The world was lost.
Shadowed.
Swallowed…
By a mountain nothing could ever surmount.
Yet still promised a way. A path. A hope.
Something beyond that mountain that survives. Something beyond this hell spilled out. That stained its shores yet did not spread further.
And yet this… this towering wall looming across the horizon meant nothing. Because Seth couldn’t have imagined that this was what it took to keep his debt taken on from rising further.
From rising to crush him too deep to ever see the light again.
It was bigger than any building he’d ever seen in person or on TV, not quite skyscraper but way too big to just be plopped down where it was. In the middle of a town no bigger than his, if not so much smaller. Rendered a flattened nothingness for daring to challenge that which took its place over it. And horrifyingly stained itself with that town’s entrails. A gradient of silver and grey metal up to its rim shining as the sun rose high, but then flaking to black desiccation all the way to its base. To the impenetrable darkness splattering out from where it seemed to land and crush everything before it.
But awe struck and fatigue addled exaggeration gave way to the mundane. As mundane as there could be anymore. Along its top Seth could see some kind of machinery leaning over that stained front, like turrets still smoking trails into the sky. Twin rotors on either side of them daring more come. Though alongside there were platforms, spaced a far distance from each other along the wall’s absurd continuous length. They jutted out over the edge and had thick struts keeping up a relatively thin plate. He could make out someone on the nearest platform as there was no railing or lip covering it. In fact it seemed like it was made of glass, or something see-through. He could only barely make out people on the wall proper, seeing little more than heads move about over the lip. Make out shouts from them as the wind died down from its rumbled beginnings.
The ground before all of this though was blasted and almost unrecognizable as land. This town that bore a new wonder onto the world, was now little more than rubble. Every surface the wall could see, pockmarked with holes and scars. Bullets and shrapnel and whatever else was fired down upon it. Though… now looking around… there was more than that. Holes, claw marks, dug outs and caves in the rubble. Dark spaces burrowed into every place they could be. Darkness… that almost stared out at him.
Seth was frozen by what he had just walked into, the devastation and the relief countering each other. All lost in the realization that he had to somehow get over that. Get to that. But, despite the weight now seen pure, despite the cost seeming to scream silently in his face, he couldn’t just stand here and gawk. He had to keep moving. He had to move.
Quiet as he could be, desperate as he should be, slowly as he could allow himself. Frantic scanning finding each dark hole, crevice, and still standing doorway. Possibilities running rampant, his heart beating his chest apart. Only a few feet into town he was startled by louder shouting from the wall. He couldn’t make it out, but it was drowned away by the beat in his ears. Had they spotted him? Could they even send help to get him? He scanned the wall, but still couldn’t make out a sign. He could only hope, but that was thinning. Proving the terminal condition he’d walked himself into.
He inched forward more and more, avoiding loose pieces of rubble and debris, avoiding every noise no matter how small. But only using up what time he had left.
His breaths were shallow, held, and burning. His feet creaking the ache they lived in with every hesitated step. His grip on that walking stick tight enough to bleed yet waning across every muscle. The gravity of just what he had undertaken, only halfway to the wall but still in the dead center of the town, was already becoming too much to bear.
Finally a haggard breath stopped him, needing more air than he could manage. Exhaustion long kept at bay taking hold in the face of a truth. That… was the last of the power he had. Used up… to get barely a few hundred feet.
The weight of his body, that same drifting pull downward from so long ago. The Garkah were more distant than they’d ever been. He couldn’t feel what they felt anymore, but he knew they had kept this from him. They had been feeding him power to keep him going. Splitting it… so there was something left in the end. Just so he could keep moving. So he could make it out of this hell. But now… Now it was all gone.
And so was that hope.
His head dropped powerless, hungry, his resolve in tatters so close to salvation. He couldn't do it, he couldn't move, couldn't reach the end of this god damned place. He wasn’t going to be a hero, he wasn’t even going to survive. He was going to just lose it all here and fall into that nothingness again. Cry at losing everything again and never wake up. He’d failed to even start trying to make this right, and it all fell over him like so much death waiting for that fall. But this sorrow mounted, as the first dry tear filled his eye…
As he saw something stretch over the ground ahead of him.
And loom its shadow over.
He pulled his head up with a last gasp of fearful speed, eyes too wide for what he could take. Yet… yet there was nothing! Scanning around for anything like it was a mad hallucination, all he saw was the same blasted hell he walked into. All he saw was what had already broken him.
But he was stopped close to dead. As a voice broke his fear.
“No, up here.”
It was a whisper, almost on the level of the Garkah but… but it felt softer than anything he’d felt since waking up in this hell.
He looked up, blinded by the noonish sun, but clear as day he saw her before it. She was older than he was, but not an adult. Wore a bodysuit, armored up grey on grey. And it even had an embroidered round shield patched to her chest. Brown and blond hair tied up behind her, eyes almost orange outshining the sun. And... And she was flying! Hovering over him. Like… like an angel. Like salvation come. Though, she didn’t have wings….
She- She was a super, definitely! A member of the League, a hero, but-
“Hey! This is NOT the time to be daydreaming!”
She whispered down harsh enough to break the illusion. Demanded he get back to the reality at-
“Take my hand quick, we need to get out of here!”
She swooped a little lower, stretched out an armored glove near enough for him to feel the rippling of the air around her. And yet relapsed back to that angel come to spare him from what he’d undertaken. He hesitated, he couldn’t help losing what little focus he had to the relief breaking him down. Shakily, he stretched a hand to meet hers, hope rising over fatigue and hunger. Rising over what felt like the end before he could ever begin. He was going to live, to survive, to try and make it so all this went away. Use all this power he had to fix everything that had been broken. Everything that had been lost…
But this hope, this relief, it was all too great a force. As his hand was lost to its cathartic exuberance. As it released the walking stick it once held so tight to. And let it drop to the ground with a reverberating-
*thunk*
Seth’s eyes went wide. The girl’s horror far wider.
And more eyes opened to take in this scene.
So… many… eyes.
Slow menacing claws grasping at the edges of openings. Toothy maws rising out of those deep dark shadows. Bulks of scales pulling free of their hides. That which was long feared now showing true what that cost was personified. The first to appear clawing out of a still intact doorframe. Seven feet and bowing through the space no longer meant for it. Grey scaly skin burnt black and cracked, faint red staining slit sharp eyes. Its slit… green… eyes. Its claws and teeth caked in black dust, choked by burn and its own desiccation. And… it face… its expression twisted between desperation and wild agony.
Just waiting…
Pausing…
Taking it all in.
Before devolving completely to unholy-
*RRRRRAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHHH*
Bursting forward, screeching murder, bounding like it was the only way it knew how to move! Claws stretched wide, wanting nothing but all there was! Wanting nothing but Seth!
Fear, adrenaline, grim perception! It was all too slow to even draw out this oncoming! Completely outmoded and utterly merciless! Utterly outpaced-
But slamming down before him!
Faster than even this catastrophe bounding. Hands laden and thrusting out, holding and forming a light haloing bright. Orange brilliance falling around the both of them out of nothing but intent. A dome, a shield! A denial of this thing!
And yet it still slammed forward, slammed this barrier like a runaway freight train! Rebuked, rebounding with a sickening snap of about every bone it had in its face. Eye refusing to look away even as its jaw splattered teeth to the rippled wind. As a second hit rammed the other side. Seth caught in the throttled lurch, jerking about only to see a group of three more slam together. Instinct caving in and falling him back onto the ground, shielding him away as the grim was met with the cruel speed of reality. As they all rained down upon them!
As everything, all of them, the damned horde that hid among the rubble, swarming and crashing against the dome like rabid animals. Crashing into each other for even the slightest piece. Those that couldn’t swiping and digging at it, others trying to chew it with jaws forcibly unhinged and tearing themselves apart. All of them wild abandon in purest form and broken function. But all of them… every last one of them…
They all stared at Seth.
Bearing down, locked on to his fear, to his weakness, to everything that had kept them away. At the one that forced them at bay with his choices. With his pain. With his fear. And so in turn pouring down what was locked upon them. Crushing down till he could not but feel it all.
Their fear crashing and flooding. Their desperation insurmountable and caustic. Their disbelief twisting and maddening what already had been. Their sadness marking all that was lost. And all of them… All of them with blaring down with eyes he knew!
Blue like the Maltsburgers. Brown like the Pierces’. Grey like Mr. Thomas. Green like… like his dad. Hazel… like his.
He couldn’t escape seeing them, fear telling him to look away and run but nothing he did would let him. These… these were them. These were his friends. These were his neighbors. These were his town. Those were…
He stopped.
The world slowed.
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Reality made way as even grim inevitability was beaten upon.
As he saw true sorrow.
One of the ones forced to the ground, chewing at the force field with a taloned foot scraping and digging into its back without regard from either. But it was crying, silently, emptily. Tears running down its face with no end in sight. It slipped its jaw down and head butted the barrier as Seth stared unable to look away.
As nothing but the two of them remained in this world.
As he stared into eyes stuck straight ahead at him…
Hazel eyes… like his.
And his mom’s.
The beat of the swarm on the translucent barrier frothing to scenery, emotional avalanche lost to the only thing he wanted from them. As Seth stared into eyes he knew. Tears flowing ever still as this thing tried to force itself through the impermeable distance between them, washing the dust down its snout like a reverse mascara.
Against his fear, against what will he had, against the reality lost and tearing over, he inched toward it. The swarm relegated away for one among. A hand trying to rise to… to finally say it clear. To do what he’d done before, feel, to see, to finally make the truth absolute. To finally know once and for all what was dreaded beyond all else.
But this moment could only last so long. Only hold so close to that orange between them. Hold up… against the whistling cut of the cacophony back down to regretted tatters.
The whistle of incoming ordinance.
Above the dome burst thumps of reverb, a shell exploding and raining high velocity streams of burning shrapnel. With smoking trails of ever burning metal shooting down and perforating all in their path All but that orange expanse that ricocheted them vile. Back into the horde convulsing over. Several lighting on fire immediately, the shrapnel burning them from the inside out in flaring jet wound. As the shells rained down. Pouring death upon all that had wanted him for themselves.
One recoiled from the dome and grabbed at the burning piece of metal buried in its shoulder, trying to dig it out of itself with no regard for what was ripped out. Tearing at its own flesh, wrenched at the bone it stuck in. But it recoiled again, this time grabbing at itself as if to keep something in. Before the moment flashed horrific, as its form bulged. And exploded.
Its skeleton highlight as electrically charged flesh sprayed to dry blood and dust off of it, splattered the road in blackened detritus. In death true. In one of his neighbors reduced to dust. As several more burst about the dome, as the cacophony took a turn for the knell. Before the first ran away and back into the shadows they dared crawl out from. As fear overrode what collapsed them to him.
A piece struck at the hazel eyed one and it screeched horse and hollow, scurrying away into a nearby dug out in a sweeping trail of white burning wake. Group by group, one by one, they scattered or died. Ran for cover or stained the world denied them. Until there was nothing left.
Nothing but burning white smoke and a stained orange dome.
Nothing but a girl holding back what a boy held wrought.
The girl looked around through the black stained barrier, waited till there was nothing but hellish smoke and emptying wails. Till she was sure enough. Enough to let the field go and shower the both of them in that stain. In the dust of everyone he knew. All before scooping him up with no word or hesitation. Hucking him over her shoulder in one demanded motion and lifting off the ground before worse could make way.
Leaving him… leaving Seth with nothing. Forcing him to stare back at the burning battlefield. At the charred, stained, and still smoking place he’d walked into. As all the pain, the fear, the miles numbed away. Staring at his dust stained hands trailing limp in the aerials. As flakes rippled away in the wake.
As he stared back…
Trying to catch a glimpse again….
At what he could only have been his mom.
As…
As it all faded…
As all things should.
In a world denied you.
Lost
Gone
Rendered dim of focus and leaking ethereal.
Emptiness that shouldn’t be seen. But still…
Still Seth could feel them. All of them. All of them looking at him! All of them staring at him! All…!
Seth opened his eyes and the real world around him drove away what it could. The anxiety of those eyes, those forced in emotions drowning him. Surrounding him. It was all still too fresh. Too real. Too here and now…
And yet… too fleeting.
The burn over his left eye giving a more pressing, real sensation. Proving to him that what had happened, had happened. That the real was in the past, that the fake was in the present, and now both had made their mark upon him. The feeling burning all the way to his skull. So that he would never forget…
That he was not the one in control in that arena.
He pulled himself up out of bed, the heavy drained weight of his body such a familiar burden. The clock illuminating his dim room telling him he’d been passed out since yesterday. But it seemed pretty clear he wasn’t under threat for missing a whole day after… After that. Even Para wasn’t that cruel.
The red numbers tried to twist and swirl, but were rubbed away. Chased away as the lights smoothly rose. A shaky hand unlatched the main cover of his connector suit, the stains and tears in it another record he really didn’t need right now. The zipper underneath coming next and allowing it to fall away off his shoulders. Drop and lay on the ground as he waddled to the bathroom. To wash the dried blood from his face.
To breath.
But as he looked up, he could only stare at himself in the mirror for longer than he needed. Because it was like nothing had changed. Like nothing ever changed.
‘Not… like anything was going to, right? Right…’
There was no scar carved into his face. No loss of vision despite the damage done. Even his eye was still… still that same hazel shift. But maybe a little more red along its outer band. More bloodshot.
The Garkah were silent, probably still working through everything that happened and giving him space to do the same. Giving him a chance at some peace. But it was uneasy, fraught.
And turning back it was beaten like a drum. As he came face to face with his suit still stood at the door.
It was like he was back in Berta for a third time over. Like he was staring down another laceroid. The smell of phosphorus and blood, the heat, the callus speed of his heart beating its way out of his chest, the torturous spear of every breath that pumped frantic. The…! The…
He shut his eyes, gritted his teeth, shoved his breathing down to actually take in what was needed. Seething a rhythm back into his being. Center what was so far off kilter.
That wasn't real. It’s all the past. Some twisted past. That wasn’t him. He was safe. This… this was his… and he was more than it. But still… he hesitated there in the dark. With those broken eyes shining down through his seethe. As blood red as all the rest had been. But forced away, forced back to the nothing they were as he grabbed the suit by the shoulders. Its weight greater than it ever was, but he lifted it up and stood it back to the wall he had been leaving it against. A hand staying on it, feeling it, doing what… he hadn’t been able to. But really just making sure it was inert, making sure his rhythm was his alone. Before breathing a shallow relief over that empty metal chest.
Dropping him back on to his bed as it all came down. As the world true and hollow was allowed him again. So he could get dressed for a day of calm desperately needed. Putting back on clean trainers and putting his connector suit up to deal with later.
Let his past go, drop away again as he headed out finally. Because at least he had the rest of the week to relax this tender scar on his being away. That mercy alone offered up in recompense.
Morning lines up were off the schedule, so everyone was already having or on their way to breakfast. Though things were quiet and sequestered. He passed by Kabar as he exited his own room, and felt the sullen and beaten look on his face before ever seeing it. Seth wasn’t the only one who’d gone through hell yesterday. But for some reason Kabar was wearing standard trainers instead of his custom suit like always. He only caught the slightest glimpse into his room, but saw his suit hanging on the wall mounts. Or what was left of it.
Its lines torn and slashed apart, flames stained with blood and shredded. Clawed.
Para was going to fuck over every one with that Berta scenario it seemed. He was sending everyone to the same damn hell he had been through without a hope in hell for someone to save them. What the hell was he thinking?!
But the dismay fueled moment broke as Kabar finally shared that sullen exhaustion. As it shifted to marked agitation. Seth looked away to stymie any coming conflict, they both were too tired for that. But he could feel something closing in on blame. This was so much worse than just a shared test.
Seth kept moving, entering the canteen with most of the trainees were already seated and eating. The smell of a pleasant breakfast laid out in the buffet line driving away the bad of all before. Power Banana Pancakes, Super Steak n’ Egg Tacos, muffins. Yeah just muffins. Ambrose was a good chef, but woefully unoriginal when it came to naming his dishes. But at least he tried.
Seth went straight for the pancakes, drizzled only a half portion of syrup on the side, but scooped up two of butter. He never really learned what Ambrose’s powers were, only heard of and saw its effects. Despite the buffet style trays ala carte, everything was still hot like it had just been made. He assumed he had heat related powers, some theory crafted he had limited time powers, but really no one bothered to dig deeper since the result was so good. And it was a better panacea than anything he could hope to manage.
Seth sat at an empty table somewhat away from everyone, they never bothered him and he didn’t bother them that way. Not like he was expecting much lately, but it was just nice to have the quiet. But today it was different. The canteen was filled with ire, glares tracking down onto him unlike any before. But he refused to let that detract from the breakfast he needed.
The first few bites were amazing. The light banana bread batter was sweet but soft, some crunchy nuts within didn’t overpower the flavor, the syrup accenting notes of brown sugar. The butter melting right in like… well butter. And it all wasn’t overpoweringly sweet. All balanced just right to compliment anything he did to smother it to his liking. But this sooth was short lived, as he finally looked up from his pancake addle.
Because chairs were loudly pushing aside and his fellow trainees were approaching almost all as one. Save for Kabar, Kaz, and… David. From the cowering hold he had over his body, it seemed like he was tested yesterday as well. But Seth didn’t have time to express this realized empathy before Maya stormed up from in front of everyone and slammed her hands down on the empty table, rattling his meal if not half the canteen.
“Okay Tinman! You’re going to tell us just what the HELL you’ve doomed us all to! Because you better believe you’re going to pay for what happened to David…!! And Kabar I guess.”
Seth’s empathy hardened to confusion.
“What the hell are you talking about? You know I can’t tell you, but why are you blaming me for what I can only assume is Para’s doing?”
Maya slammed the table again, almost breaking it.
“Because whatever you did provoked him!! Do you have any idea how badly hurt David was? Medi had to put him back together just so they could even wheel him out of the arena! He was in the medical unit for hours!! Whatever it was you did, you need to apologize so we at least all aren’t torn to shreds!”
Seth quickly extrapolated in full as that phantom scar started to burn over his eye.
‘That son of a bitch!’
“All I did…! All I did was beat his fucking scenario. Blaming me for him taking it out on you isn’t going to help. And apologizing sure as hell isn’t either! You know damn well Para isn’t going to listen!”
Most of the trainees' already sour looks worsened, but worse yet Kabar got up from his barely eaten breakfast once he heard Seth's admission.
“The FUCK did you say!?!”
He pushed past everyone and added his hand prints to Maya’s on the now definitely broken table. The rest of the heroes in the canteen now thoroughly aware of the ruckus being caused.
“There is no way in hell that damn powersuit survived…! That a powerless loser like you beat those…!”
Kabar held off, even he didn’t want to make things worse.
“That… simulation. There is no fucking way!!”
Seth hardened a little but looked down, his phantom scar refusing to abate.
“You say that like it did. You say that like I can’t… And again, it’s not a fucking-”
“What the hell are you all doing!?”
The group parted and looked back toward the door, at Para walking in and glaring an expression leagues above any ire arrayed.
“If you’re trying to intimidate your fellow trainee into getting an advantage, you’re only going to make things worse for yourselves.”
Kabar broke off but continued sneering, but Maya redirected her anger more justifiably.
“Why the hell are you punishing us all for what Seth did!? Why are you taking out your frustrations on us?!”
Para only passably looked mockingly taken aback, something deeper burning beneath it like a mask.
“Well excuse me Combo Breaker for thinking my students should be held to the same standard. Surely the heroes of the League should be expected to outperform any powersuit on the market right? So if a machine can defeat the scenario, a super should too! Or do you not feel up to being a hero anymore?”
Maya was visibly shaking, like she was about to join the bean Parasonic in the face club. And Seth couldn’t stand his shit either! The scar was practically on fire now! He was half way to getting up, to tell Para off, cracking fucking skull open!! It would probably to make things worse but he couldn’t just accept this bullshit anymo-
“All right ENOUGH!!!”
But the canteen shook true like it was afraid all its own, as Aegis burst in before Seth could break, grabbing Para by the shoulder and whirling him about. Everyone reeled, a mad Para was expected, a mad Aegis was terrifying.
“Para you’re banned from the sim control until further notice! Command doesn’t want to give our trainees PTSD before they even see true combat!! You have crossed enough lines already! And further more-”
“More what!?”
That mask of smugness wasn’t lasting long as he leaned in to try and hide his fury. But Seth could hear. Could feel all that was directed at him.
“You and I both saw what happened. We can’t let that thing-”
Aegis pushed him off.
“It doesn’t matter. You’re throwing the recruits under the bus for your own sake.”
Aegis turned back to the group now fearing for the stability of their class.
“We are going back to standardized tests! Kabar, David, …Seth, you don’t have to retake yours. But… But if you feel like you need to, we can run you through a test actually meant for you and not… someone else.”
Seth tried not to react to this, but sank back down hard in his seat, weighed down by more guilt at nearly losing himself again. Kabar looked angry, but retreated back to his breakfast. The group dispersed as well, Jacob and Maya going back to David to comfort him as best they could. Aegis and Para lingered a little as Seth was left alone again. Para’s fury simmering but staying at bay, while Aegis’ concern came back as she ushered him out.
Whatever peace this was, it allowed Seth to hold a hand to his eye. To try and snuff out this burn, but it was inescapable no matter how tightly he held. He tried to get back to his pancakes, but all this anger and guilt had ruined his appetite. And his fork was crushed to scrap in his hand. Things weren’t going to get easier, that was just assured at this point.
