Chapter 1
“Alert! The control point is being contested!”
The announcer's point was moot before the last word had even left her lips. Ankle-deep in what remained of the BLU Heavy, the RED Soldier admired the glorious crimson splatter on his shovel's blade. “Not today, maggots.” he chuckled, spitting over the side of the single, central control point at Nucleus.
Somewhere far below him, the harmonious ‘crack’ of breaking bones echoed. Looking over the edge, he could see that the pipes below the point had caught the hapless BLU Medic’s body. The dead Kraut would be dangling there like a discarded sock until respawn picked him up at the round’s end...and with only a few BLUs left alive, that wouldn’t be too far away. Arena...God, he loved it. The sheer hot-blooded intensity of it, the desperation that came from being moments between a few hours of oblivion or a glorious blood-stained victory...
“AUGH!” Soldier suddenly snapped back to reality as an arrow embedded itself in the floor behind him. His hand reached up to his ear, then quickly pulled away as the pain intensified. Blood on his fingers...warm, fresh...and not a filthy BLU’s. He glanced around quickly for the man who’d dared to make him bleed his own blood. But then something else whooshed past him, barely missing his other ear.
A chocked scream made him look to a nearby balcony, where the BLU Sniper wobbled around then toppled backwards comically, an arrow sticking straight up from his left eye socket. Then an unwelcome voice came from behind him; “What the bloody hell are you doin', standin' around like a bleedin' statue!? Stop playin' with yerself and keep movin'!”
Soldier shot a glare at their team's Sniper, resting the Direct Hit on his shoulder as he moved off the control point. Normally he wouldn’t have taken orders from any filthy, jar-throwing hippie. But there were still BLUs alive, and while they still were living in his world, he’d make it his sole purpose to crush every single one. One rocket was all it took to propel himself to higher ground, and a second finished off the sparking, smoking sentry gun that BLU’s Engineer had been fretting over. Another rocket barrage had the man running left and right like a wooden target in a carnival game, before Soldier finally put him out of his misery. Maggots, all of them. They were just insects, and he was the kid with a magnifying glass and a sadistic streak. Just with more explosions.
He searched around for his next target, dropping down from the slanted concrete roof and onto a balcony to reload. From up here, he could see just about everything. Engineer was wiping his brow and looking proudly at his Level 3 Sentry, Scout was running around looking for more heads to cave in. He saw the BLU Demoman collapsed in a pool of blood as Medic unleashed a Kritzkrieg, Heavy laughing maniacally as the pair headed for the point...and a momentary flicker in the air behind them.
Immediately he was in the air again, flames licking the heels of his Gunboats as he descended upon his prey. “Sneak up on MY team will ya, you scum-sucking...!”
“BONK!”
The bat sent an arc of blood into the air. The BLU Spy’s body crumpled, his once-raised butterfly knife clattering along the floor and coming to rest against Scout's cleats. “Flawless victory!” crackled over the loudspeakers as the young man grinned proudly, giving the dead man's ribs a swift kick for good measure.
“How d'ya like me now, ya back stabbin' coward? Yeah, that's right! Ya don't, because yer freakin'...dead...!” Scout trailed off, his voice squeaking as Soldier cracked his knuckles, with a glare that could melt through steel. Dropping his bat and stepping backwards onto the point, the terrified young man tried to stammer out an excuse, before a loud metallic clank cut him short. Still on the bridge, Soldier looked up to see the machinery above the point had moved. The two gigantic rings had separated, and he could see right into the glowing blue and green core, which spun faster and faster as he watched.
Suddenly, a thunderclap ran through the base, the colors merging into a searing turquoise light that expanded explosively. Already deafened by the ringing in his ears, Soldier stumbled as the light blinded him, and something that he assumed was Scout pushed past him. His hands felt the edge of the bridge, the pit and certain death waiting below as he got to his feet. Squinting through the spots plaguing his vision, he could make out the silhouette of Engineer, his arms flailing wildly to direct the rest of the team back to their spawn before he himself went inside. The only thing Engie knew better than how to make some damn good ribs, was how to work with machines. And if this machine scared him...
Soldier broke into a run, but even with the second wave of adrenaline coursing through his veins, he struggled with the injuries from his multiple rocket jumps. He gritted his teeth; real men could deal with a few sissy bone fractures. But it was then that an excruciating pain suddenly shot through his head, the shock making him trip and fall flat on his stomach, his hands clawing uselessly at the concrete floor as his consciousness faded.
Someone grabbed his arm. And the last thing he heard was the spawn door slamming shut behind him.
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“Oof-!”
Engineer fell right on his backside, his fingers losing their grip on Soldier’s jacket as he dragged him into the spawn room. His lower back ached as he slowly got to his feet, but he felt more concerned for the unconscious man his team-mates were now huddled around.
“Hey, he's not...DEAD-dead, is he? They keep respawn on even after we win, right?” Scout asked, wringing his hands. “I mean, the guy's crazier than a shithouse rat, but...aw man...”
“Rrm nrrt shrr...” Pyro scratched his head, and shrugged. “Mrrbe?”
“Figures, really...” Sniper took his hat off, solemnly holding it over his heart. “Crazy bastard. Gettin' 'imself done in loik that.”
“Vill ze concerned frauleins please step avay from ze patient?” The Medic said sternly, the others immediately taking a step back. The Doc only ever used that tone of voice when he was ready to get Heavy to play crowd control. Engineer squeezed in between Sniper and Demo as he unclipped the Medigun from his belt, pulling the handle with one hand and checking Soldier’s pulse with the other.
“...I did not ask for an audience...schweinhunds, blocking ze light...” Shaking his head and muttering in annoyance, he took a small flashlight from his pocket and pried open Soldier’s eyelid, shining the light into it. As he repeated the check with the other eye, still with no response, the mood in the room almost tangibly dropped.
Medic stroked his chin in thought for a moment. Then with one swift movement he reached into his pocket again, took out an empty syringe, and stabbed it into his patient’s hand before anyone could even think of protesting.
“OW! What in god’s name-get your filthy drugs the HELL away from me, you crazy Kraut!” Suddenly awake, Soldier pulled out the syringe as quickly as it had gone in, and leapt to his feet. Seeing what was about to happen, Heavy silently stepped forward and picked the man up by his collar, letting him dangle and struggle like an angry cat. “Put me down, Stalingrad! That's an ORDER! I'll grind your precious Herr Dok-tor into bratwurst and send him straight back to the Kaiser!”
“See, he is fine.” Completely unfazed by Soldier’s outburst, Medic adjusted his glasses, and calmly shut off the Medigun as he stood up. “Now. I vill require everyvone to report to ze infirmary - in alphabetical order - for a full medical exam. Unless somevhan has any idea vhat zat...zhing above ze point is and vhat it just did?”
Engineer suddenly felt everyone's eyes on him at once. He’d seen it coming as soon as that thing had gone off...big machine doing god-knows-what, and who’s the guy who’s always tinkering with the darn things? He coughed a little, stalling for time by wiping his forehead with a slightly greasy handkerchief. “Well...ah’m sorry t’break it to ya fellers, but ah’m stumped. That big wheel was mixin’ together the stuff comin’ in through those pipes, but as for what that stuff is and was meant to do, well...your guess is as good as mine.”
He shrugged. Most of the others looked worried, but Medic raised an eyebrow skeptically, and Spy gave a know-it-all smirk as Engineer looked at his feet. He twisted the square of cloth in his hands. He couldn’t tell them because he’d given his word not to, but that blue-green light looked familiar. Real familiar. The last time he'd seen light like that, he'd been looking into the eyes of a man insane from desperation; a man more than a century old, who'd died several times that very morning. He just wished he knew why that terrible light had come from that monstrous device hanging above the point.
“...Alright zen. I vill prepare ze eqvipment for taking ze blood samples.” Medic said far too cheerfully, eliciting a collective groan from the gathered men, but Soldier's impatient growl was even louder. The doctor looked at him like he would a piece of gum stuck to his boot. “Ah yes...Herr Soldat. Heavy, you may drop him.”
Heavy took the command all too literally, releasing his grip on Soldier's uniform and letting him fall to the ground like a sack of potatoes. He chuckled as he followed Medic through the concealed entrance to the team's living quarters and infirmary, leaving the military man to nurse his wounded pride as the rest of the team filed out.
“You gonna be okay, Solly?” Engineer asked, offering a hand and a friendly smile as Soldier stiffly got on one knee. “You took a pretty nasty-”
“Outta my way!” Soldier snarled, pushing him to one side as got to his feet, and stormed off down the waiting hallway. “Me and the kid need to have a little ‘heart-to-heart’...”
Engineer hurried after him. Usually it wasn't his job to worry about his team-mates; they'd come use his dispenser during battles, maybe talk a little about strategy or about home, and they'd be off and fighting again in no time. But he'd been looking at the point before that thing went off; he'd seen Scout kill that BLU Spy before Soldier could. And then that big machine had scared the heck out of him, and he’d been humiliated in front of the entire team, so it figured he’d be madder than a cut snake. He just hoped he could get there before Solly’s temper got the better of him.
“Son, you do realise that I could-no, I should wring your scrawny neck right here and now...” Engineer rounded the corner and saw Soldier pinning Scout to the wall, his hands in a tight grip around his neck. The younger man made a weak choking noise, a pleading look in his eyes as Soldier’s knuckles turned white.
“Solly! Leave ‘em alone, yer gonna kill the boy-!”
“But since you won us this round...” Engineer’s protests seemed to fall on deaf ears, but Soldier’s grip relaxed just slightly. “I don’t know if I should kill you, or kiss you full on the mouth.” Scout flattened himself against the wall in fright, not sure which fate would be worse.
“Instead...please accept this friendly but firm pat on the back.” Finally releasing his grip, he let the young man gasp desperately for breath before winding him again with a hefty pat. “You did good today, private! Don’t do it again!” He shouted over his shoulder as he marched towards the infirmary.
“What the hell is his problem!?” Scout coughed as soon as Soldier was out of earshot, rubbing his neck painfully.
“That’s Solly for ya. After what happened today, ah’m thinkin’ he figured he looked weak. An’ if there’s something that Solly hates, it’s weakness...‘Specially in himself.” Scout flinched slightly when Engineer gently patted him on the shoulder. “Now let’s get this here checkup finished before dinner’s ready. Don’t want Heavy to eat all the mashed ‘taters again.”
“Yeah, yeah...Soldier’s still a freakin’ crazy bastard, though.”
“Boy, didn’t your mother ever teach you to respect your elders?”
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“Fess...”
Medic took his glasses off, rubbing his temples with his gloved hands. Placing the medical record back into its folder, and putting the folder back in a neat pile with the rest, he leaned back in his chair and sighed. He’d spent hours trying to make sense of the results of his examinations, of the blood tests, of everything. Every possible abnormality he could test for, with the limited equipment he had, had come up negative. Normally he would have let it be...maybe re-test in the morning, if just as another excuse to plunge sharpened needles into exposed and trembling flesh.
But there was the issue of the sudden, strange symptoms that afflicted the team. For now, he could assume that it was due to their collective exposure to Nucleus’s core. But no kind of dangerous chemical he’d ever worked with, no radiation sickness he knew of seemed to match. And what left him particularly frustrated was there was no consistency between their individual symptoms. He’d been standing on the point, directly under the machine when it went off, and had felt strange for several minutes afterwards. He recalled that the English word for it was ‘goosebumps’...it’d made him shiver and squirm, like tiny spiders were crawling over his skin. And the feeling had returned several times throughout the evening.
And yet Heavy - he retrieved the Russian’s medical file - had experienced nothing even close to that. Instead he seemed lethargic, yawning almost constantly throughout dinner and leaving before he’d even had second helpings. Medic had later caught him snoring and resting his head on a partially-dismantled Sascha. Heavy adored his gun, often spending many quiet hours delicately cleaning and maintaining her, so seeing him asleep halfway through was more than a little worrying.
And the list of seemingly random symptoms continued as he picked up each file. The Pyro hadn’t taken his usual portion of food to his room, and mostly by gestures he’d complained of feeling nauseous. Soldier had severe headaches, and of course refused even simple painkillers on the grounds that it was weakness leaving his body. A very nervous Scout claimed he felt dizzy; something Medic would have dismissed as hypochondria if he hadn’t swayed slightly when he walked, and grabbed the door frame on the way out to balance himself.
Another file, and more notes; despite his usual suave demeanour, Spy’s skin had been feverishly hot to the touch when he’d rolled up his sleeve for the blood sample. And Sniper’s arm was covered in scratches, his skin itching but with no visible rash. At dinner Scout had subtly suggested he could have fleas, and nearly sparked a full-out brawl...whether their symptoms were connected to it or not, that machine had the entire team on edge. The only exception was their Demoman, who energetically recalled how he’d single-handedly taken out the BLU Soldier, and said he felt about ten years younger.
And then...he picked up the last file...there was Herr Engineer. He’d been arguing with Spy as they both waited outside his office, accusing him of knowing something about the machine, even though his own nervousness seemed to indicate he might not be telling the whole truth. Nonetheless, when his turn on the examination table came, he’d given his word as a Southern Gentleman that he didn’t know anything that could help in a diagnosis.
Medic had just nodded and made note of his single symptom; an almost constant thirst. But then, Engineer had been exposed to that terrible light not once, but twice. And yet it had been Soldier who’d collapsed, and now displayed symptoms much more severe...Medic clutched his head, his fingers grabbing his grey-flecked hair. None of this made any sense...but then, maybe he was trying to find patterns where none existed? They’d been at Nucleus for just three days, but it had been three days of solid fighting, and with delayed respawn. Survival was a much higher priority when you stayed dead until the end of the round...and stress was often an overlooked factor...
“Doktor?”
Medic sat up suddenly, only now sensing the large presence behind him; he’d been so deep in thought that he hadn’t even heard the door open. He turned his chair to look at Heavy, whose face was still smudged with grease from falling asleep on his dismantled weapon.
“Ees time to sleep, Doktor. Announcer says we move to new base tomorrow.”
“I am sorry, mein Heavy...” Medic shook his head, his fist thumping the top of the folder pile. “It is just...zese verdammter test results, zhey...”
“Doktor.” Heavy grabbed the back of Medic’s office chair, pulling it away from the desk. He felt a large hand on his shoulder. “Leetle papers can wait. Vas beeg day today, and ve must rest for beeg day tomorrow, da?”
“Ja.” Medic sighed reluctantly as he realised Heavy was probably right. If he left it until morning, things would probably make a lot more sense. “Ja, you are right.” He got up slowly, his spine making an unpleasant series of cracks as he straightened his back; the Medipack was murder on his lower vertebrae. Heavy’s smile turned to a worried frown, and he opened his mouth to say something before the other man waved his hand dismissively.
But Medic made no further protests as he held open the door, and followed him all the way down the darkened hallway like an oversized puppy. He was far too tired to argue. And the muscles in his back still ached terribly, even as he set his glasses on the bedside table and turned out the light, the sound of Heavy’s snoring already filling the room. At least he’d feel more flexible after a good night’s rest.