Chapter 9

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Eli's skull splintered right down the middle, cleaving his brain at the seam, tearing him in half. 

At least that's what it felt like.

Clutching his head, he fell out of the desk chair and onto the floor, rolling against the carpet, groaning at the agony bouncing between his temples and down the back of his cranium.  Images flashed across the back of his eyelids, too fast, too bright. Glowing green spheres.  Metal walls. Numbered doors.  Images he's never seen before, yet memories he recognized.

Like a déjà vu seizure.

Up and down his limbs phantom sensations assaulted his neurons—the prick of a needle in his neck, the cold kiss of metal against his shoulder blades, the uncomfortable pressure of rounded objects against his shins.

Shit, shit, the pain was so bad. He was going to puke.

Panting, he rose up on shaky arms to glare at the monitor. Through wet eyes, he could just make out the bold white text repeating over and over across the entire screen.

Wake up, Eli.

A chill fell over him, nipping at his skin, his bones.

The fuck?

How did the computer know his name? What was happening?

New images flooded his brain and drowned out any rational explanations. Flashes of a facility.  An operating table.  Some kind of vision apparatus.

God, it was too much.  Too intense.  Too frightening. He couldn't survive this much longer.

Nauseous, he stumbled for the desk, grasping tight to the edge and slowly pulling himself up to the keyboard.  He slammed his hand down on the Escape button. Then F1.  His trembling fingers even attempted Ctl-Alt-Delete.  Anything to end the torment.

But instead, the text just changed to a different message. 

It's all a lie.

Trust no one.

Eli squinted at the glitching monitor, the ominous words, breathless.  But he could feel something loud blooming inside him, pressing out against his tissues, claiming space in his soul, demanding attention.  These images, these feelings...he could see the silhouette now, a blurry shape, a hazy picture.

He'd unlocked a shredded memory, but only because no one had burned the scraps. No one had eliminated the emotions associated with his experience.  The trauma.  The betrayal.  The grief.  Those feelings couldn't just be erased—not that easily.

Staggering to his feet, he glared up at the popcorn ceiling and the false gods of this world.  Yes, yes, he remembered now.  The bots.  The simulation.   

Genesis.

Get out, the computer read.  Get out.  Get out! Get out!

"I remember!" he bellowed to the sky, voice hoarse and broken.  "I know where I am.  I know what you've done!"

He heard Lucas running down the hall, his alarmed shouting barely audible against the thunderous pulse inside Eli's head.

Out! Out! Out!

"Take me to Genesis!" he demanded, wincing against the pressure in his head, the pain at his nape.  "Don't make me force a glitch."  

Tears formed in the corners of his eyes when no answer came.  Tears of frustration.  Tears of anger. 

"I said take me to him!" he screamed, and the computer beside him suddenly burst into flames.

Swearing he stumbled backward and away from the heat.   Like the fury inside him, the fire enveloped the desk.  Painted the barren walls. Scorched the plaster.

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