System Hunt: Regalia

Blinding white light poured from three blaring sources overhead, so bright they obscured the edges of the room, casting the whole scene in a harsh, otherworldly glow. Sam’s eyes burned as he tried to adjust, a gurney’s warm metal frame pressing against his back, the straps around his arms and legs restricting any movement. The light was oppressive, suffocating, making him feel like he was trapped in some sterile hellscape.

Something had been done to him. Besides the obvious lack mobility Sam was naked save a tiny towel across his crotch. Beyond that he felt something in his head, a fog not dissimilar to the intense drunkenness of a full night at a bar.

His heart thundered in his chest, each beat reverberating through his entire body. Adrenaline surged through his veins, his mind screaming at him to flee, but his body remained pinned by the fastened leather straps. His hands twitched uselessly at his sides, muscles pulsing to break free. Each time he tried to look around, the glaring light seared his vision, leaving him in a dizzying haze of helplessness.

The true horror was not the physical discomfort but the realization of being at the mercy of another human. While nature’s brutality was something he could understand, the cruelty of a fellow human was a deeper, more personal fear. The thought of being murdered by someone with intent and reason was chilling.

Being mauled by a beast was fine, Sam couldn’t expect the beast to know or care about his life, loves or losses and that he’d be eternally grateful to have the chance to experience it all again. There was no reasoning with nature, it ate to live to eat.

But man? Man had a reason for everything and it most certainly wasn’t any beast that strapped Sam onto a gurney. Someone had done this for a reason and if he can’t give them a reason not to, a reason to stop and let him free he’d be murdered with all the malice behind a fellow human’s eyes.

Sam never questioned why being murdered was his worst way to go out but now that he was here, strapped to a gurney, under blinding lights and naked under a flimsy towel.

Unlike a beast, a man can be convinced to spare a life, Sam’s life. But failing to do that and only violence will save him. But Sam wasn’t a violent person, he lived along with a cat and worked as a courier because that’s the only job with limited human contact he could get.

Fuck it, I’ll be violent as heck on whoever shows their face!

A crackled sound from a speaker broke through his panicked thoughts. Three loud taps on what has to be the microphone and then a bout of heavy breathing streamed through the speaker. Sam froze, his struggles against his binds ceasing instantly as the person on the other side continued to breath and then chuckled, amused by something.

“Hello.”

In the silence after Sam’s beating heart filled his ears with dreadful anticipation. The voice held no warmth or friendliness, only a chilling undertone.

Sam’s throat tightened, and he managed to croak out a reply, “Hello…are you going to kill me?”

Fuck! I shouldn’t have said that, now they’ll definitely want to kill me!

The response was a sharp, cruel laugh. “That is…certainly an option.”

I fucking knew it. “Who are you! I’ve done nothing wrong so…let me go! I haven’t hurt anyone or broken any laws!”

“That’s not true.” Sam’s heart skipped a beat. “You’ve broken plenty laws…courier.”

Sam knew what the voice meant, “If you mean that jaguar…I was scared! But I brought it back down to the quarantined area, I did the right thing, I risked my life!” The more he defended himself the more Sam began to feel incensed and justified, more so than his disembodied captor, “Why am I being punished? What is this!”

The voice was silent but the speakers still transmitted the static sound of silence over, Sam could hear their presence on the other side, waiting, watching, thinking. This was it! Sam had to convince this…whoever this was to spare him, that he was a good, civil serving citizen of his country worth keeping alive.

The voice spoke before he could, “What does the word ‘Regalia’ mean to you?”

His stomach became a void for his heart to reside at that question. Sam was innocent, he knew that! He didn’t ask for any of this Regalia shenanigans it just came to him.

Maybe I should have spoken to the authorities after all but…what if I just ended up here earlier? Then the question would be…were the weeks he lived up till now worth it? Did he live them well? Sam felt he did, he was being paid extra so he ate and slept relatively well. He made sure to treat Nyx to her vices and take out time for some of his own. Could he have lived better?

Another shrill cackle came from the speaker, “Don’t think too hard about it, courier, answer the question with exactly what’s in your mind right now and maybe…”

Maybe? No, there’s no promise there just another lure…but what’s the point? They must already know, lying might infuriate them to do worse and so might the truth.

Regalia... The word had turned his life upside down, and now it seemed to be the key to his fate, “Regalia…that word makes me think of the Towers of Regalia, the ones everyone calls the Doom Towers, that’s their true name.”

The voice eagerly spoke, “And does it have anything to do with how you accomplished your…civil service?”

Sam snorted, depression turning him arrogant in the face of death, “If you’re referring to how I dealt with a fireball-launching jaguar, then yes, Regalia has something to do with it.”

From his changed perspective Sam realized this person was avidly interested in the Regalia, which meant what was in his head was valuable to an extent, perhaps even what he could do with glass. He could leverage that for his freedom and—

Two lights shut off entirely while one dimmed down to a sensible level. Sam could suddenly see the room he was locked in. There was a large glass window split in the wall in front of him, four speakers in each corner of the room and a massive metal door that was being unbolted on the other side.

The door creaked open, shoved aside by a tall, body armoured woman. She was a hulking figure, clad head to toe in dark tactical armour that gleamed with a faint blue tint under the lights.

A massive, unidentifiable machine gun hung from her shoulder, its barrel thick and menacing, with tubes of glowing blue liquid running along its side. Each step she took echoed with the sound of her blood-caked boots, heavy and deliberate, as though every movement was meant to intimidate.

Close up, Sam saw she was scarred. Her left cheek bore three deep, jagged cuts, like claw marks. Her eyes, steely brown and cold, betrayed torturous battles. She wordlessly unfastened his binds and stepped back.

“Doom Suppression Force…” Sam mouthed.

“That is correct.” The speakers voice came from the door now and a man came through.

If the situation hadn’t been so dire, Sam might have laughed at the sight of the man stepping through the door. Barely four feet tall, he had the build of a barrel, with a face like a bulldog that had been squeezed into a penguin suit. But something about the glint in his sharp, calculating eyes stopped any trace of humour from escaping Sam’s throat. There was an intelligence there—cold, ruthless— that made it clear this man was no joke.

“Go ahead, courier, you can laugh but it’ll be the only time you’ll be permitted to do so. Afterwards your draft to the DSF will be completely underway, welcome, you will be a great help.”

“Draft? W-what do you mean? I’m not meant to…what?”

The DSF officer finally spoke, “There is much you don’t know yet but what you should know now is that we’ve been looking for you or at least someone like you. A Regalia Wielder willing to do the right thing, willing to fight for humanity.”

Not believing his ears Sam let out a nervous, loud laugh, “Bwahaaha! That’s not me! I only turned around because my cat lived close by and I couldn’t stomach the thought of…wait…you’re serious. Wait, you know about Regalia Wielders?”

The dwarf, penguin suited man scoffed, “Keep up, recruit, you’re going to be fast tracked to the front lines soon.”

Sam gulped, “And who are you?”

He smiled, “Call me General Sir.”