Dimensional Access System

Chapter 2: Barren Sands and Empty-Hands 2/2

It was crystal clear to Jax that the Hive had zero intentions of setting him free, no matter how hard he busted his butt for them.

The weight of the collar around his neck was a constant reminder of his fragile existence.

The constant threat of death hovered over him every moment, like a twisted game of hide-and-seek.

The haunting memories of those poor souls who fell victim to the Hive's twisted cruelty.

Even the air he breathed felt suffocating, like every inhale was a struggle. It was enough to make you feel like you were drowning in this messed-up reality.

Every moment he spent under the Hive's oppressive thumb only fueled his seething hatred for the whole damn organization. Their sick methods and iron grip on his life ignited a burning desire for revenge deep within him.

But for now, he had to focus on one thing, survival. Every single day, he clawed, scratched, and fought tooth and nail just to keep breathing.

He clings onto life like a dog to a bone, hoping against hope that fate will throw him a bone of its own, a chance to unleash that pent-up rage and get his sweet revenge.

He knew he had to play the waiting game, patient as a saint, until the perfect opportunity presented itself. Openly defying the Hive was not an option. Not until he figured out how to ditch the cursed explosive collar choking his freedom.

It was a symbol of their domination, a cruel tool designed to crush any semblance of rebellion. But Jax wasn't about to let anything dampen his spirits. His personality refused to be subdued.

The thrill of the open road, the exhilaration of driving his motorcycle to its limits, was like medicine for his soul. As the wind kissed his skin and the rush surged through his veins, all his worries melted away, if only for a little while.

Glancing at his trusty old bike, a surge of adrenaline coursed through him. He had insisted on keeping it instead of one of the shiny new rides the Hive had offered.

Surprisingly, they didn't put up a fuss. The Hive only cared about one thing: results. As long as he did his job, they couldn't care less about his choice of wheels.

Jax had been riding the wind since he was just eleven years old, all thanks to his old man. That seasoned explorer taught him everything he knew, passing on a legacy that would forever be etched in his heart.

He even gave him one of his prized motorcycles before he disappeared, leaving behind Jax with his mother and older sister. That was the last time Jax saw or heard from him.

Jax had treasured this motorcycle ever since. To him, it was more than just a hunk of metal. It was his most prized possession, his trusted sidekick, the one thing that whisked him away from the gloominess of the wasteland.

*Beep~* *Beep~* *Beep~*

His fleeting sense of freedom got squashed as a piercing beeping sound jolted through the air. The sound was emerging from the reaper around his neck and the noise was getting louder and faster as time passes.

He knew what this meant, he had wandered too far from the outpost.

The Hive had set a boundary on their area of exploration outside in the wasteland. Even if he fled, no one he knew had any skill to remove the collar in the first place. With a heavy heart and a defeated sigh, he spun his bike around and headed back toward the outpost.

As he approached the outpost, he could see the guards stationed around it. They sneered, knowing from his expression that he had returned empty-handed, again.

Those "jokers" could practically smell failure from a mile away. Dismounting his bike, he tried to keep a low profile, avoiding any unwanted attention.

It had been a while since he'd stumbled upon anything worthwhile, which meant he was prime target practice for all the jealous losers itching to bring him down a peg or two.

Jax had realized how they kept assigning him to the areas that had already been searched by other teams. How was he supposed to find anything like this?

He let out a heavy sigh and shook his head, his thoughts drifting to his mother and sister. The thought to escape this life of slavery and reunite with his family tugged at his heartstrings.

As he approached the entrance to the Hive's outpost. One of the guards blocked his path. This dude was built like a tank, bald head gleaming and a wicked scar slashing across his cheek. The guy took a step forward, snarling like an angry dog.

"Where the fuck have you been?" the guard bellowed, grabbing Jax by the collar of his shirt. "We've been waiting for you all goddamn day, you useless piece of shit!"

Jax felt the guard's fingers digging into his shirt, a surge of heat rising inside him, but he managed to keep his cool and met the guard's furious gaze.

"I was out there, doing my job, exploring the damn wasteland," he shot back, his voice laced with frustration.

Another guard standing on the side sneered. "Exploring, huh? And what did you find this time? More worthless junk? You're just a pathetic excuse for an explorer," he spat, his words laced with venomous sarcasm.

"Quit wasting our time and get your sorry ass inside. The boss wants a word with you." the guard gave Jax a rough shove toward the entrance. Laughter erupted from the other guards nearby, their mocking jeers echoing in his ears.

Caught off guard, Jax stumbled forward but quickly regained his balance, preventing himself from face-planting on the ground.

He clenched his jaw, refusing to let the guard's insults get under his skin, and straightened his posture and, with a silent nod, he made his way towards the entrance.

As he walked, he could still hear their laughter fading behind him. The sound fueled his determination to prove them all wrong. One day, he vowed, he would have the last laugh. But for now, he had to confront the boss and brace himself for whatever lay ahead.

Jax stepped through the heavy metal door into the outpost, he took in the sights around him. The air grew colder as if the very atmosphere had turned hostile. The flickering fluorescent lights cast an eerie glow, revealing the grim surroundings.

The Hive's outpost was a sprawling compound, most of the buildings were constructed from scavenged materials. Only the leaders and high-ranking members of the Hive enjoyed the luxury of residing in the solid concrete and steel structure.

He caught glimpses of bustling activities, people hurrying to do their work, each one driven by their ambitions and desires.

Few of them glanced up at him briefly, their gazes filled with resignation and longing for freedom, before quickly diverting their attention back to their meager tasks.

Passing by cramped living quarters, he caught glimpses of weary faces, their eyes devoid of hope. They were the captured souls like him, trapped in this dismal existence.

Jax's eyes drifted to the armed guards stationed at every corner, surveying the surroundings with their cold and piercing eyes.

Their uniforms were worn, their expressions hardened by the weight of their duties. They were the enforcers of the Hive, ever watchful for any signs of defiance.

As Jax passed by armed guards and stern-faced individuals, he kept his eyes locked on the path ahead, hearing the whispers that floated through the air, that spoke of the power struggles and secret dealings.

He walked through the twisting paths of the base until he reached the heavily guarded grand chamber where the infamous and cunning outpost leader, Fletcher lives.

As Jax was escorted into the chamber, he could feel the oppressive weight of Fletcher's gaze on him. He was sitting on his throne, a symbol of his power-hungry and arrogant nature.

Flattering lieutenants surrounded him, their sycophantic smiles creating an unsettling atmosphere in the room.

Fletcher sneered, his eyes gleaming with malice, as he locked his gaze onto Jax. It was a look that conveyed to Jax that this encounter would not be a pleasant one.

"Well, well, well," Fletcher drawled, his tone oozing with sarcasm. "Look who we have here, our favorite little explorer. So, Jax, did you manage to find anything interesting today?"

Jax took a deep breath, summoning his courage. "Sir, I've been assigned to areas that have already been thoroughly searched by other teams," he began, his voice tinged with frustration. "It's been nearly impossible for me to-"

Fletcher cut him off, his voice icy and sharp. "Enough! I don't want to hear your excuses. Did you find anything or not?" he snapped, his words carrying a menacing undertone.

Jax swallowed hard, his heart pounding. He shook his head. "No, sir," he admitted. Arguing with Fletcher was futile, especially with his finger on the trigger of his life.

Leaning in closer, Fletcher's narrowed eyes intensified the chilling aura around him. "Empty-handed, huh?" he sneered.

"Your lack of interest and failure to deliver is setting a terrible example, and it is extremely bad for morale, and you know damn well what happens when morale drops, don't you?" Fletcher's voice sliced through the air like a knife.

Jax gritted his teeth, his fists clenching at his sides. "Yes, sir," he replied through clenched jaws, fully aware of the implications behind Fletcher's words.

Fletcher spat out his words, his voice dripping with disdain. "I had such high hopes for you when you first joined our ranks. Look at you now, a pitiful sight," he sneered.

The lieutenants around them watched with smug expressions, relishing in Jax's humiliation. It was a stark reminder of the cruel reality he faced within the Hive.

"Sir, if you grant me permission to explore beyond our usual boundaries, I have found some clues indicating the presence of significant ruins nearby, and-"

"Shut your mouth!" The chamber reverberated with a thunderous voice. It was one of the lieutenants, his eyes fixated on Jax with an intense, murderous gaze.

The other lieutenants shifted uncomfortably in their seats, exchanging uneasy glances, unsure of how their boss would react.

Fletcher's smirk faltered for a fleeting moment, his eyes revealing a hint of unease before transforming into pure rage. "What makes you think I would entertain such an idea? Just because you achieved some minor successes in the past, you dare to lecture me on how things should be done?"

Despite not knowing anything about it, Jax's suggestions had struck a nerve. He could only look down in silence as Fletcher continued to stare dagger at him.

The room descended into an uneasy silence. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Fletcher reclined on his throne, his fingers tapping against the armrest, his expression returning to normal.

"One more chance," Fletcher declared, a wide sneer spreading across his face. "I'm feeling generous. You have one more day to prove your worth."

"Fail me again," Fletcher's voice seethed with venom, his eyes locked on Jax. "And mark my words, your scattered remains will serve as another reminder to all who dare display incompetence within these walls."

Jax's heart sank at those words. The threat of losing his life and never seeing his family again loomed over him like a dark cloud.

With a solemn nod, Jax acknowledged Fletcher's ultimatum, his mind already racing, searching for new strategies to avoid such a fate. He had to find something, anything that would distract the Hive and buy him some time.

As he was escorted away from Fletcher's presence, Jax made his way back to his cramped bunk. Thoughts churned in his mind, searching for a breakthrough.

Escape crossed his mind, but he knew it wouldn't be easy. It would require careful planning, time, and a stroke of luck. Nevertheless, he was determined to find a way out, to break free from the Hive's clutches and reclaim his life.

Jax was no stranger to the warped beliefs of the Hive. Their devotion to an enigmatic alien entity, purportedly the architect of the world's demise, disgusted him.

Hive's society was built upon strict hierarchy and sacrificial rituals. Failure to comply with the leaders' commands resulted in a bloodthirsty hunt, with members turning on one another.

A rebel at heart, Jax despised being dictated to and refused to bow to the whims of the Hive. Rebelling against them would be a monumental risk, but he had no other choice but to try.

Lost in his thoughts, he closed his eyes and succumbed to sleep, dreaming of a world where he was free to live on his own terms.