The darkness that surrounded Kwandezi wasn't of the Void. It was a sterile, clinical blackness that smelled of antiseptic and ozone, a scent as foreign and unwelcome as the cold, hard slab he was lying on. He was bound at the wrists and ankles, and every nerve in his body screamed with a phantom agony. He had ripped out his own heart. He had failed. He was alive.
God dammit. I'm a failure even at dying. What a pathetic existence, he thought, the sarcastic, bitter voice in his head a familiar companion.
The door to his cell hissed open with a hydraulic thud, revealing two figures in the sterile light. The first was Captain Akanni, a titan of a man with eyes that pulsed with a quiet, burning red light. The second was Aisha, her face a pale mask of conflicting emotions. Her eyes, filled with fear and pity, were an open wound to his soul. He hated them both. He hated the Captain for capturing him, and he hated Aisha for seeing him. He hated that she had seen the terrified, lonely child hiding inside the monster.
"So, you're awake," Captain Akanni's voice was a low, gravelly hum, as cold and unyielding as the man himself. He looked at Kwandezi not with fear, but with the dispassionate, scientific interest of a researcher studying a new specimen.
Oh, great. The big man is here to lecture me about my pathetic life. Let's get this over with, Kwandezi thought, his inner voice a torrent of cynical defiance.
He just stared at the Captain with a cold, detached emptiness that was a reflection of the Void Host's own apathetic nature.
"You're not going to talk, are you?" Captain Akanni's voice held no impatience, only a quiet, burning focus. "I'll do the talking. We ran some tests on you while you were unconscious. Your healing factor is instantaneous. Your heart regenerated in less than thirty minutes. Truly... a magnificent tool."
Kwandezi's eyes, dull and lifeless, fixed on the man. "So, you're going to use me. Is that it? Another tool for your pathetic organization?" His voice was a dry, rasping sound, heavy with a lifetime of cynicism.
"Exactly," the Captain said, a thin, humorless smile on his lips. "We have a saying in Division Six. We don't fight fire with fire. We fight fire with the fire-proof. You are immune to all forms of energy, all forms of power, all forms of life. You are the perfect anti-thesis to the Void. You are the perfect weapon."
Listen to him. He knows what you are. A tool. Nothing more. He's trying to make you angry. Don't fall for it, the Void Host's voice was a triumphant, mocking echo in the back of his mind.
"I won't do it," Kwandezi said, his voice a quiet, furious whisper. "I won't be your weapon."
"You don't have a choice," the Captain said, a new, more menacing note entering his voice. "We can keep you here, in this unit, for the rest of your life. Or you can work for us. You can atone for the damage you have caused."
Aisha stepped forward, her hands clenched into fists, her voice a plea. "He's not a monster! You can't do this! He just needs help."
God, no. Not her. Not the pity. It's worse than the rage. The pity is a lie. She's a fool, Kwandezi thought, his inner voice a torrent of self-loathing.
He hated her for her pity. He hated her for her belief in him. It was a terrifying feeling that brought the Void Host back to the surface, its presence a cold, resentful weight in his chest.
"You don't understand," the Captain said, his eyes fixed on Aisha. "He's not just a weapon. He's a liability. We need a way to stabilize him. We need an anchor. You are his."
Aisha's eyes widened with a terrifying understanding. She was not just a fellow operative. She was a tool. She was the one who could calm the storm inside him. She was the only one who could reach him. She was a leash, and he was a monster.
Kwandezi's entire body trembled with a quiet, furious rage. He was not just a prisoner. He was a slave to his own emotions, a puppet on a string, and the string was Aisha. He was a monster, a curse on humanity, and he was going to be a weapon in a war he had no interest in fighting.
"You need a reason to fight," the Captain said, his voice a low, gravelly hum. "A reason to keep the Void Host at bay. I can give you a reason." He leaned in, his voice a chilling whisper that only Kwandezi could hear. "I know why you hate yourself. The Veil knows who killed your mother. We can give you her name. You can have your revenge. All you have to do is cooperate."
Kwandezi's body went rigid. The cold, detached rage that had been a part of him for so long was replaced by a new, more terrifying emotion: pure, unadulterated hatred. He had a purpose. He had a name to whisper in the darkness. He had a reason to live. And he was going to find the man who had taken his mother from him, and he was going to make him pay. He was a monster, but he had a purpose. And he was going to fulfill it. The game had just begun.
Aisha watched Kwandezi's face, her heart in her throat. The anger in his eyes was replaced by a look she had never seen before: a terrifying, cold hatred. She knew what the Captain had said to him. She knew what he had promised. And she knew that whatever it was, it was not good.
"What did you tell him?" she asked, her voice a desperate whisper. "What did you say to him?"
The Captain just smiled, a thin, humorless expression that held no warmth. "I gave him a reason to live. A reason to fight. And a reason to do as he's told. He's no longer just a weapon. He's a perfect soldier. And he's all ours."
Aisha looked back at Kwandezi, her heart filled with a terrible, cold dread. She had tried to save him. She had tried to reach him. But the Captain had found a way to use his pain against him. He was a prisoner of his own emotions, and now he was a slave to his own rage. He was a monster, but he was a monster with a purpose. And she was his anchor. She was his leash. And she had no choice but to be a part of his war.
"What have you done?" she whispered, her voice a plea.
"I gave him a new purpose," the Captain said, a glint of something cold and ruthless in his eyes. "He is now a part of our war. And he will do as he is told. He will be our monster. And he will hunt their monsters. We will win this war, no matter the cost."
The containment unit's door hissed open once more. "Let's go," Captain Akanni said, a finality in his voice that left no room for argument. "We have a new mission. We are going to find the man who killed his mother. And we are going to use him to train our new asset."
Aisha stood frozen in place. She looked at the boy in the containment unit, his face a mask of cold, unyielding hatred. He was no longer a person. He was a monster. But he was a monster with a purpose. And she was a part of his war. She had no choice but to follow.
I have to save him. I have to find a way to reach him. I have to find a way to save him from himself. I have to.