My name is Yu Fei. The year is 2032. I am a soldier of the Tuaria regiment in the city of Tuaria. Yes, it’s that obvious. Anyway, the world, as I know it had, ended three years ago. Tears between realities formed all over Alagan. Monsters came through. They killed so many, displaced even more. Now, humanity clings on what remain of our forts and strongholds. I don’t even know why I’m saying all of this, it’s not like anyone is listening. 

​

Fei would sighed if he could, if his breathing wasn’t controlled by a tube down his throat, if he wasn’t fucking bedridden and unable to bat even a fucking eyelid — because his eyes were taped shut. He rolled his eyes inwardly. It was the best he could do under the circumstances. 

​

Suffice to say, desperate times calls for desperate measures. Our scientists — Fox and Surco — made a serum. Well… It makes normal people, super powered. And I’m one of them.

​

But he didn’t feel the least bit superhuman at fucking all. The noise around him had driven him crazy. It must have. The endless beeping of what’s probably his heart rate, the hiss-click of the ventilator, the random swishes and shuffles of fabric against fabric, rubber soles against plain old linoleum. The worst were the voices of people hovering around. They were so near, yet he couldn’t make them cognizant that he could hear them, was aware of them. 

 

Fei screamed. But outwardly, nothing changed. 

 

“How are we today, Corporal Yu?” a familiar voice called out and touched his arm. A pair of hands adjusted the restraints around his wrists. All standard procedure for a person supposedly comatose, lest they suddenly wake up and yank their breathing tube out.

​

Hello, Zohra. Same old, same old. And please don’t call me Yu. That’s my father’s name. Fei is—

​

“I don’t get it,” another voice rudely interrupted before Fei could finish his thought. “Why do you bother talking to him? He’s in a coma. And at the rate he’s going, he’s unlikely to wake up. I don’t even know why the fuck we’re doing this. Resources could be better spent elsewhere.” The voice scraped across his hearing — raw and cold, but nonetheless familiar. 

​

Oh fuck off, Minas. Nobody asked you.

​

Zohra sighed. “I know this is your first week in the ICU, and nobody had the time to explain who your patients are. Corporal Yu, he is special, so is Lieutenant Shin.”

 

Shin? They are also here? With me?

 

Fei stopped listening. He frowned, figuratively speaking. His memories resembled a block of Swiss cheese — full of holes. With his eyes shut, his sense of time was completely ruined. Was it day? Was it night? What day was it? Quite frankly, he wished Zohra could tell him the time and date every time she came by. If only, he could just make a—

 

He jumped. Or he would have if he could. Something warm touched his privates — a hand, a gloved one. 

 

Fuck, a little warning!

 

“Have you heard?” Minas again. This time, his voice came from somewhere further off. Plastic wrapping crinkled and tore. The hands returned again. 

 

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

​

They were cleaning him up. That much was clear now. He would never get used to it. As much as the motions were clinical and cool, it always felt like a violation every single time. Yes, it was for his own good. His body needed it, but he could still hate it regardless. 

 

“Hear what?” Zohra asked. Her voice was louder, closer to his face. She dragged a wet towel across his chest gently. 

 

Minas, on the other hand, wasn’t quite so gentle, and he had hands on Fei’s fucking dick! 

 

It’s just cleaning… just cleaning. Chill the fuck out.

 

“Fox and Surco has made another serum,” Minas replied. 

 

Wait what?

 

Fei held still and listened. He was part of the military, his body belonged to the military. And at this point, he was half a science experiment anyway. Being kept in the dark was a byproduct of being just a body on a bed. The only way he could get any intel was via gossip since nobody talked to him, not meaningfully.

 

Only five people took the serum. Shin, himself, Sabalj, Teru and Qamar. They volunteered for this. Humanity was losing the war. Alagan was being destroyed all around them. What was an experimental drug or two? 

 

And it worked. Four of them survived the serum, one died — Teru. They formed the only supersoldier squad, and they did a lot of good. With the new tech the engineers invented, they were actually closing tears, saving fucking lives. The serum didn’t just make them stronger, faster and able to endure more, it also allowed them to heal faster. 

 

But somehow, here he was — stuck. Something clearly went horribly fucking wrong.

 

“Yeah, I overheard one of them, Fox, I think, talking to Malcom,” Minas went on. “Said it would—“

 

“Minas,” Zohra hissed. “Shut—“

 

“Are you two gossiping with our patient?” A third voice interrupted. 

 

Great. Yet another person to see me naked. Why don’t we not bother with the privacy curtain anymore?

 

“Oh no. We’re just cleaning Corporal Yu up.” Zohra explained, her voice a little tight, a little flustered. 

 

Fei had gotten real good at listening for even the tiniest bit of emotion in a person’s voice. Anything to do with the serum, new and improved or not, had to be classified. Hence, why the number of supersoldiers were kept so low. Zohra could get in real trouble just listening to this BS.

 

Yes! Malcom, Minas here is shooting his fucking mouth off about classified information! Arrest the fucker!

 

Malcom did no such thing. He grunted. “Well once you’re done, I’ll need your help to get him to the scanner. We need to see where he is at with his recovery.” 

 

“Recovery?” Minas snorted. “Are you expecting him to wake up, doctor?” 

 

A hand smacked against Fei’s arm. He certainly felt that. Anger flared. Fists clenched — figuratively speaking — he poured all his will into a punch. His body predictably ignored him. 

 

“It’s not something I’m at the liberty to discuss with you,” Malcom replied dismissively. 

 

The silence that stretched was so awkward that even Fei — as much as he was enjoying picturing Minas squirm — was getting antsy. Hands draped his medical gown back over his body. They never dressed him in it, since they needed to tend to all the tubes and shit that ran in and out of his body. 

 

Fei tried to wrinkle his nose. I think you missed a spot, Minas. The tube snaking its way into his nostril was itchy. The one up his urethra was even more uncomfortable. 

 

Zohra smoothed Fei’s hair from his face. “All done.” 

 

“Minas, you can go,” Malcom ordered. “Zohra, I need your help with Fei’s scans.”

 

Up yours, Minas. Get the fuck lost! Zohra’s the trusted one here.

 

Minas made a noise at the back of his throat that spoke of irritation. Even here, at the end of the world, people found ways to be assholes. Fei wondered if all this pain and effort was worth it. He had no choice but to see this through — somehow. If he didn’t go mad soon. 

 

Between Malcom and Zohra, they got him ready for a quick little nip down to the scanner. For his part, he tried to sleep even though he wasn’t tired, his brain wasn’t at any rate. Stuff were moving all around him. Someone remembered to tuck a blanket over him. The hiss-click of the ventilator stopped. For a moment, he wondered what happened if Zohra would just not connect it to the portable ventilator or do it improperly. He wouldn’t be able to breathe. His body was that useless after all. It wasn’t the easiest way to go, but he wouldn’t hang around for very long and he could just leave. 

 

No! Stop that! What about Aliana?

 

Now, that’s a good question. That particular question filled his mind until there was nothing left.

 

----

 

“Everything looks good,” Malcom said. 

 

The bed, platform, whatever the fuck it was, hummed and stopped. Hands moved Fei’s body from that to a gurney. Or was it his bed? 

 

Can someone please tell me what’s going on?

 

“Yes. His injuries had healed nicely. I just don’t understand why isn’t he waking. The serum had taken care of his spinal fractures, the perforation to his stomach cavity. But…” 

 

A new voice. Who is this?

 

Fei stiffened — figuratively speaking — and concentrated hard. New voices were sources of suspicions. They broke the patterns he had come to expect, to cling on. His world was built around routines he knew by hard. Anything that deviated from it was enough to put him on edge. Steeling himself to being touched again, he held his breath. The ventilator breathed for him anyway, but it was the thought that counted. 

 

Right?

 

“His brain,” Malcom continued where the other voice had stopped. “Those dark spots are where the damage is most significant. I don’t know if the serum could fix them. And he’s losing weight — significantly. Healing his other injuries had taken a massive toll on his physical reserves, I don’t know if his body could handle much more.” 

 

“That’s why I’ve requested for this scan,” the new voice replied. “We have an improved formulation.” 

 

The silence rang. Fei continued holding his breath. 

 

“Dr. Fox.” Malcom cleared his throat. “So the rumours are true then?” 

 

“Rumours?” Fox asked. 

 

Oh it’s you, Fox. Dr. Alexandria Fox — one half of the pair that created the serum. The other is Dr. Summer Surco. A wife and wife team.

 

“Yes.” Malcom sighed. “People have been talking. You need to be aware when you speak about these things.” 

 

“But—“ Fox shook her head. Her hair swished against her collar. 

 

Fei frowned as he tried to remember. He had gotten the serum only six months ago. Once they were all medically cleared, the squad were thrown into missions. In between each one, the entire squad had to report in for periodical physicals. Samples were taken, scans were done and even their data from their suits were downloaded. 

 

Fox always had short black hair back then. Her wife — Summer Surco — was the one with the longer hair. But hair grew fast. Maybe it just meant she was too busy to get it trimmed? Or maybe he had been trapped in his fucking body for months and months, and things were utterly dire now?

 

What the fuck happened?

 

It wasn’t the first time he tried to piece together how his life got this irrevocably fucked. That last mission was still a black hole in his memory. 

 

An urgent mission to escort refugees from… from…

 

His mind refused to throw up the information. It wasn’t there, like it had never existed. Brain damage could be the only explanation to the fucked up memory and his condition. The knowledge loomed over him like a spectre. In fact, it was staring at him. 

 

“Yeah. I’ll be more careful. We want to test the new formula on Corporal Yu and Lieutenant Shin. Based on our testing so much, it is less taxing on the body, and it may heal their wounds,” Fox went on. 

 

“In their state?” Disbelief shook through Malcom’s voice. 

 

Yeah! In my fucking state?

 

“How long has it been?” Fox countered. “Two weeks?” 

 

Malcom didn’t reply. Fei’s heart did a leap and a dive at the same time. Two weeks in a coma. No matter how he cut it, it didn’t sound good. 

 

“Any normal person would have died out there. He and Shin made it back, the others did not. Two weeks is an eternity for people who took the serum. If we don’t try the new formula, I don’ think he’s coming out of—” Fabric swished, a sleeve against clothes. “—this.” 

 

Do I want this? I could—

 

“He could die,” Malcom pointed out. 

 

“Is he alive now?” Fox retorted. “I’m not saying that I don’t care about his life or Shin’s. But they know what they signed up for all those months ago. This isn’t about them. This is about all of us.” 

 

Fei squeezed his eyes shut and sank into the blackness that was his world now. The papers he signed made his hand ached that day. It was a stack the length of arm. That was appropriate considering the number of rights he’d be waiving with a stroke of his pen. 

 

His body was now a scientific curiosity, breakthrough and exploration all at once. He knew it before he signed it. Fox and Surco were very clear with what was to come. They didn’t want anyone to do something this big without knowing exactly what they were signing up for.

 

If he didn’t understand before he signed it, it was made abundantly clear when they got started in earnst. Things started simple. Weight and height measurements, a physical examination that left nothing to the imagination and fitness tests to start a baseline for everyone. Then, nurses drew blood, vials and vials of them. They were put through the scanners for hours at a time. Fei was convinced that there was nothing that Fox and Surco didn’t know about their bodies. 

 

Later, came material harvesting. He didn’t like those. Well, nobody did. They had biopsies done on every single major organs. And since samples of everything was needed, their bone marrow, urine and fecal material were taken as well. For people assigned female at birth, eggs. The rest, semen. 

 

Fei almost died of embarrassment when the scientists insisted on a clean sample. That meant someone else would do the extraction. There he stood in a room full of the other guys, his shorts around his ankles, holding his shirt up, while a nurse gave him a hand job. For better for worse, that’s how he met Aliana. 

 

That story is for another time.

 

Fox and Surco allowed them to walk away at every step of the process right up to the moment the serum was injected into their bodies. Once the serum was in, their bodies were no longer theirs, they belonged to the military, the state. 

 

“Fine... You’ve made your point clear.” Malcom sighed. “When is that happening?” 

 

“Soon. We have harvested the biopsies when you had him on your table. That leaves one last sample to be taken,” Fox replied. Her tone was flat and emotionless, maybe a little tired. 

 

That yanked Fei back. He was just another check on her long list of to-dos. She was the one with the weight of the world on her shoulders. He was only the grunt, the test subject. Super-powered or not, he didn’t matter. It’s the serum that would save them. As scary as everything was, the promise this new formula had of pulling him out of this fucked up situation called to him. 

 

A finger tapped against a glass screen a couple of times as Malcom sucked on his inner cheek. “Wait... the only thing left is semen.” 

 

Oh shit...

 

“I know comatose patients can still ejaculate. It shouldn’t be a problem right?” Fox asked, completely unaware of Malcom’s distress. 

 

Malcom cleared his throat roughly. “Yes, but Fei can’t consent.” 

 

“He already did when he signed the papers,” Fox replied. A rustle of papers against fabric as her voice shifted closer to Fei. “He knows what he signed up for. I have his signed consent and the video recording of it, if you require it.” Her voice sounded close now, like she was facing him — or Malcom — he couldn’t quite tell.

 

“No, no. I’ve seen it when I was assigned to treat the squad.” Malcom’s hand brushed against Fei’s arm. It rested there for a moment, squeezing it. “I understand I will...” 

 

“Do what you need to make yourself comfortable with what you have to do,” Fox cut in. “If it’s too much, I can get another doctor to take over. Silverblade, perhaps.”

 

Ahhh... There is it, Malcom. An out. You can skip out on giving me a handjob. Take it.

 

“No. I will do this. It’s only proper I see this through,” Malcom replied. “With Fei

 

Stupid man. No need to be noble under these circumstances. It’s going to be real awkward when I wake up.

 

If Fox replied, Fei didn’t hear it. Malcom patted his arm again. “Fei, let’s get you back to your bed. We have lots to discuss.” 

​

Whatever can it be about? Fei thought wryly. But well, if Malcom was going to speak to him directly, maybe things were improving — somewhat. 

 

----

 

Wha… What?

 

Something tickled their skin. Something soft and well worn dragged itself over their skin over and over. 

 

Who…

 

Aarin gathered the pieces of their mind and memory together. Their concept of time was merely a suggestion at this point. Their world was made up of planes of dark and nothingness. Consciousness had been an occasional visitor until now. 

 

My name is Aarin Shin. I’m the squad leader of a group of — no, the only group of — super-powered soldiers. All right everything checks out. No amnesia. But…

 

They remembered very little beyond that. The events leading up to their current state was a mystery. If they had to guess, a mission must have gone horribly wrong. And if they couldn’t remember, they must have hit their head pretty hard. 

 

Hands turned them onto their side. A wet cloth was dragged over their back. 

 

Aarin stiffened. Their breath caught painfully in their chest even though it was technically impossible when a tube was lodged uncomfortably down their throat, and it inflated their lungs for them. Anxiety threatened to claw up their chest and burst out of their mouth. The more awake they got, they more aware of how exposed they were. 

 

It wasn’t the nakedness that was the problem. Even though Aarin wasn’t always a soldier, after a couple of years in the military, they knew what was reasonable to expect. Between communal showers and changing rooms, they got used to going naked with others — it didn’t matter they were male, female, somewhere in between or neither of those genders. It was their chest… More accurately, the fact it wasn’t how it was supposed to be. 

 

In another life, they would have gotten their top surgery and be done with wearing their binder. But the world ended and nobody cared about top surgeries anymore. Rightly so. But… 

 

Fuck…

 

Aarin squeezed their eyes shut. The wet cloth was replaced by a dry one and then they were flipped back onto their back. If the person had cleaned their chest earlier, they weren’t awake enough to remember. For that, they were grateful. 

 

Relax… Nothing bad is happening… Just focus on getting someone’s attention. You need to figure out if the others are okay.

 

Those hands folded Aarin’s gown up to their middle, exposing everything below the waist. They gritted their teeth as those hands worked on getting some rather intimate areas clean. For whatever reason, attention there wasn’t as bad as if it had been their chest. 

 

The rake of the privacy curtain being opened and closed caught Aarin’s attention. “She look so much better,” a voice said. “She no longer look like a bag of flesh barely held together.” 

 

Fuck. How bad had it been?

 

Aarin tried to move their arms. They didn’t even twitch. 

 

“Hey, that’s not nice. And they used they/them pronouns. The lieutenant is non-binary,” the one who had been cleaning them said. “I’ve told you this before. Using the correct pronouns is the least we can do. Being respectful, Garbina.” 

 

Aarin held still and prayed they wouldn’t just dip back into unconsciousness like all the other times before. They were determined to get some fucking help. Please, help. I’m trapped. Can someone hear me? Come on, hands, feet, help me. Fucking move! They poured all their will into moving one finger, just one. 

 

Garbina snorted. “They — are you happy now? They look better. Frankly, I don’t care if they are non-binary or not. I just don’t see why we are using all our supplies on these two soldiers. They should have been put on palliative care given their state they came back in. Instead, we’re giving them the best care. We have so many other soldiers hurt that could use even a fraction of the drugs and care they are getting, Correa.“

 

Dread turned Aarin’s insides cold. How long? How long has it been? 

 

“You said it yourself. They look better. You saw their chart.  Broken ribs, lacerated liver and kidney, skull fracture and brain swelling. The works. And now, they are basically all well in two weeks,” Correa replied. “They are a miracle. Corporal Yu too.” 

 

Fuck… Two weeks.

 

“Yeah but they are not waking up, are they?” Garbina’s voice somehow managed to roll its eyes. “And have you heard? Fox wants us to administer these hormones into her — them.” 

 

This isn’t how it supposed to go. The serum is supposed to heal us up quickly. If it’s been weeks, what does that mean for me?

 

As much as Aarin could do without the constant misgendering, it was all this new information they were now learning that pinged their brain with alarm. Get it the fuck together. Freak the fuck out later. Intel first. 

 

“Hormones?” Correa echoed Aarin’s question. The rattle a glass vial against a metal tray filled the lull in the conversation. 

 

“Look. Here are the orders.” Garbina shifted. Her uniform rustled. 

 

For a while, nobody spoke. Aarin waited. They could be patient, they were forced to be anyway.

 

“Oh… Fox wants to harvest their eggs,” Correa whispered. “But—“ 

 

The privacy curtain rustled again. “That’s right.” A third voice said. 

 

This one Aarin recognised. They had seen her many times before this. Hellen Silverblade, a trauma surgeon, but she was one of the two doctors cleared to treat supersoldiers. 

 

“Isn’t it invasive? Especially when the Lieutenant can’t consent?” Correa asked. Her concern was clear in her voice. 

 

Aarin was grateful that they had someone like Correa to advocate for them. At the same time, they knew the answer was moot. They had already signed away their rights when they volunteered for this. 

 

“They had consented when they joined the programme. Don’t worry. Let me take care of them.” Hellen said. 

 

A hand held theirs. “Aarin, I don’t know if you can hear me. But if you can, know that I’m going to start hormone therapy for you. It will stimulate your follicles, and we will be harvesting the eggs once there are enough of them. It shouldn’t be too long. Thankfully, we caught you at the start of your cycle so there won’t be any delay. Meanwhile, the team will manage any side effects we have.” 

 

This is it. This is my chance. Aarin tried their best to move their hand, their finger, even just their little finger tip. They should have been vibrating from the sheer intensity they had been trying. 

 

“What a waste of drugs,” Garbina hissed softly. 

 

That shook Aarin right out of it. The silence that rang in the wake of that was loud enough to deafen even them. Knowing Hellen, they could imagine her laser withering gaze. “Garbina, please see to your duties. Correa, please assist me.” 

 

The privacy curtain parted, but it wasn’t drawn close immediately, indicating a huffy exit. If Aarin wasn’t focused on getting Hellen’s attention, they would rolling their eyes at such unprofessional behaviour. 

 

Hellen withdrew. Medical instruments were being rattled somewhere off to the side. She issued instructions as Correa turned Aarin onto their side again. 

 

Come on, come on, come fucking on!

 

Correa pulled Aarin’s gown away, exposing their butt. A cold stinging sensation spread as antiseptic was wiped over the area the injection was going to go. A snap of gloves over hands made them flinched.  This not knowing what’s going on around them was doing a number on their head. A soldier was all about situational awareness. This was a special kind of hell. 

 

Please, just twitch. Just the pinky will do. I can do that much I’m sure.

 

They put all their effort into trying to move, to speak, to just do something other than being a limp meat bag to be manipulated by others. 

 

“Here, Dr. Silverblade,” Correa said.  

 

“Thank you,” Hellen replied, taking the syringe from her. “Here goes, Aarin. A deep breath please.” 

 

Aarin didn’t brace for it. They were busy trying to fling themselves off the fucking bed. A sharp sting stabbed their butt. It took their breath away. Pain spread into their muscle as Hellen depressed the syringe. 

 

“All done now. We will be administering these twice a day for the next week or so. Meanwhile, we will be doing ultrasound checks to see how well your body is responding to the drugs. I’ll will be doing that particular procedure.” Hellen’s hand covered their own. 

 

Aarin clenched their fist. They could easily crushed Hellen’s hand in theirs before. 

 

Hellen sighed, rubbing her thumb over their knuckles. “Wake up soon. Joy misses you. See you tomorrow.”

 

And she left. 

 

Aarin screamed. Frustration poured over. Their body hadn’t been their favourite thing for the longest time. It never matched their mental image. But this was some next level bullshit. It refused to listen to the simplest of requests. Tears stung the corners of their eyes. 

 

A pair of feet shuffled up to them. “Oh… Lieutenant…” It was Correa. She pulled the tape off their eyes and dapped a tissue over them to dry them. Sighing heavily, she whispered furtively. “This is kind of weird. Talking to you like this, but… if Dr. Silverblade could do it, I guess it’s not that weird. I hope you can hear me. Just know that I will take good care of you until you’re well. I’m erm… I’m going to help you wear a pad, cause you’re on your cycle. It won’t be very comfortable but it’s more sanitary. Don’t worry, your wastes are taking care of by the catheter. The pad is just for your cycle.” 

 

Hands worked Aarin’s legs and hips. Correa adjusted the tubes that snaked into their intimate bits. Those were uncomfortable, but their mind was stuck in a loop of trying and failing wIth nothing to show for all their effort except for the tears on their face. Even those were wiped away, erasing everything. Tape was replaced over their eyes again, sealing them in on themselves. 

 

Stuck in the darkness, utterly alone, helpless and voiceless, despair opened its maw at Aarin as they stood on the precipice of it.