**Created by:** Genezhine **You Can Find Me At:** ‘genezhine’ or ‘gene’ --- DATE: SEPTEMBER 2048 LOCATION: UNKNOWN TO: ANYONE WHO RECEIVES FROM: NON-PATRIATED ANTONOV <br> Phantom pain is no joke. I can still feel the scalding fires against my imaginary skin gnawing away at the flesh while the grenade fragments dug deeper through my muscles eventually penetrating and shattering my bones. I am in constant, agonizing, pain. Sure, the morphine and, the countless other chemicals they pump into my frail body, makes me numb to the physical torment. However, my mind remains a blended mixture of puzzle pieces of the past being replaced piece by piece with new ones. That is what they do here. They bring us in, fix us up, scramble our minds and bodies, until eventually the time comes to be deployed. I have accepted my faith, there is nothing I can do to prevent my inevitable ascension into madness. I have to obey my orders, and obey my superiors if I want to stay afloat. This is just how my world works right now… there is absolutely nothing I can do. I am desperate, yes, but Ivan wouldn’t let me give up. I can feel his presence during my struggles, I can hear his voice in my head telling me to keep going, there is a beautiful and lush paradise awaiting me at the end of these dark corridors. I cannot thank him enough for his support, my brother and I were always close, helping out during covert operations in our past. He was my right hand man, as was I his. Today started out as all of the other days, it was just this time I had gotten fairly used to my new prosthetics. Don’t get me wrong, it still felt like titanium nails were burrowing into my flesh where my legs and arm used to attach. During these familiar episodes of exaggerated pain, the physical therapy felt like a nightmare. My personal therapist, Doctor Vitali, specialized in physical and mental practices for recovering veterans and military personnel, attended to me like any other day. Sprint tests, strength evaluation, range of motion and rotor functions testing and several mental stress tests were conducted. But this was nothing new to me, me and Vitali’s doctor-to-patient relationship had strengthened ever since we spoke for the first time inside the dark interrogation room inside this facility. I passed the tests without failure. Vitali always treated me with care and respect, they were my doctor after all, but that didn’t stop them from taking a liking to me. It seems the company policy states that doctors and patients are not allowed to have interaction of any kind outside of scheduled appointments. They do not state the consequences of failure to comply with said policy, but one can at least deduct that you won’t be seeing these white halls ever again. Vitali is very aware of these risks, but that doesn’t stop them from throwing some extra rations and meds my way from time to time. The daily field training started about fifteen minutes after therapy. There is no strict time set due to the unpredictability of the Dome. They throw us in there in groups, sometimes three, sometimes five, of us have to endure it together. Today I was thrown in with two other enhanced soldiers, one had had their whole back replaced as well as half of their skull. The other one had orthotics mounted inside their pelvis and torso due to paralyzation. We never learn each other's names, it’s for the best they tell us, it’s not a risk they are willing to take. To counter this they instead give us code names, which are integrated into our training gear, so when we’re out on the field we are able to at least communicate in some way. We were set to be on recon duty today, just executing standard protocol and scouting a designated area. Not to sound too frank, but it was boring. We ended up laying down in the muddy grass and let our minds drift away as our eyes scanned across the artificial sky. No one ever questioned or wondered why we were locked in here, not even training under a real sun, we’d grown numb to it. Ares, their code name was, took aim and shot down a panel from the artificial sky. The panel sparked and fell down, landing in a nearby tree. The alarms blared moments after. Another assignment finished. Right after, subjects gathered in the damp and warm cafeteria to quench their thirst and hunger. We only get fed once a day, so this period is highly acknowledged as a quiet and peaceful time. Fights still broke out from time to time, but the people involved were guaranteed to never cause problems again. During my time in the queue for the food I had one of my episodes again. I saw them. Some people were chatting further down the queue, and their faces seemed… familiar. I had seen them before, interacted with them. But I never manage to complete my recollection before someone behind me gives me a light shove. We get some free time between lunch and bedtime. This freetime is spent in our rooms, no social interaction. I usually spend the time drawing or inscribing on the wall just whatever comes to mind. Strangely enough, I got an unprecedented letter shoved under my door earlier. It startled me, I heard no footsteps outside, no shadow waving past the light peeking from under the door either. It contained a cipher. Thankfully, I had retained my knowledge of deciphering code since before the ‘30s. Unluckily, it revealed a morse coded message, and I can’t for the life of me remember the process. I will present the morse code down below, hoping you can help me: ... --- ..- - .... .-- . ... - ... . -.-. - --- .-. .- ..-. - . .-. .-.. ..- -. -.-. .... -- . . - .. -. -- .- .. -. - . -. . -. -.-. . .-. --- --- -- ... --- ..- - .... .-- . ... - .-- .. -. --. The alarms just startled me. That means it’s time for bed, no sound, no movement in the rooms. Excuse my derailment, but I am desperate to hear back… hopefully this time this message actually reaches the outside. Antonov, signing out.