Chapter 4 // The Final Number

Underneath the warehouse was a descending metal staircase. The first basement floor had an unmarked door covered in blood. The torture chambers. The staircase continued down another level. Mocha casually strolled through the doors. Several roombas were following trails of blood on the floor that led into different rooms. Surprisingly, there weren’t any humans; it looked like a hospital that was abandoned during apocalyptic times. There was one woman—a nurse typing away on a glass tablet at the receptionist desk. She looked up at Mocha and did not seem the least bit bothered by her presence, blood-soaked appearance or the drone floating beside her.

“Hello, how can I help you, ma’am?”

Mocha told the marks name and was informed of his location, along with the doctor assigned to him. Mocha thanked her and the receptionist resumed striking her nails against the glass tablet. Mocha opened the door and the torture ceased. Tatsuki had a diagonal gash across his chest. The blood seeped down his stomach and all over his boxers.

“Who the hell are you?!” the man with the apron yelled. He ran behind Tatsuki and held the bloody scalpel to Tatsuki’s throat. Mocha strutted three steps forward. Yoshi floated beside her shoulder.

“Let him go.”

“What?... Who the hell do you work for?! Guards! Guards!” the man’s voice broke. He had been so menacing 30 seconds ago but now whimpered pathetically, his glasses hanging on the tip of his nose, beads of sweat forming on his forehead…

“I find it oh so interesting… How the one’s who torture always beg the loudest. Quite hypocritical, don’t you think? WOMAN—” Mocha pointed to the blue haired nurse as she tried to sneak away. Mocha kept her eyes on the man as she spoke. “Move and you die. Understand?”

The nurse yelped and held her palms above her head.

“I’ll kill him! I swear I will!”

The torturer's hand was trembling as he panted, the scalpel lightly grazing Tatsuki’s throat as a bit of blood trickled down. Tatsuki held his breath. Mocha took three steps closer, her bare feet leaving red prints behind her. The sight almost made the nurse pass out.

“You kill him, I kill you. Let him go, I let you go. How does that sound, doctor?” Mocha held up air quotes with her fingers.

“AH, FFF, FFF, HUU, NNN,” the torturer heaved and screeched through his teeth. “Ok! Ok!” the man lifted his scalpel away from Tatsuki’s throat. “You win! Please just let me go—”

Yoshi shot his forehead at the twitch of Mocha’s index finger. The nurse screamed and fell to her knees in a feeble begging position. Yoshi tended to Tatsuki’s wounds with a spray. It wasn’t as bad as it looked; the doctor didn’t even get the chance to chop off any fingers or do some dental work…

Mocha crouched in front of the trembling nurse.

“How many people have you tortured?”

The nurse was leaking tears that soaked her surgical mask.

“Speak!”

“AH! None! None! It’s my first day! I didn’t sign up for this, please! You know Omega, I was selected! Please, I have two babies waiting for me at home! Oh, please please please!”

She continued to weep as Mocha observed her pitiful form.

Damn. It was always the kiddos that Mocha had a soft spot for. But then again, how many fathers did she just murder upstairs… She suppressed these thoughts, knowing they waited to haunt her in the future… How exhilarating cutting them was… Oh but those poor children… Eh…

“Hmm…” Mocha slipped her finger around the nurse’s ear and took off her surgical mask; the inside of it had a smear of red lipstick. Mocha looked across her pretty features and bright blue eyes that matched her hair. Mocha searched for signs of deception. The nurse looked to be in her late 20s, early 30s. A scar ran down the left side of her temple and cheek. Mocha ran her thumb over the woman’s scar. Both the nurse and Tatsuki mistook this kindred gesture as a sign of impending violence.

“It’s true!” Tatsuki yelled from his tied up position. “She didn’t touch me, just that guy! It’s not her fault!”

The nurse looked at the bound man in shock. Mocha did not turn her gaze away. Mocha brushed the nurse's blue hair from her eyes and tucked a strand behind her ear, gently sliding her fingertip down to where the neck connects to the ear. Mocha let out a deep sigh and softened her heart.

“How old are your babies?”

“Six and seven… boy and girl,” the nurse said, and then told their names.

“And what is your name?”

“Yuki. Yuki Kamado.”

“Yuki, do you know of Genesis?”

“Genesis? The terrorist organization?” Yuki replied. Mocha looked like she was about to laugh.

Yuki was just repeating what she had been told. In truth, she was like 99% of Omega citizens that swallowed the propaganda—all she cared about was ensuring her family was taken care of; eating up whatever “truth” the government proposed was part of the process.

“Genesis—we are the resistance to Omega, the Citadel, the elite, the aliens, the beasts. We have a settlement in the Gardenia Grove. A village. My home. It is not perfect, but we are free. It is a community with other children, our own military, food and water. You would be safe there. We can find you a real job… unless you… like torturing people?”

The hope that perished years ago had respawned and wrapped around Yuki’s heart. She felt like she could trust this blood-soaked woman. Maybe it was the prospect of raising her children outside of Omega? It was a foggy dream that she never allowed herself to ponder, like she spent her whole life running away from the idea of a paradise because—let’s be real, Omega is the only place humans exist! A life outside the walls? Bah! Absolute rubbish! Fantasy built upon the bedrock of terrorist doctrine! But deep down, in the secret place of the soul…

“Genesis is… Outside? The walls? They say nothing is out there…”

“Oh yes, the all-knowing they,” Mocha shook her head with disgust. “There is a whole world out there. Have you ever seen a tree? No? My village has one with pink leaves. I will show you. I offer you a chance. A future where your children won’t be forced into a brothel. You won’t have to chop off fingers. If you accept, I promise to give my heart to protect you.”

Yuki looked away from Mocha. Her mind flashed with images of the harsh reality of Omega, the drone-covered sky, the death of her husband, the tears she shed every night since… Her children’s smiling faces despite it all… A radiant white aura surrounding them, resembling their innocence…

“Yes…” she whispered. “I accept. You will take us there?”

Mocha explained the plan. She helped Yuki stand, put the surgical mask back over her ears and fixed her blue hair once more, making her look presentable.

“Thank you.” Yuki bowed, stepped around Mocha’s red footprints and departed.

Tatsuki had listened to every word Mocha spoke. He wanted to see this so-called Genesis with his own eyes, this village, the outside world… This “tree” apparatus. Is there really life out there? He had made transmissions that spoke speculatively about the outside, but never had any hardcore evidence of civilization; only death, war, creatures and secrecy... His spirit had been ignited with excitement for the future and an inquisitive desire to dig up the truth.

“You’re taking me to the Gardenia Grove too, right?” Tatsuki asked with a nervous grin. All that ignited spirit stuff had frozen over from Mocha’s frigid eyes.

“P-please, don’t kill me. I’m not one of them, I’m just—”

Mocha unsheathed her tanto and stepped behind. He tensed up, shut his eyes and said a prayer to God. Mocha cut his restraints and he sighed in relief. He stood and stretched his legs, his hip bones popping from being stuck for too long. The floor was cold against his feet.

“Whoo, I thought you were gonna kill me for a second there.” He squeezed one eye and grit his teeth as he rubbed the bruises left by the restraints. The cut on his chest had closed and ceased bleeding thanks to Yoshi’s spray.

“By any chance do you have a cigarette?” Tatsuki asked with a sarcastic smile. Mocha was unamused.

“Forgive me. Thank you for saving me, I’m Tatsuki—”

“Tatsuki Piyoto, creator of Securi-Team. Can you walk?”

“Oh yeah, I’m—”

“Follow me.” Mocha exited the room and Tatsuki rushed to keep up.

“Have a swell day!” The receptionist waved.

“You as well!” Tatsuki waved back. “Hey, by any chance, do you have any clothes I can borrow?”

“Yes, of course,” the receptionist turned around and pulled out a stack of blue scrubs and socks with grippers on the bottom.

“Thank you so much,” he hurriedly put on the clothes and followed behind the annoyed Mocha. They stepped out the doors and descended the staircase to the second basement level. There was a door that said above it: Quantum Data Storage. Yoshi hacked the door and flew to the biggest quantum computer that looked like an obese monolith with vertical glowing yellow lines. The bot downloaded everything it needed and began to transmit the extracted data back to Genesis.

The three of them double-timed to the warehouse floor and ascended the mezzanine to access the roof.

“Ma’am? Excuse me, miss?”

Mocha stopped halfway up the stairs and looked at him like a disease.

“Can I grab some weapons from these dead guys? Please?”

“Hurry up.” Mocha didn’t mention it, but she approved of the heads-up; if she saw him start to grab a weapon she would have assumed he was about to do something stupid. The first thing Tatsuki reached for were cigarettes inside a dead guard's pocket. Mocha rolled her eyes. Tatsuki found shoes that matched his size, then took a semi-automatic rifle with a full clip.

Mocha climbed a ladder leading to the rooftop. Tatsuki followed, glancing sideways to respectfully avoid looking up her kimono. Mocha opened the hatch and Yoshi flew out first. An alarm rang across Omega for the next 60 seconds. Drones projected screens with an image of Tatsuki and Mocha. They hovered above each district, blaring an audio message that labeled them as terrorists and that a mighty sum of 50,000 credits would be bestowed to whoever eliminated them. Citizens not participating in the manhunt were told to stay indoors and hide until further notice.

“Breaking news,” every hologram in Omega held up their palm like carrying a silver platter. They projected the two terrorists and described the situation.

“Turn that off and keep dancing,” some of them said, but others stroked their chins... People with no business in bounty hunting grabbed whatever crude weapons they had and stepped into the streets. 50,000 credits was not only a chance to move up in Omega; one could purchase a ticket to the Citadel. You would still need to be approved by the council which was impossible without knowing the right people.

Tatsuki began to laugh hopelessly at his predicament. My life is over. All those video ideas I had are turning to soot before my eyes. He sat against the rooftop ledge and sparked a cigarette while clutching his hair, scoffing at his circumstances.

“Tatsuki, tell me your combat experience.”

“Uhh, what experience?” Tatsuki exhaled smoke.

Mocha crouched in front of him. “Did you not serve in the Omega military?”

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“I did a few years, but combat? No… I was blessed with the job of burning feces, mopping floors and cleaning the chow hall. I barely went 1 mile beyond the walls. There’s nothing out there for us to ‘combat’ with. Sorry…”

Mocha looked like her brain was about to explode. She exhaled and looked toward the horizon. Her raven hair waved in the breeze and carried the stench of blood with it.

“Can I ask what this is about? Why you saved me?”

Mocha dug into him with those nebulous purple orbs. She pointed at his cigarette. Tatsuki was surprised and handed the lit cigarette to her. She took two long hits and held them both in her lungs, then handed the nearly finished stogie back. Mocha was not a smoker, but everyone in the trenches smoked regardless. She felt the nicotine headrush as she exhaled in Tatsuki’s direction. A disgusting flavor on her tongue. She spit on the ground.

“My commander thinks you’ll be a valuable asset to Genesis. I think she’s mistaken. What I think does not matter. I’m to extract you from Omega and bring you home.”

Tatsuki was conflicted, standing at a crossroads after being hit with a paralysis spell. On one hand, he wanted to see the Gardenia Grove, but on the other… He lived his whole life here in Omega, believing the wasteland carried only death. He was an ex-soldier, but not a real soldier. Above all, this opportunity filled every microbe in his body with an explosion of fear. Even if he were blacklisted, he could surely hide… Mocha leaned toward him with her eyebrow raised, catching his gaze as if insisting he speak. He noticed that the sirens had turned off, but he wasn’t sure how long ago.

“Me? Leave Omega? No… No no—I got a whole gig going for me here! How am I supposed to upload daily content to my 266.3k and growing subscribers if I’m doing… Genesis stuff?” Tatsuki always said everything like he was being sarcastic, but it was littered with honest expression.

Mocha looked at him with narrow eyes, disgust on her face… But she read something between his vague excuses… “Tatsuki, why do you make those… transmissions?”

Tatsuki’s eyes lit up like anyone who gets asked about their passion. “Uh, well, that’s a lot to unpack. I don’t know if you’ve seen my content?”

Mocha did not waste her time on such garbage, but knew most of her comrades did in their spare time. She never understood it. In fact, just hearing the sound of media infuriated her. She had grown so accustomed to loneliness that she sought isolation, where at least she had peace and quiet…

“I was born in Omega. Even as a kid I knew that something was wrong with this world. I walked the length of those walls hundreds—thousands of times. None of my friends cared about what was outside. They always got really quiet when I brought it up, like they were afraid of even questioning it. So stupid… Can’t even speak a hypothetical without looking over their shoulder. While my friends were interested in games and drugs, I started listening to ‘Radio Free Omega’. He was just some guy that would rant with a microphone every day at 1800. When he disappeared, I fell into despair…”

Tatsuki grabbed another cigarette. He offered one to Mocha but she declined. She listened to his story while looking away at the skyline.

“I discovered there were others like me that hated the way life was. Little conversations here and there, usually in hushed whispers at the bar… I began writing down observations of the world. I didn’t really know why I was doing it… But I knew I didn’t want to forget my thoughts. Isn’t it scary to think you might not remember your life? I don’t remember much of my childhood… But growing up, I saw how they extinguished critical thinking. How people just disappeared… How divided people were. I always thought, why are the elite up there and we’re down here? Even if the wasteland is dead, let us explore it! But that type of opinion will get you vaporized…

“I lucked out and got a job writing speeches and scripts for the Omega media, official title, propagandist. At first I thought I was moving up in the world, but that didn’t last long. It killed my soul to do that job. I still have to do it every single day… But I found peace, I really did. The urge to speak was like flames just burning me up from the inside. I had to let it out somehow, but the people I met in the streets weren’t as… passionate, as I was? So I started talking into a microphone on my days off. It didn’t take much work, but I built up a following. It’s the only source of happiness in my life… The only time I feel free is when I’m just a voice shouting into the airwaves.

“It’s kinda like what you said to Yuki about Genesis, how you guys are the resistance? I feel like I’m doing the same thing, in my own little way. The revolution all starts within the mind, right? So that’s why I do it. To break the mental chains and ignite the human spirit! Maybe then we can reach the final revolution!” Tatsuki held up his fist.

“I see... So, tell me: what have you accomplished so far? How many people have you ‘saved’?”

The obvious answer seemed a repetition of his subscriber count, views, donations, etc… Maybe those nice comments and messages he received? But Mocha’s question stabbed him in the gut. Sure, he leaked information to the public airwaves, but did his words really change anything? Maybe… Or not… How could he know? No response. Here she was, a true warrior fighting for freedom. How dare I compare my microphone rants to her excursions in the trenches, her slicing of throats, her literal saving of lives? He had no rebuttal, and Mocha knew it.

A picture of I-330 from one of Mocha’s favorite old-world novels popped in her mind. “You speak of a final revolution… Tell me, what is the final number?”

Tatsuki’s brain ricocheted at the absurd question. He looked like a failing student in calculus that was getting scolded by his professor.

“The number of numbers is infinite. Just like there is no final number, there can be no final revolution. Every day is a new revolution, as long as we resist… You have not seen outside these walls, not past the point your owners let you… Yet you act as if you have reached the pinnacle of knowledge…”

Mocha laughed, her voice full of mockery. She paused, as if debating whether Tatsuki deserved what she was about to show him…

Mocha straightened her index and middle finger in front of her chest. Her eyes emitted a purple pulse. She opened her hand and a purple flame appeared above her palm. It looked like a ghostly lotus flower. Tatsuki gasped as his eyes turned huge. He had never seen magic before. She clenched her fist and it disappeared.

Mocha let out that cruel laughter again, like she was entertained by his ignorance.

"You’re a puppy on a leash, a prisoner, like everyone here. You’re just a little louder than the rest of them. All-knowing in your knowledge, a full cup of lukewarm tea… Too afraid to learn the truth, so you cower in your pod like a bug, waiting to die a miserable…”

Mocha stopped ranting. She saw through Tatsuki’s attempt at stoicism. Her words crushed him. Somehow he prevented the tears from leaking out of his glittering eyes. She searched for the tiniest scrap of empathy within her and took a deep breath.

“I do not doubt your intentions. I am sure you have awakened some minds. But you are still a child—a student with much to learn. Like so—the revolution does not start in the mind. It begins here,” Mocha tapped on her own chest. “Before a child knows how to speak, they identify with freedom. It is… our birthright. An infant will see these walls and imagine climbing over. They will see a bird and imagine themselves with wings.

“Decades pass and they forget all about it. People like you have a purpose—to remind them of what they once lost. To empty their cup… and resume the beginner’s mind, where there are limitless possibilities. If you are drowning, how can you help someone in the same predicament? You must first save yourself. How can the blind lead the blind? Can you teach something that you have not learned? There comes a time when one must step up to the challenge and into the trenches…”

Mocha did not know why she was tutoring him… Her spirit had urged her to speak, but she felt like she had said more than enough. She did not like talking for extended periods of time; it made her feel vulnerable, like she was leaving tracks to her true self… She switched back to her guarded and distant demeanor.

“You are marked for death in Omega. You can hide and prolong it… That is your choice. You wasted enough of my time. I should go.”

It was not the mention of death that stirred him, or the fact his heart was trampled beneath her bare feet. It was the way she spoke these truths, those unrelenting lilac flowers gazing into him, the mysterious aura about her… Her sage wisdom pierced straight through his ego, like she saw past his outer shell. That magical flame… It was like she held the keys to the universe… Tatsuki wanted to follow this woman. Why? To where? For how long? No such thoughts were had. He was being pulled by the current, drowning, and saw her hand reaching beneath the waters…

“Wait… Wait! Fine. I’ll join you…”

“Why?”

“I… I want to find out about this final number. And see your village… You’re right about me. I am afraid. But I will follow you, if you will have me.”

Mocha eyed him as if debating whether he deserved to come along. It wasn’t up to her. She had a mission to accomplish, and if he was willing…

“Please, I know I am unworthy, but…” Tatsuki kneeled, his head to the floor. “Please, be my senpai!”

Mocha blushed. She stood up, crossed her arms and turned her head away. “Not gonna happen. But fine, you can come with me.”

Tatsuki smiled and hopped up and thanked her repeatedly. She kept her head turned away until the blush receded from her face.

“Man, what a day,” he flicked his cigarette off the building.

“Listen. Stay low and only move when I tell you. Got it?”

Tatsuki gave a thumbs up. “By the way, what is your name?”

“Mocha.”

She jumped off the roof.

“WHOA what the?!!!” Tatsuki ran to the edge and saw her holding onto Yoshi as her feet lightly touched the ground. The drone returned to him and offered a handlebar. He grabbed hold, squeezing tight as possible and timidly stepped on the ledge. He was too scared to jump so he lifted his knees to his chest and scooted his butt off. He yelled pitifully as he descended down with his eyes shut.

Mocha put a finger to her lips, shhh! but Tatsuki was blind. His eyes did not open till he felt the ground on his rear. He was still holding onto Yoshi as the bot tugged away from him. He released the drone and it flew beside Mocha’s shoulder. She eyed Tatsuki with disbelief, pity, annoyance… but also, a sliver of amusement. She let out a soft chuckle that sounded like shooting stars to Tatsuki. He wanted to hear it again and again… He had a knack for making people laugh. Let’s see, how can I make her—

“Try to keep up.” Mocha sprinted down an alleyway toward the south district. He noticed her powerful bloody legs, her hamstrings, quads and calves flexing with each step, her bare feet kicking up a cloud of dust... He had no chance.

Mocha turned and saw him lagging behind, swinging his gun wildly from side to side. She unwillingly slowed to a jog. Rescue missions were always the worst. She ducked down and Tatsuki took a spot next to her. A legion of police drones with holographic screens panned above. They waited for the bots to depart then continued.

The alleyway led to an intersection. To the left was the shopping district. It was covered in neon text, ads and holograms. To the right was a neighborhood of tightly packed pods that barely fit a single floor mattress. Yoshi beamed a map with colored lines marking various paths to their destination. Every route had the same circumstance of cutting to the left.

“This path,” Mocha dragged her finger across a yellow line. “That’s our best best.”

“Mm, mm.” Tatsuki nodded and pointed to a spot on the map. “It leads right to my house, we can swing by and pick up my gear.”

“No.”

“B-but I have my equipment—”

“They smashed everything.”

“I doubt that,” he said with a cheeky smile.

Mocha was curious. “We shall see.” It was not a priority but if the opportunity presented itself, she would allow him a minute at most. Not only for his tech, but she knew the importance of family mementos. She would try to provide him at least that much grace. He would never be allowed to return after this day.

“Terrorists! Help! HEEEEELP!”

A woman stood center of the alleyway and pointed while lifting her feet up like she was running in place.

“Shh! Please ma’am, we’re not going to hurt you!” Tatsuki pleaded.

Two young men in tattered clothes, dirty ankles and chanclas ran from around the corner. One of them had a kitchen knife, the other a rinky-dink pistol. A bullet whizzed past Tatsuki’s face. He fell and ran behind a vinyl fence; a terrible choice for cover. Yoshi followed beside to protect him.

Mocha moved too fast to keep sight of. She pushed the gunman’s elbow inwardly the wrong way and snapped it, the bone piercing out of his skin. She pushed him into his buddy, then knocked the knife guy out with a left hook. She walked up to the hysterical woman and hit her with a weak jab. Mocha held the back of her unconscious head and set her down.

An attack drone flew overhead. Its eye glowed red and aimed toward Tatsuki. Mocha ran to where Yoshi and Tatsuki were.

The enemy drone shot an explosive blast that destroyed the surrounding vinyl fence and the concrete wall leading into the shopping district. Rubble and smoke jumped in the air. Yoshi protected them with a biotic barrier reserved for desperate situations due to its limited numbers of use. Before the dust settled, Mocha instructed Tatsuki to run behind her. Her voice echoed in his mind as his ears rang from the noise of the blast. He ran, desperately trying to keep up.

Another drone in the air emptied bullets behind their trail, aiming for the much slower Tatsuki. Yoshi stood between the gunfire, using a small barrier to protect the mark. Mocha slashed through the vinyl doors of a ramen shop.

“Irasshaimase!” A holographic female waitress bowed. Mocha dove behind the counter and Tatsuki clumsily crawled over next to her. The smell of broth made both of their stomachs growl, but it was nothing compared to the food back home. Tatsuki stood up to get a bowl from the big pot but Mocha pulled him back down. A horizontal line of bullets spread across to where Tatsuki would have been standing. The low-tier ramen leaked out of the bullet holes and onto the ground.

Mocha knew they had to get into a more solid building, at least one where she had more space to maneuver. No matter how skilled she was, it was never good to get too crowded. One explosive round might ruin their day…

“The mall is across the way!” Tatsuki pointed. Yoshi showed the map and highlighted the borders of the mall. Mocha yanked the rifle from Tatsuki’s trembling grip and checked the clip.

“Tatsuki, follow Yoshi and stay low. I’ll take care of the drones. Go!!!”

Tatsuki was not prepared but followed desperately behind the drone, trying to shut off his monkey mind. He tripped and stumbled a few times. It was a good thing he did; he accidentally dodged gunfire. My luck stat must be maxed… That’s a good one, gotta remember to write that one down—AHH! He curled into a fetal position and covered his head. Bullets made a circle around him.

Mocha aimed down the iron sights and took out the two drones. They spun around in the air and crashed to the ground with miniature explosions. Mocha pulled Tatsuki from under his arm and pushed him forward. Tatsuki fell down and accidentally dodged a laser from a pulse pistol held by a guy in a pink suit.

Mocha dove chest-first beside the cowering Tatsuki and ruined the man’s pink suit with bullet holes.

“Owww,” Tatsuki covered his ringing eardrums.

Mocha lifted him and pushed again. As he ran he checked if his ears were bleeding, but saw only dirt on his palms. They finally made it to the mall entrance. It was locked. Tatsuki tried to smash it with his shoulder but bounced off the glass and tumbled backward. Yoshi did the same gesture and crashed through it.

They ran inside, glass crunching beneath their steps. Tatsuki looked down at Mocha’s bare feet atop the glass and cringed. How are those pretty things taking so much abuse? She walked differently, almost like a ninja… A featherlike step unlike a regular person.

The mall was lit by pink, blue, green and red hues, alternating in a straight line down the hall. They heard a flurry of ads on top of ads. most in luscious female AI voices speaking hypnotically, some spoken by overexaggerated male announcers with all words from the diaphragm. The mall was empty of human form except for the projections that stood in front of the stores and kiosks. A few roombas continued their custodial duties. Tiny drones cleaned the walls. The trio continued running.