Gentle resonance of the rainfall passed through the window suppressed, falling from the expansive dark storm clouds ensnaring the whole sky, filtered with a colorless base. The storm wasn’t particularly violent, for there were no flashes in the sky, no fanfares of crackles and crashes, just the soothing yet numbing pattern of the soft rain.
Quite the melancholic sight could be witnessed through the oval window screen shaped similarly to a human eye, integrated into the overall white smooth rounded wall of the interior.
In fact, the entire flat white wall of the room was rounded in a dome including the window screen amongst all others off in the distance, the screens hardly providing light which instead was offered dully by the white walls that present a nearly fluorescent experience that surrounded the space in uniform lighting.
Verily exclusively that which casted shadows in the room were the hovering white tabletops spread above the white floor, tables along the walls but also scattered amongst the open space by hovering stools but also other strange equipment, tall white capsules with arrays of green dots and spherical incubators to name a few.
On the tables but even most constructs with a relatively flat surface were litters of small gear: piles of diversely colored square plates, light brown pouches, gray wands and yellow sponges but with such high density of miscellaneous items unsorted it all amalgamated into simply a mess of shapes and colors.
Ironically there was a scarcity of clean tables, with one of those minor exceptions housing not physical weighty items but rather a curved green holographic monitor which swept over the edges of the rounded table, maintaining the concentration of the only visible person in the entire room who was seated on a complementary levitating chair. The person, who was an adult female, wore a professional white collared shirt underneath a black blazer with green buttons, complemented with a forest green skirt and black stockings.
Her black heels quietly tapped on the white floor as she intently studied the green screen through her own light green eyes under her short amber hair which only had accumulated minor bangs.
Those bangs weren’t long enough to impede sight however, as her eyes darted around the screen rapidly, for she was visibly entrenched in her work, leaning forwards even at the expense of relinquishing back support.
Before her the curved green monitor housed a cluster of various rectangular windows, many of which displayed long documents, some poured with endless essays and others smeared with complicated flow charts and spreadsheets.
One of the spreadsheets in particular was being continuously updated with new writing in previously empty cells, and concurrently with the sheet update several flow charts and graphs also on screen updated towards the end, the result of her current work.
The spreadsheets were hardly comprehensible given the distant zoom which allowed for a better understanding of the sheer scale of the sheet, one that the woman was drowning in from the very bottom.
All alone the woman typed away at her work, alone on the white floor which was not actually a base floor but instead a vast arced balcony, one of a series for there were more curved balconies of the same shape above and below the one the woman worked in, the balconies below being wider and the ones above being tighter, sized proportionally to the overall room’s shape that being a monumental dome similar to an observatory.
The entire observatory was a bland white; the walls, the floors, the tables, for there were hardly any unique colors beyond the piles of gear and the green screen at the end. All of the window screens spread around the dome wall didn’t very well help combat the monotony, for they all only could show the gray clouds covering up the sky, leaving the entire colossal space to be primarily shades of lifeless gray, the only sounds being the gentle rainfall accompanied by the heel taps which echo throughout the vast room ghostly.
Eternally typing away at the bottomless pit of the spreadsheet, the woman maintained focus despite there being a surplus dictionary of events and activities infinitely more boisterous than this, and yet even so she couldn’t attend to any of those alternatives. Although it was her choice to work somewhere so reclusive, a definite factor to the hollow atmosphere, she had to apply herself to the extreme with all that was going on, a precarious situation leading to a stressful workload that she had to bear in silence, one only she could know she was in.
At such limits of her pressure, the woman eventually reached her boiling point in which the typing suspended and she expelled a heavy fatigued breath before collapsing forward on her desk, catching her head with her elbows in an abrupt breakdown that left her on the table.
Her voice now muffled by her arms and seemingly solitudinous, she released a titanically greater sigh, bordering on a scream or yelp, which echoed throughout the whole empty room before gradually dissipating.
Through her own eyes first squeezed shut leaving only darkness in her vision, the woman rested for a few moments in the silence, drained and drenched. However she could not rest forever regardless of the fact she would much prefer such, leading to a much quieter groan of introspective surrender given her short break was up.
After the efficient breakdown, the woman opened her eyes and gradually raised her head up from the nest she had made with her sleeves, initially staring down at the white table’s surface and her own arms before then apprehensively rotating her head back up to return her gaze to the screen where her work was.
Upon moving her vision to align with the screen, she found strangely that the screen was split in half, both ends pushed outwards, their edges not even properly above the table’s surface, all to reveal in between the standing of an adult latino man with longish unkempt black hair draped to his nape and azure eyes, dressed in a black leather biker jacket with silver accents and lines along the sleeves and torso accompanied with a resting black hood. The man stared directly back into the woman’s gaze with a mixture of concern and judgment above the dark eyebags embedded into his skin.
Immediately from the jumpscare the woman thrusted herself backwards, her chair sliding away from the table towards the wall before she clamped herself with her foot, halting the chair with wide eyes and a dropped jaw as she exclaimed in an unsuppressed shout: “MEDIT?!?!?!?!?”
Reactively the man glanced around the room visibly agitated by the blunt reveal–his black hair swaying from side to side–, now needing to confirm the privacy between him and her. After a swift reconnaissance he confirmed the safety to which he sighed in relief to what could’ve become immediately a horrendous situation, and he then returned his gaze back to the woman before huffing and lecturing, “Dana, volume.”
Negligent to the man’s concerns, the woman propelled herself off her chair and towards him with swift strides as she extended both arms out in an invitation for an embrace, immediately pouncing his way.
Just as she began to wrap her arms around however, oddly the man took a step back, evading the embrace with his hands remaining in his pockets. As a result the woman was left empty handed, her arms wrapping around in the followthrough but with nobody in her embrace, just empty space.
Speechless in a mixture of astoundment and bewilderment to what had just happened, the woman just widely stared blankly with a gaping mouth, struggling to process what abstract aberration had just transpired.
Right in front of her, just inches from her grasp, stood the man who just stared back at her with a peculiar expression, one majorly deadpan and flat and yet with a slight dreary tint in his eyes above a subtle frown.
Betrayed out in the open of the battlefield and coming to comprehend the dreadful awkwardice of the interaction as discernible by the reddening of her cheeks, the woman desperately rebounded by straightening her posture and returning her arms to the side.
Furthermore, in an attempt to bury that last moment by seeking a solution with the movement of her eyes, the woman giggled awkwardly before mentioning, “I uh, I just never thought I’d see you like this again. It’s felt so long since it happened…it was everywhere on the news…and I haven’t seen you since and my messages weren’t going through, I thought they were right and I just…,” but her voice began to taper as she began to inspect the man’s attire, specifically the leather jacket he was wearing.
Initially the woman wore a perplexed face upon noticing the peculiar choice of style, however that perplexion morphed into sentimental worriment upon the revelation of its origin, and the implication of him wearing it.
Her eyes began to slightly water as she raised her gaze back to the man and understood, “Oh my there must be so much on your mind, so much has happened for you I haven’t even talked to you in a while but there must be so much on your chest now. Wait here, here.”
She then turned towards the chair that she had launched herself off of prior, and gestured to it by pointing to the chair and curling her fingers towards herself. That gesture then in turn caused the chair to begin moving automatically, drifting forth and moving around the table to reach the other side swiftly.
The chair drifted up to the woman before halting and resting, levitating right beside her and in front of the man, rotated to face him.
The woman then softly pointed to the chair with an open hand and offered delicately, “You can take this, god I can’t even imagine what’s been going on around you, I mean they’ve declared you deceased, have you seen what’s been going on around here, the entire Earth is having an uproar. There’s been constant protests and-, wait no sorry you may talk.”
Silently the man stared at the chair offered to him for a solid multitude of seconds, leaving the woman to awkwardly stand beside it and wait. He just stared at it with half-open, tired eyes, frowning despite the gift.
He then raised his head to the woman before gently shaking his head in decline to another proffer, rejecting: “I’m fine, actually I wanted to ask you how the people here have been managing; status report.”
Again taken aback by the second rejection with even more unease in her frown, the woman froze up for a few seconds before shaking her head and realigning herself. Once more needing to readjust herself from an awkward pause, the woman nodded her head and fumblingly reported, “Oh…okay…well uhm, actually none of them have even noticed you’re gone, your secret identity hasn’t been linked and they’re none the wiser. I’ve been doing my best to manage as much of what I can, trying to get enough done so it looks like you’re still here, giving my best excuses to ward off visitors. I wasn’t sure if it’d ever end in fact I wasn’t even sure if I was doing the right thing. But I didn’t know what else to do…god I’m so glad you’re here…you have no idea how much I’ve- we’ve needed you, It’s good to have you back, sir-.”
“About that,” the man responded as he lowered his head, breaking eye contact momentarily and leaving the woman dumbfounded once more, her calm expression collapsing already.
The man then turned and raised his head, not to her but to the eye window screen, staring out to the quiet storm, the gray skies that poured the raindrops audible from inside.
His gaze obstructed from hers, he revealed: “I’m not returning.”
From dumbfounded to horrified, the woman quietly gasped with an open jaw, her eyes expanded fully as her entire body was jolted in shock.
Instantly she sprang towards the man, demanding bewildered, “Wait, what??”
His sights still misaligned from hers, the man elaborated, “I’m not returning to the office, I’ve already written up my forms for resignation so you won’t need to cover for me.”
Straining to even process the destructive news dropped right on her blissful optimism–leaving it shattered in sharp fragments– the woman began to hyperventilate, breathing heavily and turning her head from side to side, her eyes bouncing everywhere in search of a response after being left speechless.
She eventually struck her answer and returned her sights to the man before then insisting, “Wait, you can’t just…but…wait but…but Medit, you’re the C.E.O, you can’t just…like…this is so sudden-. I mean like…but this is everything…I mean I understand if you need a break for some time and I can hold everyone off for you until you’re ready but like…I don’t understand…I mean what are we supposed to even do…we don’t really have any runner ups I mean sure there are potentials but nothing decided on so who would we-,”
“You, Dana,” he answered, his head turned to hers, and with that her mouth clamped shut.
An entire five seconds passed with not a word passed from either of the two who only stared back at each other frozen, for only the sound of the distant rainfall resonated in the room. Beside them on the wall the abundant drops of rain fall with such speed it’s as if they just flash, light up and vanish, gone the moment they’re seen. Gone before they can be held. Gone before they can be felt.
Abruptly the woman leapt backwards, as though the simple two word response alone repulsed her physically, her body jolting uncontrollably from that bare answer.
Yet opposite from her there was no reaction, for the man just stood still with his hands in his pockets, staring monotonously at her with the same subtle frown.
Instead the woman nervously giggled as her body wavered from side to side, loosened defensively as if going mad. She pointed her hand at the man and lightly remarked, “Heh, Medit it’s been so long, your humor cut me off for a second there.”
But there was no reaction, no relinquishment of the facade, no drop of the mask, no change in expression. The man just silently stared straight at the woman with stern, cold eyes, not a single glint of sarcasm even remotely by his field. Just his sharp, straight azure eyes on his soft face bruised with bags.
If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.
Aghast, the woman strided forth and threw her arms forward in the following appeal, “You can’t be serious, Medit if you want me to try to get a board election going quickly I will but…I can’t be the one…there are at least people of relative qualification, I can’t run this entire company I mean I’ve hardly been keeping up now as is.”
Through the window screen the man faced towards as the woman just blankly stared at him, their eye contact ruptured once more. The man just gazed softly, blinking occasionally but with slow, lagged blinks.
Eyeing the window the man noted, “That was because as I said, you were trying to cover for me, but with my resignation you won’t be taking two jobs. As C.E.O you will also be equipped with full authority of the company meaning access to any assets needed, and the board will assist you as you have done for me all this time. To be honest, Dana, it really isn’t all that much work, if anything you already do more than you would at the top.”
Despite being denied eye contact, the woman threw her arms and pleaded again insistently, “Medit please that’s bullshit, there’s nobody in this company who works even a fraction you do! And you know so much more about the ins and outs, about who does what, where to go and when things happen, I mean you basically are the company, I don’t have that sort of flow down. Come on Medit, when I said nobody noticed you were gone that’s only because it hasn’t really been long enough for them to feel the decline, in just a year everyone will feel the effects of your absence, I mean I can try maintaining what you have but I couldn’t create what you would. Please…reconsider this…it’s just wrong.”
“Please, Dana,” he delicately pleaded.
To that, the woman again is caught off guard in shock to such a drastic change in tone from what firstly felt almost nonchalant to what nearly felt like a miserable beg.
In front of the woman the man faced her once again, his frown just slightly deeper, his azureous eyes open and shimmering, his expression explicitly dreary, anguished.
Again, he entreated almost in a whisper, “Just…tell me you’ll take it…. It’s all I ask of you….”
Face to face the man and woman stood normal to the eye window screen projecting the dark stormy sky, the source of the gentle rainfall. The white light emitting from the whole dome wall brightened both of them, the assistant with green eyes and amber hair dressed in the black blazer, and the old leader with azure eyes and black hair dressed in the black biker.
They stood still before one another, silent enough that the rainfall was perfectly audible to them both even muffled from outside. The greatest promotion of a lifetime, a milestone that many would cherish as the moment that brought their life to a height greater than they could imagine, yet no such sense of victory was present.
“I’ll…I’ll take it….”
After getting what he specifically requested, the most the man could give was an exhale sigh presumably of relief but it wasn’t easily indicative. His frown slightly raised, although it doesn’t even manage to flatten, and even at that it was only held for a few moments before it fell back to previously.
He nodded his head with a blink and followed up softly, “Thank you, I’ll have it officialized in the coming weeks then, I’ll give you some time to make your preparations.”
Promptly then the man pivoted towards the window and pivoted again with his back to the woman before taking a step away, beginning his departure suddenly.
Immediately however the woman lunged forth and extended her arm out, yelping: “Wait!” to which the man promptly froze in place only a few steps away, and pivoted again to turn towards her with a puzzled glance.
Now drowned in awkwardice after the instinctual move, the woman reclined back with a backstep next to the chair. She then placed one hand over the back of the chair and offered once again with her head lowered embarrassed, “Can we…just talk for a bit? It’s been so long since I’ve seen you and…after everything that happened…like…I’m your assistant so you…well…what I mean to say is…I’m just asking if you want to talk….”
Past the woman’s shoulder stood the man frozen, staring straight back at her his body pivoted normal, half facing her half away. A bewildered look stuck to his face, his eyes expanded slightly in moments of contemplation.
His eyes then contracted as his expression became stern, and he ultimately shook his head before declining, “Sorry, there are assignments I must attend to, I don’t have the time.”
On one side stood the woman who raised her head to the man on the other side before then lowering it back again even lower, sighing in defeat. In a whisper she muttered, “I see…never mind then….”
Followingly the man completed his pivot not towards but away, resuming his departure and leaving towards the edge of the level balcony, away from the woman whose hand slipped off the chair to her side.
On his way towards the end of the balcony, the man abruptly halted and paused for a few moments to ponder, his head down as though his decisions while seemingly firm were being questioned. He stared at the ground where his feet were, meditating, the back of his head covered with his long black hair rich yet messy.
He then raised his head and turned around to face the woman, whose head was still down. He frowned, still paused for a few more extended moments of pondering before finally sighing with a decision.
The man mentioned offhand, “Also, I have noticed the commotion on the streets as of late, spikes in criminal activity from both sides, I intend to amend the corollary. I’ve specifically been encountering this group that call themselves the ‘Watchdogs,’ only sparse instances however I imagine it may grow in time. I’m not sure if you’ve heard of them or not, I understand it has been rather chaotic out there as of late.”
Instantly the woman’s head thrust upwards to meet eye to eye with the man, her green irises shimmering in awe to the unforeseen tangent that almost felt like a natural opportunity, her mouth hanging open dumbfounded as her mind combed for answers as depending on her response it could drastically change the future of their partnership if there would be one at all.
Swiftly the woman then nodded her head and answered rather hastily, “I might have, but uh, if you need any help with anything like, you know I guess if you want help with plans or ideas or whatnot I can- I will make myself available as best as I can,” before pushing out a soft smile to the best of her abilities.
Forwarded with the proposition, the man froze for a few seconds in interpretation before he then nodded his head and thanked, “Appreciated, I’ll make contact if needed,” before finally turning forward again, and resuming his walk, this time conclusively as he walked further and further from the woman who stood still, watching him make his way towards the ethereally white cliff by the center of the observatory to make his descent.
Blankly the man gazed into the void, his azure eyes half open and dull, the frown remained on his face, his long black hair waving back and forth with unkempt strands poking out and in chaotically. He ambled slowly towards the cliff devoid of life in his eyes, making his way out of the headquarters he had run for so much of his life. Well behind him remained the woman standing still, just watching in silence with her arms by her side, facing him while maintaining the smile although it noticeably wavered.
Once more alone in the observatory stood the woman, solitudinous in the vast white space, dressed in her black blazer with short amber hair tucked well away from her light green eyes that face a single direction. Behind her was the gray eye window, the rain still continuing to drop hard nonstop, for while nonviolent it was persistent.
The woman fought to maintain her smile, although more and more it wavered and tweaked until ultimately it collapsed into a frown, a frown that immediately cemented itself on her face and remained for the duration of her watch, her watch into the vast void that her friend was walking straight into, a vast void that she couldn’t pull herself into. She could only just stand there and watch with shimmering eyes, for while on that very day she had gotten her greatest promotion, she had also lost her most valuable asset, as even the minor salvage made felt no more than a coping volitional deceit. That day was the beginning of the descent, a long, slow, excruciating descent.
That very same pose of that very same woman of the very same eyes and very same hair color remains the same so many years later on when that woman now stands past the hole in the dirt wall, staring off into the void longingly with the same blazer but long black leggings and an informal tank top rather than collared shirt; her hair now being longer with distinguished bangs that wave from the cavernous breeze, she stares with that same frown into the darkness.
Her pose remains, her body having noticeably changed with maturation, wiser yet visibly fatigued over the years as a certain youthful charm seems to have dwindled in time. Yet regardless of the changes the years have made to her, the same look persists from so long ago, a look of hopelessness in knowing the dark times ahead.
She does not move but for her amber bangs being nudged by the wind, frozen in time amongst the silence of the breeze, a silence that is complemented by a distant echo, one that is then repeated a second time slightly louder, and then again even louder but with a heightened clarity that resembles that of a female voice, and then again louder and clearer and louder and clearer until the distinct voice of her ally calls out, “Dana!”
That voice originates from further past the wall and inside the dirt house, specifically inside the kitchen distinguished with the dirt blocks functioning as counters, precisely from the young woman in the white and pink cupcake hoodie whose arms rest on the countertop, her body leaned forwards but her head raised towards the woman staring out into space. Next to her is the senile man in the brown overcoat, his back leaning against the wall in a meditative trance, holding a flask half filled with purple liquid which he shakes lightly, letting the liquid slosh around in containment.
The woman referred to, Dana, turns her head to face the two in the kitchen upon catching the callout, her eyebrow raising disoriented before being swiftly assimilated back into the present. She nods her head and turns her body before approaching the two with smooth steps, passing the hollow living room where their fourth ally was last seen.
Upon Dana’s arrival to the counter that has become the meeting point of the remaining three allies, she shakes her head and reports somberly, “Sorry, I couldn’t get him in a scan, he’s went ghost on the channel and even on our tracking networks which he isn’t supposed to do…those were for emergencies in case something happened to the other…. He hid his tracks well, I have no clue where he could’ve gone.”
Lightly Kokei sighs in defeat, planting her face into her arms to ponder an alternative strategy while beside her Ekitai quietly jesters, “It would be sort of funny if he actually proved me wrong and just rode out on his own, I mean it would suck for us but like…in a narrative way it’d be funny, like it’d be comical y’know?”
Regardless of the lucid skin of the joke made, Dana shakes her head and still argues, “He wouldn’t leave us here, not in a million years. He’s somewhere here alright, I know he is. I know him.”
“Do you though,” subtly mutters Ekitai before then taking a swig from his flask, to which Kokei’s head immediately springs up with shot eyes that she stares shocked at him with as she reprimands shakingly, “Hey come on, don’t be like that.”
Glared at by both Kokei and Dana after the controversial statement, Ekitai pulls his flask off of his lips and loudly burps before realigning his gaze still at Dana and proceeding bluntly, “I mean that really, are you sure you know him? I take it you always knew his relationship with Exitium, I could tell from when you first saw him so familiarly back at the manor; and it’s kinda funny looking back at it that really from the second I met you; you were actually hiding his entire identity for that whole time, like I mean to be honest it’s actually commendable how far you went to keep us from knowing. I mean hell you seem to have way more history and in comparison it’s like we just met him yesterday, I know I wouldn’t tell you everything I know about Kookie here even if you had me blacked out. But now that Kokei here shot the cat in the bag so charitably I have to ask, how much do you actually know? Like I’m a bit intrigued, why does he look so different from his twin?”
Astounded by the sudden assault of both Dana and Kokei, the latter of whom whisperingly protests, “Please…I wasn’t trying to-,” before Dana overpowers her by answering, “To be completely honest Ekitai, I thought that was just natural of him. It’s no news that Meditat is…a unique Exhuman, and I’m not just referring to his base abilities having the greatest potential of any others recorded. I mean Meditat has the highest concentration of Exmatter in his system as does his brother compared to any naturally occurring Exhuman logged to date, he’s impervious to his own Anti-Exmatter, and even from the start of his career he’s been able to overpower other Exhumans when psychically assaulted which could be explained by his greater concentration. That being said I had assumed that perhaps an unfortunate ramification for this anomaly was a bodily degradation, I thought there was a chance his body was struggling to contain all that Exmatter since it just isn’t normal. To be frank back on Earth 3, that was the first I had seen Exitium’s face in the last decade so I assumed he had the same degradation, but now knowing that is not the case…I don’t know..it has been troubling me, I’m sorry but I really do not have a confident answer. From what I remember the most frequent genuine circumstances where a body has aged in any similar state to him has been usually from long term abuse of enhancement drugs, but I know that is not the case either so I wouldn’t know.”
After taking another casual swig from the flask and releasing another burp, Ekitai nonchalantly queried, “How do you know it can’t be that?” and yet again Kokei’s eyes expand and she reaches her hand out to him while muttering gently, “Listen to what you’re sayi-,” before Dana crosses her arms over her chest and shakes her head before delivering her rebuttal: “You’ve been around him too Ekitai, come on, he’s the biggest anti drug advocate to be born in these hundred worlds, he has literally committed his life to shutting them down. I don’t know what is happening to him, but it’s not that.”
To the strong argument Ekitai simply sways his flask from side to side before then leaning his bald head against the dirt composite wall and releasing a heavy sigh as both Kokei and Dana stare at him in anticipation.
Through his eyes Ekitai gazes at the brown dirt ceiling of the house, not substantially high either as all of the residences were rather low, close enough to inspect pristine details of individual clusters of rocks and grains of dirt.
Gently he reflects, “You’re right about one thing, I’ve been around him for a while now, more than enough for me to tell he’s an addict to something. He has that…I don’t know how to describe it…don’t get the wrong idea and start screaming at me but he has the look of trash…of filth....”
“It’s the same look many of us addicts have…,” Ekitai meditates head up, his yellow irises glistening from the soft ambient light, his pupils restful and wide. His voice wasn’t argumentative, it wasn’t very blunt either, if anything it almost came off as sentimental.
Only more bewildered now by a message encoded complicatedly by Ekitai’s fluctuating attitudes, Dana lowers her head and gently sighs. She shakes her head and raises it back to meet the two, and takes a step towards the table before slamming her right hand down on the dirt countertop, startling Kokei enough to make her leap upright and pull Ekitai’s attention back down to her.
Now with the attention of them both, Dana firmly declares, “Look okay, I don’t know what you’re on about but one thing is for certain: we need to find Medit. He’s not one to make a bold move like this lightly, there’s always a sense of finality when he does and I don’t know what that means in this case but I don't like it. I know he wouldn’t just leave us targeted so best bet is he’s somewhere in this cave, so I’m going out to find him.”
His gaze still at the ceiling unchanged, Ekitai points out dubiously, “Even if you’re right, these cave colonies are massive, if you can’t pluck him with a scanner I don’t know how you intend to find him besides combing through every single building and alley here.”
“Then maybe I’ll do that,” boldly retorts Dana before she launches herself off the table, leaning upright and returning her arm to her side. She pivots and glimpses over to the gaping hole in the wall that had yet to be patched, and now very likely won’t at all.
Again her gaze fixates longingly, for she very well comprehended Ekitai’s valid warnings, and almost ignorantly she still chose past them.
Shimmering Dana’s green eyes are on her anxious face, her lips parted slightly as a brief gust enters into the house and parts her amber bangs.
Behind her Ekitai takes one more at his flask, chugging belligerently until absolute completion with such haste that it leaves behind a purple stain on his mouth. With the sleeve of the arm holding the flask he wipes his mouth clean before then venting a reluctant groan which catches Kokei’s attention.
“Now you’re substituting as the voice of stupidity,” he mutters before tossing himself forth off the wall upright. He steps forward as Kokei reactively stands up too, unfolding her arms down to her side in anticipation, watching him stash his flask in his overcoat’s bottomless pocket and following up, “Well I want to be there to give him a slack on the head and you probably knew I’d come anyways.”
Kokei blinks twice and then lowers her head, running her hands through her long pink strands of hair while recalling, “Right…and I still need to…yeah.”
Both of the others’ verdict made, Dana turns back around to face them; her expression firstly visibly desperate and concerned, Dana shows relief and confidence with the transformation to an intentful stern that washes over her face before then delivering a nod and a gentle “Thanks you guys.”
She then turns back towards the exit of the house as another gust of wind blows her hair back head on, yet fretless she stares straight through the assault.
Blazing those green irises are now, glistening with determination, primed to search every inch of the cave if that’s what was called for.