TIC Chapter 19

 Chapter 19: On Immortality

Survival Against All Odds [Apocalypse] | 

Hein Burton possessed exquisitely beautiful features; if he so desired, everyone would fall at his feet—or rather, at the hem of his combat uniform.

"The Boss is meant to be admired from a distance; it’s men like Jan Wallace who are every woman's dream! If you ever get the chance to meet him, bro, you really ought to take some notes! Haha!"

Before he knew it, Xiao Yan had drunk too much. Typically, the potent metabolic capabilities granted by the X-virus within their bodies prevented Special Forces soldiers from ever getting drunk; yet, Xiao Yan felt dizzy and muddle-headed—he wanted to rush to the restroom, but he couldn't seem to find the right direction.

"Hey! To the left! The left! Oh, good grief! Bro, can you even tell your left from your right?" Maya leaned against the dining table, adopting a languid posture—yet, for all her concern, she made no move to step forward and steady him.

Stumbling and staggering, Xiao Yan finally made it into the restroom. Still groggy, he bumped his head against the sliding door; just as he was about to topple over, a pair of hands abruptly hauled him upright, gripping his shoulders to guide him into a private stall.

"Ugh—" Xiao Yan retched violently, spewing everything out.

The other man’s fingers pressed against the back of Xiao Yan’s neck, applying just the right angle to ensure his head didn't end up plunging into the toilet bowl.

"Hah..." Having purged his stomach completely, Xiao Yan finally felt a great deal of relief.

His spinning vision finally managed to focus; slowly, he turned around, bracing himself against the stall wall to keep from collapsing. Standing before him was a man with a face devoid of desire, defined by sharp, chiseled features and eyes that held a gaze—at once hazy and tender—that belonged to none other than Hein Burton.

Of course, that was merely how it appeared to Xiao Yan in his drunken state.

"...Colonel..."

In that instant, the other man’s hand reached out, pressing against the side of Xiao Yan’s head as he pinned him firmly against the wall.

Xiao Yan stood there, dumbfounded. *What’s going on? Did I accidentally splash Hein while I was throwing up? Am I about to get beaten up?* The sight of Hein’s hand cupping his cheek—his face turned slightly away, his eyelashes fluttering downward—all of it seemed utterly unbelievable. That is, until his lips pressed down upon him; and when his tongue parted Xiao Yan’s upper lip, the world suddenly turned upside down.

It was such a tender, lingering kiss; the tip of the other man’s tongue glided slowly through Xiao Yan’s mouth, followed by a gentle suction that seemed to stretch on endlessly. Xiao Yan’s body slid slowly downward as Hein’s knee nudged between his legs, tracing a path up his calves to lightly graze against the part of him that had already begun to stir.

“You should go back and rest.”

That icy voice instantly cleaved the world into two disjointed halves. Xiao Yan snapped back to reality, suddenly realizing that Hein was still standing right in front of him, his arms hanging naturally at his sides.

And that kiss... it had been a pure hallucination.

Xiao Yan blinked, cursing inwardly.

*Good God! This isn’t the first time this has happened! I’m practically digging my own grave here! Why on earth am I having hallucinations involving Hein Burton...?*

Was it a lingering side effect from ingesting his saliva? He knew Hein’s saliva contained the X-virus, but the virus from that blade of grass Hein had shoved into his mouth back then should have been metabolized and flushed out of his system ages ago! Besides, even if the X-virus *was* somehow triggering these erotic fantasies, why was the object of his desire *never* Lily—but always Hein Burton?

Just then, the communicator on Hein’s wrist began to flash. With a light tap of his finger, a holographic projection sprang to life, displaying the image of a liaison officer.

“Colonel Burton, the results of Manson’s neural interrogation are in.”

At the mention of Manson’s name, Xiao Yan’s muddled thoughts suddenly sharpened with a sense of relief.

He harbored a deep, lingering bewilderment—one that haunted even his dreams—as he constantly wrestled with the question: What exactly had driven Manson to betray Char? What lure had the Tide Organization used to ensnare him?

If he couldn’t find an answer, Xiao Yan knew he would be doomed to obsess over it forever. He couldn’t even stop himself from imagining the terrifying possibility: What if, one day, he himself were tempted by that very same lure?

The man standing before him turned around, bringing the holographic projection to a close. “The interrogation unit has already extracted the answers from Manson’s brain.” His voice was calm, as if divulging such classified information were the most natural thing in the world.

“Huh? What?” Xiao Yan knew he had no right to ask, yet he asked anyway.

“The Surge Organization used ‘immortality’ as bait to lure Major General Manson into defecting to their side. He then used himself as bait to lure the elite members of the Special Task Force into that basement. This was his initiation test for joining the Surge; if we had all died, he would have passed the test.”

There wasn't the slightest fluctuation of emotion in Hein’s tone; it sounded like a recording playing from a gramophone.

“Immortality?” Xiao Yan blinked. “In this world... immortality is impossible...”

Hein slowly turned his face toward him. In that fleeting moment of shifting light and shadow, his gaze drew Xiao Yan’s eyes—pulling them deeper and deeper into his depths.

“Is it that ‘immortality’ is impossible, or simply that ‘immortality’ is not permitted?”

Just when it seemed the matter regarding Professor Manson had been settled, Hein posed yet another question to Xiao Yan.

“Everything concerning Manson is classified.”

Having said this, Hein turned and walked away.

Xiao Yan, however, was utterly baffled: if it was classified, why tell *him*?

“Your brain should be used to contemplate matters of greater significance.”

His voice was even—devoid of anything but logic and rationality.

But Xiao Yan was left bewildered: would Hein actually care about what he chose to think about?

Knowing he could sleep in all day tomorrow, Xiao Yan retrieved his terminal and logged into the Central Academy of Sciences’ chat room to find his old friend, Casey. He knew that if he didn't contact him soon, Casey would be worried sick.

“You bastard! You’re actually still alive!”

The moment Xiao Yan logged on, Casey’s response was explosive.

“My apologies—I am, indeed, still alive.” Xiao Yan pursed his lips and scratched his chin with his index finger—a gesture that would be rendered in vivid 3D detail within Casey’s mind.

“Hmph! I heard you were part of the mission to rescue Professor Manson, and then I heard that Professor Manson died! Even someone of Hein Burton’s caliber couldn't save him... What on earth did you guys run into?!”

“Zombies.” Xiao Yan gave a light chuckle; he couldn't bring himself to tell Casey the actual truth. “How could it be *just* zombies? If it were only zombies, I refuse to believe Hein Burton would have come back with nothing but Professor Manson’s head! Ah... *sigh*... I really wish I could join the Criminal Investigation Unit just to take a peek inside Professor Manson’s head and see what’s going on in there!”

“Ha... Alright, fine. There were also assassins from the Tide Organization.”

“My God! You actually went face-to-face with Tide assassins?! Are you out of your mind? Are you even okay?” Cathy looked genuinely worried, which made Xiao Yan grin with a sense of smug satisfaction.

“Not only am I okay, but I actually used my service pistol to blow one of their heads right off.”

Cathy sighed. “Xiao Yan, do you physically *need* to brag just to get a meal down?”

Well, he knew that unless someone saw it with their own eyes, even *he* wouldn't believe it was true. But he did have a question he needed to ask Cathy.

“Hey... You’re an expert on the X-virus. I wanted to ask you: if—purely by accident—I were to absorb the X-virus from a Special Forces operative, would I... potentially... start having... fantasies... about that person?” Xiao Yan struggled to get the words out.

There was no way he could just march up to any random X-virus researcher and ask a question like that—not to anyone other than a close friend. He had already experienced inappropriate fantasies involving Hein Burton three times: once after falling asleep while listening to music, once inside the wind tunnel, and most recently, in the restroom.

Such fantasies were far too abnormal—and far too dangerous.

“Huh?” Cathy looked surprised for a moment, but then her expression turned serious. “What ‘route’ did this absorption take? Kissing? Or did you end up in bed together? Wait—what? Did you hook up with some female Special Forces operative? Xiao Yan, if you value your life, I’m warning you: cut ties with her *immediately*! The X-virus is highly addictive! Plus, a normal human body simply cannot withstand the sheer power a Special Forces operative unleashes when they lose control!”

The fact that Cathy had assumed Hein was a *female* Special Forces operative actually came as a relief to Xiao Yan; after all, a female operative would at least be... well, a woman.

“...Yeah. She’s... quite charismatic... But don’t worry, things haven’t progressed to *that* stage yet.” Xiao Yan still wasn't entirely comfortable lying to Cathy; usually, she could see right through his lies with ease, simply because they knew each other so well.

“And reaching *that* stage is strictly forbidden!” Cathy’s tone grew stern. “I know! I know! I just want to figure out—since I kissed her... you know... and ingested a little of her saliva... could that be causing me to have fantasies about her? If so, how do I stop having them?”

“...Is she in front of you right now?” Casey pressed a hand to his head and let out a weary sigh.

“Sometimes she is... sometimes she isn't...”

“Listen: if she is physically present, and you start having a fantasy, it’s because she is projecting **desire** onto you. The X-virus accelerates the secretion of hormones in her body; these hormones travel through the air and enter your system, triggering what we call ‘fantasy symptoms’ in you.”

“...And what if she *isn't* in front of me?” He recalled that one time he’d woken up from a dream about Hein; he remembered how mortified he’d felt when he threw back the covers. Was that merely a simple dream, or had he actually been under the other man’s influence?

“Either you want to sleep with him, or he’s invaded your mind,” Casey shrugged helplessly. “Xiao Yan, you need to extricate yourself from this situation—and fast. I’d hate for the day to come when I have to perform an autopsy on you myself.”

Xiao Yan laughed. “That day will never come!”

He had never once entertained the thought of getting intimate with Hein; after all, the woman of his dreams—the one he truly yearned for—was a beauty like Lily. As for Hein, he had absolutely no reason to invade Xiao Yan’s mind—though Xiao Yan was quite certain the man was an expert in precisely that sort of thing.

Suddenly, he realized that someone was sitting at the other end of his bed—he hadn't the faintest idea when they had arrived—and he instantly wiped every trace of expression from his face.

“Xiao Yan! You idiot! Why’d you go silent all of a sudden?”

His connection with Casey was cut off.

The man by the bedside—resting his left knee upon the mattress—leaned in closer to Xiao Yan. With his chin tilted slightly upward and his eyelids lowered, he exuded an aura of asceticism that was, paradoxically, lethally seductive.

Xiao Yan instinctively recoiled.

“Burton... Colonel...”

Why was he here, in his room?

And if he *had* entered, how was it that Xiao Yan hadn't noticed a thing?

Hein advanced step by step, his handsome features coming into sharp focus before Xiao Yan’s eyes.

It was the most unforgettable sight he had ever beheld.

“Colonel... may I ask...”

Before Xiao Yan could finish his sentence, Hein tilted his head slightly and captured Xiao Yan’s lips with his own. Despite the gentleness of his posture, the kiss itself was utterly resolute and relentless; its ever-intensifying pressure seemed intent on drawing the very soul out of Xiao Yan. The force of the other man’s tongue—and the constantly shifting angles as he thrust ever deeper—irrevocably plundered his every sensation.

Xiao Yan was seized by panic; he tried to struggle with all his might, only to discover that his body was utterly paralyzed.

Hein pinned him down against the pillows, his fingers tearing away every last shred of clothing. He stroked every inch of Xiao Yan’s skin with an intense, possessive fervor—as if seeking to hold the very flow of his blood captive within the palm of his hand.

His legs were hoisted high into the air as the other man bore down upon him. Xiao Yan’s mouth fell open; he watched the unfolding scene in sheer terror as the relentless, frenzied thrusting continued—a frenzy so absolute that, aside from the overwhelming presence of the man above him, Xiao Yan lost all sense of anything else.

“Why…?” Xiao Yan managed to choke the question out from deep within his throat.