Eleanor quietly opened the door to the examination room and huffed a contended hmph at the sight, it masked her stifled sigh of relief.
“Told you she wouldn’t be a runner.” She noted behind her while stepping into the small room.
“Yeah, yeah. Still made us go out in the bloody dawn cold…” Dave griped from behind her, peering under Eleanors outstretched arm into the room.
Soune was asleep at the desk, scarf bundled into a pillow. Taking up the other space on the table was a pair of pistols in various stages of assembly laid atop filthy rags.
“Hey, that’s our guns-!” Dave started to bark.
“Shh!” He was quickly hushed by Eleanor, who studied the scene. Her brow furrowed upon seeing the unsteady twitching and muffled grunts of restless sleep.
She gestured to Dave to pass her Soune’s weapons they’d recovered from the vehicle, then jerked her head to the side.
“Go check the cell, make sure that the lunatic hasn’t gotten too comfy, rattle the bars a bit if you have to.” The pair of guards shared a small, sharp smile before Dave left, softly shuttering the door behind him.
Eleanor sagged while shambling over to the other side of the table, never taking her eyes off Soune. She fell into the chair, sighing again as her aching limbs flooded with relief.
“You kids have kept me plenty active these last few days, ay?” She questioned in a smirked whisper while gingerly clearing a space in the assorted spread of parts, her hand paused over the gripless body of her pistol. Her smirk dropped and she placed Soune’s weapons gently in the clearing before closely studying the bare metal of her own.
It was immaculate; cleaner than the day it and thousands of identical others were handed to naive soldiers on the cusp of a vile war. A terrible tool she’d kept out of necessity, and a memento of wretched times of the Oceanic War. Her eyes shifted back to Soune, who judging from the increased rate of grunts and mumbles, was bordering on either waking up, or slipping deeper into a nightmare.
“I’m sorry.” Eleanor started while placing the weapon body back on the table. “All those years and lives wasted under the pretence of giving your age a better life than we had, and all we really did was set you up for failure.” Bitter whispers vented her thoughts while watching the twitching figure.
This young woman; who in the prime of her youth was already flecked with scars and unsteady sleep, who lived at the beck and call of a tyrant, who fought with the ferocity of a starved beast. Has she ever known a day of peace? Ever known the gentle comforts that came with stability and security?
How many more Scourings would she see in her life? How far would the gap widen between elite and plebeian? How many others like her would fall through the cracks of the system into the lawless badlands?
Haunting thoughts that shook Eleanor to her core.
Soune was the avatar of her generation's failings, and now Eleanor had to beg her for help. She stiffened against her regret, forced a smirk and slammed her hands together in a thunderous clap.
Soune shot up like a bullet, panic drumming her heart into action.
“Wha-Wher?” She stammered while scanning around.
“Morning warning, old trench trick.” Eleanor held her hands out innocently. “Better than a cuppa to wake up quickly, ay?” Eleanor knew it was a bad habit, and one that frequently backfired depending on the person, but couldn’t resist testing the mettle of her potential saviour.
Soune narrowed her eyes at the grinning woman, then buried her face back into the fabric. She didn’t see the twitch of a proud smile on the guard.
“Not funny.” She grumbled through the scarf. “Is Rhapsody here yet?”
“Who?”
Soune snapped back up, realising she’d let her hidden companion's name slip.
“Nothing, nobod-hey!” Her attention was drawn to the rifle across the table. She snatched it away from Eleanor’s side, deftly checking the weapon for any meddling.
“Relax, it’s fine, the little twenty-two too. Grabbed them when we checked that truck outside to make sure you weren’t making a run for it.”
“Shouldn’t go touching my stuff.” Soune grumbled, not satisfied with the assurance and continuing to investigate the rifle. Eleanor crossed her arms and waited for Soune to meet her raised stare before nodding her head towards the array of pistol parts. “...That’s different.”
“Oh please, do tell me how.” Eleanor grinned while starting to reassemble her sidearm.
Soune sighed, settling the rifle on her lap before wrapping her scarf back to its usual snugness.
“Last night I had a bit of a spat with the Doc.”
Eleanor shifted her neck, looking over Soune’s shoulder to the first aid pack that had been thrown against a corner of the room.
“Yes, I heard about that…He means well, I hope.”
Soune grunted dismissively, pulling a section of the parts towards herself to assist with the reconstruction.
“Yeah well, was amped up afterwards and had to burn it off somewhere. That sad sack didn’t seem up for more of a discussion about the plan so found myself here after a run and well, helped myself inside. Was a more constructive use of my time than visiting Kirche.”
“Oh? A late night conjugal? So that’s why you saved-”
“No.” Soune replied flatly, staring down the woman. “Combative, if anything…should’ve just let you kill her.”
“Well, I’m glad you didn’t…I’ve dealt enough death in my time.” Her hands shook trying to line up the fine parts of the weapon. Soune’s hands swept the parts away and cleanly fixed them into place.
“Then I saw your belts and stuff in here and got to learning. Like I said, more constructive.” Soune kept recounting and reassembling, not phased by Eleanor’s words.
“Learning?” The old guard was both transfixed and sickened by how masterfully Soune handled the old handgun.
“Yep. Best way to learn how something works, tear it down and build it back up.” Soune clicked the slide into place and tested the action. “Gave it a clean while I was at it, too. Welcome.” The weapon spun in her hand and she offered it back to Eleanor with a smirk.
Eleanor tested the movements of the weapon. The resistance from years of grime and dirt clogging its mechanics was completely absent.
“I like older tech, especially from the Ocean War, they were made to survive the worst environment for machinery. Oh! Did you ever get to see the Dread-MAWS?”
Eleanor looked back at the woman confused, her stern and normally furrowed features were loose and wide even through the lingering effects of sleep. Bright curiosity, it dredged another pang of guilt from her stomach.
“The what?”
“Dread-MAWS, well technically Dreadnought-class Mass-accelerator Artillery Walker Systems.” The beaming words were deafened by memories of sludging through knee-deep mud in flooded trenches, their sides collapsing as quad-legged machines of war strided over them, uncaring for the infantry below.
“Deployed around the beaches to stop landing craft and-”
“Enough!” Eleanor snapped, realising that Soune wasn’t stopping her tangent. “Enough.” She placed the weapon back on the table, repulsed at the rough metal. Soune halted mid sentence, sheepishly looking away from the trembling guard and rubbing her neck.
“Sorry, suppose it’s not as interesting to you, huh…”
Eleanor sighed and renewed a soft smile. Perhaps the girl’s life wasn’t as miserable as she’d thought, still being capable of interests and excitement even over dubious topics was a sliver of hope.
“Old tech, huh? Wait here.” Eleanor noted, groaning as her legs rebelled against rising again and headed to the office-turned-archive. She could hear the scraping of metal as Soune worked on reassembling the other pistol.
A few minutes later she returned, hefting a box onto the table. Soune stood and peered into it, a collection of scattered bullets, blades and other small weapons. She reached in to retrieve her broken bayonet first, then Razgrith’s pistol. Both sullied her already mixed mood. Eleanor plucked out a camera from the box and set it to the side.
“Confiscated materials. You’ve got other supplies waiting outside, but kit up first.”
Soune hummed a half-hearted acknowledgement, occupied by flitting through the box of weapons and plucking out appropriate ammunition.
Eleanor took the time to study Soune’s other weapon, a round-bodied pistol. Chambered for rounds more appropriate for sport than service. A red stripe was painted along the top of its barrel.
“Can’t imagine you get much use out of that compared to the rifle.” Eleanor noted, nudging the lightweight weapon.
“Redback? You’d be surprised, pests get pretty aggressive out and about. Won’t do me much good on this job though…”
“Hm, are you borrowing your friend's one, then?”
“No. Worst comes to worse, Raz’ll need it more than- woah.”
Buried at the bottom of the weapon box was a tubular object, Soune excitedly fished it out into the light. A cylinder of heavily oxidised metal, the knurling along its side and small ports were clogged with grime, and a disconnected end-cap clung to the main body with frayed wires.
“Strew, that looks older than me, what is it?”
“It’s an ALM Tuner! I’ve been looking for one of these for years!” Soune investigated all facets of the wrecked device.
“An alm-what?”
“Adaptive Liquid Metal, changes shape depending on what frequency you run through it. I always wanted a smaller one for a universal screwdriver, but this is better. It’s pretty basic so nothing too complex, might’ve been a baton. Missing its cartridge and this-” She flicked the loose hanging cap. “-has seen better days but-”
Eleanor took the grimy device from Soune, holding it up with a smirk.
“Oi!”
“Well there we go, we just found your payment, little Stranger.”
“I’m not a Stranger, not yet.” Soune pouted, fixated on the Tuner.
“Who decides that?” She held it closed in her hand, then extended it to Soune.
“Here’s your last chance to rethink this. You take this, we’re in a contract. Your task will be to go to this quarry of yours, find a way in and what’s inside, then return here with the evidence within three days. If you fail that, or if the evidence isn’t enough to sway the decision away from Ingram being sold to Seere, you’re to take Gress as far away from here as you can. It doesn’t matter how, but that’s your failsafe condition.” Her hand opened, offering the ALM Tuner in an open palm.
“Once more, Deal?”
Soune breathed deep, reflecting on everything that had led her here, to the horizon of choosing between the flawed stability she’d found under King, or the uncertainty of rebellion. Four years of deceit, defeat, denial and death, could all be for naught. The risk was immense and illogical to take.
Then she thought of bloodsoaked Razgrith, of crippled Antonio, of maddened Kirche. That’s where their loyalty to the man who called himself King had brought them. Finally, she imagined the world-shaking rage the false King would feel over her betrayal and usurpation. It twisted into savage questions.
How much damage could she inflict to his reputation and standing?
How low could she bring him?
Soune huffed a laugh, then clasped her hand over the Tuner and gripped Eleanors, flashing a toothy smirk at the woman.
“Deal.”
Eleanor released the device into her hand.
“Well then. Goodbye Soune Argent the lowlife lackey. Hello Soune Argent, Stranger.”
Finally hearing the title given to her by another, it all clicked. Every decision leading here had finally felt like the right one. Her smirk widened into a full smile, beaming at the woman who in such simple words had given her liberation.
“Thank you.” Soune strained out.
“Don’t thank me just yet, you’ve still got a job to do, girl.”
Soune wicked away the prideful tears into her sleeve, pocketed the Tuner and gathered her belongings. On the way out of the examination room, Dave slammed open the door, startling the pair.
“El! There’s a weird fuck’n truck outside!” He stammered in a frightened panic.
“Weird how?” She prodded.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“It’s got no driver, just rolled up! Even pipped the horn.”
“Oh!” Soune interjected with a fresh smirk. “That’s my ride.”
Soune shouldered past Dave, excited to share the news with Rhapsody. Her racing mind paused near the beat's exit, registering the smell of warm bread.
A paper bag stacked with baked goods sat next to the door, alongside a mug of steaming coffee. Beside that was a bulging satchel. Intrigued by the contents of it, Soune went for it first.
An odd collection of water bottles, ripe fruits, dried herbs, and loose, mixed tidbits were stuffed inside.
“Hell is this?” She murmured out loud.
“Your supplies, ingrate.” Eleanor teased from behind her. She waited for Soune to look back with furrowed brows before dropping her taunting smile to explain.
“I’ve told you, you’ve seen it. The people here don’t have much, but they still parted with what they had to help you. That waters some of the last they could have in a disaster, someone won’t have lunch today because of that fruit, a mother won’t be able to patch her child’s clothes because she gave you her only needle and thread.”
Soune felt a pit of guilt in her chest when looking back at the pack, she took the larger objects out to investigate further. Those random odds and ends settled at the bottom suddenly seemed so much more present. A small survival kit, a rusted pocket knife, a mint tin packed with needles and flattened lengths of thread.
“Here, just give it back, I won’t need this stuff. Same as the bread - ” Soune grabbed the wrapped sandwich on top of the bag. “- It’ll just rot if I keep it.” She offered it to Eleanor who shook her head sternly.
“No. Take it with you, all of it. Doesn’t matter if you use it. They need to feel like they can help. Giving to you is all they can do to save themselves.”
Soune sighed to hide her swallowed guilt. The well stocked, and mistreated, first-aid kit in her pack suddenly felt much heavier.
“...It’s all just dead weight.” She growled to stifle it further.
“Don’t care, take it. For their sake.” Eleanor’s rare sternness and authority made it clear this wasn’t a topic of discussion.
“Fine.” Soune relented and gathered the offerings before casually stepping through the exit. She blinked in shock and confusion upon seeing the anxious, gathered crowd around the nearby gate. Half their eyes whispered and murmured about the ghost vehicle, while the others silently watched her.
Eleanor planted an encouraging hand on Soune’s shoulder, she stiffened at the unexpected touch.
“They’re here to see off their saviour, give them some hope, would you?.”
“How the hell do I do that?” Soune asked through gritted teeth.
“A speech would be a good start.” The hand pressed her forward into a caught stumble, leading to a stilted pace towards the crowd.
Coffee in one hand, the other twisted around the bag handles. An awkward expression and unsteady movements. She was hardly the image of a hero.
“Well uh.” She raised her voice, unable to dull the usual husky edge to her volume. “Thanks for the bottles, bread…bits and bobs. I’ll try not to let them go to waste.” The silent scepticism of the crowd deepened with her unintentionally unconvincing tone.
“Oh dear.” She heard Eleanor groan quietly behind her. Soune sighed, set down the offerings and stood straight.
Genuine, what could she muster to them that was genuine?
She closed her eyes and felt the broken device in her pocket. All the frayed wires, powdery oxide and stiff buttons. Her mind raced towards the kind of tool or weapon she could form it into.
Weapon.
That’s what she was. A weapon. A tool of anger and violence.
That was it, that’s what was genuine to her. Her eyes opened back to the hapless group.
“My entire life has been shaped by people with more power than I could dream of.” She began, no longer trying to mask her tone. “The First Scouring took away my home, but gave me a new one, I had someone to raise and protect me. Then, the Second killed her.”
She paused to let her thoughts settle and compose, though it also served to stir the crowd’s interest. She stared up at the orbital ring with refreshed spite.
“I had nothing after that. I was alone, scared and desperate. Desperation that others saw a chance in. I was tricked into the service of a mad old K’nt that turned me into a weapon, and my only reward was a promise of the life he’d taken from me. I’d like to say I’m doing this because I don’t want people like King to keep profiting off the misery of others, or that I’m some noble hero defending the masses, but that’s not it.”
Confusion and trepidation was clear in the crowd, made worse when a sharp smirk appeared on their speaker.
“I’m doing it because I want to hurt someone,, and frankly just curious about just what’s going to happen. King’s desperate now, I’ve been waiting a long time for that. You lot have just given me the push I needed to act on it.”
Soune reached down and held up the offered bags.
“Thanks to you, I can bite the hand that feeds me. Same one that holds your lives like coins.”
Silent shock breezed through the crowd. After a long moment of Soune staring at them while holding up the bags like a trophy, the awkward pause was broken by the applause of the Baker. Others slowly joined in, respectfully relieved the woman’s speech was over.
Eleanor came up beside Soune, struggling to keep a straight face.
“That was terrible.” She forced out in a whisper.
“Shut up. I’m more for action, not words.” Soune gritted out while lowering her arm.
Soune scanned the crowd, laughs had begun to join in the cheers and she felt a different kind of heat than the usual anger rush to her face.
To her relief, there was no flash of a raggedy white surgeon's coat or signature scowl. To her mild disappointment, no hooded gold eyes having a world-shifting revelation and change of heart.
Eleanor escorted her to the rattling gate, slowly opening at Daves operation.
“That’s that then… Our terms are clear.” She offered with a tight, restrained nod towards her machine. “Go on then. I think I’m just as bad as goodbyes as you are.”
“Yeah… I hope this works out for both of us.” Soune returned the nod, and hurried towards her vehicle.
The door strained with the speed she opened it, breathing a heavy sigh of relief with the final confirmation he was here and safe. She dropped the bags to pat the machine’s housing, as if it was one final check on reality. Warm, rough metal.
“Finally made it here, Rhap.” Her tone was softened with relief, eager to finally organise all her twisted thoughts with the machine.
“You doubted me?” The speakers croaked quietly.
“Been a long and weird night. Wish you got here a bit quicker though, would’ve saved me the pain of that speech…” Soune continued while packing away the supplies in the back seats, joining her messy arrangement of the ones she’d stowed away at home.
“I did consider crashing through the gate to save you. Primary Protocol, protect the Handler.”
“Didn’t realise that included from embarrassment.” Soune felt her smile widen, realising just how much she’d missed the machine.
“From anything.” Rhapsody assured. Soune huffed another smile and shut the door.
“Was a nice speech-” A cutting voice from beside her made Soune jump and reach for an absent weapon at her waist. “-If you ask me. Showed your true colours a bit.” Gress glared up at her from below, sitting against the vehicle's hull. His eyes were narrowed dangerously at her. “Not entirely, though. Makes me wonder which part you’re more honest about. Curiosity or rebellion?”
“Fuck!” Soune’s hand rushed to the Tuner in her pocket. A metal object was better than no weapon. “Where did you come from?”
Gress turned over a dappled rock in his hand, Soune’s instincts tightened her hand around the Tuner. He dropped it through a crackling portal, catching it when it fell down from its mirror above, then raised his brow towards a shadowed section of the town fence.
“Oh, portals, right.” Her panic settled. Though she calmed her stance and offered a smirk, her hand still rested against the Tuner. “So, change your mind on coming along or trying to kill me? The heart attack method’s a long shot, if you ask me.” She tried to jab back at the snark of the Splinter, but it seemed to only deflate him.
“...I don’t know. I don’t know what I'm doing anymore. Spent years trying to fit in and protect this place, ended up getting more blood on my hands and drawing you lunatics here.” His claws bit into the jagged stone. “And then what happens? They cheer you. They cheer you for relishing in violence, while I’ve tried to avoid it and gotten nothing but problems.”
The claws scraping into stone drew Soune’s attention. She noticed the dark brown streaks in the rock. Not natural patterns, she realised, but dried blood.
Scirocco.
“...He deserved it, you know. Kirche too.” She took her hand from her pocket, leaning against the vehicle door to talk. Gress only scoffed at the response.
“Why do you get to decide that?” He spat, not meeting her softened gaze. Cornered, angry, lashing out, unsure of anything and everything. She’d been in his spot before.
Soune swallowed, and remembered the poisoned, honeyed words she’d been told at the time. She wouldn’t do that - couldn’t become like Kirche.
“Because I’m a bad person.” Soune said flatly, drawing curious but cautious eyes to her. “I said as much, I’m selfish, angry, and violent. I’ve killed for gain and revenge. But it’s because I’m a bad person that I can recognise a worse one.” She pointed to the bloody rock.
“Another murderer?” Gress jabbed.
“No. He’d twist others into doing it for him, sneak through the gaps they left behind and sucker up to whoever would benefit him the most. I noticed what you said to him, y’know, that he could’ve warned us about you. I wondered why, my guess is because if we died and he lived, he got a bigger pay cut. He’d done it before and if he lived he’d have done it again. That’s why he deserved it.”
The stone felt heavy and repulsive in his claws, though a purr ran along his spine when he considered the killing as a positive.
“What does that make me then? For killing a non-killer-killer, is that a good thing?” He asked.
“I dunno.” Soune shrugged, and noticed his expression shift away from the inward, furrowed turmoil. “I try not to think about things so one-or-the-other. Good and bad don’t really matter to me, but I’m not gonna deny on that scale I’m definitely leaning on the not-so-great side.”
“And yet here you are, throwing away what you had to save a town you’ll probably never see again.”
“To sate my curiosity, and to get a hit in on a real bastard. I can do both.”
They measured each other up for a long moment before Gress stood with a sigh.
“You’re a better person than you’d like to believe.”
Soune’s lips twitched downwards, that strange guilt twisted in her chest again.
“Maybe you’re a worse person than you’d hope if you think that… C’mon, wallow in the mud a bit and see how it feels.” She said with a smirk, eager to shift the mood.
“Not like you’re doing anything wrong anyway, just saving your people, revealing the secrets of a corrupt King, and if it doesn’t work, you’ll get back in time for your suicide saviour schtick.”
“Hmm.” Gress contemplated while carving lines away from the stone. Soune watched, fascinated at how the strips of rock simply disappeared into the claws before falling out of his palm.
“How far away are these doors of yours?”
“Couple of hours, a few at most, not that far.” Soune started.
“Six and a half hours. Each way.” Rhapsody croaked from inside.
“...That’s a few.” She reasoned with a shrug.
“And how long will it take to get these doors open?” Gress pressed with raised brow at the new participant to the conversation.
“Not that long probably, once the guns are down it’ll be simple eno-”
“Electronically sealed blast doors require an override, another hour or two depending on the complexity.” The machine added. Soune elbowed the door.
“...Right. Any other delays I should know about.”
“Probably not.”
“Raider activity recently has increased twenty-four percent. Dust storms five-point-
“-It’s a weird world out there, you never know what you’ll find. He’s just a worrywart.” Soune sheepishly explained to the increasingly confused Splinter.
“I am cautious, not a worry-”
“Ok enough! Who is that?” Gress finally questioned.
“That’s Rhapsody.” Soune stepped back and opened the door to present the bramble of electronics.
“Hello.” The speakers responded. Gress looked between the device and Soune, who was baffled at his confusion, as if showing him the machine had explained everything. Gress stepped back with a strained chuckle.
“...Weird world indeed.” After a moment's hesitation, the scarred rock was slashed into narrow pieces by the shearing claws closing. His hand loosened, letting the shards fall and shed the bad blood in light flakes.
“Come on, let’s get this insanity over with.”
Soune smiled, then dropped when she turned and saw Eleanor still waiting at the gate.
“Shouldn’t you-?” She started.
“No. It’s better this way.” Gress responded.
“And what about your plan B?” She glared over her shoulder.
He didn’t react.
“...Nah.” Soune looked back and whistled loudly, gesturing to Eleanor towards her.
“What the hell are you-HEY!” Gress was halted by the scowling woman grabbing him by the cloak. He was shaken, then pushed up against the hull. Soune brought herself close to the growling Splinter, spitting her words.
“You wanna be good, right? How’s leaving without a goodbye good? I can tell you from experience, it’s a living hell for them!” Her grip loosened on the cloak, realising she’d let something hidden slip. She shook it off and dragged him around to the other side of the vehicle before shoving him towards Eleanor. They straightened and stared at each other for a slow moment.
“...Gress I-” Eleanor started.
“I-...It’s alright, Auntie El.” Gress uncomfortably tried to settle.
“No. It’s not. I wrote that letter a long time ago, but I still can’t shake some of those feelings.” Eleanor continued with a stone gaze, unflinching in contrast to the flinching Splinter. “...But none of them compare to how much I love you now, son.” She stepped forward and pulled him into a tight embrace. “I’m just sorry it took this long to say it…”
Gress hesitated, failed to stifle a sob and returned the hug. Even with claws pricking at her back, Eleanor didn’t falter and let the Splinter hold as tight as he needed.
Soune turned away, telling herself the pain in her chest was of disgust. “Gross…” She whispered, hoping to make the feeling real.
Eleanor broke the hug first, stepping back and clasping Gress’ shoulders.
“There’s a lot we have to talk about, so you better not disappear on me.”
He placed his good hand atop hers.
“Of course.”
“And don’t even think about whatever wretched deal Callahan gave you, I’ll be dealing with him later.” The promised anger in her voice sent a chill down Soune’s spine, soothed by the relief knowing she wouldn’t be involved in dealing with the Am-Ray suit now.
Gress chuckled and grinned.
“You found out, huh?” He glared over his shoulder to the turned away woman. “Not very good at keeping secrets, are you?” Soune didn’t react, though her lips pursed into a silent pout.
“Go on then.” Eleanor stepped away and nodded towards the vehicle. “Let the women talk.” Soune turned with a raised eyebrow.
Gress stepped back, slowly, before nodding a goodbye and disappearing around the vehicles cab.
“What now? We’re burning daylight.” Soune groaned.
“There’s plenty of it. Here.” Eleanor retrieved her pistol and two magazines from her belt before continuing. “It’s kept me and mine safe for decades now, but I don’t think it’s quite ready to retire.”
“You’re already paid up, save it for another job.” Soune tried to wave it away, but had it pressed into her hand.
“A gift.” She nodded towards Gress who was struggling with the seatbelt one handed. “Something to help keep him safe.”
“We already agreed to that.” Soune took the pistol. It felt natural and well-weighted in her hand. “...You sure?”
“Tell you what, when he comes back, so does it. Until then, take care of them.” Eleanor said with a wink.
“Good luck, Stranger.” The two parted with a smirking nod.
----------------------------------------
All packed in, Soune told Rhapsody to rest and recharge, leaving her and the Splinter in a tense silence while she acclimated to the controls of the vehicle. Gress’ nose curled as the air circulation kicked in.
“What’s that smell?” He griped, trying to cover the bakery bag from the foul air.
“Hm?” Soune sniffed the air while the vehicle's mass lightened and jerked upwards. “Oh, probably the blood puddle in the storage. Didn’t have time to clean it.”
Shocked eyes went from seeing the engaged lock on his door to Soune’s unbothered expression in the rear-view.
“Weird world…” The whispered remark trailed off into a hidden, subtle grin at his next thought.
Weirder people.