Planet Ignis | Chapter 24

Listen to me! I know your programming prevents you from attacking humans, but these are no longer humans. They gave up their rights when they chose to become Hitori’s lab rats. They are mutants! Therefore, you can do whatever you want to them. Too bad they took Archimedes from me. It was the drone with the most considerable amount of computing power. I had to choose one or the other. I chose you because you’re the only one with the means necessary to procure all other cores.

Files salvaged from the Raptor’s Ghost Drive. Recorded by Schneider, the Raptor.

Hitori felt his mind stirring, slowly pulling him from the abyss of his long slumber. Waking from cryogenic sleep was always a grueling process—every time felt like the first. The haze of decades spent in icy stillness clung to him, fogging his thoughts as his subconscious struggled to recalibrate. He tried summoning his mental world, the projection where he had once walked freely during his sleeps. Nothing happened. All he could access now was the smaller version of it—his mental palace, where he kept only the most essential information.

That could only mean one thing: he was waking up.

Even before his eyes opened, his hearing returned. At first, the sounds around him were muffled and distant, as though heard from underwater. But they grew sharper as the ice crystal encasing him thinned. The first voice he recognized was Archimedes’, its motherly tone unmistakable. For centuries, that voice had been his only company. Now, another voice joined it—young, sharp, and urgent.

Hitori strained to make sense of the conversation. Words filtered in, fragmented and disjointed. The first complete sentence he caught was spoken by the young man: “Can’t you make him wake up faster?”

The voice carried the impatience of youth, tinged with concern. How refreshing to hear someone so young. A spark of curiosity flickered in Hitori’s sluggish mind. Something deeply human stirred within him—a longing to share experiences with the next generation. After all, wasn’t that humanity’s essence? To pass on knowledge, to guide, to hope.

As his hearing sharpened, he noticed the accent—an unusual blend that reminded him of Hans, the Phoenix’s Chief Mechanic. Hans, who was Dutch, had spoken impeccable English that sometimes sounded American and other times European. Strange that echoes of such accents had persisted across generations on a distant planet.

Archimedes responded to the young man’s question. Hitori’s ears strained to pick up the reply as the crystal hissed and cracked around him.

“Waking someone up from cryogenic sleep is a complex process. Furthermore, Dr. Hitori’s body has just undergone a complete mutation. It is best that he wakes up naturally.”

Relief washed over Hitori like a gentle tide. The mutation worked. They did it. Centuries of solitude and sacrifice hadn’t been in vain. He let the weight of that knowledge settle in his chest. If the mutation was successful, their odds of survival had just skyrocketed. A faint smile tugged at his frozen lips.

The ice continued to melt, dripping in steady, rhythmic beats. As his senses slowly reawakened, Hitori’s analytical mind began piecing together the scenario. The boy’s urgency spoke of a looming threat. Archimedes’ measured responses suggested the situation was delicate but under control—for now. Patterns emerged, and Hitori’s thoughts drifted to the steps that had to follow. Each one had to be executed perfectly. There was no margin for error.

Finally, Hitori’s eyes opened.

At first, the world was a blur. Three vague shapes hovered in his vision, distorted by the haze of his long slumber. One should be the young man he had heard earlier. The second, with its centaur-like figure and prominent antlers, was unmistakably Archimedes. The third was unfamiliar—a silent figure standing nearby.

Even before his vision cleared, tears welled in Hitori’s eyes. Centuries had passed since he’d been in the presence of another human. The isolation had been a torment he endured with unrelenting discipline and sheer willpower, but the psychological weight had left its scars. Humans weren’t meant to live alone. The prospect of companionship moved him to his core.

As the fog of sleep and emotion faded, his focus sharpened. The third figure came into view—a short, bearded man with intelligent eyes. Though his gaze was sharp and alive, his body betrayed the toll of years of abuse. Unhealthy purplish-blue veins webbed beneath his fragile, translucent skin. Yet the man stood tall, meeting Hitori’s gaze with a mix of awe and determination.

Next, Hitori turned his attention to Archimedes, pacing with mechanical precision as it checked his vitals. The familiar sound of the AI’s humming servos grounded him, a comforting remnant of his centuries-long solitude.

Finally, Hitori’s gaze fell upon the young man. He looked no older than twenty, his thin, wiry frame exuding the same exhaustion Hitori himself felt. His brownish skin and dark eyes carried a weight far beyond his years—a depth of pain and resilience that struck Hitori deeply. There was something elusive about the boy’s presence, as if he existed halfway between the tangible and the ethereal.

“You’ve made it,” Hitori rasped, his voice rough from disuse. A faint smile tugged at his lips.

The bearded man stepped forward, his tone brisk but respectful. “Greetings, Dr. Hitori. My name is Trother, and this is Eli. We don’t have much time.”

“I know. The Raptor,” Hitori said, his voice gaining strength with each word. It felt surreal to be speaking with his own kind again, but he pushed the emotions aside. Practicality demanded focus. “Let us establish priorities. How much time do we have?”

Eli stepped forward, his voice steady despite the urgency. “We threw it off the mountain an hour ago, as soon as it reached the summit. It should take a day to climb back here.”

Trother added grimly, “That’s the best-case scenario. If we didn’t throw it far enough, we might have less. Archimedes estimates thirteen hours in the worst-case scenario.”

“You threw it off the mountain?” Hitori asked, astonishment flickering in his expression. “That thing weighs several tons!”

“There wasn’t time to discuss alternatives,” Trother said. “We’ll explain later.”

Hitori nodded, filing the question away for later. There were more pressing matters. “First things first. We need to confirm whether Statera worked. Did you bring any food?”

“We’re almost out,” Eli admitted, holding out the last of their rations. “But this is all we have.”

Hitori’s gaze softened as he studied the boy. Eli’s thin frame and hollow cheeks spoke volumes about his own need for nourishment, yet he offered the food without hesitation. Hitori had theorized that the survivors must have developed a collective mindset to endure, but witnessing it firsthand was profoundly humbling.

Archimedes carefully took the rations and brought them to Hitori’s lips. The amount barely filled his mouth, but it would be enough. Closing his eyes, Hitori focused on the experiment that would determine their next steps.

He reached out with his awareness, searching for the potential energy around him. Even within the cave, there were gradients—proximity to Archimedes’ reactor, the machinery, and the lingering warmth of his guests. He visualized these energy differentials as threads, weaving them together with careful intent.

The lights of the lab flickered, responding to his mental command. The frost on the walls began to melt, water cascading down in shimmering rivulets. Hitori drew a deep breath, feeling the pulse of energy reverberate through the space. He channeled it into his body, converting it into electricity to ignite the ignium within. The process was slow at first, but with each successive pulse, the energy grew stronger, stabilizing into a steady rhythm.

Heat radiated outward as Hitori’s metabolism roared to life. The food in his mouth softened, then melted. He swallowed, the ignium within the rations sparking to life as his body absorbed it. With each gulp, he felt strength returning. When he finished, Hitori released the gathered cold back into the environment. Frost crept over the walls once more as the temperature equalized.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Hitori opened his eyes and moved his hand. His fingertips were no longer cryogenic blue but a healthy pink hue. For the first time in centuries, he stood.

“Fascinating,” Hitori murmured, flexing his fingers. “So, this is what polarized ignium tastes like.” He turned to face Trother and Eli, who had waited patiently as he completed his meal.

“Now,” Hitori said, his voice steady and commanding, “it’s time for us to talk. I believe we all have questions for each other. Let’s begin.”

Chapter 25