Chapter Text
You finally made it.
The white, sterile metallic walls of the corridors of Cyberdyne against your tanned skin and ratty army clothes makes you stick out like a sore thumb. You can practically see your reflection in the polished walls, and you can’t remember the last time you looked at yourself in the mirror. Your weathered army outfit hangs on your frame and it’s a couple sizes too big, but you don’t have the luxury of choice in the Resistance.
You’ve been running guns with the Tech-Com for years. You were born just a year before Judgement day, somehow lucky enough to survive the initial hit of the bombs and the devastation they brought. The irradiated deserts and destroyed cities are all you’ve known your entire life, growing up in this unforgiving hellscape of Man versus Machine, blood and tears against tortured metal. Your battle-worn skin is your testimony, and your arms are freckled from the sun shining ruthlessly on the death filled earth.
Hell, you have no idea if you should have even joined the Resistance at all. What difference does it make, if you’re fighting against Man’s worst creation, or struggling to live by yourself in the lonely barren lands? Your numbers are few and dwindling against this artificial Hydra. Between this and having to eat rats and cockroaches just so you can get by, you can’t really tell which one you prefer.
But you finally fucking made it. You’re alive and breathing and you almost can’t believe it that somehow your squad managed to find the time machines.
Here you are, standing in the speckless yet sickening warehouse of a Cyberdyne base that you had only ever heard rumors of. You and your crewmates travelled far and long to get here, with your arms caked in blood and dirt and your fingers charred black from ripping at machines and wires. Your squad is led by Commander Kyle Reese. He’s an apt leader, you give him that; he’s kept everyone alive and fed and with their hopes up about the whole operation, and you’d take any bit of hope you can find.
You feel sick to your stomach just from being here, from standing on the impossibly clean floors of this bunker. Your throat feels like sandpaper and broken glass and holy shit, the time machines are real, right in front of you. Your heartbeat thrums in your ears and you feel like you’ll crush under anxiety if you let it. A giant amalgamation of wire, steel and glass far too complex to be man-made sits in the middle of the room, with cables running from ceiling to floor.
“Get a move on, we don’t have much time!”
You come to your senses. Protect and serve Commander Reese. You might not have the best standing with your own crewmates, but you’ll be damned to let this operation fail.
You’ve survived this far, and you’re a stubborn motherfucker.
Reese zips past you and beelines towards the machine immediately. You push your anxiety aside and focus on your mission to send your squad commander back in time. No one knows jack shit about time travel, and it hasn’t even been long since you uncovered Skynet’s plans. Regardless, a small smirk appears on your lips at being able to beat Skynet at its own game. You’re just hoping the intel you got is correct and you don’t end up killing Reese by mistake.
You run up to the nearest console and plug your hacking equipment in. It’s a small keyboard salvaged from old technology found in the cities, with a small screen emitting barely enough light for you to figure out what the hell it’s displaying. You punch in your data and immediately get to work, trying to worm your way through the security and gaining control of the time machine.
Your commander walks by you and your heart warms as he gives you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. It’s his way of saying you’re doing a great job, recruit. The small gesture calms your anxiety and you firmly nod at him, and you immediately go back to working on the console with newfound vigor. You try to hurry up; it won’t take long for the H-Ks to find you. They always do.
“Come on, come on, come on!” You grit your teeth and wipe the sweat off of your brow with a bit more force than necessary. You raise your head to check your surroundings.
Your face heats up at an alarming rate the second you see Commander Reese, buck naked in front of you. He’s got a leg still stuck in his army overalls, and his sculpted body is smudged with soot. You don’t get to look for too long; he senses your stare, turns his head and locks eyes with you.
You cram your face into your hacking device immediately and curse.
“Cut it out,” He scoffs, “If the intel is anything to go by, this is part of the protocol.” There’s a bit of an edge to his words, like a sharpened knife threatening to slice your fingers if you play around with it for too long. You busy yourself with pushing the dials on the keyboard to break through the security perimeter.
Yeah, if the intel is anything to go by, the time machines can only send organic materials through. You really hope what you managed to acquire from Skynet’s databases are correct and you don’t end up blowing yourself and half the desert to high hell if you input a wrong code.
“Sir, yes Sir!” You say, a little too loudly, and your ears are warm to the touch.
You don’t get too much time to mull over what just happened as a bullet zings right past you and hits the metal walls behind you.
“Get down!” Reese’s yelling gets lost in more gunfire. You hide yourself behind the console, just barely able to protect your body from the barrage of bullets. You peek behind you from your place.
In the distance, just by the entrance, a pair of red dots stare into your direction and cold fear spreads through you like poison in your blood.
The Terminator units are here.
You curse again. If those chrome bastards got here it means none of your squad made it alive. The rest of your crew were holding ground outside of the lab, on the lookout for an ambush while you and Reese made it inside.
You come to the terrifying conclusion that the two of you might as well be all that are left from your original team of twenty.
You bite hard on your lower lip and force that thought away for the moment. Kyle Reese must make it to the other side, and you’ll make sure it happens.
Your console suddenly beeps; you’ve broken through Skynet’s security shell. Some distant cries are heard before they’re abruptly cut off, and you bite harder on your lip to stop yourself from thinking about your crewmates.
You spot Reese taking refuge at the base of the time machine, the metal plates providing enough cover for him to not get hit.
“I need to go now!” Reese screams. “Set the coordinates!”
You think of a plan.
“Kyle, take cover!” You yell as you reach for a pipe bomb strapped to your overalls. You light it and throw it over the console, aiming at some support beams close to the Terminator units.
Your lungs are filled with smoke and dust and your ears ring as the bomb goes off in the distance. You shield your head with your arms while chunks of debris pelt you. Part of the support beams collapse just as you had hoped and they effectively block the path of the H-Ks, buying you some time, but not for long.
You input the date on the time machine, fiddling with the dials and wishing for the best. “Go for it!” You scream, and Reese runs up to the center of the machine. You lock eyes with him, your heart beating wildly in your chest. You take a shaky breath. He nods at you firmly, and you just fucking hope this thing works and you don’t end up hurting him.
You push the dial. It takes less than a second, and he’s gone.
What’s left is just smoke and the smell of ozone filling your lungs that makes you scrunch up your nose. Shit, you really hope he makes it out alive. You really have no way of telling, and that makes your stomach churn.
Sparks rain down onto your form as the Terminators shoot at you again from behind the debris blocking their path, barely missing you. The bullets lodge themselves into the machinery and you yell as you jump back. You take cover again.
Your mind is racing and your feel sand in your throat and eyes, and you’re so fucking tired. You frantically try to find a way out of this hellhole alive. There’s no visible way out, unless you want to go head to head with the agents of death.
Even if you make it out of this base, there’s no guarantee that you won’t get hunted down by Skynet the second you set foot back on the desert.
You look at the time machine, and fuck, you’ll take your chances.
You swallow, trying to ignore the pit in your stomach that’s making your legs weak.
You hadn’t thought about it before, not until now. But now that you’re finally here, standing in front of it, you can’t ignore the possibilities.
The promise of a better life sits in front of you, in the past, when the bombs haven’t fallen yet and you’re free to live as you wish. A life spent without having to fight daily to survive, hiding in holes and sewers like animals. A chance to live in a world you’ve only heard stories about, a world too good to be true.
You’re tired, so fucking tired.
With that, you decide your fate.
The console starts beeping as you trigger the self-destruct. You don’t want anyone following you back.
You don’t want anything to mess this up.
You run up to the machine, your legs threatening to give out under the stress. You immediately peel off your overalls and throw them to the ground.
The countdown rings in your ears.
More bullets zing past you and hit the machine, and for a moment you’re terrified that this won’t work.
It’s too late to go back now.
You take in your surroundings, looking at the metal chassis of the H-Ks digging through the debris, looking at you with their unwavering stare. You think about the desert, the destruction and despair, the people living underground and in tunnels like rats and roaches, and the highways of death you traversed to get here.
None of that matters anymore.
A blue light engulfs you and heat washes over your body, and you feel electricity zapping through every particle of your being.
The vast nothingness takes over your vision.
You are gone in time.