Saints in a Chip

The night started to cover the sand outside and the landscape into a sea of shadows. The three of them stood at the windows without saying a word or making a move, each just staring outside at Len's car.

Jude wasn’t sure why he was participating in this silent vigil; it felt like an unspoken rule, somehow, to follow the group's lead. And it was obvious that the lead belonged to Len.

As the minutes stretched on with nothing happening, the silence grew more awkward. Jude glanced at Bart and Tom, both of them appearing deep in contemplation. Standing there together, just waiting for something to show up in the dark, felt surreal.

After a while, Bart finally stepped back from the window, breaking the stillness. “Well. Let’s go to sleep. She’ll be fine,” he said.

Tom nodded, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Yeah, I guess.”

Jude hesitated, looking between them and back outside. “Are you sure? What if she wakes up?”

“She’s a tough one.” Bart shrugged.

“So why were we spying on her for a long minute while she sleeps?” Jude asked, not knowing how to feel with all this absurd ordeal.

“Because it’s Len,” Bart replied matter-of-factly as if that explained everything.

“I’ll go check on Laz. See you tomorrow, guys.” Tom walked away from them, an obvious sense of relief washing over him.

“You sleep in Block B. We don’t have any rooms left in this unit,” Bart instructed Jude, “You’ll find clothes and a blanket there; just make yourself at home.”

“Thanks,” Jude mumbled as he left the Central Unit in search of Block B.

The base wasn’t large, but it was sprawling enough that Jude felt disoriented, trying to figure out which building was which. As he walked, he took in the surroundings—walls painted in muted colours, the faint hum of machinery he couldn't pinpoint where it came from, and the flickering of the lamppost.

Just as he turned a corner, he suddenly heard it—footsteps echoing down the alley. He paused, straining to listen.

He glanced around, trying to identify the source of the noise. Was there anyone else in the base? Did Delila return? Or perhaps it was just his mind playing tricks on him?

Jude pressed his body against the wall, heart racing as he tried to remain unseen. He slowly edged toward the corner to get a better look at what was happening. As he peered around the corner, he saw him.

A very tall man, easily 2 meters or more, dressed in a tracksuit and wearing a cap, pulled low over his eyes. The figure moved with an unsettling familiarity as he approached Len's car, which still sat motionless in the dim light.

Jude’s instincts were about to kick in, and he felt a surge of adrenaline as the man opened the passenger door. He slid half of his body inside, and a loud creaking noise echoed through the night—the sound of the car’s brakes releasing.

The man started to push the car outside the settlement. Jude felt he needed to intervene and quickly glanced around, searching for something—anything—that could help him.

Jude prepared to lunge forward. At this point, his adrenaline was boiling. Yet, he suddenly felt something pulling him back. It was as if he were a rag doll being yanked away. He turned to see Bart.

“Stop! What are you doing?” Bart yelled, whispering and shoving Jude into the entrance of one of the blocks. “Here is Block B! Now go to sleep.”

Jude shook his head, frustration bubbling up inside him. “So you won’t do anything?” he asked, eyes narrowed with concern.

Bart turned to face him. “I will. I will sleep! And so do you.”

“Someone is taking her right now! They are stealing her car!” Jude protested.

“Kid, go to sleep! Nobody stole her car,” Bart insisted, his tone brokering no argument.

“But—”

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Bart pushed him gently but firmly toward the interior of Block B.

“Fine,” Jude finally relented, though all the events gnawed at him. Nothing seemed right. Nothing made sense.

Jude didn’t know if he woke up too early or too late. The sun streamed through the window, bathing the room in warm light and hinting at the heat that awaited outside. For a simulation, the sensory stimulation felt too real, and he found it both comforting and disorienting.

After a moment of gathering himself, he decided to head to the kitchen, hoping to find something to eat. As he walked through the unit, he noticed its emptiness.

When he reached the area, his heart sank. The shelves were bare; there was nothing in the pantry, nothing in the cupboards, and certainly nothing in the fridge.

“Great,” he muttered to himself, realizing that if he wanted to eat, he’d have to join the others. There was no point in trying to make something out of nothing here.

Jude had always been more comfortable working solo than in a group. He never quite felt like he fit in, and yesterday had left him with a lingering taste that he simply didn’t belong with the others. It was hard to believe that the Central unit hadn’t had a room for him. He wasn't surprised. He always had been an outcast among his peers. And he knew that it wouldn't be different here.

He leaned over the table, staring at the plain surface, tracing the grain with his finger as he tried to figure out what his next move would be.

Maybe he could consult Barbara and calculate his odds. She was reliable enough; perhaps she could help him navigate his thoughts.

Suddenly, the door swung open. “What are you doing?” Tom asked, standing there shirtless, glistening with sweat.

“Me?” Jude replied, taken aback by the unexpected sight.

“Yeah, you! Aren’t you hungry? I made fresh coffee! Get your ass out!”

Without much choice, Jude found himself following Tom, who almost sprinted toward the Central Pavilion. As he opened the door, Jude was met with the sight of Bart, Delila, and Lazaro, all dressed in matching green T-shirts and camouflage cargo pants.

“Hey,” Jude greeted, feeling uneasy, as if he were walking into some sort of trap or intervention.

“Look who finally decided to join us!” Bart exclaimed, a broad smile on his face. “We were starting to think you’d sleep the day away.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t know what the plan was,” Jude admitted, glancing around at the assembled group. “What’s going on?”

As Jude stepped into the kitchen area, his eyes were drawn to a large whiteboard mounted on the wall. Scrawled across it were ten lines:

Lie to save a life.

Can’t eat, can’t steal.

Only kill food.

Love as you love yourself.

Your words shape your deeds.

Honour the Earth that feeds, the air you breathe, the water you drink, for it is your children’s legacy when you leave.

Forgive others that wrong you, that you may be forgiven when you wrong them.

Learn to teach, and teach to learn.

Don’t envy. Strive instead to grow with them.

Weep not over spilt blood; cleanse the salty wound of the Earth with your tears instead.

Jude read each line carefully. He looked around, still feeling as though he was falling into some sort of trap. The ten commands written on the board gave off unsettling vibes reminiscent of a cult. His concern deepened as he processed what they meant for him and the others.

Just as the unease began to gnaw at him, Lazaro’s voice broke through his thoughts. “You are not very lucky. We all did what we call the tutorials in a group, and that for me was 80 years ago.”

Jude turned to face Lazaro, who was leaning against the wall. He looked exhausted. “What do you mean by tutorials?” Jude asked, sceptical.

“It’s what we used to call our initiation if you want to call it that,” Lazaro explained, “You'll need to level up to unlock the cells so you can move through the map.”

“How do I do that?” Jude replied, crossing his arms defensively.

Lazaro chuckled softly, a sound that felt both comforting and haunting. "So the tutorials are...”

The man stood there blankly; he was not able to finish his last sentence. He looked lost to the side, his expression distant.

“Take a chair, Laz. I told you it would be too much,” Tom said, standing up and pulling a chair closer for him to sit.

“I’m fine, just got dizzy,” Lazaro replied, rubbing his forehead as if battling a headache or something deeper. The strain in his voice was evident.

Tom placed a hand on Lazaro’s shoulder, his expression softening. “Babe, maybe this is too much… and—” he paused, searching for the right words, “you need to take it easy. We’re here for you, but you have to pace yourself.”

Lazaro offered a weak smile but didn’t argue.

“I can’t remember!” Lazaro lamented, his voice cracking under the weight of his frustration and fear--his fear was so obviously clear. Tears streamed down his cheeks, leaving trails as they dropped from his chin. “I can’t remember where it is…”

Tom quickly moved to help Lazaro stand, guiding him back to his room with a gentle but firm grip. “Hey, it’s okay,” Tom reassured him, trying to keep his tone calm. “We’ll figure this out together. Just breathe. We'll figure out this together, you and I. Always.”

As they walked away, Jude exchanged a worried glance with Bart, who seemed to sense his concern.

“Is he…” Jude started, but Bart interrupted.

“He’s going to be fine. It’s all... for the better,” Bart said as he prepared to stand up. “He’s going to be fine.”

As Tom led Lazaro to his room, Bart turned to Jude, inviting him to sit. “Well, let’s start. Point number one… the rules. If you want to live while stuck in the simulation, you better follow the fucking rules, kid.”

Out of nowhere, a siren pierced the air, a haunting and ominous wail that echoed through the settlement. The high-pitched tone escalated, filling the space with a deafening urgency. Jude watched Bart’s arm hair stand on end, the sound clearly affecting him.

“Shit! Lila! Tom!” the old man shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos as he sprang to his feet.

“What’s happening?” Jude asked, but he got no response.

Everyone was back in the kitchen, fully geared up for whatever was coming. Delila held the same heavy automatic firearm she had used when Jude first met her. Tom re-entered with a rifle slung over his shoulder.

The siren's sound abruptly cut off, replaced by a cold, mechanical voice that resonated with authority throughout the room.

“Attention. This is your emergency broadcast system. Mind-sculpt connecting to SiC in 3... 2... 1... L. Smith connexion in progress. Logs: no records found. Prepare for immediate engagement. Connection completed.”

A wave of confusion washed over Jude. “What does that mean? Who’s L. Smith?” he asked, looking around at the group, hoping for some clarity.

Bart furrowed his brow, his eyes narrowing. “Seems we have a new guest.”

They ran out of the unit as if they knew by heart what they needed to do. Jude didn’t ask questions; he simply followed their lead as they dashed toward the jeep.

They jumped over the vehicle, and Delila quickly climbed into the backseat, preparing her weapon. Jude took a moment to scan their surroundings, trying to find a role in this sudden chaos. He couldn't stop thinking about whether the UGS had sent someone to help with his mission.

“Get in! We need to move!” Tom shouted to Jude from the passenger seat.

“Delila, keep an eye on the perimeter!” Bart called over his shoulder as they pulled away from the Central Unit, the tyres kicking up dust behind them.

Jude adjusted his sunglasses over his nose, the lenses darkening the harsh sunlight as he scanned the horizon. The siren still echoed in the distance.

As Jude peeked out the window, his heart dropped. A black cloud started to swirl in the distance, gaining speed. “Bart! At your 3, they are back!” he shouted, pointing toward the encroaching threat.

“Don’t worry, kiddo,” Bart replied, his voice surprisingly calm, “just puppies saying hello.” But the words seemed to stress the old man’s foot on the pedal, pushing them faster down the sandy path.

Jude gripped the handle above the door, his pulse quickening as he took in the sight of the Eidolons—massive, black-scaled creatures galloping toward them, smoke billowing from their forms like shadows given life.

Their growls rumbled through the air, echoing the sirens that still wailed in the background.

“Those aren’t fucking puppies!” Jude exclaimed, panic creeping into his voice. “They’re coming for us!”

“Keep your head cool!” Bart shot back, glancing in the rearview mirror. “This is just a walk in the park.”

Delila raised her weapon, eyes sharp as she scanned the rear. “Just keep driving!”

The black cloud of Eidolons drew closer, their massive forms breaking through the haze as they gained ground. Jude could see them staring fixated on the jeep, the hunger within their eyes. “I think they’re getting ready to charge!”

“Stay sharp!” Tom called from the passenger seat. “Delila, be ready to fire if we need to!”

They drove fast, the jeep bouncing over uneven terrain, but the Eidolons kept pace, their powerful strides closing the gap. Jude could almost make out the details of their massive forms, the glint of their snouts breaking through the swirling black smoke they released.

“Delila, I think now is a good time,” Jude urged.

“Not yet,” she replied.

“Delila, they are getting close!” Jude insisted, feeling the tension rise in his chest as he caught a glimpse of the gleaming eyes of the nearest Eidolon. He was almost tempted to remove his sunglasses.

“Newbie, calm your titties! I got this!” she shot back, but Jude found her posture too relaxed as if the danger wasn’t chasing them down. He couldn’t comprehend the tactics they were employing; it felt reckless, almost inviting disaster.

He understood they were driving toward the starting point, where they found him. By the speed Bart was driving, they would reach it in just a few minutes, but would it be enough time?

Jude glanced back at the Eidolons, their monstrous forms surging forward like shadows of impending doom. He could see the muscles rippling beneath their scales, the way they coordinated their movements to close in on the jeep.

“Delila!” he urged again. “They’re practically on us!”

“Just hold on!” she replied, finally shifting in her seat, her grip on the automatic tightening. “I’ll take the shot when the time is right. Trust me! Mama got this!”

Jude took a deep breath, trying to trust her instincts. But with each passing second, the Eidolons grew closer, their growls resonating in his bones.

“Bart, how much longer?” he called, anxiety creeping into his tone.

“Just a little further, your Highness!” Bart replied as he manoeuvred the jeep around a cluster of rocks. “We’ll be there soon!”

Suddenly, the jeep made an acute turn, veering sharply as Bart began to drive in circles around the same rock where Jude had sought refuge upon his arrival. One turn, two turns—each rotation building the tension inside the vehicle.

“Princess, now!” Bart shouted.

Delila leaned on the opened window, steadying her gun as she aimed it toward the ground. She began shooting into the sand, sending plumes of dust and debris flying. The sharp cracks of gunfire echoed around them, mingling with the growls of the approaching Eidolons.

Another turn and Delila continued to fire, expending more ammo against the earth as Bart expertly manoeuvred the jeep. “Keep it up!” he encouraged as he tracked their movements.

“Why are we shooting at the sand?” Jude shouted over the noise.

“It's pretty!” Delila replied, mocking. “You don't like it?”

The Eidolons were hot on their heels, the black smoke swirling around them as they charged forward, their eyes glinting with predatory intent.

As they completed another rotation around the rock, Jude felt a surge of adrenaline. “Are we just going to keep going in circles?” he yelled, his heart pounding in his chest. He was ready to remove his sunglasses and get this done in his way.

“We’re almost there!” Bart replied, gripping the steering wheel with determination. “Just a little longer!”

Another turn and more ammo was spent against the sand until they finally reached the big gates of the warehouse.

As they skidded to a halt, the chaotic sounds of the chase faded into a haunting silence. Smoke and sand filled the air, obscuring their view of the surroundings. Jude held his breath, heart pounding, waiting for the inevitable confrontation with the Eidolons.

But as the smoke began to settle and the sand gently landed back to the ground, a surreal calm enveloped them. The hounds' growls and shadows vanished as if they had never been there at all.

Jude stepped cautiously out of the jeep, scanning the area for any signs of danger. “Did we lose them?” he asked, though deep down he knew it was unlikely.

“Looks like it,” Bart replied, but Jude noticed that hinting smirk on his lips, like mocking him.

As the dust cleared, something caught Jude's eye—a small figure standing in the middle of the warehouse. A little girl, no older than seven or eight, stood there with her hands raised, "My name is Lucy and... and... I like kitties... and pink... please, don't shoot, I’m too young to die."