh white light from the ceiling lights reflecting against the tiles, nothing but the sound of my footsteps filling the air. I look down at the clipboard in hand, frowning at the many different formulas and codes I don't recognize.

Where am I?

I look around, trying to find some semblance of familiarity, but this place feels like a faded dream. Any recognition I might have slips away like smoke between my fingers.

I've been here before. I've been...

I pause and look down at my attire, the lab coat I'm wearing. I look down at my clipboard again, my eyes scanning the word 'eggs' and '5/5', along with the date.

April 6, 2000.

This was over twenty years ago.

I blink in confusion, but keep walking, going where my feet tell me to go rather than risk looking around and getting into trouble. Dreams like this can be very tricky, but I have a feeling I've been whoever I am before. It's just hard to tell who since I've seen through the eyes of so many people.

I keep moving, a few people passing me, all wearing clothes similar to mine and all walking with purpose. I don't appreciate their side-eyes or the way one man glares at me. I remember him, I think. I remember the face he's wearing, anger and hatred and a hint of something else I can't quite understand.

I reach the door to an office. On the door, in silver letters reads a name.

Professor Cassandra Feive.

My blood turns to ice in an instant.

Oh.

Oh, it's one of those dreams.

I look around, waiting for the Original to suddenly jump out and stab me or something, but nothing happens. I'm still left with the empty silence that fills the hallway, just like it was before I knew who I currently am.

With cautious hands, I grab the cold doorknob and turn, hearing the slight click before pushing it open. I don't know what I was expecting. It's just an ordinary office, with papers on the desk, and a computer-a very 2000-esc computer-and a filing cabinet.

I sit down at the desk, drumming my fingers along the wood, waiting for something to happen, but nothing does. I look at the computer in front of me, and I reach for the power button, then decide against it. I doubt I would be able to crack the password. I don't even know what I would be looking for.

I look at my reflection on the black screen. I look older than the last time I was her, although the last time I was her was in the late 80s, so it's not surprising that she'd look older after a decade or so. She-I-look so tired, so much older than I should be. The years have not been kind, but I suppose that's the price of her work.

She created us to be a soldier, used to do what she liked. Whoever she was loyal to, we were to be loyal to. I can only wonder how badly things would have gone if this project had gone smoothly and Pro. Feive had sided with someone like Van Ark, or Sigrid. I remember her saying she didn't trust the scientists there who worked with Van Ark, but people change a lot over the years.

I stand and open the filing cabinets, starting from A and moving down. I don't see much of anything useful. I mean, it may be useful, but I can't understand most of the terminology. I pause when I reach P, and see a tab that says 'Potential Parents' and then certain years.

1984
1987
1993
1996
2000

The years we-the members of this team-were meant to be born.