I'm floating in nothingness, the world around me nonexistent.
I can't feel.
Speak.
Breathe.
The ability to do anything that I could've done back then has been taken away from me. By some random string of luck, I still have the ability to think in what I'm presuming is my own conscious, but why does that matter? All it does is let me reassure myself that I really just... died.
I can't see anything at all, my body not there when I think I'm looking down. For all I know, Cain in his corporeal form doesn't exist right now, what remains of him being the bag of flesh that contained his spirit.
Is that what I am now? A spirit? I've never believed in an afterlife, but if these are the conditions in which I'm going to live out the rest of my being, I'd take hell over this any day. How much time has passed actually? Does time even work the same here as it does on Earth?
Am I even the same person that I think I was?
Questions keep following more questions, piling on top of each other continuously in a never-ending train of thought with no barriers to contain it. There isn't a brain for me to get a headache from when I begin to overthink. There isn't anything for me to do.
There's nothing left of me.
If I could feel fear, that's likely the emotion that'd run rampant in my missing heart. It doesn't make any sense now that I'm recalling my disappointing death. If I was 'alive' and moving when I didn't have it, why did things end up like this once the pulse of my heart was cut? I don't understand anything anymore, not like I did in the first place.
There's a constant contradiction in what I want. I want to know about everything; to understand just what I am and where I come from, but at the same time, I ignore the slightest attempts my mind gave at deciphering the puzzle that is my life. The unavoidable truths were embedded in my brain, but making any connection to have a better grasp at what was my existence could never take place. I never let it take place.
It could be out of fear of what I'd find, or it could be that I've decided to simply not pursue the matter any further. Either or, I chose to not delve deeper inside that rabbit hole, looking from the comfort of the surface where I had no risk of the ground above me collapsing down onto my falling body.
Deep down, I wanted to learn more about myself. I was curious about what was inside that rabbit hole. Then, just maybe, I'd be able to understand why I do the things I do. There would even be the possibility of getting better control over my black veins. Then I wouldn't have to be so afraid of killing those that don't scare me...
...Why is it that it took my death for me to finally have a moment of introspection? Is it because I have nothing better to do?
I can sympathize with that thought. The absence of conflict that my life regularly contained is nice. In a way, this nothingness is calming.
It's not so bad here...
___________________________________________________________________________________________________
"Was it the Exiled one that disappeared?" asks the brolic man, piercing the tense silence that looms the scene of destruction.
With the brain of Cain's body still tampered with, all that he says isn't in sync with his mouth. It'd be a hassle to change it back now of all times. "If you can't tell the difference between our Daras, you must be one of Zeno's most recent."
"I was. I haven't met you before, so I apologize for not giving the respect that you may or may not deserve." In the far off distance, the wailing of sirens blares loud, police cars turning the corner and heading down the street. A whirring helicopter closes in above the two, providing them with a spotlight for the officers arriving to the sight. "Quite an audience, it seems."
"What is your goal? It surely isn't killing him," says Diatra as she lays Edgar's body on the floor.
"You'd be right. Why kill a Whisperer when another one is always going to spawn right after? The boy's life is in no danger, I can reassure you. I'm merely here to bring back what belongs to Doremi, is all."
Diatra chuckles, forming a menacing smile on Cain's face. "As if I'll let you."
"I don't understand why you're involving yourself in another Whisperer's matters. Isn't it in your nature to go against each other?"
"I need the boy to grow up and fulfill his potential. I won't let Kura and whoever he's sided with to touch him until he does so. I'll protect him for as long as I exist," she boldly declares, determined to do whatever it takes to protect Cain, even if it has to hurt him permanently.
"That's sweet. I never knew a Whisperer could be so fond to one of their kind. It's a shame I still have a job to do, but I'll remember this moment if I ever meet you again."
"This is CPD! Stay where you are and put your hands up!" Blaring from a megaphone behind a wall of cop cars and armed officers, the woman's voice startles the both of them, neither having paid any attention to their surroundings. In the span of their conversation, armed vehicles and reinforcements have arrived, escalating the situation far beyond what it was before. "Make any sudden movements, and we will shoot!"
Blocked on both ends of the road by barricades, the two are pinned where they stand, guns pointed at them from all directions. Anybody that isn't involved has left through the back exits of the apartments, leaving only those who don't belong on Earth with no escape.
Sucking his teeth, he bolts at the source of the voice, his lack of hesitation catching the pending officers at sight off guard. Immediately, bullets of various calibers fly at him all at once, the majority guaranteed to hit their target and kill. At least, that would've been the case had he been an average human being.
The bullets do indeed hit him, there's no mistake about it. He doesn't have the speed to dodge them, and though the one controlling it is far from being human, the body he's hosting isn't. In the moment of impact, the bullets did indeed penetrate his skin, but only slightly before he calls upon the powers that were blessed to him.
The second the bullets hit his skin, they all fly back towards their shooters with the same speed that they left the chamber with, facing the same direction that they were shot in. Some of the returned bullets hit their mark, others only barely missing, but it is without a doubt that the man was left unscathed. He runs right at the wall of shooting officers, and winding back his meaty fist, punches the closest car in front of him.
The vehicle gets blasted forward, anybody behind it knocked along with it. With officers still shooting at him, the air is a constant flurry of back and forth gunfire. Taking advantage of the ongoing chaos, Diatra picks up Edgar's body and using all the strength that Cain's body could produce, leaps meters in the air, grabbing on to the fire escape of an apartment and climbing over the railing. She bolts up the stairs until she reaches the top of the building, not taking a moment to catch her breath as she runs with all her speed across the roof and leaps over to the next building, the brolic man only now taking notice.
Changing his priority from the nuisances bothering him to the one he's assigned to bring back, he gallops down the street while reflecting the bullets of police officers on the other side, running in long strides before bouncing off the ground with enough force to break the asphalt under him. He soars above the storied apartments with ease, landing a few buildings behind Diatra.
In a matter of seconds, the man closes in the multiple buildings in between them and is right on her tail, the rather unfortunate combination of Cain's feeble body and having to carry Edgar slowing her down. Outrunning him was pointless, she knew that the instant he began chasing after her, but it gave her enough time to let Cain's body open one of its many gates in the journey to fulfilling its purpose.
"Servant... I'll only warn you... once...! Stop chasing... and go back...!" she yells at him between breaths.
Ignoring her, he grabs onto an air vent with one arm and plucks it out like a feather, hurling it towards Diatra's direction.
Just narrowly jumping aside, the two fall over violently, both bodies rolling over the floor. Before she can get up, the man's already grabbed her by the wrists, lifting her up in the air.
"His body's tremendously weak, isn't it? I can snap his wrists at any moment," he says menacingly, Cain's arms being twigs compared to the man's. "What would Kura want with him, I wonder..."
"Let go... Even if you take him back to Kura, I'll still be inside of his body. Cain won't be of use to him as he is now."
"See, that's the beauty of Zeno's blessing - everything is reversible in my hands. All I have to do is take him back to a state before you were involved and prevent it from ever happening. I hope we meet again someday, however. I can sense the great amount of power that's being limited by your host, and oh how it intrigues me..."
"Wait!" yells out Diatra as she struggles against the vice grip on Cain's arms, but any amount of strength that she can amplify to Cain's body can't do anything in this situation.
Cain's body trembles violently, being forced to reverse back in time by the man's hands. Slowly, every moment that Cain's lived in the entire year since he's been with Sayuri fades from his memory, the 19 year old body reverting back to it's 18 year old state along with the world around it. The life that was taken from it earlier is brought back forcefully, and as if it were the sudden darkness one experiences when blinking, Cain's eyes open, and he is greeted by a pouring city in the brink of dawn.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________
What do I do, what do I do, what do I do...?
Everyone's dead. I have no roof to go back to anymore, and my pockets are empty. They surely must've noticed I wasn't there. Who'd miss me in the pile of dead bodies? I don't think I can continue hiding in empty dumpsters like I did last night, and every group we've allied with will probably turn me down when I walk on there doorstep, if I can make it there. I can't tell what my options are or if they even exist, but I can tell I'm not supposed to be out in the open like I am now.
What street is this? Argh, it doesn't matter! I'm fucked wherever I go. I can disappear to the closest city from here, but all my 'records' are burnt to a crisp likely. Hell, even staying in Cielos isn't possible. Every knob I turn belongs to a door that's closed, and every corner I can turn at leads to a dead-end. Maybe Pook'll help? Where did he say his office was again?
The name of the street is in the back of my mind as I walk down an eerily empty sidewalk. There should be people here. It's too early in the day for any street to be as dead as this one is now. Kids should be heading to school around this time. The adults driving in their beat cars to work. The Saints watching over the area.
The more I walk aimlessly, the more the absence of people becomes apparent. There's the chance that nobody wants to go out in this weather, but then again, nobody's let rain become a reason to not make money. The occasional car has passed me, but other than that, not a single soul is around. Every store I've passed is closed, and if I were delusional enough, I'd probably spot a bouncing tumbleweed in the distance, getting one last hop in before it becomes sodden by rain. What happened while I was gone?
If I remember correctly, it was around here where I put it. Damen would tell me I was being extra by hiding pistols in certain alleyways in case I ever needed them, but look at how convenient that act of cautiousness is now. The street is still lifeless, and from what I can see, no one is lurking in any parked cars nearby. I hesitate to enter the alleyway, peeking inside just in case anybody I don't want to see is there, and excluding the trash and abandoned furniture, it's completely empty.
I walk until I reach the back of a vacant building space, climbing to the top of the high fence that blocks the back entrance. I hold my balance until I'm sure I won't slip and jump across, holding on to the edge of the roof. My fingers almost slip, but I manage to get enough grip to hang. Mustering up the strength to pull myself up, I lay on back for a quick breather before opening the wrapped package by the other side of the edge where I climbed from.
The coldness of gunmetal in my hands feels foreign, but a sense of comfort falls over me when I tuck it inside my shirt. My shot's far from reliable, but a gun is still a gun and a bullet is still a bullet. I peek slightly over the edge, making sure that nobody else is around before I jumped onto the fence and climb back over.
That went a lot easier than I expected. Kai knows most of the places I've hid guns at, and if he had any bit of his brain left, he would've sent a few Pawns to those locations in case I tried to get armed. It could be that I might've overestimated him, or he might've not thought of me as a potential threat. Whichever one, I'm still alive so I'm not complaining.
There's an odd burning in my chest as I walk out from where I entered, and with no chance to react, my body turns stiff. I can't move anything, sudden pangs from where the burning is causing me to cry out loud in pain. I fall down on my back, gasping desperately for air but none entering my body. My chest feels moist, not with water, but with something warm. It trickles down to my ribs, warming my body on the outside but making me cold from where it's leaking.
My eyes sting, but I can't close nor rub them. Tears flow down the sides of my temples as I try my hardest to suppress the sobs wanting to escape.
'Death.'
The word burns itself into my mind when I blink, each tear filled with sorrow and regret. Fear and worry. Anger and rage. Hopelessness floods in like a tsunami, memories of the people I've met flashing before my eyes - Of Stacy and Pook, and Jhene and Micah, and Nana, a-and Damen, and the group from high school, and the Saints.
...and of him.
I was already cold before the rain came down last night, but now, my body's even colder. The downpour drowns me almost, but I can't do anything. Failure is all that's inside my empty chest, and hope is nothing but a fleeting idea that I used to desperately cling to. My eyes grow heavier, and the tears have stopped. Fatigue consumes me, but only temporarily.
In one single moment, I snap out of whatever trance I was in, my lungs screaming for air. An insufferable cycle of choking, gasping, and wheezing continues for a few seconds before everything quickly goes away, and all that's left is soothing aching.
"Fuck... just happened...?" I ask out loud between breaths, furrowing my brow immediately. Why am I talking to myself?
Shaking my head, I pick myself up, swatting whatever dirt and gunk that could've got on my clothes. Putting my hand inside my shirt, I don't feel anything wet. I wouldn't be able to tell you what just happened, and I don't think I ever want to find out.
The pain lingers as I stumble out the alleyway, and beyond any logical reasoning, I can't help but to find the entire experience... nostalgic? The thought's crazy, but this ache in my chest is familiar, the warmth from the tears I've shed making me reminisce on a moment that I can't recall. My head's a bit groggy now that I'm taking notice of it. A shit night's rest might be the cause of that, but something tells me there's more to it. Whatever's the case, it's not important right now.
What is important is the man in front of me, the sweetness from his body making me gag the second the smell enters my nostrils.
"Saluka, Marama," he says, the grin on his face sending shivers down my spine.