What the Fuck (Part 2)

What the fuck. This day just took a shit on me. I am lost. I am confused. I am hurt. I am sad. I am fucking angry.
 
The hangar wall lit up while we were working. Every screen, a different feed. Holiday of First Giving. People sharing food. Giving what they have to those with less. I told them my sisters loved this holiday. They’d drag me along to help neighbors, clean houses, and haul supplies. I used to pretend it was a waste of time. It wasn’t. I liked watching them give things away. I actually enjoyed hauling the baskets of food for them to the neighbors' houses. Cutting their grass, I would even take off my shirt for the old widows while I did it. Not for me, for them. I don’t know when I stopped thinking about that.
 
Then the screens changed.
 
Private signals. Hijacked feeds. The hangar tech started behaving like it was hunting something. Targeting Lux. The images twisted. The light pulled itself into shape. The shape of what I presumed to be Adrian. The others were not familiar with the reality drama that followed Lux. I was. I recognized him before Lux said his name. Runner-up on a pop competition from seven years ago. I used to watch it with my sisters. They loved him. Loved Lux more. I explained to the others what happened at the end of that show. Both contestants were changelings, and both contestants claimed to be Lux Silvers.
 
Lux broke. She said that Adrian wasn’t supposed to be this powerful. Said she was supposed to be locked away. This seemed to be a message to Lux. "I can get to you here, I can get to you anywhere." Was this "Adrian" working with the Derimetru too?
 
Questions followed. Kii pressed gently. Echo dug through the net. A breakout. Adrian possibly loose. Lux ran. Xhoya followed. Echo kept digging. I filled in what I could. I knew the story better than most. I wish I didn’t.
Lux came back eventually. Slipped at the end. Yelled something she didn’t mean to.
 
“I’ve only been Lux for seven years!”
 
That stuck... The Lux we know is in fact, Adrian from the show. I can't trust her now, not yet. What does this mean in moving forward? I think I will keep quiet for now, let Kiielien and the others deal with it.
 
 
What the fuck…
 
What Echo found next dropped me. Rocked me to my core.
 
Echo found a blocked BRN file. It required high-level credentials to access. Mine didn’t work. None of ours did. That’s when it clicked. Zero gave us the fake identities. My captain credentials worked. Echo proceeded to open the file. The file was called Ghost Protocol. It wasn’t long. It didn’t need to be.
 
It detailed a top-secret soldier acquisition program. Non-voluntary. Prison extraction, in my case. The program included memory suppression for controlled activation cycles. Long-term stasis between deployments. Not frozen. Stored off and on for over a hundred years.
 
I’m not missing from the system. I’m hidden.
 
It is normal to not be privy to top-security information. Why would a dumb soldier like me need access anyway? However, it is not normal for the BRN to have programs like this — or to force soldiers into them without consent. This is the first time I am actually questioning the heart of the BRN. I knew they were cold and calculative, but this is cold even for me.
 
It hurt…
 
That’s why my family never responded.
That’s why the dates never lined up.
That’s why I always felt out of step with the world.
 
They didn’t abandon me.
 
They’re dead.
All of them.
 
I don’t know when it happened. I don’t know what they thought. I don’t know if they knew what I became. I don’t know how long I sat there. Gidget hugged me. Kii hugged me too. At the same time. It caught me off guard. I didn’t stop them. I didn’t want them to stop. That probably says something. They really do care, I feel like I am starting to as well.
 
I turned the music up after that. Loud. Heavy. Drank until the noise dulled. Silas and Jubilee drank with me. We talked about everything and nothing. I don’t know how to show my emotions. I don’t know how to let these people in. I have never felt more vulnerable or more lost. I have no direction. No true identity. I am a killer, made to be this way. The alcohol and music hid my emotions, dulled my feelings. I pretended that all of this was not happening. Maybe I will wake up to a dream?
 
Will this be my identity until I die — soon?
Can I save myself from what I have become?
Do I even want to?
 
What the fuck now?
 
I am purposeless. I am fuelless. I am broken. I’ll put on a brave face and step forward to protect the others from what I fear will come next. But it all feels empty. I feel alone.
 
Now I’m sitting here trying to write this like it’s a report. Like there’s a conclusion I can draw. A course of action.
 
There isn’t.
 
I wasn’t born for this.
I wasn’t trained for this.
I was built for it.
 
Groomed and chosen by the BRN.
 
I don’t know what that makes me — Jaxion — now.
 
God help the next mother fucker to cross me...