Masked - Chapter 1

OK, not gonna lie… This is majorly Sleep Token inspired… And it is absolutely in homage to the mask kink that I apparently have. I'm really pleased with the world-building on this one. I do love me some sci-fi.

Status: WIP
 Genre: Science Fiction/Paranormal Romance
 Romance: M/F, M/M TW:

• Violence and Terrorism: The story includes a bombing, politically motivated attacks, attempted murder, weapons, poisoning, physical combat, serious injuries, blood, and descriptions of facial and bodily trauma.

• Death, Grief, and Trauma: Characters experience the apparent deaths of loved ones, intense grief, survivor’s guilt, traumatic separation, nightmares, panic attacks, emotional breakdowns, and ongoing post-traumatic distress.

• Kidnapping and Loss of Agency: The narrative includes forced removal, confinement in an unfamiliar culture, involuntary sedation, restricted freedom, institutional pressure, and characters making decisions for others under the justification of protection.

• Consent and Boundary Concerns: The romance features possessive and obsessive behavior, jealousy, unwanted physical proximity, assumed intimacy, an initially non-consensual kiss, and significant power imbalances complicated by emotional dependence and captivity.

• Medical Trauma and Body Modification: The story contains emergency medical treatment, invasive reconstruction, loss of an eye, prosthetic replacement, drugging, injections, stasis, resuscitation after clinical death, and distress surrounding medical procedures.

• Prejudice and Cultural Conflict: The narrative depicts xenophobia, intolerance, cultural stigma, dehumanizing language, political extremism, social exclusion, and hostility surrounding cultural and bodily differences.

• Substance Use: Alcohol and intoxicating substances are depicted, along with prescription and emergency medication, sedation, anti-anxiety drugs, and medically administered mind-altering substances.

• Sexual Content: The book contains explicit sexual content and sexual recollections, including penetrative sex, manual stimulation, masturbation, group sexual activity, possessive intimacy, public or semi-public sexual behavior, and multiple romantic pairings.

One.

“Oclutos are a bunch of freaks,” Zee said dismissively, fidgeting. “I just don’t get it, the mask thing.”

“It’s part of their culture Zee, c’mon.” I frowned and rubbed the back of my neck, under the braids Zee had done my hair up in earlier that morning. “We need to be careful, it’s important, making these inroads with them. This is historic.”

Zee shrugged and screwed up his face. He nibbled on one black painted nail till I gently lowered his hand from his mouth.

“They make me nervous, Echo,” he finally admitted. “The masks, the mystery? It’s intimidating.”

I clicked my tongue. “You’re fine. Don’t let the ambassador intimidate you. They are just people, after all.”

“That’s debatable.” 

“Zee, enough!” I frowned, and he quieted. Zee was beyond brilliant, but he struggled with social cues and a lack of filters, and new things often made him anxious. He was F1, with all that entailed. 

I took in the almost feline features, the slightly sloping forehead, all the genetic markers of an F1. I’d known him since we were in crèche together. Even though I wasn’t F1, somehow Zee and I kept finding our way to one another. The mamas and aunties would discover us, curled up like two little kittens, fast asleep. No matter how often they returned Zee to his fellow F1s, he would find his way back to me.

We’ve been together ever since.

“Alright, Zee-bo, let’s go.” I pushed off and shuttled through the arm, spinning to orient as the centrifugal force slowly pulled at me with an increasing grip until we both dropped onto the embassy module in easy crouches. 

“Zee, mouth closed, ears open.”  I watched my friend nod, and his bright, golden eyes focused. We swept in, but despite all the prep, I found myself stuttering to a brief halt at the doorway to the conference room. They hovered there like a bunch of murder of crows. The tallest of them cocked his head in an almost birdlike way. I stared. The masks completely covered their faces. They were molded to approximate the planes and valleys of the heads underneath. A section covered the mouth and chin, which was hinged. My understanding was they retracted it at times, to eat, or when among people they were close to. The eyes were covered with feedback glass-plex, giving them a slightly insectile quality. 

There were strange symbols and etchings across the defined cheeks. I knew they had meanings, likely tribal, but Oclutos were deeply insular and private. The best research of the Meterine was that there was far more we were in the dark about than we knew regarding these enigmatic people.

“Ambassador?” I asked the tallest one as they turned my way. They appeared masculine in presentation, not that it was totally clear with the mask, nor did it matter, of course. I waited as they disengaged from the others and stepped forward. I watched them approach and tried not to swallow hard as they towered over me. As a Hybrid, I was used to being tall, but not quite as much as F1s like Zee, who topped me by a few centimeters. Still, spending as much time with grounders as I did, I was often the tallest one in the room. 

But this person had a good ten centimeters on me. I drew myself up and clasped my hands behind my back in a formal stance. I needed to project confidence. That didn’t stop them from radiating faint amusement as they swept up to me. I kept my body relaxed, but felt a frisson of… something, as they stopped before me. I took in the mask, which I knew Oclutos referred to as Occlusions, and the flowing robe and hood made of nano-smart material that made the edges ripple and float slightly, as though they were standing underwater. 

I took in the tight leather top and pants, which framed a rather impressive male feature now that they were close. I tore my gaze away and felt I had been caught out despite being unable to see the ambassador’s eyes. Something about their stance told me they’d noticed my regard. I felt my cheeks heat slightly.

“Echo Varin, I am so pleased to see you,” they intoned in a warm, roughened baritone. I was surprised by their voice. I don’t know what I expected, perhaps something distorted through some sort of voice modulator, or a dark, rough hiss. 

There was a little rumble of discontent from the faction of Oclutos still grouped on the far side of the room. I thought I knew why. In the Meterine we had gone back and forth over whether we should cover our faces. Some said it was a matter of deference and respect, others insisted that if Oclutos wished to treat with the Collective, and be a part of it, they had to respect others’ freedoms not to be masked. That was the opinion that won out in the end, and one I agreed with, frankly.

 The ambassador’s greeting was… daring. My understanding was an Oclutos saying ‘I see you’ tended to be a phrase reserved for family and close companions. That, as much as my uncovered face, was causing a stir among the rank and file, apparently. The ambassador still carried an air of slightly smug amusement and seemed unconcerned by their compatriots' grumblings.

“I am Ambassador—”

Here they rambled off a string of musical syllables and a couple of hard clicks. I recorded it, of course, and thought I could make a game try at saying it back, but they continued before I could gird myself to make the attempt.

“But you can call me Story. I am he.”

“Ambassador Story, As you so graciously noted, I am Echo Varin, Proxy to the Collective and your guide during this time. I am she.” I gave a sweeping bow. I gestured to Zee.

“This is Zee 4248. They are he, they. Zee is my Element.”

“An F1, how fascinating. I have heard of your kind,” Story bowed elegantly, his hood shrouding his mask slightly, the edges of his robe billowing hypnotically. “I am surprised to hear your role is that of Element. Surely, one such as you should be dancing the stars?”

I wanted to pinch Zee and warn him to watch what he said. But he seemed to still be taking the ‘mouth closed, ears open’ command to heart. Zee merely gave a small shrug to Story, and inclined his head. Since it was not my story to tell, nor was this the place to tell it, I remained mute as well, simply examining the ambassador with interest.

When he turned his head slightly, I caught a flash of very pale skin, the edge of a jaw, a slice of throat. He hummed thoughtfully and then nodded. A second Oclutos stepped forward. They were almost as tall as Story, but bigger. Even under all the billowing, liquid grace of the robes, it was clear this one was very muscular. Their body language came off as slightly aggressive, but controlled. I further straightened and eased the placement of my feet in response. That earned me an amused huff from Story. I merely arched an eyebrow.

“This is my companion,” again, a slurry of musical sounds and sharp clicks that reverberated in the air. “You can call them Mountain. They are he.”

“Fair enough,” Zee mumbled, eyeing the large Oclutos with interest. I bowed to the second one, unsure of his role. Companion could mean anything from fellow ambassador to bodyguard to lover. I watched the body language as the second Oclutos nodded tersely to us. I decided likely he had a role similar to an Element, managing all logistics and care, with a side of bodyguard thrown in. I figured I’d go off that assumption till something proved otherwise.

“Please,” I gestured and led them to the center of the room. There, we went through a mind-numbing meet-and-greet with various members of the Collective and the others who were part of the Oclutos party. I eventually was seated just catty-corner to Ambassador Story. Given the tilt and angle of his head and how he was not moving it, I was fairly sure his gaze was staying largely on me. At one point, I turned and looked directly into his lenses. He stuttered and stilled, frozen till, worried I’d made him uncomfortable, I turned away.

Even though I had studied the Oclutos (or at least, I had pored over the meager amount of intel we had) and I had reprimanded Zee for being xenophobic, the truth was, I found them disconcerting too. They had been Terran once, like we all had, sharing that common root from the cradle of mankind (cesspool though it now was, under the guise of being a monument to our origins.) But like most of humanity, they had strayed far from those initial genetic roots. Unlike most of humanity, though, they had lived largely apart from the rest of us, unknown and enigmatic. 

Story had an… energy about him. It was… unnerving. He shifted a little closer, and I found myself bracing internally to keep from pulling back a little. 

“So you never?” Zee leaned past me and circled his hand around his face. I cringed, but Story merely gave an amused huff.

“Never, except in private…” his face again oriented toward me. “Alone.”

“Alone-alone, or alone with someone else?” Zee cocked his head, his shaggy white-blond hair falling over his golden eyes.

“Completely alone.”

“So you never reveal yourself even to a… partner?”

“Zee, please, let’s not corner the poor ambassador with all these personal questions,” I murmured. Zee huffed softly and sat back, worrying at a fingernail. 

“It’s alright,” Story said, twitching his fingers into a small sigil. I knew about this. They used small hand and finger movements to indicate certain emotional states to help with comprehension, since one couldn’t draw inferences from facial expressions. I aped the movement and raised an eyebrow. He cocked his head and I realized he probably didn’t know what raising an eyebrow meant.

Fascinating.

“What does that represent?” I asked to clarify. “If you don't mind sharing, I want to understand you better.” He swayed towards me slightly, his fingers flashing into the beginning of another brief symbol, but he stuttered and halted midway.

“This—” he said, and repeated the hand sign he’d made when he’d responded to Zee. “—is a form of… reassurance. I was letting Zee know that I wasn’t offended.” He lifted one shoulder in a small shrug. “I want to learn more about you as well.”

Okay… so that sounded… well, like he was speaking more to me directly, than referring to The Collective as a whole. I again felt a slight heating to my cheeks. He inclined his head and I got the feeling he was scrutinizing me intently. 

Zee hummed and looked over the table at the others. He noted Mountain watching him and squirmed a little in his seat. He turned back to Story. “Is there a history to the Occlusions?”

Story sat back and steepled his long fingers. His hands were wrapped in smoky colored smart fabric, the bands overlapping and clinging to his large hands. The tips of his fingers were all that showed, stained a deep grayish-blue. His nails had a slight pearlescent sheen. He looked off, and for a long moment, I was unsure if he would answer. He finally angled his masked face back toward Zee.

“It’s uncertain how much is fact and how much is legend,” he said, shrugging his one shoulder again. He shifted, spreading his long legs wider, his robe frothing and rippling along the edges. He wore large boots with multiple metal clasps running down them. There was something a little… performative about the Oclutos, I felt. Of course, this was likely all for our benefit, presenting in a way that fit the perceptions they suspected we had about them. 

“It’s said,” he continued, his voice taking on the tone of an orator, “that our founders left the Inner Rim, weary of the focus on outer beauty, to seek a deeper meaning and connection. They wished to focus on certain aspects of the human condition and the innate creativity of the human mind. So, they left what they considered the shallow and frivolous nature of human society to seek out deeper mysteries and push what it meant to be human, to connect with one another on a deeper, more… spiritual level.” 

“Sounds very lofty,” I said. He cut his face to me, the expression of his mask frustratingly unreadable, but he made another sigil and nodded.

Agreement? I tentatively tagged it.

“Sounds like it, hmm? Of course, we ended up as shallow and appearance-oriented as the rest of humanity, just in different ways.” 

I watched Mountain stir and make a quick cutting movement with his fingers, but Story just gave an amused huff. I carefully recorded every movement and cross-referenced the hand sigils in our known database. We didn't know most of them, but there was some intel. The one Mountain made came up essentially as ‘annoyed.’

“Your companion doesn't seem to agree,” Zee said thoughtfully. 

“I tend to be a bit more… irreverent than Mountain,” Story said, leaning in and speaking in a confidential tone. Mountain shook his head, his body language also expressing that annoyance. Story reached over and briefly rested a hand on the other man’s arm. Mountain relaxed and looked off, heaving a long-suffering sigh that made me chuckle. 

Story turned to me and again made that odd, bird-like head tilt. “I vex him,” he admitted, and I was fairly sure there was a slight smile in his tone. He settled back and grew quiet and watchful again. I took the opportunity while he turned his face to scan down the table, to observe him. 

The Oclutos ambassador was lanky. He held himself carefully. His frame had a slight tension that his casual words and manner did not fully obscure. His mask was a burnished matt nickel color, with runes and symbols etched deeply into it. The eyes reflected back my own distorted face when he turned and caught me staring. Again, I flushed lightly. He reached out suddenly with those long, stained fingers. I flinched and then stilled myself as he paused, his hand hovering by my face. I felt, more than saw, Mountain tense in my peripheral vision.

“May I?” Story asked, his voice low. I nodded shortly, unsure what he was doing. I felt my eyes flutter closed as he drew cool fingertips lightly over my hot cheek. I heard him take a faint, shuddering breath. I realized suddenly that he had probably never touched another person’s face before. “What is the significance of this… the coloring on your cheeks?” he asked. My eyes snapped open in surprise.

“I… it’s called blushing,” I managed and saw Zee look back and forth between Story and me, his eyebrows climbing. 

“Blushing,” Story murmured, like he was tasting the word. “Why are you… blushing?”

“Echo blushes a lot,” Zee was trying to come to my rescue. I shot him an appreciative look then sucked it up and turned back to the ambassador.

“When one is… anxious or embarrassed or sometimes excited, blood will rush to the face, particularly the cheeks, it causes a sensation of heat and shows visibly as a pink or reddish flush to the skin.”

“Hah!” Story drew himself up, seemingly excited. “I have felt this before.” He traced the jutting cheekbone of the mask with those long fingers. “Blushing, hmmm.” He seemed so fascinated to understand something he’d even experienced himself but never visually witnessed. I almost felt safe, until he suddenly stilled. 

“So, you felt… embarrassed?” he asked, his whole body again intent and focused on me. I groaned internally and felt my cheeks heat again. He made a low grunt and brushed his fingers over my skin again. 

Mountain muttered something in that fluid language of theirs and Story sat back, clasping his long fingers together, worrying and picking at the smart fabric wrapping them.

“Indeed, apologies. I am taking liberties.”

“It’s alright,” I sighed. “And yes, I have to admit, it’s a rare chance to be able to observe you… all of you,” I gestured carefully to encompass all of the Oclutos sitting at the table. 

“I’m afraid I was staring, which we consider rude. You turned and caught me doing so, hence…” I trailed off and gestured at my flushed cheeks. Story’s whole demeanor was one of facinated tension. He watched me for a long moment, then sat carefully back, spreading his legs a little more as he did so. I carefully kept my eyes on his mask.

“I… see,” he finally said cryptically. I glanced at Zee, who shrugged, nonplussed. Just then, our sitting administrator asked a question, and Story turned his attention to her. I sat back a little. My HUD in my lenses lit up in the corner with an incoming message. 

This is so weird, the message read when I blinked on it. It was Zee. I cut him a look. Messaging in front of them was considered rude, even though they didn’t know we were doing it. Zee rolled his eyes at me.

You know they are having whole convos in those masks with each other.

Okay, fair.

It’s going to be a long day, he complained. Zee was easily bored. He was too bright to be doing only one thing at a time. 

Why don’t you work on the—

Zee suddenly tensed at something Story had just said, and I spun in shock. “I’m sorry,” I said. “Could you repeat that?”

“We would like to have an… emissary from The Collective come to Oclutos. We wish to establish a closer relationship with one another. We feel it is time to forge stronger bonds among the children of humanity,” Story said easily, tipping his head back towards me.

“Okay, this is… news.” I shot a frantic message to the Administrator.

Did you know about this?

Not specifically, but they had floated the idea, she replied.

And no one told me because?

To be honest, we assumed it was just chatter. They’ve been so insular for so long…

I clamped my mouth to hold back the curse on the tip of my tongue. Zee was looking at me, his eyes huge. We both knew who would be the most likely person to be assigned to such a position. I gritted my teeth.

Story was watching me while the Administrator discussed the role with one of the other members of the Oclutos party. I schooled my expression. 

“I know Diplomat Echo will be honored, of course!” The Administrator was saying.

Dark Deep! I guess we’re going to Oclutos, I messaged Zee.