Hey there, all you beautiful people!
So, this is just an idea for a fanfiction that I needed to get down on paper, per say. Here's a prologue, just to test the waters before I continue. I'd appreciate any reviews about what I can do to improve and where I should go with my story. It WILL contain OCs, but I'll try not to have them stick out too much. And if any of this material looks similar to what you already have in a story and you feel that I am plagiarising, LET ME KNOW!
Valhalla Outpost 17B, Present Day
"He took it all from us! He split us apart, and he wants us to die!"
"North, watch out!"
"We AI really need to stay together."
"Where's Carolina? What happened?"
"Wash, I'm sorry. Epsilon's gone."
"Recovery One, we have another beacon."
Agent Washington sprang up from his resting position, groping blindly in the darkness for the light switch and knocking over empty glasses for water to reach the small panel that would illuminate his room and drive away the nightmares. Gasping, he held his shaking body as the dim lights came to life in his small bedroom. It took him a moment, but then he remembered where he was. He was good at remembering things.
It had been nearly a month since the Simulation soldiers had defeated the Meta and Epsilon had entered the capture unit after the Texas AI. Since the UNSC believed him to be dead, it was worth it to take "command" of the Blue Team at Outpost 17B, aka "Valhalla", and just relax as much as he could. The Red Team were even being nice and had given the Blues some much needed rest. It was more for Wash's and Caboose's sake than anything, but they all needed a chance to relax after their most recent incident with the Meta.
Life at Blue Base was taken in stride (even though Caboose's lamenting over the loss of Church had merely become annoying after a bit), but though Epsilon had come and gone from Wash's life as quickly as before, he seemed more afflicted with memories from his past with Project Freelancer than ever before.
It may have been working directly with the UNSC again. It may have been working alongside Maine again. It may even have been seeing Texas and realizing that the shells of a being could still live, and think, and exact their revenge.
Whatever the case, whatever the logic or reasoning behind their recurrence, Wash knew that these memories that were coming back as nightmares were not only coming back for no good reason.
And Wash did wish that the past could just stay that way and he could go on with his life. Memories never seemed to do that, though. He had repressed them for years.
And just like memories had the habit of doing, the past did not stay away forever.
Reviews and followers are appreciated, flames are not. Thanks.