Chapter 32: Momento Mori
June 10th, 3239, 1840 hours
New York City
Rycorp Building

The appearance of these figures in the middle of a locked room did not surprise Chris as much as he thought that it would. With the Bettley 8 still clasped in his hand firmly, he looked towards his new guests and huffed in amusement.

"You're me, huh? That's something else."

The soldier spoke: "I can see that after all that's happened to you, you're still a stubborn jackass."

"Hey." Chris said pointing an accusing finger at him. "I won't be talked down to by myself."

"That's better." The soldier said.

"It's clear that you're having a clash of personalities and an inner battle of the psyche." the Gaelic warrior said in his gruff accent."

"Who are you, Sigmund Freud?" Chris growled at the warrior. "You don't think I see that everything's falling apart? You don't think I know that I'm fucked?"

"Yes, but no."

"Oh do explain." Chris said sarcastically and moved to drop the mag from the Bettley, moving to reload yet once more from the seemingly endless supply. He dropped the empty magazine into a reloading slot where an automated system slotted cartridges into the box.

"On the surface you may have come to terms with what has happened." the ancient warrior said. "But your inner self, your true self, realizes that there's no hope for you ever gaining your balance again. That's why we are here."

"He's right." the soldier supplemented. "You think if you were sane and realized that everything was sunshine and bunnies that we would be here?"

It was a hell of a compelling argument when Chris was forced to take the word of a two thousand year old warrior and a faceless mook that hid behind his balaclava. "Who... who the hell are you two supposed to be anyway?"

"What, you don't recognize me?" The soldier said first. He lifted up his balaclava and Chris realized he was staring at himself. "You wore this exact uniform during the war."

"I did?"

"You did, especially during the Costovian Raids. Particularly bloody turn of events. Must have been important enough to you for me to be wearing it. Go figure."

The Captain turned to the other vision. "And what history book did you jump out of?"

"Hah. Funny, son! I like it!"

"Well, you obviously aren't me."

"Then maybe you'd better get yer eyes check, hmm? Look at yerself. Yer name. How you always address yourself. You who call yourself Italian. You know that people have two halves to them, right? Your mother was Irish. You are still an O'Conner as much as you take your father's name!"

The figure took a breath to calm himself, which was pretty impressive since Chris was sure that he was a hallucination. Pretty sure.

"I am everything that you choose to cast down and repress in your mind. Anything you feel that wasn't important enough, you decided to place with me because you felt that was for the best. Yer heritage, yer name, yer mother..."

"No." Chris said, this time with anger. "Don't you dare bring my mother into this."

"And why can't I? She's my mother too! Maybe you don't feel comfortable with just us out here!"

"Maybe we should invite some friends..." The soldier suggested.

"No!" Chris cried. "No friends! No nothing!"

"I don't know if that's your choice anymore boyo." the warrior said in a low, amused voice. "Yer a shadow of yer former self. You have no more family. You have no more friends."

"Both of those are false."

"And they may leave you because of this... whole sordid affair. You don't think these men won't seek out your family and... deal with them?"

A brand new knot tied in his heart. He had forgotten all about his grandparents in Chicago, his aunts and uncles, how many others? They had to go save them.

"Save it." the warrior said. "You know it's suicidal. Besides, you have no ship."

"You know something? Maybe I am a bit suicidal!" Chris said, anger rising.

"Yeah? Put it where yer mouth is!"

Chris was fuming. He wouldn't be talked back to by a shadow. He looked in his hand, he still clutched the Bettley tightly in his fist. "Ready to see a magic trick?"

"This should be good." the soldier responded.

Chris looked at the gun, not thinking about anything whatsoever, his mind addled and mired so that even basic common sense had to be stamped and filed in triplicate to his frontal cortex. He gripped the Bettley's grip as if the whole gun threatened to shake itself apart, pointed it at his head, and with eyes wide open, glaring angrily at the Irish warrior, pulled the trigger.

---

"So there is no direct way to get to the government building." Sally breathed in an exhausted manner. She felt incredibly drained over the past couple of days because of everything that had happened. She believed that perhaps some drugs or chemicals in ONI's food may have taken some energy from her. Right now she felt like she was moving through molasses. Everything felt slowed down, and monochrome. For a second, she thought she was going colorblind like some of the animals on Mobius.

"Are you kidding?" Colonel Bing said bringing up a holographic representation of New York. "Look at this thing! Probably one of the heaviest guarded places on Earth." He zoomed in on the giant spire that stood out on Manhattan Island. "6 kilometers tall, filled with more twists and turns than the Minotaur's labyrinth, and positively crawling with security forces. You don't stand a chance."

It wasn't a tactical assessment. It was fact. She knew that there was no secret power of friendship or believing in yourself that could get them through this. The odds were heavily stacked and she had to accept that. But she then said, "We'll just have to get caught then."

"What?!" Sonic blurted out. "Are you going insane too?"

"No." Sally said simply. "Marshall's been content to let us go thus far, for reasons that escape me really. Who's to say that if we get caught, he he won't let us escape a nice gloating?"

"So you're suggesting we play into his hands." Rouge announced.

"No." Sally said again. "We make him think that we are. Meanwhile, we continue thinking of what happens after we get caught."

"Wow." Borne said. "That's so dumb it just may work."

Thanks for the vote of confidence, Mr. Borne. "Freedom Fighters. Do what comes naturally." She picked out Bunnie and Sonic. "Just like Robotropolis."

Sally then saw something that she never thought she would see again. A wide smile crossed Sonic's face. "Alright, I'm in!"

Bing's face also had a smile on it that was hidden with his artificial hand. It was covering his mouth as he held his chin, scanning the reactions of the Marines around him. He agreed with Borne. It may have sounded insane, but sometimes in order to get close to a target, one needed to feign capture.

Sally was about to ask the colonel about weapons, but then she did a quick headcount. They were one short, and her mouth went dry.

"Where is he." She said in absolute horror. "WHERE IS HE?!" She screamed, nearly at the top of her lungs.

Bing's mouth dropped. "Oh." he said. He pointed towards the door leading to the firing range that was clearly marked.

Nobody said anything. They were too afraid to. The blue fire in Sally's eyes terrified all of them. Even the battle-hardened veteran Colonel Maxwell Bing looked unable to answer Sally. "He said he wanted quiet."

Sally would have been flushed if her skin were visible. "You gave... a man who has tried to commit suicide many times... A GUN TO BLOW HIS FUCKING GODDAMN BRAINS OUT?!"

Even Sonic was considering running for cover.

---

Chris opened his eyes and saw a blinding light. It filled up his sight and it almost hurt.

Well. Look at that... Guess I was wrong. Looks like there is a heaven after all. Though Chris was confused. He thought if anything, he would have been worthy of hell ten times over. He wondered what it would be like to meet God or St. Peter and explain himself. He had been a naughty boy at times.

Then his vision resolved itself.

"Aw, it's just the florescents." The light had actually been the bright lamps on the ceiling. Chris found himself wondering why he wasn't in oblivion right now. He did everything right. It wasn't very hard to blow your own brains out – simply point, shoot, and presto, you now were breathing out a fourth hole!

But something was wrong. He wasn't dead. He wasn't even dying. He was perfectly fine.

"Well?" the Irish warrior said. "I'm waiting!"

Chris looked the gun over, almost worried that he was going to choke in front of the shade. He turned the gun over in hid hand and he let his head roll back in shame. He forgot to chamber the gun.

"Going for two then?" the soldier asked.

"Maybe. Hold on a second."

Chris didn't even realize that he was tackled until way after he was pinned to the ground by a green giant. The speed of the action amazed him but then he realized that there was no air in his lungs. He started gasping before his brain had totally registered that John had charged through the door, ripped the gun in half from his hand, threw it across the room, and then proceeded to hog tie the Captain with plastic zip ties.

By this time, Chris had realized what was happening and began scream madly.

"NO! NO! DON'T LET HIM HAVE THE SATISFACTION! LET ME GO!"

Sally, running into the room shouted, "TIE HIM TO SOMETHING! MAKE SURE HE'S IMMOBILE!"

"LET ME GO! LET ME GO YOU MOTHERFUCKER!"

Chris saw the Irish warrior and the soldier smirking among themselves. They knew he was weak. He only had himself to blame for not showing him he wasn't weak or scared. John dragged him by one of his immobilized arms, and he was trying to kick or wriggle out of the Spartan's armored grasp, not knowing that it was entirely pointless.

"I'M NOT SCARED! I'M NOT AFRAID!" The Captain screamed, struggling to get free from his bonds as his skin cracked and blood started to flow. "DON'T LET THEM BEAT ME! LET ME WIN! JUST LET ME WIN!" Sally looked at the feral nature that had awoken her beloved Human's eyes, stared for a second and looked away.