The Necromancer retracted the last of her lustrous tresses, leaving a faint ache at the base of the bandaged soldier's neck. And an even deeper affliction on the valves of his heart.
Demanding active efforts to keep these locked memories hidden, this sudden oneiric resurgence sent a devious shiver through him, exploring every inch of his otherwise stable frame.
Mute's breathing collapsed into anarchy. He was still suffering from his new respiratory reality after his throat, mouth and sinuses got scorched, all the while his lips were held hostage behind layers of damp bandages. And now he could barely soothe his traumatized lungs.
"Oh. Oh, no I-, I'm sorry. Are you ok?"
Wig instinctively approached him, unconsciously breaking through her oppressive social awkwardness. The subtle warmth of her hand spread across Mute's quivering shoulder. While his enhanced sense of touch could easily read her reassuring pressure, his mind could not register her presence for a while.
"Hey, hey. You're ok. You're ok."
Her muffled voice was slowly reaching the brain she had recently taken a peek into.
"Take a deep breath."
The seemingly lethal squeeze clutching Mute's heart and crushing his diaphragm slowly released its spectral grasp.
"That's it. You're doing great."
He waited a few seconds after he controlled his breathing before making any assessment that he was fully okay, avoiding any premature and fallacious prognosis. He straightened back up, now towering over the Lieutenant again.
"Is everything ok? I-I didn't mean to…"
Worried Wig, with her shaky voice. The soldier had no physical response.
"I thought I- it would help you. I- I didn't think it would…"
Mute faintly raised his hand, trying to gesture to her that it was fine.
"Ok. W- well, I don't know if I'm just going to make things worse. Again. But… You're not weak. At least I don't think you are. I just thought you should know. I know I- I would like to know. I- If someone thought that I… You know…"
Thank you
He awkwardly tried to touch her shoulder, as her eyes couldn't drift away from the tiled floor. However, he failed to make contact with her. And she failed to notice his attempt. Unable to communicate his thoughts yet again. And not because he can't talk. He never could communicate. Even before.
"I'm sorry I made you do this. T- This was a mistake. I'll just go."
Just like that, she hurried through the dark hallway, ashamed, convinced that her helping hand caused more harm than anything else. He could only watch her walk away.
He always did. Watched. Never speaking up. Never opening up. Never stepping up. Always regretting.
Not this time.
Wig was about to turn at the end of the corridor when her eyes met a pair of heavy boots. Startled, she jumped back a little. Mute was standing before her. She was dumbfounded at how quickly and stealthily he could move past her, looking at him with confusion, failing to decipher any signs from his bandaged figure.
A gesture so simple. So insignificant. Yet, it was the biggest risk he ever took. It demanded of him every last bit of courage he could muster.
No longer would he leave things be. No longer would he stay invisible. No longer would he be misunderstood. No longer would he keep to himself. No longer would he let his social anxiety crush him.
And just like that, he bowed.
"..."
"..."
"I- I don't- Wha-"
He bowed again, showing his deepest appreciation for her earnest help.
"Oh. O-ok. You're… welcome?"
Satisfied with this interaction, he stepped away from her, giving her room to proceed with her exit. She took a couple of steps, looking up at him, as if making sure she was following what he wanted her to do, and she walked away. He listened to her leave, noticing the subtle changes in her steps.
The guttural pain of getting thrown back into his past was confronted with a brighter future. A future of self-conviction.
*****
"What the fuck."
Rouge walked in on something. That was all she could gather. Something. The gory scenery was too graphic to give her time to process what she was looking at. Something, had happened here.
At the scene, Venom. Probably unconscious. Hopefully not dead. Dozens of mutilated Hollow corpses. Probably dead. Hopefully not unconscious
The young intruder dropped the heavy box she carried on her way here as soon as she could focus again. She then hurried to the fallen Commander and tried to wake her up.
Having her hands on the woman's body, she rapidly worried about its missing warmth. And lack of movement. Rouge wasted no time and mustered her energy.
The anxiety of the situation and the stress of the environment fortuitously helped sour her blood, adding to the toxicity of the ammonia sleeping in her veins.
The mixture was getting high in concentration, rapidly approaching lethal levels. Luckily, as soon as she cut her heavily scarred palm and the red fluid started seeping, the putrid odour punched Venom directly in her entrails.
The shock therapy awakened her quite easily, to Rouge's relief. She, however, had to let her wound bleed out still, waiting for her toxic mixture to leave her bloodstream.
"What happened here?"
The Mad Scientist was still coughing and retching when she heard an intrusive voice hit her sensitive eardrums.
"What? Who- … Fuck."
*****
"So?"
"Is it too tight?"
"I asked you a question."
"Me too."
Venom, tightly but tenderly, finished tying the fabric around Rouge's hand.
"It's fine. Thanks."
"I should start by thanking you."
"Yeah, well. You should start by answering me. The fuck is all that?"
It was worse than she initially thought. Dozens of torn-up corpses were sprayed strangely methodically around the shelter.
"Yeah, well. It was all for nothing, so."
"Why? What did you try?"
"Nothing important."
"Stop lying."
"Rouge. Sorry. I'm not… Lying. It's just."
"I know."
The young soldier stood from her stool and grabbed the heavy wooden box.
"That's why I came here in the first place."
She nervously placed the sacred artifact on the table between them, after almost anxiously dropping it off the edge.
"What's this?"
"This.. Hm.."
The Commander felt a disturbance in her pupil's behaviour. The bathed breath. The tremors in her fingers. The anxious tears pearling in her eyes. Was it her torture-induced medical training or her affection for the young woman that allowed her this level of discernment; that she could not tell. What she could tell, however, was that Rouge was terrified.
"Hey, hey. You're okay. What's wrong?"
"N- no. It's fine. I need to do this."
She took a deep breath. She reached for the key resting in its eternal slumber at the end of her necklace. She found in its touch a certain comfort, as she reached for it countless times since her mother tied it around her neck. But now, it was the first time it was used for its intended purpose.
The slight rust on the key pushed against the dust inside the lock's mechanisms. With an effortless twist of her wrist, it opened. It was that easy. Something so crucial yet so accessible. She opened the chest.
"Stop. Right now."
"What?"
"Fucking hell."
The Mad Scientist got a glimpse of the box; it was enough to send all of Pandora's torment her way. There was no coming back now. She was in on it.
"Why- How? Rouge. I'm serious. How did you get that?"
"M-My mom."
"Your.. Your mom. Great. That doesn't explain thi-... Holy shit."
"Well, it's true. She gave me-"
"Just. Hold on. I- Ok, ok. I know. I understand. I'm sorry. That's not- who knows about this?"
"My mother. Now you."
"Only us? You're sure?"
"That I know of, yes."
"If he finds out about this…"
"He hasn't yet."
"We can't be sure of that."
"We can. I'm still alive."
"..."
"You said you don't know if this place is safe. We'll know now."
"Hell of a risk to take."
"I'm willing to."
"And you're forcing me into it?"
"I figured you would…"
"... Right."
Venom's pulse was imploding in her still feeble veins. She stared at the inside of the box; books. She trembled.
"Ok. You know about the alphabet?"
"Yes."
"You know how to read?"
"Yes."
"You know about numbers?"
"Yes."
"You know how to count?"
"Yes."
"And no one figured that out?"
"They can't figure out something they don't even know exists."
"What have you read about?"
"Enough."
"With these?"
"There's more. They're hidden. Those are my notebooks. I summarized everything I've ever read about. Fewer proofs. Easier to carry."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"It's been stale for too long. Something needs to happen. I can help make it happen."
Rouge summoned fear into her.
"Make what happen, Rouge?"
"I'm the one who's been lying. I know what you're trying to make. And I know I'm the key to it. I'll help you achieve your work."
*****
"Well, that sure is new, huh?"
"Sorry."
"It was my fault."
"Oh, I'm sure it was haha. I don't give a shit, though."
"Huh?"
The quick change in his demeanour surprised them– even Wig, who worked with him for a while. Gale wasn't famous for his strict governance; his laid-back attitude earned him quite a likable reputation amongst recruits. But he is also dutiful. And professional. Punctuality is a matter of respect.
"Where were you?"
"Nowhere."
Nuke was traversed by a newborn wind, backed by a fresh sense of purpose. It only inflated her swelling arrogance.
"Right. We're already late because of you. I'm not doing this, fellas. The chains on your blades are brand new, and Box's got a utility belt on. What is that, a fanny pack?"
"And? The fuck does that have to do with you?"
"It has that we were supposed to leave a while ago. And if I learn our targets killed some of our men out there because you guys fucked around-"
"Alright then, let's just go-"
"I'm not done."
"G- Gale it's ok-"
"Wig. I'm sorry. You have as much say as I do on this team. I understand. But right now. Oh boy. I'm doing this."
"You just said we can't waste more ti-"
"This is on you. Nuke. This is serious. I've lost a lot of comrades to this shit. And I am your superior."
"Not anymore."
She whispered it. He heard it. As if she had shouted it. He tamed the air around him a long time ago.
"What."
"Hm?"
"Who is it then?
"What are you talkin-"
"Who."
"... Mob."
"Box, shut the fuck up."
"Ah. Okay. I see. Do what you want. Wig? Let's go."
He turned and walked away.
"R-Right. Ok team. The squad is complete. We're moving. … Hm. Kage. Are you still with us or..."
"Yes."
"You serious?"
Nuke thought she had a better grip on her boys.
"The mission was already planned with us in the team. No matter what we do next, I'm not going to let the integrity of this mission falter."
"Good."
"Cocksucke-"
"I'm still the strategist. And you guys are coming. Box. You go in front with Flow."
"Really, man?"
"And I want Gum and Nuke covering our rear. Ok, after that-"
*****
"See, big guy? It wasn't that bad?"
"Sure, Lunchbox. But now, you're on your own, huh?. This is it, right? No longer on the team?"
The Torrent heavily stomped his huge metal tank, its sole bloodied from the numerous bodies it crushed.
"Yep."
"Great. I'm sure Doc will be thrilled."
"The fuck is that supposed to mean?"
Nuke didn't notice her hands reached for the handles of her blades on her back. The Commander sure did.
"Look at you guys. You come here bragging, and now you're scared. Can't back down now. You wanted Mob's protection? You got it. You wanted Mob's cool toys? You got it. You can't only pick up the good and leave the bad out."
"You're right. Fuck Doc."
"Oh wow. Ok, lady. We got that part."
"And you guys. You should join us, too."
"Nuke. It's not that simple."
Flow sighed.
"But it is. We've talked about this before. We wanted to take him down. But we didn't have the means. Mob does. And if you help us-"
"That man has got to be good. You just started working for him, and you guys are already recruiting on his behalf."
"It's not that we don't want to take Doc down. It's just…"
"What is it, Bass?"
The muffled grumbles still carried through weariness.
"We heard, you know. You guys failed. You fought with some of the dons?"
"Frostbite. Yes."
"He clearly would've helped you take him down if he wanted to. But he didn't. It's more complicated than you think."
"The dude's a dumbass so he wouldn't know, but I'm sure Mob's got a plan. He had his reasons to have him stop us then. We just have to wait."
"And I'm sure it means using you."
Gum spoke her share.
"You think I'm dumb?"
"No. I think Mob is smart. Too smart. Even if he claims to go against him… He could be working for Doc."
"How would you know?"
"I don't. But I can't be sure that he doesn't either now, can I?"
"You guys all suck. Let's go, Nuke. Kage?"
"You right, Box. We can't help the-"
Lunchbox's right leg splattered against the rocky wall. Immediately, gusts of wind strong enough to rival those of a tornado spontaneously spawned. Slick noir tentacles still forcefully slithered through this hurricane.
In the blink of an eye, all the soldiers were safely pulled away and thrown into a bundle in the back of the cavern. The Commanders, however, did not falter.
"Gum, stop the bleeding. Wig, I need you with me on offence and handle defence at the same time. Think you can make it work?"
"Yes."
"Sorry to ask that much. But this thing is..."
Gale could not even distinguish its features. It had no apparent figure. No clear limbs. Just a lump. An entity. A threat.
In the back lines, Gum quickly mended Lunchbox's severed limb with his overflowing sebum. Now with more practice, he had no issue using the right amount and successfully disengaged without being stuck to his comrade.
"You guys okay back there?"
"Yes sir."
"Good. I need Bass and Nuke with me. We'll attack at a distance before I send any of our brawlers to get in close."
"Need me to stun it?"
"We've got to try."
Everyone cupped their ears. While they slowly grew accustomed to it, they still couldn't fully negate Bass' power. However, the upside is too great to subjugate her. With a subtle twist of her fingers, she worked the corks on the mussel imprisoning her and produced a deafening roar.
The reverberation knocked some of her comrades down to their knees, but it seemed to have affected its intended target. The thing's feeble form crumbled, almost completely forcing it into an organic puddle. The scream stopped when she reached her limit, blood staining the steel of her man-made jaw.
"It seems weak, Nuke blow it u-"
Gale's orders were belated; beaten by the ripple of chains flying through the tunnels. As the blades simultaneously crashed into the organism, a flare of flames crashed into the ceiling.
Sweat pearled on the Torrent's forehead, brushed by a sudden burst of heat and a reminiscent flash of guilt. No time to be thinking about this now. The smoke dissipated, revealing an unbothered amalgam of flesh.
"The fuck?"
Torpedoes grazed Gale's ears as he cursed out his surprise. Wig's two strands of hair rapidly coursed through the entire area, reaching for the enemy, only to grasp air. Instinctively, the blob morphed and slithered around the cave, swiftly avoiding the lassos chasing it down.
"Wig, brace yourself."
In an attempt to slow their target down, the Torrent charged up his lungs and unleashed a ferocious wall of gusts. Despite the force of the storm, the Necromancer was used to navigating her locks through Gale's power. In a blink, she grabbed hold of the struggling Hollow.
"Go!"
Her voice left no room for doubt. Flow blitzed the front line and entered the fray alongside Nuke. Certain their target was secured, the Torrent dropped his ability, allowing the brawlers to get in. However, the creature split in half and slipped through Wig's grip.
Instinctively, the two warriors each targeted one part. Nuke freely unleashed her newly sharpened blades, swirling and throwing her chains around in a fit of somewhat controlled rage, destroying walls and pillars on her way, yet still failing to even touch the slippery foe.
Opposing her, Flow was having a similar experience. Strangely similar to each other, the soldier and the severed Hollow were dancing through the battlefield, flexibly bending in previously unheard ways, failing to make any progress.
"Kage, you got something for me?"
The Torrent instinctively leaned on his strategist in the hope of breaking through this impasse.
"Hmm. Blister could be our trump card. Maybe."
"Blister?"
"Yes! Well, best I can do right now is poison it or put it to sleep. Suppose anything would even work on it. Either way, I don't know how I'd manage that without affecting our side too."
"It's too much of a gamble to expect poison to work on that thing. So is dozing it. But even if it doesn't fully put it to rest, slowing it down would…"
"But we'd have to draw back Nuke and Flow."
"We can't afford that."
The frontliners were slowly losing the stamina battle. Flow's moves weren't as smooth. Nuke's attacks were slower. But they had to keep these unpredictable monsters at bay. No matter what.
"I've got a way."
Gale's reliability will have to come in clutch.
"Here, this guy's empty."
The large Commander hurled one of his metallic tanks at Blister.
"Fill it up."
"How? I can just, like, emit fumes out of my skin; I can't, like-"
"Figure it out. Now."
The Commander was not trying to be harsh. He was plainly correct. And she knew it. Yet, she still shuddered under the pressure.
"Nuke watch out-!"
Wig's hair pulled the fighter out of harm's way. Knowing her strands only sink within the oozing fiends, she had no control over them directly.
Noticing their assailants slowing down, their breaths staggering, the Hollows began their counterattack. While appearing unthreatening, it felt all the more ominous.
The slops were slowly reaching, extending their body, trying to absorb the soldiers.
"Fuck. We can't attack them, but we can't let them get close?"
"Wig, they'll get caught. You need to take over."
"Right."
The Necromancer firmly, yet gently, enrobed her subordinate with the everlasting silk of her scalp. Moved by countless battles' worth of experience, she simultaneously moved all of their limbs flawlessly.
Completely taken by surprise, the two brawlers seemed to have completely forgotten how to work their own bodies. Since Wig's poise on them was clinical, they rapidly adapted and caught up on her approach. She would keep them safe, and they would attack.
Now free of the mental load of getting hurt, Nuke and Flow went all out, their fists and blades freely flowing in the damp cavern. Wig was perfectly keeping her new tools out of danger, pulling them back and twisting them safely out of any danger. This push-and-pull puppet dance succeeded in pushing back the front line, keeping their edge in this battle. In the meantime, Blister was losing hers.
She couldn't come up with a way to control the flow of the fumes seeping out of her body. Yet this was also the most favourable condition to do so: desperation.
Completely backed up, she wasn't asked to find a way to do it. She had to.
The iron cistern, nearly twice her size, cast a shadow over her trembling figure, weighing her shoulder. Kneeling before it, her sweaty forehead was slowly slipping down its smooth cast.
With all of her might, she was trying to get the vapours around her to listen to her, her hands guiding them towards the open slit. Yet they failed to answer.
The momentum of this continuous failure brought her to her breaking point, ready to give up. Give up on all her teammates. That's when she felt a tender but strong palm press against her back. A peaceful and refreshing breeze enveloped her, coursing along her skin, bringing with it the loaded smog.
"You got this."
Gale, with his little push, aided the struggling soldier. They synergized their powers and timed their approach, steadily forcing the thin smoke within the cold confinement of Gale's tank. It still wasn't full. But after giving all she could, that had to do.
The lieutenant brushed his hand up her back to her shoulder, pressing it fondly.
"You did good."
He strongly closed the valve and effortlessly lifted the recipient with one hand. Blister, exhausted, lost her balance and fell forward to her hands. Trying to steady her respiration, drops of sweat soaked the dirt.
"Wig?"
"Yes. Everyone be ready to hold your breath."
Wig's soft strands wrapped around the gas tank and rapidly brought it amongst the fray. Meticulously, the tips of her hair loosened the valve, allowing the fumes to escape.
"We don't have time for this."
"Nuke's right. Blow it up."
The Torrent gave his approval, and Nuke's blades followed promptly. The chains flew in the opposite direction Wig was pulling her and Flow. The sharp edges bearing her loaded sebum crashed against the metallic frame of the smog bomb, and a loud explosion followed suit.
"This better fucking work."
The sleeping cloud rapidly dissipated through the rocky lair, enveloping the two entities.
Nothing.
This short wait seemed to have stopped time. Then, something. The Hollows uncontrollably quaked through the smoke. In the hope of escaping its intoxicating grasp, they randomly morphed and exponentially spread and split apart. However quickly these new smaller bodies were able to gain on their escape, their natural instinctive plan backfired.
Now smaller, they were more frail and more vulnerable to ailment. They promptly froze. If they were truly asleep, no one could tell. However, no one cared.
"Still got some gas in the tank?"
"Shut up."
Nuke didn't take Gale's bait. After all her wasteful efforts, frustration had pent up; she was able to unleash it. Seamlessly, she walked forward, phasing through the heavy locks of hair falling at her feet. Unleashing her.
The sharp tips of her curved blades dragged through the earthy floor; a sharp gust of wind traversed her, breaking off the reminiscing oniric cloud. She rolled her shoulders and cracked her neck, testing their soreness, feeding on their ache.
With an enraged wail, she cracked her chains and swung away her anger. The maelstrom spawned of her own livid anguish lasted but a moment. However, it wasn't any less destructive for it. The rocky walls showed their flesh, their surface scorched; the Hollows vanished.
It took a toll on her, more than she would admit. How good a liar she was would not have mattered; the handles broke free of her depleted grip. She took a knee when a sudden flash of dizziness ate away at her eyes.
The thumping in her ears perfectly muffled the heavy steps of her lieutenant; his words, however, found her.
"Your strength is undeniable. Nobody is questioning it. Not even me. You could make good use of it. We could. But you're angry. Rightfully so. But you're pointing it at the wrong targets. The choice is yours. I just really hope Mob is everything he pretends to be. For your sake. And ours. I just know I'm not going to go find that out on my own."
She was heaving. Her breath wavered, but she couldn't tell if her heart did.