Logbook 1: The Contract 

Sleep is a luxury.

A necessity stolen from him more than twenty years ago. All it took was a broken piece of glass. His false reality shattered. He sat up on his bed, a gasp, or what sounded like one, escaping from his throat. He had his claw over his metal chassis, feeling his insides being squeezed, the compressed air being sucked out. At that moment, he ran into the bathroom.

He felt the cold water from the shower drench his head, washing over him until he felt the tightness of his chest slowly release. He rested his head against the broken tile wall of the dim bathroom. His optics clicked as he blinked, noticing the water pressure had lowered. Any water that was left in the tank had now been emptied. He titled his neck back, hearing the gears move and rattle like marbles in a glass jar. He ran his claw down his face and flicked the water away before stepping out of the shower.

He sighed.

It was a strange sensation, to feel, with no skin or nerves. Impossible. But, he felt everything. Every individual droplet from the water. Every agonizing, touch and pain. The ability to feel, forcefully integrated into his programming because of scientific curiosity. It was torture.

He stepped out of the bathroom and lifted his eyes. A sniveling form tied to a chair was in front of him, bound by zip ties and duct tape. It took him less than a second to remember who it was he had captured. A random scientist, in his mid forties, who used to work from Hammond Robotics. The company who created the first functioning simulacrum, programmed to kill. Revenant. A name he learned to adopt. It was a suited name, from how he was made.

Revenant stared at the scientist, a literal nobody, not very important in his field. The scientist's job was data management, which was watching numbers go up and down in a graph. Phil...something. He forgot. He wasn't even sure if his name was Phil. He didn't care. The only thing he cared about was "Phil" being employed by Hammond Robotics at some point in his life. It was Revenant's personal mission, to eradicate anyone who was involved in his creation. No matter how insignificant it may have been.

"Phil" began to whimper and cry when Revenant began getting closer to him, which only grew louder when he locked eyes with him. "Phil" had been in his care for about a few days now, the whole time being tied to the chair had turned his hands and feet purple. If he did manage to escape, he wasn't going to be running or walking away. "Phil" began to struggle in his chair, rocking side to side, trying desperately to get away. It sounded as if he was saying something, but the duct tape over his mouth made it difficult for him to form the words. Not that Revenant cared. He didn't care about anything. But if he had to take a guess, he would say "Phil" was begging him to let him go.

Revenant stretched his arm out, dislocating it from his socket before popping it back in with a satisfied sigh. He liked to get flexible when he finished a job. He stretched out his claws and flicked it back, making his fingers stick together into a jagged point, like a makeshift knife. He was made for this. He was only made for this. To kill.

And he enjoyed it.

"Phil" began to struggle even harder, until Revenant reached out and grabbed the back of the chair.

"Stop moving, Skinbag." Revenant said and aimed. "I don't want a big mess." He plunged his metal claw into "Phil's" chest, through his heart and out from his back.

Revenant watched Phil's eyes turn cloudy, feeling his body buckle and twitch against his arm. He felt the warmth of the blood seep against his metal skin until he felt "Phil" go limp. He yanked his arm out and wiped the blood off against "Phil's" shirt. He kicked the chair over, knocking his body to the side. Revenant decided to clean up later and walked back to his bed. Not to sleep. He couldn't.

It was a lone mattress on the floor, dirty and worn. He was in an abandoned penthouse. Left forgotten and abandoned. Condemned. It was perfect to be alone in. No one to hear, no one to interrupt. He often moved around. Never staying in one place too long. He had only been squatting at the penthouse for less than a week. The paint of the walls had been chipped and damaged. The floor was covered in dirt, trash and now with blood. But the windows were high and wide. Most of its panels were missing, yet it provided a view of the city's skyscrapers. Especially at night. The lights and the noise provided a needed...distraction.

From his mind.

He laid back down on his bed and closed his optics. Even if he couldn't sleep, he could at least pretend. He would concentrate on counting, clearing his mind until the sounds of blaring cars from the city drifted away. It was more like meditation than actual sleep. It was close. But not enough.

                                           __________________________________________

"Hey, hey everyone! Good games today! Hey let's celebrate with a round of drinks, on me!...J-Just the first round, I'm generous but not that generous."

Revenant rolled his optics in annoyance as he walked past Mirage and the other Legends to his own private section of the dropship. Mirage, or Elliot, was one of the Legends for the Apex Games, a glorified, attention-seeking, annoying nobody who was lucky enough to join the Games. A "team-based" competition broadcast to millions of viewers. Mirage was one of the Legends Revenant wanted to eliminate the most. Mirage is the type of person who would brag about what he had for lunch to anyone who would listen. He talked big and loves being the center of attention. It was disgusting to witness. Mirage would do anything to make others like him and constantly tried to become closer to the other Legends. The only smart thing Mirage had ever done, is staying away from him.

Revenant ignored the other Legends chatter and made his way to his own space. It was a little corner of his own. Far away from the others. It didn't have much. The walls were bare and all he had was his Death Totem, the source of his shadow ability and a grindstone to sharpen his claws. It was the only part of his body where he felt no pain. It was equal to cutting fingernails. The dropship swiftly became quiet as most of the Legends left to go with Mirage. He thought he would finally be left alone until he heard a set of heavy footsteps and asmatic breathing. Revenant lowered his eyes, already knowing who his visitor was, in response, he turned on his grindstone and began to sharpen his left claw.

"What do you want, Nox." Revenant said, not wanting to be too invested in what the doctor had to say to him. Alexander Nox, was known as Caustic in the Apex Games based on his toxic gas grenades. He was obviously less than popular with the other legends. The sick doctor coughed a few times in his gas mask before clearing his throat to speak.

"I heard about what happened between you and Miss Andrade."

Revenant's claw twitched inward, the tips of his claws snapping off against the wheel. He lifted his hand, seeing the damage. He growled and cursed bitterly, knowing he would have to get them replaced.

"Ah." Caustic mused. "A sensitive topic, I suppose."

"Do me a favor, will you? Take a deep breath in some nerve gas." Revenant snapped back.

"Hm. You don't reject my comment? Then I will take what I know as fact."

"Here's another fact." Revenant turned around to face Caustic, who stood his ground. "Whatever you heard, stay out of it or I'll drown you in a vat of your own pesticides."

"Please, don't threaten me, Simulacrum. You couldn't kill me even if you tried."

"Oh. But I can try." Revenant growled. "Now, piss off. I'm busy." He turned away from Caustic and back towards his grindstone.

"After all these years, beaten by some novice thief."

Revenant snarled and snapped his claws together, facing Caustic. "You...should be very careful when you talk to me." He began, taking a step towards Caustic and looming over him. "Stay out of my business and stay out of hers, this is between us."

Caustic scoffed and followed with a cough. "Or what exactly? Kill me?" It was true. Revenant couldn't kill him, not if he was still part of the games. No, he couldn't threaten him. Instead, he changed tactics. He straightened his back, putting down his hand and nodded.

"No. But I am interested in Wattson." If he can sneer, he would have when he saw how quick Caustic changed his prideful mood. Wattson was one of the Legends and he knew how close the doctor used to be to the young scientist, almost seeing her as a daughter. "I could give her another scar to match the one she has...or I can make one up, I can be creative."

"Don't you dare-" Caustic began, taking a step. Revenant placed his index finger on Caustic's chest.

"Then I recommend you turn around and go back to studying, Doc..." He said, pushing him back with his finger. Caustic gave him a glare, muttered a slur at him and walked away. Revenant chuckled when he saw Caustic leave the airship. Now, he was finally alone. Yet, he couldn't shake what Caustic had said to him. It infuriated him to know that he was right, he put his trust on a little girl whose parents he murdered. He should have seen her betrayal coming, but in his desperation, he made a tactical error. Now, his source code, the product of his being, is floating for eternity in space. It was the only thing that kept him alive, without it, he was damned to live for eternity. Never to fully experience death. He slammed his claws on his table, digging them into the wood. He hated it. He hated living. There was nothing else he could do but to torment the girl who betrayed him, Loba. He had all the time in the world now.

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When he's not in the Apex games, he is off doing something else. Anything to fight his boredom, and keep his mind off of his immortality. He sat on an edge of a roof, his legs dangling off the side. He imagined pushing himself off from the building and plummeting over thirty stories down into the concrete below. Unfortunately, his programming negated his mind from going through with that suicidal fantasy. If he did manage to do it, the failsafe of his programming would immediately download him into another fresh artificial body in a matter of minutes. He sighed and stared blankly into the city slums, listening to the blaring noise of traffic. It provided him a good distraction and also doing recon. It was an old habit, integrated into his programming. He would choose a mark, or "victim" and watch them. He would memorize their route, where they work, who they talk to, what they eat, how they sleep and after stalking them for a few days, he would get bored and move on to another one. None of them being the wiser, even when he sneaks into their homes to watch them sleep. He didn't bother killing any of them, unless it was for a job or if they worked for Hammond Robotics. He didn't like working for free. He unclipped his pistol from his waist and pointed the barrel behind him.

"You shouldn't sneak up on me. It's not very smart." He said, turning his head sideways. He gave Wraith a bored look while she stood behind him, unfazed from having a gun pointed straight at her head. She had a scarf wrapped around her head, covering her mouth and nose, leaving her eyes exposed. She had her eyes lowered, mirroring the same boredom. She pointed at a spot beside him.

"Do you mind if I sit down?"

He lifted the barrel upward towards the sky, before turning away and moving the gun back into the holster against his waist.

"Do what you want. I could use some company."

The dimension-jumper sat down at the edge beside him, while also keeping her distance from him. Smart. He thought. He went back into his "recon", watching through an apartment window of a middle aged man shaving his legs with a dull plastic razor, on top of his coffee table. He grimaced on the inside.

"Is this what you do everyday?"

"Hm. Do what?" He replied, leaning his head against his palm.

"Sit here. Like some sort of...gargoyle."

"It beats staring in the mirror and mumbling to myself, or is that something exclusive to you?" Wraith shifted towards him in slight surprise. "Yeah, I know about your episodes."

Her eyes narrowed at him. "Alright. Nevermind. I'll get straight to the point." She reached into her pocket, taking out a small holo image. She held it out to Revenant, showing him a bald, round-face man, wearing a white lab coat with a lot of coins attached with the promise of his death. "I got a job, if you're interested."

He held out his palm, making him drop the holo chip into his hand. He brought it up closer to him, reading over the description. He recognized the chip from his previous jobs, and the type of holo-image. His optics whirled with interest when he saw the amount of money attached, and the title of the mark's occupation. "Simmulacrum Researcher and Developer." He closed his palm, making the image dissapear.

"Let's say I am. What made you think of me? Need some advice?"

"I need your...skill-set." She said with slight hesitation.

"Aw." He put a hand over his chest. "I'm touched."

"The mark is heavily guarded and constantly moves around, I tracked him stationed on the remote moon of Tartos."

"Tartos? Heh. He won't be there for long from how cold the moon can get during its phases."

"Exactly. Which is why I am here."

"You don't seem the type to do this kind of job."

"Then you haven't been watching me long enough."

"Oh. Good point. I should reconsider continuing."

"Please don't." She said, almost warning him. He chuckled, ignoring it.

"What's in it for you?" He pressed. "Not money. No, not the money. He has something you want?"

"No. But my contractor does, the job needs to be finished before he gives me the information that I need."

"Hm."

"I thought you'll be more willing to participate considering that the mark knows about Simulacrums, maybe you can gain something from him."

"Maybe."

"Also, you can keep the money."

"How generous. Deal." He lifted himself up and stretched out his arms. "When do we leave?"

Wraith stood up. "Tonight. I got a ship, we can take that...do you need anything before we go?"

He tapped a finger against his temple. "I need a pair of binoculars, high-grade, something with a telescopic lens that can pick up infrared."

"Done." She reached into her pocket and gave him a piece of folded paper. "These are the directions to my ship, see you then." She waved her hand upward, creating a portal.

"One last thing." He said, lifting a finger out at her. She turned to him and blinked. "How did you find me?" She let out a sniff and turned back to her portal.

"Let's say a little bird told me." She jumped into the portal and it vanished in an instant. Revenant made a mental note to himself to make sure to move to a different spot. He opened up the piece of paper, read it over and tore it up.

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It had been a while since he accepted a job. He needed to do something to alleviate his boredom. He wrapped his head scarf over his nose and mouth, tying it securely against his face. He covered his optics with a pair of goggles and wrapped himself in a long and heavy coat. From a distance, no one would notice he was a simulacrum. He walked through alleyways and behind warehouses, making sure he wasn't being followed as he made his way towards Wraith's ship. It wasn't hard to spot, it was the only one stationed inside a dim garage. It was old, rusted and was leaning towards the left, it looked like it might implode if it gets off the ground. He could only hope. The bay doors were opened and Wraith sitting on the incline. She stared at him, noticing his disguise.

"Why hide your face?" She asked.

He took his claw out of his pockets and gestured to himself.

"I have a distinct look. Let's be honest, if you see me walking down the street, you'll tell somebody, won't you?" She arched a brow at him. He pulled at his coat collar. "And it gives me an excuse to wear this."

She lifted herself up, walking inside her ship. "Never knew you were the type."

"I'm a professional." He replied, following behind her. "I have to wear a disguise."

"I meant, wearing clothes."

He stopped and stared at her for a moment, his optics whirled when he chuckled. "Oh. A joke. Very funny."

Wraith hummed and sat down in her pilot seat. She flicked a switch, closing the bay doors behind him. He took a seat beside her, and crossed his arms. The ship rattled and hummed when she activated the motors, and it let out a piercing screech as the landing gear began to move across the landing strip. She glanced over to him leaning back against his seat.

"Seatbelt."

"Hm?"

"Put on your seatbelt."

"Ah. No."

Wraith pulled against the wheel, the ship lifting itself up from the ground and towards the atmosphere. "Don't believe it?"

Revenant tapped a finger against his arm. "In a crash, you are seventy percent more likely to survive with minor injuries."

"Right."

"The other thirty percent, you find yourself missing the lower half of your body because of the momentum and constriction of the seatbelt. You are alive for three minutes." He felt his back press against his seat from the pull of the ship as it reached closer to space. "If we do manage to crash, better to go quickly." The ship jolted forward, breaking through the atmosphere. Wraith let go of the wheel, setting the ship to autopilot.

"Its going to take 36 hours before we reach the moon." She said, unbuckling herself out of her chair. "If you need to sleep, you can-"

"I don't sleep."

"Then don't expect me to carry a conversation..."

"Shame. I was looking forward to braiding each other's hair and telling secrets, got any I should know about?"

"Try to stay quiet."

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He was built for one thing. Death. He was made with the finest materials on the planet Gaea, designed to be faster and stronger than any human. Killing is a part of his programming. He had no complaints about it. It was a skill he mastered before his force transition into a machine. Killing was all he had left to enjoy.

Revenant was reading the hit request from the holo-image Wraith had given him. It was a long-winded request, written like a professional article, describing the soon-to-be dead scientist in detail.

Dr. Henry Fischer

 Age: 54

 Lead Researcher of Simmulacrum Study and Development

Dr. Henry Fischer is known for his recent release of The Minds of Simmulacrums, published to the public as an argumentative piece of continuing the creation of future simmulacrums. Followed by the release of the article, controversy arose when he requested human volunteers to transition their minds into new Simmulacrum bodies.

Revenant moved his finger upward, scrolling through the request. His eyes moving rapidly, reading every word in one fluid motion. His mind processing and retaining the information until he reached the end of the request. He closed the holo-image, his thumb brushing against the metal chip. He let out a hum.

"Where did you get this?" He said, lifting the chip up to Wraith. She had her head down, with her eyes closed. They had been traveling for more than twenty hours and she decided to take a short nap before he interrupted her. She let out a short sigh.

"It was sent to me, by the contractor themselves."

Revenant flicked the chip upwards, making it land on his palm.

"Themselves? Hm. And they chose you?"

Wraith lifted her head up, narrowing her eyes at him. "What about it?"

"Heh. In this type of work, you need to make a name for yourself, and I don't see your name anywhere, so why you? Why not someone with more experience? I can name five off the top of the head, one being me."

"Where are you getting at?"

"Hey. All I am saying is that, whoever your "contractor" is, they're a newbie, like you." He threw the chip at her, making it land on her lap.

"As long as they give me what I want, I don't care."

"How do you know they will deliver?" Revenant leaned back in his chair and saw Wraith pursed her lips together. "You don't. Let me guess. I bet they gave you some bullshit information, something that tickled you, along with a vague promise of giving you the rest if you kill the guy....please tell me you took some type of percentage when you took the job?"

Wraith shifted in her seat, making Revenant chuckle at her.

"Big...no, huge rookie mistake. Never do a job for free."

"Great." Wraith cursed under her breath. "Then I'm probably wasting my time, on a whim, on some information that probably won't-" She bit her lip, stopping herself. She gripped the chip in her hand so tightly her knuckles turned white. Revenant rolled his neck and let out a tired sigh.

"Want some advice?"

"I guess."

"Threaten them."

Wraith scoffed. "How? I don't even know who they are, what their name is or what they look like, no name, no location."

"You don't need that. In this type of work,there are no names, only the target's. When you hire a hitman, you don't want to use your real name, keep things simple, in case things don't work out." He pointed to the chip. "Cancel the job."

"What? But what if-"

"If what? Don't be an idiot. They said they have something you want, but you are willing to do something they need. Cancel. The. Job." Wraith looked down at the chip in her hand, he brow furrowed in thought and hesitation. "I don't give a damn what you do, but I don't do jobs for free and as much fun it is killing randoms, I rather be paid for doing it."

She gave him a glance and stared back at the chip. He watched as she brought up the holo-screen and declined the job. Revenant leaned forward and pointed to the screen.

"Now watch. You want to make them sweat, if they're serious, they will contact you again and-" A beep escaped from the chip, followed by another "Right on time. Answer and set the terms, oh and make sure to send the money my way."

Wraith took her time setting the terms, he watched her demand for one-third of the funds to be wired into his personal account, off brand and with a fake name. He saw the transfer be made immediately and Wraith was surprised by how quickly their contractor responded. But he wasn't surprised, considering whoever they were, they wanted the hit dealt with and gone. It didn't matter why. He never questioned it. He never stopped to think about the why, he only focused on getting the job done. Wraith leaned back in her chair, putting the chip in her pocket.

"Thanks. Never thought of ever thanking you for anything, but in this case, I appreciate it."

"Don't thank me. It makes me nauseous. If I didn't mention it, I wouldn't have gotten paid."

"I thought you would be satisfied if you killed anybody in any way." She stated, he shrugged his shoulders.

"Yeah. But...I haven't taken a job in a few months. I was starting to get bored."

"Was it because of Loba?"

Revenant slowly turned to Wraith, who was staring out into space. He narrowed his optics at her and let out a string of curses under his breath.

"How many of you skinsuits know?"

"Mostly everyone. Except for Mirage."

"Damn it. I never knew Loba would be so keen to share our little private...conversation." He gripped the armrests tightly, digging his claws into the exterior. "I shouldn't act so surprised. I've been wrong on a lot of things."

"Hey. You deserve it, considering what type of person you are." He turned to her, finally locking eyes with her. "Or do you prefer robot, tell me what you prefer if you care for that sort of thing..." She shook her head. "You killed her parents. Terrorized her. Terrorized the rest of us, not to mention all the different times you said how you'll personally murder each of us, is not winning you any popularity contest."

"I wasn't trying to-"

"But you choose whatever trust you had, in Loba?"

He turned away from her and slumped in his chair, the grip he had on the armrest growing tighter. "I was desperate..." He said in a growl. He came to her, revealed his weakness to her on why he longed to die. "I knew she wanted me dead and I gave her the opportunity and then she decided to....to-" The metal strained underneath his claws until it broke releasing all of his rage. "Throw it all away, into a goddamn phaserunner!" He ripped the armrests off of the chair, throwing them aside. "That was my chance. She was my only chance to death and she threw me away, like I was nothing!" He lifted himself out of the chair, his claws turning into fists as he stared hatefully to his own reflection. It was ironic, seeing himself in space, along with his source code, wherever it may be. He closed his optics, calming himself down until he released a long sigh. He fell back into his seat, continuing to stare into space. "This is Hell. Endless suffering. Why don't I give it to everybody else? It's only fair."

Wraith didn't move from her seat during his tirade or interrupted, she turned her head towards space and stared out along with him. "I feel sorry for you." He let out a dry laugh. "But, I understand. More than you know."

"Let's not pretend. You don't."