"There he is!"
"Ugh— Move faster!"
The boy heard their distant shrieks and tripped. He nearly cursed. How many times had he walked through these blasted weeds? Every fiber of his being knew where he was going, even if he couldn't see, but his luck declared that he would not evade them for long. Still, he thought, halfway to the second gate isn't far from the old record.
Onwards he went, wiping grime from his fall, each step more hasty than the last. The guards would not be far for long. The intermittent clicks of flashlights and voices assured him of that.
Suddenly, like a pebble sliding into a silent lake, he felt a faint wisp of energy flit through his freezing fingers. Whose it was, he didn't know, but the shock of it stopped him dead in his tracks.
The world behind the gates quieted. The rustling of leaves laden with fresh snow and heavy boots trudging over well-trimmed paths did little to reach his ears. His careless escapade was no longer the focus. With every breath he was less and less aware of the outside, enamored by the curling thread that so tugged at his senses.
What is it? No, he knew what it was. But, where did it come from? Beyond the gates? It certainly wasn't made by the Coats. Their experiments are strong, but they're fragile and grossly inconsistent.
What he felt was barely a whisper in the hushed dark, but it was firm, and to have come this far out meant its owner had a depth that was much greater than anything the Coats could force together. The wisp floated and swayed, unyielding in its curiosity, and the boy was tempted to bring out his own to engage it. But he wouldn't. Its form, a tangle of pure thoughts roughly interwoven with bold amounts of energy, was far more complex than what a newborn could wield and influencing it would take absurd amounts of time and energy that he simply did not have. Had he not known any better, he might even believe that its owner held more potential than himself. He almost laughed at the thought.
Soon, small sparks blossomed from the drooping tail of the thread, a sign that its energy was waning. Muttering in the words of Herr Urd, the boy snapped his fingers and a light breeze rose, sending the tumbling wisp back on its way. He turned from it slowly to face the tired guards who had caught up to him.
"Ha… Did he say something?" asked one who, the boy noted, was the faster of the two.
"Your death sentence," the boy declared, nonchalantly brushing tufts of snow off his shirt.
"This brat—!" The guard scowled, raising up a hand, before stiffening with hesitation. Or was that fear?
"Huff... Forget it, let's just take him back," said the second, coughing lightly upon catching up.
Once two sets of heavy chains, made of a metal that writhed and constricted almost of its own will, were draped on him again, there was little the boy could do but concede half-heartedly as the two guards dragged him back towards the holding. Before long the trio neared its impassive gates, the pressure it leaked smothering the boy's senses like a stopper on a thrumming string.
"He went pretty far this time… What the heck are the guys downstairs doing?" The first grumbled, clearly uncomfortable with the air outside the first gates.
"Don't even mention it. I can hear them being chewed out from here." The second shivered, foreseeing the rant their senior would slap on their heads as well.
As they walked through towards the building itself, the boy took note of the waves of discomfort that rolled off of the guards. Although he could determine more of their states if he really wanted to, it was rare for him to experience so much of it with a passing interest. I must still be excited, he thought, trapping that fun little thread in place was something I hadn't done in a while. He smiled, revealing dulled fangs that flashed in the building's floodlights, while one of the guards shuddered as though they had seen a ghost.
Right outside the open threshold of the facility, the boy's heart skipped a beat as he realized an emotion he hadn't felt in a long time. An emotion that he hadn't given the slightest thought to since he had last stared Death in her face.
Hope. Overzealous, foolish hope. It was so wildly different from his beloved casual defiance that even his heart had moved. The unknown energy's trail had already faded from the chilled air, yet it seemed to still have surprises for him. He cackled lightly at first, before crumbling into a laugh that sounded like shattering bells. Spooked, the guards at his sides shoved him forward and he stumbled, still laughing, into the gloom beyond as the facility's lumbering doors rumbled shut.