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| AM 6701 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jan 28 2018, 12:29 AM (31 Views) | |
| Elijah | Jan 28 2018, 12:29 AM Post #1 |
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We are in the library at the Academy. Elijah sits, cross legged, on a chair of evident age, his eyes fixed on the laptop in front of him. The banner at the top of the page reads SSRI Exposed . Elijah is still, motionless, his eyes fixed unblinking at the screen before him. Page after page of dates, names and details, records of one atrocity or another. Suddenly, the silence is broken by the sound of the Skype ringtone. Elijah visibly jumps, eyes wide, brought back into the moment. He pauses to gather himself, then clicks “answer". A familiar face fills the screen. Amber: Elijah. Elijah: Amber. Amber: Interrupting something? You look like you've seen a ghost. Elijah: After a fashion. Amber: The Institute? Elijah: Indeed. Amber: That's why I called, as it happens… Elijah: Oh? On screen, Amber reaches behind her, pulling out a tattered scrap of paper. She holds it up to the camera. Amber: Some random sent me this the other night. I figured, weird shit with no explanation, you'd be my go to guy. “AM6701”. Figured AM meant Anthony MacMillan. The rest...Any thoughts? Silence. Amber: Elijah? He shakes, as if waking himself up. Elijah: This was sent to you anonymously? Amber: Yes. You know what it is. I know you do. Elijah: I…. Amber: Yes? He closes his eyes a moment. Elijah: Un. Amber: What? Elijah: Un. Amber: Right… Elijah: The….the Institute. They used Enochian in their security codes. Security clearance would be noted by one's Enochian letter. Prisoners, too, were categorised in the same way. Amber: What about the rest? Elijah: The Pit beneath the House of the Will has eight exits, each of them opening to a different part of the building. Cells are arranged in pairs, opposites. 6 Amber: So it's a map? Elijah: Of sorts. And you have no idea who is responsible? Amber: No. You think it can be trusted? Elijah: I believe it provides the location of Anthony MacMillan. Amber: That doesn't answer my question. Elijah: With the Institute, nothing is to be trusted. Even yourself. Block Amber: Yes? Elijah: Was mine. Many years ago. Pause. Amber: So...more mind games? Is MacMillan even in there? Is it a trap? Should I go? Elijah: Yes, yes, yes - and perhaps. If it is a trap, the question then is whether you believe it to be one from which you can free yourself. Amber: What do you think? Elijah: I think you will seek out Anthony MacMillan regardless of what I might think. Amber: You know me too well. Elijah: Amber. Amber: What? He is silent a moment, struggling to speak. A single tear trickles down his cheek. Amber: What is it? Elijah: I care about you. I want you to know that. Amber: Sentimentality? That's not like you. Elijah: Yes. Amber: I'll be back for your lunar eclipse party on the 31st. Don't fear. And Elijah? Elijah: Yes? Amber: Be seeing you. She waves, and the feed cuts out. Elijah remains fixated on the laptop a moment, his eyes unfocused, mind a million miles away. |
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So you must carry this light into the darkness You shall be a star unto the night You will find hope alive among the hopeless That is your purpose to this life... | |
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