CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Tears of Pain

Marcus climbed through the kitchen window, stepping back to gaze at the building for a moment. He slid his hand into his pocket, fingers brushing the sharp edges of his mother’s old mug—each ceramic shard a piece of a treasured memory now.

‘I’ll fix it up for you, Mom,’ he thought, gently patting the shards in his pocket. With a heavy heart, he left the house behind, making his way back into town, wondering how he could mend things with his brother.

He walked past familiar houses, trying to recall who used to live there, occasionally peeking through windows to see the decay within. Some doors showed signs of forced entry, making him think that those homes had been looted at one point. He passed a worn-out garage where his father used to take the family car for repairs. Dusty tools lay scattered around, and a moss-covered car bridge screamed of years of neglect. He shook his head and continued into town, pausing only when he caught sight of his dad’s old gym standing in the distance.

‘Wait... that old place is still standing?’ he thought, a soft smile lifting his spirits. He broke into a light jog, eager to reach it.

He stopped in front of the building, noting a few broken windows and overgrown vegetation. Despite it, the building seemed to be in decent condition.

“Naturally, this place survived. Stubborn old thing,” he muttered. Finding the front door locked, he shrugged and slipped through one of the broken windows, taking care to avoid the jagged glass.

As he stepped inside his father’s gym, broken glass crunched underfoot, the sound echoing in the silence. For a moment, it felt like a scene from a horror film, but nothing followed. The place looked unchanged, except for thirteen years of dust and filth covering everything. Most of the equipment still stood in its original positions, now covered in rust. The workout mats, however, had either rotted away or become coated in mold.

Marcus walked along the walls, fingers tracing lines across the dirty surface, marking his path as he went. Occasionally, he paused to wipe dust from framed pictures, revealing the faded images beneath. A smile spread across his face when he came across a photo of his family and his uncle from years ago, back when his father had opened the gym.

In the picture, his little sister grinned widely, several baby teeth missing, giving her a mischievous look. Next to her, his baby brother rested in their mother’s arms. The sight tugged at his heart, making him remember the scratch marks in the floor of their house. In the back, he saw his uncle and father, both still young and fit, especially his uncle, a stark contrast to his current state.

Marcus’s gaze narrowed as he studied the tattooed notches on his uncle and father’s right arms, each one representing an official kickboxing match that they had won. With care, he gently removed the picture from the wall, pressing it softly against his chest and supporting it with both hands.

‘The place doesn’t look looted,’ Marcus observed a while later as he continued to walk around. He spotted the reception desk and noticed that one of the registers had been smashed apart. ‘Well, not fully, anyway.’ It made sense to him, considering there wasn’t anything valuable in the gym except the cash that had been there that day. ‘That must’ve happened years ago, seeing as we’ve switched to credits now.’

He approached the drink station, now a foul-smelling, moldy mess that had spread everywhere.

‘That thing looks scarier than most monsters I've fought.’ Passing that spot, he entered his father’s office in the back. Dust blanketed the furniture, desk, and cabinets, while cobwebs draped every corner, giving the office a truly abandoned look. He looked around, touching worn posters that crumbled at his touch like fading memories.

‘This place always felt more like home to me,’ he thought, staring at his father’s desk. He recalled the dozens of talks they’d had there whenever he got into trouble for fighting. ‘Only fitting that this place is still like I remember.’

Leaving the office, Marcus headed for a side door that led to the basement. The space served as both a storage area and a dojo where his uncle had taught judo and wrestling most evenings. He jiggled the door, but it remained stubbornly locked. With a frustrated grunt, he delivered a swift kick, breaking the lock and swinging the door open. Cobwebs draped everywhere down there, resulting in much of it eventually clinging to his hair and clothes despite his efforts of trying to tear it apart with his hands.

After clearing away most of the cobwebs, he could finally move freely. The large room, surprisingly, was in relatively good condition. He noticed moldy mats covering the floor, toppled storage shelves, and a thick layer of dust. He imagined how much bigger the space would feel without all the clutter, especially since the basement was nearly half the size of the gym upstairs. Some walls showed signs of damage, with him spotting broken bits of stone on the ground.

He walked over to a nearby wall and pried at a brick that jutted out, loosening it after a few seconds of wiggling. He inspected the brick, then slid it back into place, patting the wall like one would do a family pet.

“You did well staying together, old gal. Dad would’ve been proud,” he muttered.

A second later, Marcus froze when he heard something upstairs. He held his breath, straining to listen as the sound grew into something like buzzing, only to be replaced with footsteps a minute later. Dust drifted from the ceiling as footsteps paced above him, followed by a heavy thud.

‘Police?’ Marcus thought as he felt his hands ball into fists at the idea. ‘Not this again.’ His mind quickly went back to the memory of him, Sebastian and Benedict sitting in front of the detective, after they had been caught inside of a Sphere. He slowly crouched down, gently placing the picture of his family on the ground to keep it safe in case he needed to bolt out of the gym in a hurry.

Soon, the footsteps upstairs receded until he could no longer hear them. In response, he snuck out of the basement as quietly as he could, creeping up the stairs to the ground floor. He scanned the gym after emerging from the basement, finding nothing unusual except a fallen weight rack.

‘Should I head out through dad’s office? Open a window there?’ He noticed a few footsteps in the dust but struggled to determine whether they were his own or belonged to someone else, or multiple people. Just as he was about to head to his dad’s office, he heard buzzing noises outside.

‘This is stupid,’ he thought as he crept toward the front door, peeking through a broken window frame. He spotted someone near a house a short distance away from the gym—a small, hooded figure holding a phone. The buzzing he’d been hearing grew louder until a drone zipped out from a broken window. It whirred through the air and landed neatly in front of the figure. He watched the person grab it before stuffing it into a backpack. A moment later, the figure pulled out a crowbar, wedging it into the doorframe and starting to pry it loose.

‘A looter?’ Marcus wondered as he watched the figure struggle with the crowbar. ‘Doesn’t look like a Marked individual,’ he noted, observing the time it took the person to pry the door open. ‘Just civilian?’ After double-checking his Mana levels and how much he had regained, Marcus slowly took a few steps towards the figure before speaking up.

“Hey there,” he called out, instantly watching the figure drop the crowbar and jump up as if burned by it, then quickly looked around before spotting him standing there.

“What are you doing there?” Marcus asked, but the figure suddenly ran away from him. Not sure why, he followed after the individual, mostly out of sheer instinct.

As Marcus chased the hooded figure through his ruined hometown, he quickly found out that he was a lot faster than the looter, closing the distance with every stride. He watched as the figure darted through the debris, causing him to occasionally lose sight as the individual slid through smaller holes between caved-in sections of ruined buildings or ducked through houses and out of backdoors, throwing the doors shut afterwards.

He quickly learned that this person clearly knew the layout of the looted houses well, using every advantage to evade him. Marcus gritted his teeth, frustration bubbling up as he rounded corners and saw the figure dashing ahead and rounding another corner, intent on losing him once more. With irritation fueling his steps, he pushed himself harder, his muscles burning with exertion, refusing to let the hooded figure slip away again.

As Marcus himself reached the corner, he could see the figure slide through a small gap in a nearby fence.

‘Overdrive’

Marcus suddenly shot forward, propelled by the remaining Mana rushing through his body. His muscles surged with raw power in a violent acceleration as he jumped toward the nearest wall. Using it as a platform, he propelled himself up and over the fence with tremendous force, landing on the other side with a sliding skid across the ground. He spun around and spotted the figure just emerging through the fence, eyes widening at the sight of Marcus’s sudden appearance and the light blue mist of Mana bleeding out from his body before the looter turned around to crawl through the fence again.

Marcus dashed forward, grabbing the person by the ankle and yanking them out. Seconds later, he grabbed the figure by the jacket and pinned them against a nearby wall.

“Stop with all the running!” Marcus barked, his expression narrowing as he finally saw the figure up close. She was a young woman, barely sixteen or seventeen. Fear flickered in her eyes as the last remnants of the blue mist surrounding him finally dissipated.

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“Don’t kill me, please,” the girl begged, her hands trembling as she raised them in a plea for mercy.

Marcus shook his head and let her go, staying close enough to stop any escape. “Relax, I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, pulling back her hood to reveal short brown hair and pale skin. “Why did you run away from me?”

The girl paused for a moment, catching her breath, her eyes reflecting a whirlwind of emotions. “Just let me go,” she pleaded.

“Answer the question,” Marcus demanded, observing her disheveled appearance and seeing the backpack strapped to her.

“Buddy, have you seen yourself?” she snapped, pointing at the black streaks on Marcus’s face. “Creepy bloke suddenly appears right behind me in a ruined town, covered in those Marks. Who wouldn’t run?”

Marcus raised an eyebrow and took a step back. “You shouldn’t be here. What were you doing?”

She gave him a once-over, her dull brown eyes still lingering on the Marks across his body. “I don’t see a badge on you. I could ask you the same question,” she said defiantly, seemingly determined not to be intimidated by him, but her voice faltered a little.

Marcus sighed and extended his hand. “Enough. Give me your bag,” he ordered, waiting for her to comply. She shook her head, clutching the straps tighter.

“Now!”

When she froze, Marcus simply grabbed the bag and wrestled it off her shoulders, despite her struggling to hold on to it. Once he had the bag, Marcus unzipped it and peeked inside. Inside, he found a collection of watches, silverware, a gold money clip, expensive-looking bottles, and several rings. He also pulled out a flashlight, the drone she had flown, a bottle of water, and some candy bars. Marcus didn’t need to be a detective to know that it was all clearly looted, judging by the way the girl looked at him as he sifted through the bag. He then zipped it up and opened the other pouch, finding her wallet and a small makeup bag.

As he was about to put it back, he noticed her holding her breath, as if something was off. Opening the makeup bag, he found several pieces of Glass.

“Care to explain?”

“I don’t know how that got there,” she said nervously as she watched Marcus shake the bag filled with Monster-Glass pieces. “Honestly.”

“Right, and I’m secretly the Easter bunny,” Marcus countered, zipping the bag after counting all nine Glass pieces. He couldn’t help but notice the similarity to the time Benedict and his brother had ambushed him, though this time, the roles were reversed.

“That would explain the buckteeth and ugly ears,” she muttered defiantly, pressing herself tighter against the wall when Marcus glared at her. “I’m just trying to make an honest living here.” She quickly added, “semi-honest,” when Marcus continued to stare at her.

“I take it you sell this stuff to a pawnshop?” Marcus asked while holding out her backpack, watching her nervously nod before he shook the makeup bag with the Glass. “What about this?”

“I sell it,” she said softly.

Marcus stuffed the makeup bag into her backpack before speaking up. “Where? At the pawnshop?”

“No, I don’t sell Glass to a pawnshop. I’m not daft.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Marcus said, suppressing a grin when he watched her give him the middle finger before she even knew it. She quickly slid her hands in her pockets again as her face paled. “Who do you sell the Glass to?”

She paused for a long time, avoiding eye contact before she reluctantly spoke up. “Collectors, brokers, and... Breachers.”

“Why?” Marcus asked as he studied her again, noticing her thin frame and dirty appearance. “Why would Breachers want to buy the Glass off you? And shouldn’t you be in school?”

She suddenly looked up, glaring defiantly at him, as if his questions had just now crossed a line. “Motherfucker, do I look like I’m dictating my autobiography?” she spat venomously.

“You’ve got a foul mouth on you. Anyone ever told you that?” Marcus asked the girl, who just stared back at him. “Alright, be that way,” he said, grabbing her shoulder and dragging her along. “This place isn’t safe. Let’s get you out of here while I call—”

He stopped when a strange sound pierced the air, followed by the ground trembling beneath their feet. Dust and debris suddenly shot towards them in a violent tempest. He quickly pulled the girl tight against him, shielding her from the storm of dust as he kept his back towards it. Bits of debris hit nearby houses and occasionally pelted him, but luckily, he avoided taking too much damage.

When the dust settled, Marcus let go of the girl and turned around, spotting a massive blue Sphere in the distance.

“What the hell?” he muttered as he watched the Sphere expand more and more until it stopped moving and stabilized. “I was just there... not half an hour ago.”

“It happens a lot in Dead zones,” the girl spoke up behind him. “Sometimes once a year, other times several times a month, usually blue… sometimes red. You don’t want to be inside a red one when it forms.”

“We should go,” Marcus muttered, stepping back. His mind split in two directions: one urging him to call Bastion and Specter to clear the blue Sphere in front of him without government oversight, the other reminding him of his duty to protect others. “We need to get you someplace safe.”

He turned around and saw her holding two cans of pepper spray. Without hesitation, she sprayed him in the face with both of them at the same time.

“Why?” Marcus yelled, the stinging substance quickly burning his eyes and orifices, forcing him to clutch his face with his right hand in a futile attempt to wipe it away. While he was suffering, the woman rushed forward, pulling on the backpack that Marcus was still holding onto. He just gripped it tighter and pulled the bag closer towards him, remembering that he had seen a bottle of water inside of it.

In response, the girl then delivered a knee to his groin in a last attempt to make him drop the bag. Cursing, Marcus doubled over and fell to his knees, struggling to breathe through the chemical burn on his face and the agonizing pain in his groin. He felt her yank at the backpack several times before she bolted, leaving him on his knees, groaning in agony.

After the attack, Marcus remained knelt over for a little while longer until the discomfort in his face and eyes became unbearable. He forced himself to sit and not wipe at the liquid on his face while trying to open the backpack. Seconds later, he started digging around until he found what he needed: the bottle of water. Leaning back, he forced himself to open his eyes despite the pain, then poured the water over his face and eyes. Though it still hurt badly afterwards, he at least was able to squint and see out of one of his eyes. He then grabbed the backpack and made his way to the nearest body of water, determined to wash away every bit of the biting chemicals or drown himself in the attempt.

- - -

A while later, Marcus sat on the ground, leaning against the black stone pillar back outside the Dead zone. His clothes were still damp and clinging to his frame. He was holding onto the old picture of his family that he had retrieved from his dad’s gym, fingers tracing the wooden edges. Glancing at the bag beside him, he chuckled at the fact that he had gotten his ass handed to him by a mouthy teenager. ‘I feel sorry for the poor sod she ends up dating,’ he thought as he closed his eyes, trying to ignore the discomfort he was still feeling all over his face, resting his head against the black pillar that held his parents’ names.

His phone that was on his lap vibrated a few times, prompting him to look at the screen to see more texts from his uncle, letting him know he was almost there. After texting back with a thumbs up, Marcus opened up his email app before setting up a new message to send himself, fully aware that Specter or Bastion would read it. Pausing briefly, his fingers hovered over the touch screen before he started typing.

┏ ┓

“Found another art project. Blue.

Blood and iron.”

- Nexus

┗ ┛

He pressed send and seconds later heard his phone vibrate, indicating he had just received mail from himself. Though it was his own mail and on his own device, he and his companions had agreed to keep things vague in case someone intercepted his emails, or before they could delete them and someone stumbled upon them. ‘Specter’s right. I really should look into burner phones or disposable emails or something. Or just make concept emails? Would that work,’ he thought as he recalled one of his earlier chats with the robot. He shook his head when he read the name ‘Nexus’ again, as the three of them had decided it should be his codename. ‘It sounds nerdy when I read it on my own like this. Still, it’s kinda fitting, considering the fact that I’m the connecting element between the robots.’

Seconds later, he saw the email he had sent himself marked as read before it got deleted mere moments later. ‘Good lads.’ Eventually, he spotted his uncle’s car in the distance, slowly making its way towards him. Marcus waved at his uncle before getting up, grabbing the backpack and the family picture as he made his way over to his uncle’s car. He opened the door and got in.

“Thanks for picking me up.”

“What happened to your face?” Laurens asked, staring at his nephew, noticing the red skin and irritated eyes. “You look like you got an allergic reaction while getting sunburned at the same time. And why are you all wet?”

“Pepper sprayed,” Marcus admitted, closing the door and dropping the backpack between his feet. He stared at his uncle, who looked confused. “What?”

“What do you mean, what?” Laurens threw up his hands in frustration. “How the hell did you get pepper-sprayed?”

Marcus pointed at the fence in front of them before speaking up. “Ran into a looter when I picked up this,” he said, handing his uncle the family picture and seeing the reaction it was producing in him when Laurens briefly froze up at seeing his dead brother. “I suggested the person to stop looting, but got pepper-sprayed and kneed in the groin afterwards.”

His uncle looked at the fence and then back at Marcus as he tried to decipher the puzzle. “How the hell did that happen? Aren’t you supposed to be a fancy Breacher now?”

“Guess you didn’t train me properly. That and apparently us ‘fancy Breachers’ still are weak to getting the family jewels kicked in,” Marcus said with an amused smile before pointing at the Sphere in the distance. He then explained how he had jumped the fence, walked around town and ran into the looter, only to get startled by the sudden formation of a Sphere close-by, before telling Laurens how he had cleaned his face with a lot of water and a lot of cursing.

“But what were you even doing here in the—” his uncle began before he got cut off.

“I visited Martin at work. A surprise visit,” Marcus said with a weaker smile this time. “It went as well as you can imagine. Afterwards, he brought me here and told me about what had really happened to him… to mom and dad. Every horrible detail.” Marcus heard his uncle open his mouth a few times, but no words came out. “After that, Martin drove off, and I needed to see my old house for myself. I needed to see the place where they died. I picked up the picture on my way back.”

“He told you, huh?”

“Yeah,” Marcus said as he leaned further into the car seat. “All of it.”

The two of them sat there in silence for a while longer before his uncle spoke up. “I take it you don’t want to talk about it?” He looked at Marcus, who just shook his head, prompting Laurens to start the engine and slowly drive away, giving the black pillar one last look. “So, what do you want to do now? Get some ice for the eyes?”

“That sounds great,” Marcus said, staring out of the window at the blue Sphere beyond the fence as they put more and more distance between them and it. Remembering the email he had sent to his companions, Marcus spoke up again. “How much free time do you have right now?”

“I have a late shift today. So, I still have a few hours. Why? Did you want to take me up on my offer to grab something to eat?” Laurens said with a grin as he patted Marcus’s knees. “I know this great Greek place nearby.”

“I won’t say no to that. But I was actually hoping for a favor,” Marcus said, his eyes flicking to the family picture on the dashboard. “Two actually.”

“Err... alright, shoot.”

“I need to buy my first weapon as a Breacher, and some basic protective gear,” Marcus said, turning his attention to his uncle, who looked clearly surprised. “I have no idea where I can buy gear, what is good, and don’t want to look like a total idiot there. And no, I’m not asking my sister for help. I’ve still got some pride left as an older brother.”

“So, basically, you want a second idiot next to you so you can blend in?” Laurens asked, seeing his nephew nod. “Fine, I’ll play along. So, ice first, then food, and shopping afterwards. What’s the second favor? Besides me as a police officer not reporting your ass for entering a Dead zone?”

Marcus tapped on the family portrait, his finger pressing against the picture of his father and the tattooed notches on the man’s arm. “Still know how to make those notches?” he asked, before turning his attention back to the rearview mirror and seeing the Sphere in the background. “I need to keep track of something important to me Something dad would approve of.”