Touched by only the dim ambient light of the urban cavern, scattered rocks sit spread across the uneven floor amongst chunks of dirt in varying sizes. All of the debris in fact are in diverse sizes and shapes, chaotic and without order. Some of the rocks are visibly fragmented with pairs of rocks complementing one another yet separated, with strands of dirt laid in between in uneven piles.
From above a bright pink flash is brought on by a few arcs of pink electricity which course to the rocks, spreading over the debris before then flickering and vanishing.
A few seconds later, more arcs reappear over the rocks, although maintained for a more extended period of time, and within that time a few of the dirt particles begin quivering as though there was a quake. But alas, the electricity flickers before vanishing, and the quivering particles are returned to rest.
Above and around the detritus is the short woman covered in the oversized white and pink cupcake hoodie, who gazes through electrified eyes, with glowing pupils emitting arcs within the iris, at her fingers which spark pink arcs in between. The arcs flicker again before vanishing, and with a frown she softly sighs in defeat, giving up on the attempt on such a meticulous action.
Whilst she stands in the cavernous cavity carved crudely, aggressive raspy shouting from behind her floods out into the neighborhood crassly. The source of which is visible through the hole where the other three are, the woman in the blazer in the hollow living room and the other two in the functionless kitchen.
Still focused on the blatant hole left in the house inviting anyone to step on inside, Kokei closes her eyes with an even more disappointed sigh, lowering her head as pink strands of hair partially cover her face while the familiar senile raspy voice berates, “It wasn’t even minutes I mean seriously how did you even achieve such a feat?!?!”
Inside the kitchen room, Meditat stands leaning against the dirt countertop, his elbows resting against the surface to support his hands which grip the sides of his face directed to said surface in a contemplative, troubled expression.
He silently stares at the counter while behind him paces Ekitai, throwing a fit with his arms shaking his flask as he walks back and forth in the kitchen, continuing on: “Like what, did you just think since this was a house that meant there was no danger and we could just do anything?? Didn’t you say you did ‘research?’ My guy, I would LOVE to see those files because I swear I would not be surprised if you marked this world down as nothing more than ‘big underground cave place.’ Seriously, I mean shoot I should’ve mentioned that when we parked in the first place but in my defense you’re the one gloating about how ‘figured out’ you had everything!”
He continues to pace around as Meditat remains standing in place, and in a calm voice he dryly inquires, “Are you done? It was a brief oversight that happens on these long missions, and just because we don’t have it currently in our possession does not mean it’s gone forever.”
Behind him, Ekitai sips from his flask and unleashes a painfully sarcastic laugh before sneering, “Oh really? Well bombs man I didn’t know you were suddenly an optimist!”
Under his breath Meditat growls at the barrage of insults, for while they were somewhat deserved to an extent they were quickly becoming pointless attacks. He then stands up straight and turns around to face Ekitai, who stops upon noticing his shift in attention.
Standing against the insults without feeling anxious but rather with a bold glare, Meditat confidently asserts, “I shut down the pod’s engine, and it can only swiftly reactivate under my exact command, a command that cannot so easily be hacked as it is one sent over my own servers, servers unlinked to any physical reachable drive. Now, I understand that they have a rather talented local hacker in their group, likely the cyborg and technically they may be able to reroute the system to unwire the pod from my own security systems, but that is far more difficult and something that will take time.”
Not backing down either from the shouty match, Ekitai once again queries degradingly after a swig, “Okay then, sure I’ll follow you on that even though you’re once again underestimating people you clearly did not research into, for all you know they might’ve already unwired the system without you knowing and may be sectors away but even if not, let’s go with that then sure. Okay, well say they need some time to get the pod, that does not answer how we get the pod!”
Meditat groans tiredly to Ekitai’s temper, and he raises his hand which then projects a blue holographic screen of a simplistic map, a map filled with darker blue shapes in varying structures of grids made of rectangular cells and other alleys; more importantly it has a blue triangle in one off the cells by the bottom right corner of the map and near the top left there is a bright dot which is animated in such way that it emits rings which then fade out similarly to a radar ping.
With a dead glare, Meditat elucidates plainly, “You should know what a tracker is.”
For a brief moment Ekitai’s expression falls from confident anger to dumbfounded perplexion, for it seems at first he’s diffused upon staring at the map.
It only takes a couple seconds however for another fuse to be lit, and for him to straighten himself and boldly quarrel with a finger pointed at his opponent but ally, “So what, you’re just going to sunday right in there expecting an empty shed, key it up and fly right on out of there?”
Sighing in exhaustion to the argument, losing sight of any meaning to it, Meditat relinquishes the hologram and returns his hand to his side before turning away from Ekitai to face the door. He begins walking forwards whilst attempting to conclude, “That’s none of your concern, I’ll handle it like I said I would.”
Meditat makes his way towards the end of the kitchen to which Dana steps forward from the living room to meet him, but only a step on his path Meditat is suddenly suspended by a wrinkly bony hand gripping his leather jacket’s collar’s edge.
He immediately stops, and in a blue flash so instantaneous that it’s imperceivable, he faces the other way with the hand off his collar from a shove downwards, his face glaring discontentedly as his locks initially in the air from the wind fall back down.
Face to face both Meditat and Ekitai glare at each other with infernos in their blue and yellow irises, as though flames were boiling from their bodies and melting the dirt house around them until there was nothing but the hell they were conjuring from opposite poles.
Glaring with a suddenly explosive ferocity, Meditat intensely interrogates, “What do you want?”
Glaring straight back with an equally fiery flare, Ekitai similarly intensely answers, “If you could lone wolf these thieves, you wouldn’t have lost the pod in the first place. Now let’s cut the cow because you might say you did ‘research’ but you wouldn’t know how to walk out of this neighborhood yourself. Now for all I know you might be able to pull some fast one with your suit and just fly out of nowhere but I don’t exactly have some kinda plot device that’ll do the same for me, I need this pod back to get out of here which means I won’t just let you screw everything up again.”
Equally confused and agitated, Meditat questions: “Huuh? What are you talking about, there were four people there, they only got the jump because they got a head start but I assure you if the pod was on the ground when I got there not one of them would’ve so as touched the shell. Even if there are more of them, do not just forget I’ve been fighting an army of Exhumans single handedly for years, I am no novice.”
He then turns around to continue his exit, only for Ekitai to then declare, “Yeah you’ve been fighting Exhumans, that’s your whole brand, you’re good at what you’re good at, that’s crazy. And you might’ve seen A hell but you haven’t seen THIS hell because you haven’t seen most of them, you cannot just sling around and make big cannons or whatever you do to solve all your problems, you need to know how to navigate a place by that place’s nature. You stopped using my list and the first Earth you chose suddenly we lost everything. I don’t care what kind of reliable heroic reputation you have but you need me. Hell you needed us even for your whole war debacle, the more you keep telling yourself otherwise the more screwed all of us are!”
Even more perplexed now, Meditat tilts his head and asks, “What are you trying to say?”
“I’m saying that I am going, and that is not something you can choose. I’m here on my own volition and I’m going to do what I want. So either I get in your way or you let me help you. Your choice but there’s no third option,” forcefully proposes Ekitai sternly.
Unable to even properly comprehend the sudden boldness of who was otherwise a bumbling craze, Meditat tsks before reminding, “It’s my pod you know, technically if I wanted to I could just leave you here, helping me recover it doesn’t do anything unless you want to try stealing it for yourself in which case go ahead I’d love to see how that goes.”
“Maybe before I would’ve slipped on that one but you can’t expect me to really think you’d do that,” retorts Ekitai.
“You sure?” prompts Meditat with a tightening glare, an almost devilish flare in his eyes.
Ekitai without any hesitation nods his head and declares, “I am, I know you, you’re a moral person you’re just a really stupid one. And I’m neither but what I am is knowledgeable, and I know how to get around the places you can’t. So I’ll play on the bet of you ditching me, I’m still going and I’m still helping you recover that pod.”
Again Meditat tsks albeit more aggressively with clenched teeth, agitated by the assertion that he couldn’t refute, bested by this strange old man who bounced into his life and no matter how many times he tried throwing him out he’d keep returning.
He puffs again after finally coming to a conclusion, and he surrenders, “Fine, but no killing, I will target you next if you do. I’m getting my pod back, you do what you want.”
He then turns around and resumes his walk out of the kitchen, finally no longer being held back, however upon exiting the kitchen he’s immediately confronted by Dana, whose arms are both in cybernetic form as a silent declaration.
Groaning and placing his hand over his forehead, Meditat is toppled by not just one but another, and in full understanding of the futility of fighting he accepts, “I won’t stop you either, god dammit I should’ve bought those cages.”
Dana lightly smirks at Meditat's remark, and she then glances over to the crater in the wall which Kokei stands over, keeping her eyes off the conversation but being in perfect hearing distance of every word.
Knowing this, Dana casually invites, “Hey Kokei, you coming?”
Across the room, Kokei turns around to face Dana, and she sighs before mentioning, “Or be left here alone with a giant hole in the wall that everyone forgot? Seriously, can Meditat like patch this up or something? And couldn’t he use the door?? It’s literally right there!” while she points both hands at the red energy door.
Dana softly sighs to Kokei’s bombastic rants, and she shakes her head before persuading, “It’ll be fun, come on, we’ll get that hole patched up later. Besides, it’s not like there’s anything in here to steal, we’ll be fine. Come on, either way I don’t want to leave you here, hole or not I don’t trust this place, reminds me too much of, yeah. Let’s go.”
Moaning in angst, Kokei lowers her head and surrenders, “Fine fine, besides I guess maybe I should keep an eye on Ekitai, it seems like every time he goes on any errand it takes all day and he comes back hyper like he just raced the government.”
Immediately Ekitai’s valiant demeanor crumbles with an awkward chuckle and rubbing of the back of his head, terrified out of his mind by the coincidentally accurate assumption which he throws off by simply retorting, “Ahah yeah, I guess everything’s an adventure isn’t it?”
After receiving quite the frail excuse, Kokei pouts and raises her head high, done with her best friend’s antics but also now agreeing to take part in exactly that.
“Well, if that resolves the matter…,” announces the voice of Meditat, who approaches Kokei in silent steps. In noticing the approach, Kokei steps to the side away from him, watching him, as well as the other two who he’s garnered the attention of, stride to the second door made into the house, as though opting to use it despite there being a perfectly functioning door with actual intent right beside it.
He steps in through the hole before pausing, waiting for a few moments of silence.
Then in a smooth turn of the head which blows his white locks in the effect of a wave similar to a cape, Meditat faces the three of those who volunteered his mission with azure eyes shimmering with resolve, and he concludes, “...then I suggest we start moving.”
A soft smile spreads across Dana’s face, and she nods her head as her golden arms revert to a humanly appearance whilst beside her Ekitai nods his head and is first to follow, putting his flask away and his hands inside the pockets of his long brown overcoat.
After Ekitai passes her, Dana then is next to march onward, her amber bangs waving from side to side over her green eyes.
Noticing the attendance, Meditat returns his gaze ahead and continues his strides out of the house through the blown hole, first accompanied by Ekitai stepping through the very same hole in undying hunger for another adventure.
Standing by the side, Kokei watches Dana approach the hole too, but before stepping through she first stops. She then glances at Kokei and gives her a gentle smile before nudging her head in the direction of the hole in affirmation and reassurance.
In response Kokei silently sighs, and once Dana passes through the opening, lastly does Kokei, pocketing her hands in her bright white hoodie. She walks in through the rift, the blinding light consuming her whole along with the rest.
Through the blinding light, the final member strolls in her white shoes to the rest of the group, who all stand around waiting for her in a circle past the hole. She stops in the circle and the four take a moment to calibrate and synchronize, before the first member begins to move, who strides in silent glides with silver shoes down the street.
Next strolls the one in the brown shoes with lax steps, ambling up to the leader and following beside.
Then begins the one with the black shoes, taking a turn and following behind the leader with a professional posture and elegant movements befitting for one who’s accustomed elite mannerisms.
Finally trails the member who came last, who first jogs up to the one in the black shoes before slowing down to keep track, although having to make swifter steps to maintain pace in an attempt to attach on.
All four of the members walk down the street together, their footsteps unsynchronized but their positions nearby, sticking by each other as their shoes kick pebbles and dirt that cover the cavern floor.
In the distance between the houses at the opposite side of the street, some of the loiterers in rags hanging by the dumpsters take notice of the walking quad. Some of them immediately dispel interest and return to their own devices, kicking rocks soullessly or conversing with one another while others maintain sight for an extended period in wonder at the immensely peculiar group.
Those who keep watch trail the four who upon fully compiling then begin their journey, led by the man in the leather jacket who starts down the long street of the neighborhood, closely followed by the other man in the overcoat. Not too far back accompanies the woman in the blazer right alongside the other woman in the hoodie. Still they are all tight knit, as despite their inceptive fragmentation, now on the road they function as a single group.
On foot rather than in a pod, a drive that could’ve taken a few minutes has extended to a hike of hours in magnitude. Around streets with occasional turns, the four maneuver out of the endless neighborhood, every block with the same appearance with the same buildings in the same ordering and the same stacking, all with the same idling of other neighbors by dumpsters.
Not only are the four without a pod, but they do not encounter a single one for as far as they walk, not one by the ground nor one in the air. In fact, the streets are largely empty especially comparatively to those of the bustling golden cities, with the only traffic being that of scarce walkers that cross paths every so often.
Upon approaching the other walkers, Kokei takes notice of their generally uniform attire of raggy clothing ripped and torn, exposing their rough gray skin. Also rather than stride casually like the aliens, they instead drag themselves with their backs hunched and their heads mostly down, ambling without rhythm.
In one case there is a woman with rags covering the top of her head who holds the hand of a young boy, seeming to be right below teens, also in similar clothing. The two walk the opposite direction of the four, crossing paths in one of the streets.
While the two walk, the boy raises his head, and his brown eyes widen in astonishment. He then points his hand towards the group and crudely begins exclaiming, “Mama! Mama! What them?”
Without even having noticed the four at first until it being pointed out, the woman raises her head with bewilderment before glancing towards the direction of the finger before her expression immediately dives into one of terror. She instinctively covers the boy’s eyes with her hand and starts to veer farther to the edge of the street away from the group, which Kokei takes notice to, also hearing the mother whisper: “Don’t bring attention! Come. Come. Away.”
Even more befuddled, Kokei’s eyebrow raises upon seeming to have been directly reacted to in such a defensive manner, and she turns her head to trail the small family to which Dana also takes notice and frowns.
While those two focus more on the family, ahead of them Meditat glances to one of the dumpsters between houses, and his eyes sharpen upon interest being caught, which Ekitai also follows.
Normal to the group in between two of the houses, there are a few people hanging around a dumpster with their backs turned on the street. However, what’s more suspicious is that on the dumpster’s surface itself appear to be a few rectangular cases of sorts, shaped similarly to a deodorant stick with a black strip on the bottom.
While most of the sticks are fully empty, some of them have remaining residues of a teal substance in scarce drops which radiate a gentle glow. At the same time, on the other side of the group is a soft hissing sound, one very familiar.
Fixated on the sticks, Meditat’s glare gleams with a blue flare as his footsteps gradually start slowing down as he hones in on a new interest.
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Behind him however, Ekitai shakes his head and subtly interjects, “It’s not worth it, trust me. Let them be, you’d only be diving into a whole other mess.”
However, Meditat instead contends back, “I heard there was a drug problem, but not like this. Those compositions appear to be Exhuman enhancements, but their stabilization matrices are sloppy.”
In the alleyway, one of the gray men glances backwards to see the group, specifically the one eyeing them. He then taps the shoulder of one of the others, whispering something although unintelligible from afar whilst Ekitai elucidates, “Well, the pirate factions that come in here aren’t the tidiest, they leave stuff behind and the people here hawk on it like a pack of feral dogs, and the factions themselves don’t have the sort of top shelf stuff the first gen had. It’s hand me downs of hand me downs, go figure. Worlds without good enforcement rave over these bootlegs, funnily enough your world is one of the cleanest. The same can’t be said about most others though, especially out here. As I said, it’s not worth it, just look away and keep walking. You want your pod right? We don’t have time to save another world then.”
Understanding the point yet despising its validity, Meditat tsks unhappily and queries apprehensively, “So I’m to simply ignore it, let it fester without taking action? Just leave this ecosystem to burn itself and only watch like an unable bystander?”
“Yes, yes you are. If you want to save this world, at least do it after we get the pod back,” simply answers Ekitai, to which Meditat’s flare then diffuses, sighs trounced with his gaze returned ahead, and speeds his pace back to normal.
Later on ahead of Meditat’s gaze is the end of the neighborhood street, however beyond the block is not a continuation, but rather a differentiation of substantially taller buildings, not quite skyscrapers but towers in their own right. The streets also become noticeably wider, and atop some of the towers are bright white lanterns, functioning as the light of the city to the best of their ability with a tone similar to fluorescent lighting colorless.
Also a sudden change from the neighborhoods is a distinct rumblings up ahead and a mass of moving figures in the distance among the street, for they had reached one of the more urban regions similar to the marketplace they flew over.
Taking note of the audible life, Kokei’s head perks up with intrigue, apprehensive but curious while Dana is merely apprehensive and cautious, sliding nearer to Kokei as though to better shield over her in an act of uncertainty.
While the buildings have more of a square base than the residencies, they too have alleys between, although more narrow. There are even more dumpsters, although with less space they’re more densely compacted together.
Also in the alleys are inhabitants lounging around, with even more littered empty sticks, tossed around carelessly despite the criminalization it would’ve caused on other worlds. Instead here, nobody appears even troubled by their infestation, rather it’s as if they don’t take audit at all. Some of the loiterers stand leaning against the walls and dumpsters, but a handful of them are laying down on the hard rocky surface, sleeping out in the vulnerable open. A few of them have rags that cover their bodies to function as blankets.
From behind one of the dumpsters stands up a man who then tosses aside another stick with teal residues, off with the rest of the litter. He then takes notice of the watcher, and flashes a hostile glare.
Exchanged with contact, Meditat reverts his gaze from the alley to the road ahead, now caught in the storm; the mob of civilians strolling up and down the street in families and groups while maintaining distance from his group.
In front, to the sides, and behind are filled with people dressed in similarly frazzled clothing, although what’s more is that upon much closer inspection, nearly all of the people around them have highly macilent bodies, with shriveled cheeks and nearly skeletal limbs. Their clothing is also noticeably baggy and loose despite it appearing to be of appropriate size factoring in their heights.
Upon noticing the curious gaze cast onto them, the folk sway their paths further away, concealing the eyes of younglings beside them and whispering in a judgemental tone, for it seems nearly all of them are shaken up by the presence of travelers, travelers who very much stand out in the monumental crowd.
In fact, while most of the street is tightly packed with people leaving little personal room for one another to get by, there is a strangely wide bubble around the four travelers, a bubble that no other civilians dare enter, for instead upon approaching from the other side they’d rather sway away even if it meant cramming the edges of the bubble.
Like a repulsive magnet, the group repels all those who get within their field, muttering under their breaths with scowls.
Those scowls aren’t reciprocated by the group, all with the exception of Dana who glares back equally fierce, the only one who seems not only discomforted by the hostility but elevates to a retaliatory disgruntlement.
She marches right beside Kokei, so close that she’s nearly pressing against her shoulder enough so that Kokei perceives and reacts dazed.
More into the expedition, more the streets widen, more the buildings stand taller, more the traffic to and from better spaced yet still very much compact. Yet despite the visual refinements closer to the prominent urban nexus, the same fatigued attitudes are shared by those who amble on the same rocky floor with the same lackluster light shining on the dirt walls. With greater diversity of the populus around, a noticeable strange occurrence is that there is no exposed hair from any of the inhabitants, for their heads are either covered up or they’re openly bald, for even in such a dense population there is no exception.
Still at the head of the group leads Meditat beside Ekitai who swigs with a half full flask in hand, both of them observing the city while Kokei trails behind, intimately accompanied by Dana. Whereas the majority of the citizens are dressed similarly in ragged clothing, some with more distinctive hoodies and coats but overall dull in fashion, the bright white snug hoodie and the sharp black dignified blazer caught the interest of many folk, their gazes fixating onto them even more than the ones ahead. Dana’s hands remain behind her back, concealing her tight grip over her wrist, nearly clawing at her own skin as she catches every cast towards them.
Not particularly absorbed into the passing glances, Meditat instead is more immersed in those whose attentions lie elsewhere, whether it be on the void they wander to or each other. Interestingly enough, not many people appear to even stare at him, similarly to the ally beside him, as though they were already well assimilated in the environment, an assumption that could be corroborated by their similar frail figures and dull dress.
Amongst the clutter of sounds from the trudges and passages all tuned out into a haze, a certain group of shouting and tussling alert Meditat out of the crowd, shifting his piqued gaze towards the alleys not too far from the densely populated street.
Within such an alley, its limited space further cramped by dumpsters and litter, a teenage boy shouts and yells as his body is slammed into one of the dumpsters, resulting in a bang as he roars back desperately.
Surrounding him are four other teenagers, all towering over him not particularly because of their builds for their bodies are similarly frail but instead because of the other power they exhibit, for the one who threw reveals his arms to be abnormally enlarged with rocky gauntlets, not seeming of technology but rather of supernatural origin.
Not only is the assailant superhuman, but the other three around him exhibit strange properties, as one of their bodies spark with bright cyan electrical arcs, another whose surrounded by floating pebbles followed by his power, and the last who has an array of metallic blades protruding down his exposed gray arms.
The cornered teen attempts to charge forwards, not with any inhuman powers of his own, only to then be grabbed by the thrower, to which the two wrestle grabbing at each other, their rags being lifted up their bodies, revealing their torsos to be disturbingly slim, exaggeratedly anorexically, both the victim boy but even the perpetrator.
However, inevitably the Exhuman trumps the boy, lifting him off the ground and throwing him straight into the dumpster, to which his three companies erupt in barbaric cheer as the powerless boy coughs out a burst of red blood. The boy collapses to the ground, curling up into a ball with wails as the four bullies loom in cheers.
Witnessing it all, Meditat’s curious face tightens into a ferocious glare, and he switches directions, instead marching towards the alley as he instinctively grabs the back of his black hood and brings it up to the top of his head.
Just as he’s about to throw the hood over his head, a slim hand grabs onto his wrist, suspending his action to which while still aggressively glaring he diverts his attention to the side where the oppositional hand comes from.
The trail leads to the long brown sleeve and ultimately to Ekitai, who stares back at him with a firm yet equally solemn look, his yellow eyes strict yet without understanding. Even without words, his message is clearly expressed, for Meditat’s anger warps into dismay, and he glances back at the same scene.
In the alley, where the boy lays and crawls below the four Exhumans, the bully laced with blades glances over at the group’s direction, as if somehow he sensed the attention.
The bully wears a hostile glare, as if silently expressing the dominance they have over the territory, and the mayhem caused if said dominance were to be challenged.
On the other side of the exchange, Meditat lets out a chagrinful sigh, lowering his head as well as his hand, relinquishing his grip over the hood which falls back behind his head. Simultaneously Ekitai releases his own hold, and he nods his head before returning his gaze ahead to take another sip, where they had to keep moving, unable to afford any divergences.
Long stretches of casual strolls and observation pass, for even in a singular cavern the city is quite impressive in size. That is to note however that while the population itself is untold, in truth the city still appears immensely desolate compared to other capital cities which feature skyscrapers that graze clouds and spread to the horizon.
The simple ability of an underground colony containing any sizeable population is impressive in its own right, but not even too far from one border of the city center, the group have already reached a more suburban region, similar to the one beyond their neighborhood where the buildings are more geometrically unkempt, the people are more sparse, and the volume is more gentle.
Approaching the target area more and more, the four voyage down the natural road, still in the same formation as prior, keeping close together especially the two women in the back albeit against one of their will’s as the two men in the front stay near but detached in their own worlds, concentrated on other aspects of the underground, meditating in their own thoughts.
As aforementioned there are less people in this area, although even those in the streets are not as mobile as those on the other side, for the majority of the inhabitants instead rest against the buildings, sitting or laying, with only a few actually roaming about.
The area is also not entirely exact to the former suburban zone, for the buildings are even shorter and given less refinement, with many walls littered with holes and breakages, and a far less sense of community as those inhabiting it lack interaction with another. There’s a greater rundown sense even compared to the rest of the city, many doors left open with no security or perceivable habitation, and even more litter of not only sticks but other bottles, packets, and boxes alike scattered around.
Those seated and lying on the edges of the roads cover themselves with their rags, their faces telling of varying ages from adults young and older, but also young teenagers and seniors old enough to have grandchildren. Only truly by their head shape and other subtle attributes such as eyes are these differing ages discernible, for all of them have the same gray, shriveled skin, all with the same miserable expressions.
The strange hollowness of the environment provides an ominous, eerie feeling, as the people around only feed such an aura, just scattered in place and staring at the group of four bluntly, watching them intently and tracking movements even with chillingly sedate head turns.
All of the idlers stare at the same group that being the four who continue to walk down the center of the majorly derelict road, their surveys met with alert glances from the woman in the blazer.
In a sense, they feel like predators in a jungle, watching their every step from the darkness, not reacting but only observing in silence. Especially with their inhuman appearances, rocky gray skin and abnormally shaped bodies, the world doesn’t feel very much like an Earth, but rather an alien planet.
Amongst the watchers is a man who sits against one of the buildings, his bald head lowered to face his lap which holds a suspicious object entirely concealed in heavy wrappings of rags, although with a general cylindrical shape. The man himself is not heavily covered himself however, for instead he lacks anything to cover his upper body, exposing his deformed breasts that almost warp inwards to the abdomen, an abdomen with a conspicuous ribcage nearly protruding from the thin bodily casing.
The passing of the two men of the group alert the man, who raises his head up in intrigue, his weary eyes blinking twice before examining the two. His head then naturally turns back to find the second half of the group, and his eyes expand in fascination.
Side by side the mature lady in the black blazer escorts the young lass in the white hoodie, following the rest of the group only a few feet behind. Both of them keep their heads up, just passing through the town on their way to their destination, getting closer but still a ways away, for it feels like they were passing through the entire cave just to get to where they needed to be; a tedious journey they had voluntarily joined.
As the two nearly pass the man sitting against the wall, that man watches them in particular with a strange infatuation, almost unnervingly.
Just before Kokei is about to pass the man, that man utters in a raspy voice, “You,” to which Kokei’s nearly startled, pausing and facing the man in intrigue to which he continues, “Your skin nice.”
Completely disoriented by the immensely bizarre comment with no response that can be calculated, Kokei just stands in place and tilts her head mystified, her long pink hair shifting with the turn of her head. Just purely stunned and unable to formulate a solid response, she stammers awkwardly, “Uhm…wha-,” before being completely interjected by Dana whom walks around and in front of her, forming a barrier with her own body before aiming her right hand at the man and instinctively transforming her forearm into her conal golden cannon, the grated barrel glaring golden with countless apertures primed to fire on the spot with a whir.
With a fierce glare through flaring golden irises, Dana boldly threatens, “Hey man, you wanna pick a fight with me instead, because all you deserve to get are these bolts, you pervert!”
Aimed head on at point blank range with the cannon, the man instantly shakes in petrification and instinctively curls forward, embracing the object on his lap tightly, using his own body to try covering it from the line of fire without protecting himself at all.
The golden cannon remains aimed straight for the head, whirred up and humming with the readiness to fire, the golden flares from each barrel lighting up the town already with even brighter flashes to come.
That is until a pale hand is gently placed on the cannon, over the grated barrels, which upon firing would strike that immediately.
Such a consequence doesn’t seem to be factored in however as instead the hand gently presses down on the cannon, lowering the arm away from the man’s body, down to the ground to which the cannon’s hum whimpers and softens.
At first shocked by the sudden involvement, Dana’s golden eyes expand from the interjection to which while still aggressively glaring she diverts his attention to the side where the oppositional hand comes from.
The trail leads to the long gray sleeve and ultimately to Meditat, who stands right beside her despite having been multiple feet ahead prior. He stares at her with a gentle, almost soothing expression, his mouth flat and his eyes soft.
Dana’s belligerence subdues to pure nebulousness, her eyes reverting green as her cannon remains aiming straight at the ground below her, pushed down by the hand which then is released and returned to the side of the man who prevented the scene.
She simply watches in silence as Meditat then changes his focus to the man on the ground, whom he proceeds to step forth to before then kneeling down in front of him.
In between the armed cyborg who stands still and the emaciated man who raises his head and loosens his embrace –also flummoxed–, Meditat gently places his hand over the wrappings, and pulls down as a light breeze blows his locks to the side.
By dragging down the rags from the top of the wrappings, the white hand reveals the face of a young person, visibly female by facial structure although hairless, her gray skin craggy as though it was on the verge of crumbling into a million pieces. By the size of her head she was distinctively an infant, yet rather than having plump cheeks hers were bony, similar to the man’s and all others they’ve passed in the underground.
The toddler however is unreactive, for instead she’s in deep sleep, her eyes closed but with short breaths coming in and out to verify her consciousness. In fact, she sleeps soundly, blissful and peaceful, despite nearly having been shot a few seconds ago.
In silence Meditat inspects the toddler, so young yet already in the state she’s in. His soft azure eyes just remain on the baby as the man carrying her gazes at him, and with stammers still frightened, he explains: “Not even a year old. Giving her all I can get. Unsure how long she will have me.”
Blown back from the heartbreaking revelation that makes her shiver, Dana staggers a step back as her arm reverts to its passive human form, relinquishing its lethality.
Gazing straight at the one who just saved him, the senile father’s eyes contract and he peers more intriguingly, almost evaluatively. He leans forward, his sunken cheeks glistening from the dim white lights of the town, his brown eyes seeking further inside.
In a voice that sounds on the border of being lost, the man examines, “Wait. Was wrong. Thought you were one of us. Know she is not. She is from surface. Not from here. Neither are you. But you not from surface.”
Staring back in a deep trance from the man’s strange remark, Meditat’s eyes expand as he watches more interested, almost entranced. His azure eyes glisten too in the light, his cheeks straight as normal, yet his skin peculiarly pale to such an inhuman extent, wrinkled and rough, almost withered leather like his jacket aged just the same. His white locks scarce to such extreme that he only has four locks of frail light hair, he is nearly at the extent of baldness and in fact to an extent that most others would simply advance past. Yet those final fragments remain, making him stand out even above those who are completely bald, and those fragments wave in the light wind.
He listens as the man continues, “We live in hell. This is our hell. We forced down here by men of other worlds. You also live in hell. But not our hell. Not from hell forced on you. You made your hell. You chose your hell. So what demon are you?”
Stunned in a maze, Meditat can hardly find words to piece together such a strangely introspective passage, one made by a man he presumed to not peer so deeply into his own. Still stumped, he opens his mouth in a desperate attempt to force words out for a response.
A voice speaks, although it is not his, but rather the raspy senile voice of his ally who retracts, “Hey, you said they’ll break your lock or whatever if they get enough time, right? Maybe we should get to wherever they are before they’re up in space cruising with our ride.”
Interrupted by the valid argument, Meditat’s mouth closes shut again, and he only musters a soft sigh through the nose, lowering his head with closed eyes in defeat yet again.
In front of the old father, Meditat stands back up to his feet, another breeze striking as he turns back to the one who spoke, waiting to follow by his side again with insistent yellow eyes, his open overcoat blowing back from the gust.
Meditat justly nods his head in acceptance, and he then glances back at the father one last time, looking down on the man who keeps his gaze up at him after posing quite a haunting question, one much deeper than the others might’ve realized.
Unable to answer that out loud exactly, he instead simply nods his head respectfully, and with that he obliges to the request, returning his gaze down the road which he begins to walk down again.
Ekitai is quick to follow, drink in hand, seeming to oddly be the voice of reason for this trip whereas now Meditat is the one being sidetracked.
Kokei is next to follow, still nebulous to the strange exchange, the odd remark followed by the intense threat then followed by the interjection that flipped the whole narrative multiple times until it left her in the center of a labyrinth. Thus the best way for her to escape is to simply ignore it, instead choosing to keep her attention on the mission at hand as her friend asserted, passing off the interaction as one to keep in the back of her mind.
Now the last, Dana just stands in front of the man with her head low, her amber bangs covering her eyes yet not her frown. To have acted with such aggression and even more stupidity brought a sea of shame, one that she may not have been reprimanded on, but one that would still sting even more so. The worst potential case being the reality, there is little she can do to remedy the situation herself, as her friend did it better than she could think of, and now all she could do is leave it be. Hence she only gives a light nod too, although for a different reason than her friend, and she heads off, following the rest down the road.
Ergo through the town the four resume their journey, led by Meditat who’s joined from the side by Ekitai, both of them guiding Kokei who follows next to Dana. The group walk down the town, passing the other residents who just stare at them in silence, stalking their every movement while staying in the shadows of the seedy dirt home they were locked inside.
They walk past the hole-ridden and combusted walls, the litter of used sticks and bottles, of packets and other commodities designed to be merely luxurious additions to a full life rather than an exclusive diet. They keep going past the hell they know they’re in, one that they could easily be drowned inside for lifetimes, full of more stories all staring at them from every direction.
Every member of the group knew full well the eyes on them, yet none of them bat back, none of them show reaction, instead all of their attention is locked to one key target.
Forward.
Forward to the end of town.
Forward to their destination.
Forward to their one ticket out.
A ticket out of this hell.
And a ticket to the next.
Up above the cavern vault.