The Utopia Project: Dawn of the Phantoms

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===[Chapter 33: Militarized Police State]===

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Yet another excruciating shift at the factory was finally over. At the closing bell, the machines stopped and the assembly line went cold. Eli's eyes were burning from the bright fluorescent lights that nauseatingly seemed to shine right in his eyes no matter what position he held his head in. It wasn't like there was a place to hide from it either. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd seen a shadow in the factory unless it was directly underneath the massive machines they operated. The prisoners slowly milled away from their positions as the security units in their clunky all-black tactical gear unlocked the door. Eli wanted to feel relief that today was over, but of course, that only meant he was a day closer to being sent to Helena.

"At least tomorrow's the last day of factory work for us," Badger sighed as she stepped away from her position next to a robotic arm. She pulled back the white strands of her hair away from her face, clumsily pinning them behind her ear.

"Yeah, and then, the real shit starts," Dutch added.

"Never a dull moment, I guess," She said in return, "At least they're letting us sleep. I heard stories that they purposely keep some phantoms awake around the clock, sleep deprivation or something along those lines."

Dutch shivered, "Don't remind me that they can do that. I cherish my six-ish hours of sleep. That's the only good thing I have."

"You said it."

Eli joined the crowd of other prisoners not saying a word. He was far too exhausted to really say anything of note, and anything he could say would probably wind up sounding like quiet gibberish anyway. As he waited for the security units to line them up, his tired eyes scanned across the cohort of prisoners and noticed something odd. There were fewer people on the factory floor than normal. Not enough to be a significant or even a really noticeable difference at all. But there were a couple of recognizable faces among the prisoners that just weren't there. For instance, there was a man with a distinct black beard and bald head who worked at the station next to Misfit's, and he was absent despite the rest of his squad being there. A red-headed girl from the station at the front of the floor was also gone among others.

Eli rubbed his eyes, figuring that the two were likely being detained for something. Though it was strange. From the little Eli knew of the other prisoners, he knew that those two, in particular, weren't troublemakers, or at least they weren't the type to gain Overwatch's wrath enough to be sent to solitary. He was most definitely thinking too hard about it, letting his sleep-addled mind wander. The line of prisoners went on, taken outside of the facility, and marched through to their barracks under the watchful eye of spotlights cutting through the evening dusk.

The moment Eli's head hit the rough mattress, he was asleep...

Only to be awoken - god knows how long into the night - by an incredibly loud bang!

It made Eli jump up from his bed. It wasn't quite as loud as a gunshot, but it certainly was louder than the thunder rumbling in the distance which promised rain in the future. No, it was far too close. Another bang. Movement within his barrack confirmed that the rest of the squad had been awoken too. As Eli listened closer, he realized that it was someone banging on the steel doors. Not theirs though. It was the door of the barrack next to theirs.

Bewildered, through the darkness, Eli slowly arose to look through the iron bars that constituted a window next to his bed. It afforded him a slight view of the barrack next door and whatever was going on in front of fit. He peered through the night, only to see shadowy figures in front of the barrack. His eyes adjusted, and the blurry shapes formed hard angles, the recognizable shape of tactical gear seemed sharp among the searchlights that silhouetted them. A squad of security units dressed in all black were gathered in front of the barrack, and one was in the process of loudly banging on the steel door with the butt end of their baton. Flashlights were turned on shooting beams of bright white light that cut through the darkness, their wild flailing making Eli retreat to avoid being detected peeping through his window.

"Eli! What's going on?" Badger's voice whispered through the darkness.

"It's a raid. The guys next door," Eli whispered.

"They aren't coming here are they?"

Eli shook his head cluelessly, refusing to say another word as he kept his eye on the chaos.

With a swift maneuver, the security units were inside of the barrack, throwing open the locks and storming inside with their weapons raised. From inside, the phantoms started to scream. A blood-curdling scream came from one of them as a gun was fired from inside. Involuntarily Eli ducked down and so too had the rest of Misfit who had run over to the windows facing the barrack.

"Oh shit..." Dutch whispered as he crouched low, keeping an eye on the chaos outside, "What the fuck are they doing?"

Though it was only a single gunshot, it was loud enough that the lasting sound of commotion - yelling and protest - sounded almost quiet in comparison. Hanging in the air like an afterimage. Slowly raising his head back up from cover, he spotted the security units' flashlights shining through the dark windows of the barrack. They grabbed ahold of someone judging by the sound of a male prisoner telling them to 'get the fuck off' and 'let go'. But of course, the guards would not listen.

It wasn't just that barrack either. Another squad of security units breached through into another barrack somewhere off to Misfit's right side, well out of view, but plenty loud enough for them to hear. In fact, there were several raids going on at once. The relative normality of the day was completely disrupted by these cloaked brutes intruding in the dead of night.

Eli's heart dropped to his stomach when heard a pair of boots walk around Misfit's own barrack, right up to their front door.

"Shit... shit..." Rafael crouched low behind one of the bunks in an attempt to hide. Their attention was dragged from the barrack across from them - right to their door. Eli could see the shadows of boots moving underneath the gap in the iron door. Eli held his breath, his heart drumming somewhere in his throat. Collectively they all froze, refusing to take their eyes off the door and the shadows behind it.

If the security units burst through their door right now, there would be nothing Misfit could do to stop them. There was no other way out of the barrack than through that door. The iron bars in the windows were far too strong, and those windows were the only possible route of escape. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. The air was still within the squad's barrack as the security units gathered...

And then moved on.

A collective exhale followed once the last security unit's boots moved on past their door, leaving Misfit completely bewildered as to what had just happened. Not all of the barracks had been targeted in the raid, obviously given that Misfit was still here standing and not being forced to kneel at gunpoint by armed thugs. But the vital point was that a majority of the barracks had not been targeted. The one immediately to their left and a couple of barracks down to their right had been targeted, and judging by the sound of chaos, so had a few others. But most remained untouched. This wasn't just some general shakedown or tunnel search meant to remind them all that Overwatch could have them killed at any moment - though it accomplished that with flying colors.

Rather, this was targeted. Much more refined, though the methods were all still the same. It was the dead of night, and the security units were doing their best to make as much noise as possible. Eli reasoned that it must've been on purpose then. The timing was too out of left field for it to be something to be unconcerned about. Even if Misfit had been spared - for now - something dark was brewing.

"I guess we're good?" Omar asked.

Eli shook his head "If Overwatch wanted to take rebellious phantoms, they could've done so at any other time. Quietly. This isn't normal..."

Rafael nodded his head in agreement, "That's right. Dead of night when everyone's asleep, they start banging on people's doors to shine flashlights in their faces and gun them down. If they wanted to be discreet, they could've taken the troublemakers out one by one."

"What are you getting at?" Asked Matteo, narrowing his eyes.

"It means Overwatch wants us to see what's happening. I don't know what the targets did for Overwatch to strike them like this. But whatever the reason, Overwatch wanted to send a message. The only question is... why?"

"I've got a baaaaad feeling we're gonna find out tomorrow," Dutch muttered, watching as a pair of guards dragged a squad of pleading phantoms away. They were powerless to stop them. Too tired after being awoken from their slumber to form much of a coherent plan to resist, but just sober enough to watch it all unfold. Eli glanced at Dutch, biting his tongue to remain quiet. He was right. If Overwatch revealed the reason why this happened, the day before the big operation of all things, nothing good was going to come from it.

He knew that for certain.

Wet weather.

The drumbeat taps of raindrops and the familiar smell of seawater in the air were only a forecast of what was brewing today. As Misfit rose to the front of their barracks for morning roll call, the raindrops provided them with a sort of rhythm to keep pace. Eli dressed with a sort of stiffness filling his limbs, weighing them down. One piece after another, slowly. Up until he was carrying the prisoner's jacket in his hands, lingering on the blue delta and the orange circle. Getting lost in it while the raindrops filled his mind with static. It was only there as just another reminder of what he was. And that status would never change, not for the foreseeable future anyway.

He sighed and put the jacket over his body, just in time for the familiar chirp of a siren wailing outside and the crunch of boots outside, "ROLL CALL!"

The proceedings went on as usual, but Eli knew that something ominous was brewing. And it wasn't the storm that was literally pouring down on them as they stood. He could practically feel the bags hanging from his eyes thanks to the raid. And Overwatch was being oddly silent. Carrying on as normal as if they hadn't just completely turned their worlds upside down in one night. With how silent everyone around him was, they must've felt it too. The crowd of prisoners looked ghastly in the shadows underneath the massive storm clouds that blocked out any trace of sunlight. And the already dark uniforms of the security units took on a shade of black.

Omar let out a stifled though rather foul cough, one which drew Eli's attention, "Are you alright?" Eli whispered so the security units couldn't hear. The kid nodded, gesturing towards the giant smokestack which continued to pump out clouds of fumes despite almost all of the prisoners standing in front of their barracks. There must've been some kind of schedule where certain rows of the barracks were sent in to keep the facility operating while the others slept. An odd thought for there was never anybody inside of the factory whenever Misfit's cohort entered.

When all the squads had reported in where they should be, the head of the security units took center stage with his microphone. On his flanks, he was surrounded by more security units dressed in their black uniforms. Amongst them, he was able to find out what had been bugging him so much. Though the guards mostly wore balaclavas and masks to obscure their identities from the prisoners, there were those who lacked such gear. In fact, they seemed to lack a lot of things. Worst equipment, ill-fitting uniforms, and in some cases, no equipment at all. While the guards almost always wore their polymer riot-police style helmets and fitting body armor, these new security units lacked them. And to make matters stranger, if Eli focused hard enough, he could identify familiar faces among the swarm of black-clothed guardsmen and women. Nobody intimately familiar, he hardly knew the names of anyone outside of Misfit. But he knew that there were phantoms among the ranks of the security units.

"New hires?" Badger was the first to say it, catching on to the same oddity that was messing with Eli.

Dutch shook his head, narrowing his eyes, "Not even just that. They're 'fugees. Penal-Unit."

"Since when did they start letting prisoners join up with the regulars?" Badger's twisted expression gave off a hint of both confusion and nervousness. If Phantoms were allowed in to join the regulars, when did their duties as prisoners end and as regulars begin? Or were they relocated off into the dormitories that the regulars inhabited? Were they even still prisoners anymore? So many questions, and to think it was still so early in the morning.

"That must be what Kovic means when he speaks of 'collaboration'," Rafael attempted to imitate the brassy tone Kovic spoke with in his propaganda when he said the word, "Maybe it has something to do with the raid from last night?"

"I don't think they're desperate enough to start abducting prisoners to make them guards. That's a terrible idea, even by their standards," Badger added.

"Captain Juma's a phantom and she's a regular," Eli said.

"Yeah, but she isn't penal-unit. She's a 'fugee but she's free, sort of at least" Dutch said.

"Are you really free if you're under Kovic's command?"

Dutch shrugged, "That's her problem..."

One by one the normal security units collected the numbers of each squad, running through their checklist as if nothing strange was currently happening. Though when all was accounted for, the head guard - a rather ghoulish-looking man with a white goatee - raised his loudspeaker as if it were a weapon itself. The whoop of its siren brought everyone's attention to him, "All Phantoms! You'll be following the schedules uploaded to your monitors for the day as per usual. However, at exactly nine o'clock this morning, you'll report to The Nexus' center. There will be an event and your attendance is mandatory. After the event concludes, you will return to the normal scheduling on your monitors. That will be all."

Confused murmurs were exchanged between some of the prisoners, but ultimately, nothing further was explained. Eli looked down at his monitor. Raindrops had already formed on the waterproof device, obscuring his view of the glowing display. From what he could tell in his brief glance, the schedule had remained unchanged. He frowned as Dutch's warning from last night resurfaced again in his mind.

They were marched into the canteen, essentially a giant hangar seated close to the center of the prisoner's side of The Nexus. The hastily built construction resembled something out of a slum shelter, corrugated metal formed the walls and roof, which unnervingly shook whenever a major gust of wind blew against the structure. The building had not been waterproofed, and even the floor seemed to be made of little more than wooden planks bolted into the ground - which already felt close to rotting after less than a month in use. On particularly hot days, the building was unbearably damp and foul-smelling. But, for days like today, it beat eating out in the rain - ignoring the threat of the building collapsing on top of them at least.

Lunch for today was a delicacy. Stale bread, a single apple, and an entire patty of thin, cold, sausage. Nearly as large as the palm of Eli's hand! This must've been Overwatch's idea of spoiling them, Eli rolled his eyes as he took his tray from the automatic food dispenser and sat at his assigned table. Somewhere in his mind the label 'GELATIN BASED NUTRIENT BAR: PORK AND EGGS FLAVOR' haunted him, sending a shiver down his spine. Overwatch had a lot of cruel torture weapons at their disposal. That thing might just take the cake for being the worst.

As he plopped himself down, he overheard another pair of phantoms talking among each other at the table just behind his back. It was something about the security units. Eli was gonna tune them out when one of them said something interesting.

"I mean, shit I'm sure as hell not into the whole 'new world utopia' bullshit but hey... I figure if you can't beat them, join 'em." A man said to another phantom sitting across from him "I mean, Kovic isn't letting us go back to Earth either way, right?"

"He says we will when the job's done," The other phantom replied, her voice low and contemplative.

"They always say things like that, it's never true. If they're offering slots in the security units for phantoms to join up, why the hell not? You'd get better food, a bed to sleep on... maybe some respect too. Look at Captain Juma. She's a Phantom and she's not even Security Unit. She somehow became an officer. Regulars can't be all bad if they're letting Phantoms in."

"I guess so... I don't know it just doesn't feel right is all..."

"Maybe. But if you keep trying to be right all the time you wind up a prisoner... maybe it's about time we really look after our survival..."

Eli was midway through raising his plastic fork up to bite down on the bread when he stopped. So it wasn't just Misfit this morning that had realized that the guards were fresh faces. While it certainly wasn't immediate confirmation, it certainly felt like it. But what was worse was that the others were actually considering it as valid. Eli had expected the other prisoners to be a lot more disturbed or frightened by the news, but if the conversation he'd just overhead was anything to go off of, some were taking it as a way out. Precisely what Overwatch would've wanted by letting them in at all.

His mind struggled to connect the dots between that and the raid last night though. They definitely weren't kidnapping people in the middle of the night to make them security units. Especially not if they were willing to shoot their would-be cops. Everything about the program looked voluntary enough if coerced. What then was the real connection?

He pondered the question through his meal when the whistle was blown and the prisoners stood up. Meal time was over. And now the big surprise. The regulars opened the doors for them to leave, marching them back outside into the rain and through the Nexus - right up to what was roughly the center of the prisoner's section. Right behind the central administration.

It was almost entirely refurbished. A large stage was set up for a speaker to ascend flanked by a massive blue and white flag of the Global Strategic Coalition itself. The compass that sat in the middle of it was like an all-seeing eye that oversaw the prisoners as they were brought to stand before it. It seemed like every security unit in the Nexus had been called to stand at attention on either side of the stage. The stage itself was covered by a large tent for the rain which sheltered the electronics placed on the far end. Wires led to loudspeakers, connecting them to a podium at the front which bore the emblem of the chief himself.

As if on cue, Kovic emerged. His snowy white appearance was protected from the rain by an umbrella held up by one of his assistants. A great sound of applause followed him as he made his way towards the stage emerging from the growing crowd of staff members who stood behind the black wall of guards, though the guards remained still. Kovic was smiling brightly as if he were about to deliver some amazing news. The only line that would justify anyone here smiling like that would be "Sorry about all the stuff we did, you can all go back home now. That's on us," Eli thought as he rolled his eyes. Every time he saw this man there was something so gut-punchingly fake to hate him for. Whether it was that smugly polite and professional smile or the way his clothes seemed to be freshly pressed somehow in the middle of an alien planet, or how he looked so perfectly shaven and neatly combed when the subjects he ruled over looked dingy and gross in comparison. How everything about him represented a man who leveraged all the power afforded to ensure that he was well fed and well funded, bending the Coalition's logistics itself to ensure his own safety. All while he droned on in robotic pre-recorded messages to the prisoners about them doing their part to ensure the success of his "Utopia".

It was remarkably easy to hate Kovic. But even then, 'hate' wasn't powerful enough of a word to describe Eli's feelings towards that man. He felt as he did on the factory floor when the man had been separated from the prisoners by a thick layer of bulletproof glass - showing them off like prized possessions rather than living, thinking, feeling, people.

Kovic surmounted the stage rapidly, as he neatly combed his hair back into place with his free hand. Approaching the podium, he smiled, "Soldiers! Staff! Prisoners! Thank you all for taking the time out of your day to come here! I know the weather is not the most cooperative, but you can only play the cards you're dealt - as I'm sure we have all come to learn in these past few weeks here on Planet Narva."

There were some voices of agreement coming from the staff behind him, but the prisoners were all silent. Watching him. It was unclear whether or not Kovic believed he was talking to a crowd of prisoners - who hated him - or giving a rally to his loyal supporters. Did he actually think that they liked him? Was he that delusional about his utopia? Surely not...

"We've learned a lot on Narva. Collectively. Doing things that no other human society has been able to lay claim to. I've said it before, and I'll say it now, that what we do here, we do on behalf of all mankind. To ensure the survival and success of the human species. To give us all another home. A peaceful one. But, I will say that doing it alone is certainly no easy task. Utopia requires volunteers - brave, loyal, volunteers - who can be counted on in a time of need to stand on the correct side of history. Guardians of a future beyond ruthless pessimism and doubt, those who wish to grant our species hope by keeping it safe at the ground level. Collaborators, as some of you have called it..."

Kovic fixed his tie, leaning into the microphone with a far more grim expression. The shadows covering his face made the man appear almost menacing, "There is an enemy within our ranks," he stated bluntly.

The single line was enough to strike a wave of fear into Eli's heart, making it stop for a brief moment. For a split second, he felt as if Kovic had said Eli's name. Labeling him as an enemy to a crowd of hundreds. But of course, he hadn't.

"That enemy is a silent killer of progress. A specter haunting your ranks, corrupting your thoughts, plaguing our hearts. Anti-Cooperative elements, dangerous rogues in our society, subversive agents of our true destiny... they lurk among you. Enemies, not just to my administration, but to your collective whole. Counter-Utopians, for our purposes, are the enemy of our society. And it is important whenever we see counter-utopian values spread, that we take action to silence them," Kovic's grimace turned back into a smile, "Thankfully, many of you have already cooperated..."

From the front came another flock of security units. Three guards, and between them they were carrying someone. A phantom. He was in chains, struggling against his captors as he was brought up to the podium. His face was scarred and bruised by the beatings administered by his captors. His pleas for him to be let go sounded little more than mewls thanks to the distance between him and Eli's ears. His eyes were wide, begging to be released. But of course, he wasn't.

Another gang of security units came forward, and this time they carried a woman. She too thrashed against the armed guards carrying her by the shoulder up to the podium. Her orange hair concealed a wound that allowed blood to fall across her face. Her screams for freedom were more ferocious than the man's, but they were just as pointless in their effect. The guards would not let them go, forcing both to kneel on either side of Kovic. While the crowd of phantoms watched on horrified, Kovic seemed to smile. His blue eyes and perfectly polished white fangs seemed to glow in the darkness of the storm, matching the blue and white flag that dominated the wall behind them.

Eli felt something cold run through his veins, and suddenly he felt weak. It was like watching a sacrificial offering. But rather than offering an animal up to a heavenly father, they were humans being offered to The Coalition and Kovic himself. The flag watched on, the blue suddenly looking darker against the red of their blood and desperate pleas for release.

"These two..." Kovic began, "Were reported, by brave utopians. Potentially, one of you... They were two chief suspects in a plot to begin a mass insurrection. One lethal for all involved. I don't think I need to remind you of this, but let me reiterate - this is not Earth. Fight against us here, and everyone will die," Kovic's voice mellowed out into a growl, no longer trying to win over the support of the phantoms through his graceful professionalism. His voice concealed thinly veiled anger, threatening them all the same fate as those kneeling on either side of him.

"Counter-utopians and anti-cooperative elements will be dealt with. We will find you. Whoever you are. Wherever you are. There are three sins for which we are authorized to exact lethal justice. One is murdering any of our regular forces, your liberators, mind you. The next is conspiracy to begin an uprising. The final one is desertion. These two counter-utopians just so happen to be guilty of conspiring to do all three, and so have many more captured last night..."

Kovic gestured to the security units and they obeyed without question. Two guards held down either prisoner, while the third of either squad pulled out their firearm. A pistol pointed to the rear of the skull.

"Let this serve as your final warning..."

And with that, the guards pulled the trigger. The two gunshots were both in perfect sync, loud and powerful. There was a flash of light engulfing both figures that momentarily obscured most of the image. Eli blinked, averting his gaze, feeling the bullet penetrate his own temple. Their crimes, exactly like his own. The only difference, they received a bullet to the head while he walked. Under any other circumstance, that would've been him. But it wasn't.

The gunshot echoed for a moment capturing the shock of the prisoners who bore witness. The struggling and pleading ceased, and their bodies went limp. Sacrificial offerings to a cruel god, the blue and white of the flag behind them was no longer inseparable from the red of the blood shed by its loyal worshippers. Sadistic applause arose from the audience behind the wall of security units as if they were watching a great thing, and not a ritualistic slaughter put on display as a threat for all who dared oppose Kovic's rule.

It was mortifying. As the life drained from the two phantoms, Eli could feel himself involuntarily shake with fear. The raid from last night, the new guards, everything made sense now. Kovic had spelled it out, clear as day. Overwatch had successfully infiltrated the minds of some phantoms the day before the major operation was to take place, and with that, turned them into collaborators. Ratting out their own fellow phantoms to Overwatch, who came in during the night to apprehend those accused. Obviously, the two executed in front of their eyes were not the only ones. But they were the ones that Overwatch deemed worthy enough to make an example out of. Recognizable faces or not, it did not matter. The message was clear. Nobody could be trusted with a secret. Not even...

Eli's mind flashed for a moment to Matteo's face. Would he... no. Surely not. Eli's quaking body stole a glance at Matteo amongst the crowd of terrified prisoners. The man watched the execution, unflinchingly. He too looked startled, puzzled by what he was seeing. But not gleeful, as a collaborator would have been. Eli shook his mind clear of the thought, Matteo wouldn't do that. Not after all that Misfit had gone through together. Not after what had happened between him and Matteo. After all, Eli had promised the man he'd get him back home. Besides, most of the collaborators among the phantoms have probably already hightailed it over to the security units' side. Matteo wasn't a traitor. Eli shouldn't have even believed that for a moment.

"Utopia is not for them and they'll die like dogs, whimpering and groveling for freedom," Kovic spat into the microphone as he straightened his tie and business suit while the guards hauled the bleeding corpses off stage, "Utopia belongs to those who value it. To those who take it into their own hands. To those brave collaborators who have reported this treason to the administration, Utopia is for you. And potentially, it is for all of you, so long as you give in to what you know is right. The stars are our birthright. Don't let petty distractions steal this once-in-a-never opportunity come to pass. Don't let your only ticket home burn in your hands."

Every word continued to be a gut punch, but Kovic's tone was changing. Now instead of brutal distaste, he was starting to adopt a more soft-spoken eloquence, one that was inviting the prisoners rather than threatening them all, "I know that you are all scared. We are refugees, all of us, from shattered homes and broken dreams. There is violence everywhere. But there is safety, here, among our ranks. Our brave security units can offer you that safety if you feel so aligned as to join them. If not, the Coalition lends its hands of protection to you still. We owe it to you. There is no greater unifying force, and there is no single greater endeavor, than Utopia. To ensure its success, I'm willing to open my arms to you. All you need to do is find it in yourselves to acknowledge that you are safer here in the Nexus than anywhere else. Either on Earth or Narva. This can be your home... a beautiful one. Or a nightmare. The choice is ultimately yours, as will be the consequences," Kovic again smirked, "There's a lot happening tomorrow. I'm sure that some of you, already know what. So I'll leave you be. We're making good progress so far. Hopefully, I don't have to see any of you face to face, especially not in a manner like those two unfortunate prisoners have..."

Kovic did a quick sweep across the crowd and chuckled to himself, "Dismissed..."

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