Stepping through the silently hollow steps of East Power, making their way through the hallways down to the basement level, was Fang and Siegella. The halls were cold and the air was stagnant. The calm atmosphere was almost unnerving, and if it wasn’t for the fact that they had already dealt with an ambush, they would’ve certainly been on edge, expecting one.
Using one shoulder each, they carried the unconscious body of Vincent, who even though he was nowhere near awake, Fang could see an abnormal amount of mental waves emanating from him. Upon starting at the ripples in the air, Fang couldn’t help but let out a small smile.
Turning his attention toward Siegella, Fang broke the silence. “I told you he was something else,” they commented. “You just didn’t believe me”
Still marked by grazes, cuts, and bruises, the damaged face of Siegella rolled her eyes and responded, “You’re right, but that wasn’t my judgment. Archard didn’t care for the kid, so why should I?”
They both turned the corner and descended down and rapidly sloping floor. There was very little light within the halls, and even the bits of scattered bulbs that were occasionally placed on the walls flickered every few seconds.
“Well, I think his tune is changing,” Fang replied. “He seems to be very interested in him now.”
Without missing a beat, Siegella said, “If that’s the case, then I’ll care for the kid now, too.”
Fang let out a bit of a solemn chuckle. “Always so loyal, huh? Must be nice.”
They then continued to walk in silence, letting the now dampening air oppress any conversation between them. They remained within that quiet space, planting one foot in front of another, occasionally staggering due to their sustained injuries.
While they didn't speak, Fang continued to think solely about Vincent. His thoughts bordered on parasocial fascination. They knew that he was going to be an interesting figure—after all, their father was interested in him, and if his father was interested in someone, then it had to be important. Still, he couldn't help but be drawn to him past the point of duty. There was some kind of invisible force that continued to draw their attention toward the Maryland kid. It was a type of feeling that hadn’t crossed Fang’s mind before, or maybe it did and they just pushed those away before in the past. It wouldn't surprise them if that reaction was drilled into them by their father from a young age—a lot of things already had been. Still, the mere existence of Vincent caused an unknown conflict within their mind, and they couldn’t quite figure out what it was. All they knew was that it tugged at them from two sides, fighting to fully immerse Fang in one side or the other…and they couldn’t commit to either.
Eventually, Fang and Siegella began to hear the sound of running engines, and the scenery slowly shifted. Gone were the blank walls of stone and steel, replaced now with wires, doors, and all sorts of mechanical contraptions. The looming silence that hung over them both was now filled with a droning, electrical hum. In front of them, contradicting the dark hallways they had been wandering through, was a room filled with beaming light.
As they cautiously peered into the approaching room, they saw dozens of spinning generators, spewing steam into large, iron pipes that ran into the walls and presumably to the outside world. An uncountable number of wires and wire bundles ran all throughout the room, mostly coming in and out of the generators. Hundreds of heavy-duty and sun-like lights were affixed to the walls and ceiling, illuminating every square inch of the room.
However, the one thing that stuck out from the room was a figure of a pacing man, looking down at the ground. The moment that Fang and Sieglella entered the room, bringing the sound of the footsteps with them, the man snapped his head in their direction.
“It’s about you…” the man suddenly exclaimed before doing a double take. “Oh, uh, it’s about time you got here.”
“What’s with the look of surprise, Larry?” Fang asked.
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Larry coughed and jovially replied, “Oh nothing, I’m just surprised it took you so long to beat up those nasty Aries people.”
“Oh, piss off, Larry,” Siegella half-angrily, half-annoyingly said. “It would’ve gone faster if you didn’t act like a coward.”
“You call it cowardice, I call it intelligence,” Larry countered. “Besides, I’m not a fighter by any means. If anything, if I would’ve stayed up there, I would have just been a liability.”
Both of them glared at each other for a few seconds before Fang interrupted. “Now, now,” they said in a calming manner, “let’s not start another fight. Lord knows we don’t have the energy for one right now.”
“True,” Siegella hesitantly agreed.
“Fair enough,” Larry stated. His eyes then shifted focus to the unconscious body of Vincent. “What’s with him? Pass out from the pressure?”
“Quite the opposite, really,” Siegella answered, laying Vincent’s body on the ground. She then took a deep sigh of relief. “Unlike you, he stayed and fought with everything he had. In fact, if it wasn’t for him, Iro probably would’ve killed us.”
Larry’s eyes widened for just a second before returning to how they were. Quickly glancing up at Siegella, Larry asked, “What do you mean by that?”
Stretching her arms and neck, she replied, “This kid has some interesting powers—some of the strongest I’ve seen in a long time. Not only that, but in the heat of battle, he managed to learn how to resonate. Although, his skills are still quite rough around the edges.
“Really…” was all Larry could say, now longingly staring at Vincent’s body.
“Alright, that’s enough talk about that,” Fang suddenly said with a clap, breaking the feel of the atmosphere. “We still have a job to complete! Larry,” they said, looking up at the still-staring man, “what can you tell us about these generators? How do we stop them?”
Larry shook his head, seemingly snapping back to reality, and said, “Oh, uh, there’s a couple of different ways we can go about it. The first is the systemically unplug each of them, cutting the vital internals of each generator. Or—”
“Or we can do it the Libra way,” Fang interrupted, summoning their Electronic Eyes.
“That works, too,” Larry sighed.
“Alright, then, let’s get to work.”
***
A male figure, cloaked in shadows, moaned as his body struggled to wake up. His eyes felt like they were cemented shut, his muscles were rigidly tense, and his mind was nothing but hazy. All of these things made it nearly impossible for him to awaken—but he eventually did.
When his eyes did open, he only saw a foggy image of light, mixed with a blur of color. There was a single, illuminated orb above him, surrounded by a faint rainbow that encircled it. Knowing that he had to wipe his eyes to see more clearly, he tried to reach his hands to his head.
But his body didn’t move. No, that wasn’t quite right. His body couldn’t move. There was nothing around him that constrained his movements—his body just refused to work. His muscles didn’t flex, his nerves felt very little, and his throat was parched, making it hard to swallow.
In fact, the only thing that he could feel was his mind continually firing off fuzzy and incomplete thoughts. Nothing made sense, and the more he thought about it, the more his head responded in pain. He wasn’t sure if the thoughts were painful or if the pain he felt stemmed from the act of recalling them. Or perhaps it was due to an external force that he couldn’t remember.
As he let the uncertainty plague his mind, a single memory resurfaced. The only thing familiar in that memory was that of a raging fire. That thought alone heated up his cold, still body to the point where he could begin to feel himself again.
Minutes went by, and the numbness gradually faded from him. When he managed to build up enough strength, he sat up. He rubbed his eyes, and his sight began to adjust.
He realized that he was laying on a cot in a small room. The walls were wooden and barely lit up by the single bulb above him. There were no windows or any other exits in the room other than the door on the other side. The only other thing within the room was the tiny nightstand next to the bed. Laying on that stand, there was a single handwritten note that read:
Lay low for now
Don’t answer anything
Do not leave
Rest and recover
I’ll be back
- L