The way back brought ample opportunity for Ark to reflect upon his actions, as well as considering the possible consequences. In the darkness, with only his netlink to guide him back, Ark wondered how bad he had just screwed up.
What kind of devil did I just unleash?
Using the coordinates he had set up, Ark found the passage back, where he reconnected with the tether. It hung limply where he had left it, and Ark quickly attached the security measure while attempting to signal back to Mino. While he waited for a response, his mind wandered further into darkness; imagining all the ways that a malign entity might damage Vanguard.
For, it was clearly Vanguard that was the enemy of this END—otherwise, why would it suggest such a harsh response if Vanguard ever found out it was here…?
Unless, of course, it wants me to keep silent about it. Maybe it’s just trying to hide…
Then again, there was the fact that someone had left that crystal for END here, in the dark—a place that had been virtually inoperable for at least two decades.
Who? And more importantly, why?
Ark was not sure whether he wanted his questions answered, or if he preferred to remain ignorant. Ignorant was definitely safer, he thought, at least in the short term. In the long term, he might have just doomed all of Vanguard. It was something to consider.
He finally got out of his spiraling doubt and recriminations when he realized there had been no response from the tether. Blinking, Ark tried a series of tugs once more, and after waiting for a few breaths, no response came.
That’s strange… he thought, then began following the tether back. Without anyone pulling the tether taut at the other end, Ark had to gather the tether himself, or otherwise risk getting it stuck on something. As he traveled, he coiled the tether around his hand and elbow one one hand, while steering with the other. It meant it was a long and laborious journey—and it kept Ark’s mind from wandering down a dark path.
When, finally, he saw the end of tunnel, and an escape from the darkness, he was so overcome with happiness that he momentarily forgot about the strange lack of response, or the corrupting presence he had left to its own devices. Only when he grasped the edge of the harbor, about to steer himself up over it, did he realize something was very wrong. The two sets of armored hands that took hold of him and hauled him over the edge was a subtle clue.
The light of Lowtown hit Ark in the face, leaving him with streaks in his vision from the sudden exposure, and he blinked desperately to clear them up, while forcefully being hoisted up and unceremoniously dumped back into a gravity laden world with a heavy thud.
Only the hands holding him firmly ensured that Ark did not immediately collapse upon returning to standing from floating, and yet he stumbled on purpose, testing the ones restraining him without much luck. Their hold was iron, leaving Ark with little room to maneuver.
“Target acquired, sir.” A monotone voice spoke to his side, and Ark looked towards it, blinking the last lines of light out of his eyes. Once he could make out the outline of the armored form, he knew exactly who held him.
Tanks, he thought, ice crawling down his spine. The dark-blue gear was unmistakable, as was the visored helmet with a reflective surface that obscured whatever face was behind it—leaving you to stare into your own mirror image if you stood in front of it. The rest of the armor was standard, tactical gear, with a kevlar vest, a belt laden with pockets and gear, and protective plating sewn into the shoulders, arms and legs of the humanoid that held onto Ark as if its life depended on it.
Tanks—the grunts of Vanguard’s internal security and operations force, VISOR—rumored to be tank-bred clones of humans, due to how similar the heights and builds of every one of them were, along with their alien appearance in those helmets. Without seeing below the helmet there was no way to know if the rumor was true or not, but a Tank never, ever removed their helmet.
Swallowing, Ark turned to the other side, confirming that there were two Tanks holding him, before looking around and finding another six Tanks standing around the perimeter, holding back any onlookers—not that anyone really wanted to get too close to VISOR enforcers.
“That’s him? The one who went below?” An authoritative voice caught Ark’s attention, and he looked to the man standing of to the side, where Mr. Wright was winging his hands and staring from the man to Ark and back.
“Y-Yes sir, that’s the one.”
The man nodded and turned toward Ark, nodding. “Excellent, let’s get this over with. You there—name?” He addressed Ark before taking two long steps to loom over him. The man was large, dressed in the dark-blue uniform of a VISOR officer, without the helmet that the grunts deployed with. Instead, he wore a color-matching barret with the emblem of a single star set in a V-pattern. His face was a study of impatience, and his brow furrowed over steel-gray eyes as he stared down Ark, who was attempting to formulate an intelligent response.
“Subje—“ Ark caught himself in the instinctive reply, and amended it, “—Ark, sir.”
“I see…” The man raised an eyebrow, but did not argue the point. Instead, he turned to the Tank that stepped up beside him. “Confirm his identity.”
“Yes sir,” the Tank said, turning its reflective helmet to Ark. He supposed it was running a Netlink scan, but the way it simply stood there and let Ark stare into his own confused face was unnerving.
“Identity confirmed. Ark—no last name. Resident of Lowtown. Formerly the ward of Respite Orphanage. Current status… unemployed.”
“It seems the status needs to be amended,” the officer said, eying Ark in his grav suit, “Or is his current attire unauthorized?” The last part he addressed to Wright, whose face twisted into a pained frown.
“He’s a day-laborer, sir. N-Not employed.”
“I see. And his companion?”
When the officer nodded to someone behind Wright, Ark finally found Mino, who was similarly held by Tanks, although he had been placed on his knees, and had four Tanks holding his arms and shoulders.
“Also a day-laborer… I-I’m terribly sorry sir, if I had known he would—“
“Can it, Mr. Wright, I have no need for you excuses,” the officer cut off the ramblings of Wright and turned to Ark.”
“Tell me, Mr. No-last-name, what were you doing down in the old service tunnels?”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“I was clearing minor rifts, sir,” Ark said, trying to sound reasonable, although he had to grit his teeth to do it, “I received proper authorization before each one.”
“Oh, I’m aware,” the officer said, eyes alight with lines from his Netlink, “However, at approximately two hours ago, Vanguard detected you entering the restricted zone. Explain why.”
Ark’s mouth was dry. Vanguard had detected that? It meant he was screwed. Entering a restricted zone was no laughing matter, regardless of the reason. Not to mention that the actual reason Ark had gone in there was even worse. There was no ready and believable lie—Ark had not prepared for this. Although, in hindsight, he should have seen it coming. Vanguard was always watching, after all.
“I… I did?” Ark said, trying on his best and most honest face, “I didn’t realize. I’m sorry, sir.”
The officer barely blinked. Instead, he simply nodded to one of the Tanks holding Ark. He never saw the blow coming. One moment he was trying to look innocent, the next he felt his gut cave in with the force of the blow, and he lost his footing. The two Tanks held him up, so he simply slumped in their grasp before puking the contents of his stomach out on the ground.
“I’ll try again,” the officer said, though Ark barely heard him through the screaming pain in his stomach, “what were you doing in the restricted—“
Another roar filled Ark’s ears, but this one he distinctly recognized, and dreaded. With all of his strength, Ark raised his head, just as Mino threw off the first of the Tanks holding him.
No, no, no, no…! Ark tried to open his mouth, tried to say something, but all that came out was bile. Meanwhile, Mino reached out and grasped another Tank, like a child would grab a doll, and threw it to the side. The mild-mannered boy that Ark had known for years was gone, and in its place was the mindless rage of a berserker—a beast. Ark had seen it before, and knew that Mino would stop at nothing to get to Ark.
The only problem, of course, was that Tanks were not just dolls to be thrown about, not even by someone as massive as Mino. They were trained elites, capable of subduing every threat from human rioters to riftwalking monsters.
There were also ten of them, and only one of Mino.
“Stop him,” was all the officer said, clearly bored of the whole proceeding. The two still holding on to Mino forced him to stand still, as the others withdrew batons from their belts, and began pummeling the raging boy, despite him fighting back with all he had.
Mino had been trained in the Maze, and understood combat, but he had never been good at it. Right now he was raging, and it gave him strength, but it came at a cost. Without any regard to basic fighting technique, or the damage his opponents systematically accrued upon his massive frame, Mino was first forced down on his knees, then pummeled until he was unable to resist the Tanks that held down his limbs. Finally, he was knocked face-first into the ground and held there by two Tanks with knees in his back.
“Mino…! Stop!” Ark said, his voice a hoarse croak. It did nothing at first, but once Mino was unable to move, he stopped struggling after Ark kept repeating himself.
Finally, with Mino down for the count, the officer turned back on Ark with a bored expression. “Care to elaborate, or should I just haul you in front of a magistrate and get you into a labor program?”
That would be the worst possible option. In Vanguard there was no room for criminals to sit around I cushy cells and enjoy having their liberty taken from them. A sentence was always labor, and it was the kind of labor that took you into the riftmines or along with gathering expeditions. In other words, dangerous labor—the kind no one willingly did.
“W-Wait,” Ark said, still trying to catch his breath and think at the same time. He had some leverage, but unless he played this right, it would be useless.
“I’m listening,” the officer sighed, “You have two minutes to explain, citizen.”
Wetting his lips, Ark verbally attacked the problem the only way he knew how: with half the truth and an educated guess on the direction of the officer’s moral compass.
“I was clearing the tunnels, I was!” Ark repeated, when the officer raised an eyebrow and was about to signal the Tank that previously hit Ark, halting only when Ark continued, “Only, while I was going through the tunnels, I saw something… and I investigated it.”
“Which mean you knowingly entered the restricted zone,” the officer said, matter-of-factly, clearly wanting to move on with his day as soon as possible, “Along with your friend’s assault on VISOR personnel… Well, I’m sure the magistrate will hear you out—“
“I think,” Ark said, daring to cut off the officer before he got ahead of himself, “You’ll be interested to know what I found, sir.” He stared into the man’s eyes after speaking, willing him to understand the direction he was taking.
The officer paused. He narrowed his eyes, studying Ark closely. Biting his lip, Ark waited, blood pulsing in his ears. Finally reaching a conclusion, the officer stepped forward and dismissed the Tanks with a wave of his hand. The two let go of Ark and stepped back.
The officer stepped even closer to Ark, breaching his personal space to loom over him with his steely gray eyes fixed on Ark’s. Finally he nodded and spoke to the two Tanks, “Go secure the other one. I need to speak with this one.”
They both saluted and stalked back to take their place holding down Mino. Only then did the officer speak in a hushed tone, “Alright, boy. Speak—this better be good.”
Ark played no games this time, but merely nodded and reached into one of the pockets of his grav suit, opening it slightly to allow the officer to peer into it. A colorful light attempted to escape Ark’s pocket, but he managed to keep it contained while the officer recognized what it was, and his breath caught.
“It… That’s real?” He said, clearly as disbelieving it as much as Ark originally had.
“It is,” Ark confirmed, with the same reverence.
The man wet his lips and surreptitiously eyed the Tanks around him, as well as Wright and Mino standing to the side.
“Give it to me,” the officer said, his tone brisk and broking no argument.
“I want guarantees,” Ark said, closing the pocket firmly.
“Give it to me, or I’ll have you before the magistrate along with the story on how your friend assaulted—and almost killed—VISOR personnel.”
It was an exaggeration that would see the two of them thrown to the harshest and most dangerous work the magistrate could find.
“Do that, and the magistrate will get it,” Ark said, padding his pocket, “And he won’t share it, you know that.”
“Then I’ll just take it,” the officer said, now growling.
“And let them see,” Ark nodded to the Tanks around them. He knew the Tanks were utterly incorruptible. It was common knowledge, along with how corrupt the officer’s controlling the Tanks were.
They were at a stalemate, and Ark knew he was playing with fire. Their eyes were locked and neither were looking away or giving an inch. Finally the officer gritted his teeth and barked, “Release the boy… This one walks as well. Clear all charges.”
“Yes sir.” A monotone voice from the collective Tanks was all the insurance Ark was going to get. It was all he needed. Very, very carefully, he opened his pockets and reached into it, withdrawing the shining object within. The officer, even more carefully, found a small handkerchief and proffered it.
Slowly, so as not to alarm the officer, Ark placed the object upon the handkerchief and let go. For the briefest of moments, the shining object was clearly visible for any observer. It was oblong and had crystalline facets, along with an inner light that played off the reflective surface of the object. In short, it looked like an egg—a crystal egg that glowed with all the colors of the rainbow. It was the very object that END had bartered with—what it had offered Ark in return for him allowing it to leave in peace.
A single rift egg.
Quick as he could, the officer closed the handkerchief around the rift egg and put it in his own pocket. He studied Ark for a moment longer, then turned on his heels and walked off, barking orders to the Tanks. The entire force left Ark, Mino, and Mr. Wright standing dazed and a little worse for wear.
“Well shit,” Mr. Wright said, after a while, “What the hell did you find down there?”
Ark eyed the man, then ignored him and walked over to Mino, who was covered in dark bruises.
“You alright, Mino?” Ark said, knowing the answer was ‘no’, but still had to ask.
“Yeah… Yeah, I’m good,” the massive boy lied, before getting up on his knees, then back onto wobbly feet. “You?”
“Breakfast’s gone,” Ark said, shrugging, “But I didn’t get one to start with, so we’re good. No waste.”
They both grinned with specks of blood in their teeth. Then Mino looked from Ark to Wright. With a strain in his voice, he called out, “We’re still getting paid for this, right?”