“He would laugh if he saw me now,” I whispered. “Standing in the dark, crying in my driveway like?—”
The crunch of footsteps on gravel was my only warning.
Two shadows detached from the darkness beside my garage. Before I could scream, a gloved hand clamped over my mouth. Another pair of hands gripped my arms, wrenching them behind my back.
“Target secured,” a deep voice murmured, oddly flat through a tactical helmet.
I thrashed violently, my keys and purse dropping to the concrete. My heel connected with someone’s shin, but it felt like kicking steel.
“She’s resisting,” the second figure stated, as if reporting the weather. Something was eerily familiar about them—something I had heard during the war.
“Let me go!” I managed to yell when the hand briefly slipped from my mouth. I twisted my body, using the self-defense moves I had learned during combat training. “Help! Someone help!”
The streetlight caught on their tactical gear—matte black with subtle blue piping. Their behavior seemed unusual, yet oddly recognizable at the same time, their movements precise and coordinated. My stomach dropped as recognition flashed. That distinctive armor design. CyberEvolution’s handiwork, yet somehow different.
“Why?” I gasped as they dragged me toward a van I hadn’t noticed before. “I’m just an obstetrician!”
One of them pressed something cold against my neck. “Administering sedative.”
“No!” I bucked wildly, years of combat medical training screaming warnings in my head. “I’m nobody! I’ve been out for two years!”
The needle pricked my skin. Warmth spread through my veins.
As they loaded me into the van, my thoughts fragmented. Why would CE want me? I’m nobody special. Just a retired combat medic turned obstetrician.
The sedative soon hit my system like a freight train. My limbs went from thrashing to useless in seconds. Through half-lidded eyes, I watched the van’s interior ceiling swim above me, dimly lit by blue-tinged display panels. My mind floated, untethered from reality, as I struggled to process what was happening.
“Vitals stabilizing,” one of them reported, his voice unnervingly calm. “Estimated full sedation in forty seconds.”
I tried to spit out a retort, but my tongue felt swollen and uncooperative. The vehicle lurched forward, sending me sliding across the metal flooring. One of my captors adjusted my position with efficient movements.
“W-why...” I managed to slur.
Neither answered. Despite my disoriented state, I registered their tactical gear—black composite armor with integrated technology I had never seen before. Blue light pulsed along thin channels in the material. Combat medics noticed everything, and this wasn’t standard military issued. This was beyond anything I had encountered, even on the battlefield.
My gaze drifted to a weapons rack secured to the van’s wall. The rifles mounted there were sleek, almost organic in design. No visible magazines, just strange glowing power cells. One looked like it had been pulled straight from a sci-fi film—all curved lines and pulsing energy signatures. Definitely not government issued. Definitely not what I remembered from my time with the military.
“Parameters acceptable. Initiating transport protocol,” the driver announced from the front.
Something about their cadence and their economy of movement... it triggered memories. The field hospital. The cyborg soldiers we treated for six months—CE’s “enhanced warriors” with their unnervingly precise speech patterns and identical mannerisms.
But that was impossible. CE’s cyborg program had been dismantled after the war. All their cyborgs were supposedly deactivated.
My consciousness flickered like a faulty light. In one moment of clarity, I noticed the subtle insignia on one soldier’s shoulder plate—not CE’s familiar logo, but something similar. A mutation of it. Evolution beyond evolution.
“Not...” I fought against the sedative. “Not possible... you were...”
“Silence is recommended,” one stated, placing a hand against my shoulder. The touch was firm but not painful. Precise yet oddly tender.
These beings had found me. But why? I was nobody important—just a doctor who delivered babies now. My war service had been unremarkable except for...
Benjamin’s face suddenly flashed in my mind. Our last moments together where Benjamin refused to leave without trying to save the cyborg soldiers in the field hospital as shells fell around us.
“Benjamin knew something,” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure why. The drugs were making connections my conscious mind couldn’t follow.
The two figures exchanged looks. My heart raced despite the sedative.
What had Benjamin discovered? What had I missed?
