Merrion's eyes fluttered open as she awoke suddenly. Her vision was blurred, and her mind swam with images and flashes of memories from when she was young, many years ago. When she tried to focus on these hazy thoughts, they dissipated hopelessly, as if Merrion were trying to clutch wisps of mist with just her open hands.
Another flash, but this one was of pain, a burning sensation coming from the back of her skull. Merrion blinked rapidly, trying to clear away the fog from her vision. Her eyes darted about, taking in the vicinity as she tried to figure out where she was.
Merrion (thinking): The underground space, that was where I was before –
Another burst of pain. This final jolt was enough to fully clear the fog from Merrion's mind. Her vision cleared up and as she looked around, Merrion saw that the current space she was in had an identical ceiling to the room she had been in earlier.
Merrion (thinking): How long had it been since I was knocked out? Who attacked me?
These questions troubled her greatly. For all she knew, she might have been knocked out in the previous room and moved to another location. That would greatly complicate her escape plan.
Merrion's ears perked up as she heard voices in the distance. Though faint, Merrion could barely discern that there were two distinct voices. One was gruffer, more beat-up, a sound akin to the crunching of gravel beneath a boot. The other's tone was more refined, honeyed almost, the words coming out from their mouth sounding like sweet nectar. Both voices sounded oddly familiar to her.
It had escaped her notice earlier, but after a while, Merrion realized that her glasses, the ones with the embedded camera inside the frame, were missing. This was not crippling to her as she had perfect eyesight, but Merrion panicked slightly at the thought of her equipment falling into nefarious hands. Quickly, she reached her hands out to –
Her hands were tied behind her.
To be more precise, her entire upper body was bound to something behind her. Merrion swore under her breath, muttering an expletive she had learnt a long time ago. She was seated on the floor, with her legs sprawled out before her and her back against a solid pillar, to which (presumably) her arms were tied to. Fibrous ropes bound her body to the pillar behind her, and Merrion felt a similar texture against her upper arms. Merrion tried to look up and see more of her surroundings, but as soon as her head pressed against the pillar behind her, a jolt of pain shot through her. She grimaced, realizing that she was bruised at an inconvenient location.
Merrion looked down at herself. Her clothes were mostly intact, with her skirt was only slightly torn, and she didn't feel any unexpected sensations or pain, besides the one from the bruise on her skull. She felt slightly relieved at that thought, which quickly turned to anxiety as she considered what might happen to her if she didn't escape her current situation. From her studies at the academy, she knew very well what tended to happen to female kidnapping victims. Should her captors wish it, death was the least of her worries. She gulped down her fear, knowing that if she wished to live, she needed to escape.
Looking around, Merrion saw her purse sitting just out of reach of her left leg. It was a source of hope, for inside the purse was the multitool loaned to her by Inspector Zora and her communicator.
Merrion (thinking): If I could just get to it!
Merrion wiggled her left boot around, but no matter how she stretched, she was bound to the pillar behind her too tightly, and the purse remained just out of her reach.
Merrion (thinking): Damn it all!
The multitool might be able to cut through the restraints binding her, and if nothing else, she could ping Edmund with her communicator, letting him know her location. None of those options were available to her so long as the purse remained out of her reach, which frustrated Merrion greatly. She scrunched her toes within her boots in a gesture of her frustration, and without realizing it, activated the integrated magnets in the sole.
The magnetism generated by the boots, strong enough to anchor the weight of a fully-grown person to the floor under microgravity conditions, was more than sufficient to draw in the clasps on the purse, sending it flying into Merrion's boot heel with a resonant clinking sound.
Merrion heard the voices stop. They must have realized something was up with their prisoner and might appear in any second to examine her. Wasting no time, Merrion flexed her left hamstring and brought the purse within reach of her bound arms. With another wiggle of her toes, the magnetism of her boots was deactivated, and the purse came free.
Skillfully, Merrion moved the purse out of sight, hiding it behind her body, and with what little range of movement she had, extracted the multitool and communicator from inside the purse. Having spent many years with her current communicator model, Merrion was able to operate it with her eyes closed (to a certain extent). She deftly unlocked the device and activated the inbuilt voice recorder, hoping that if anything were to happen to her, at least some valuable information could be gained from her sacrifice.
Merrion tensed up as the sound of footsteps grew louder. A stacked series of crates before her obscured her line of sight, but she could tell that her captors were probably walking towards her from behind there. A single bead of sweat trickled down her forehead, dropping to the floor just as a single individual appeared from behind the stacked crates. Merrion's eyes widened, as she realized just why the voices had sounded familiar. Approaching her with slow and purposeful steps was the strangely charismatic head preacher of the Children. In the same honeyed tones with which he had addressed his enraptured congregation earlier, Anant opened his mouth and spoke.
Anant: "It's been so long since we've last met – five years, I believe?"
Merrion was only able to barely suppress her instinct to display her internal confusion upon her face. Surely, he would have asked her why she was here, wouldn't he? But instead…
Merrion (thinking): We've met? Five…years ago? How can that be?
There was good reason for her confusion. Five years ago, Merrion was just another Academy trainee, another face amongst the faceless masses in that institution. If she had met anyone with half the charisma possessed by this dangerous individual currently before her, she would have definitely remembered their face, if not their name. That until recently, she had never held the barest recollection of such an individual like Anant only reassured her that they had never met before.
Anant: "You know, it always did confuse me…you suddenly stepped into my life, so…beguiling and so…tempting…and now, here you are again."
Merrion: "Must be fate, I suppose."
Anant: "Ah! As sharp-tongued as you were when I last met you! Indeed, it was clear to me that your nervous act back in our building was nothing more than a farce, a façade, a facsimile! Tell me, why have you appeared before me once again?"
Merrion watched as Anant paced before her, stealing sidelong glances at her face as he walked back and forth while speaking. His words, in and of themselves, carried no ill intent. But from the tone and the vantage point of the one saying it, Merrion could tell that there was hidden meaning in those words.
Anant: "Back then, I was a rising star; I was in the ascendant! Yes, I was growing my reach and influence within that collective of rogues and rodents. I served loyally, and my loyalty, my faith – it was rewarded with power, authority, influence! Was that what you were drawn to? If so, you can hardly be faulted for it. Alas, it all did not last…not with those fidders around. Those meddling fiends…they took down everything that I had been building, threw me into their dank cells, and then cast me out once they realized that they didn't have enough dirt on me to keep me locked away for good! But yes…I laid low, kept my head down…and here I am again. I have returned. Imagine my joy when I saw your face before me once again…those green eyes. The times have been kind to you, Madame, for you appear to have gotten younger…no?"
Merrion flinched slightly. She was starting to worry that the fortuitous mistaken-identity situation she was in was starting to unravel.
Merrion (thinking): Quick, quick, I must keep up this misunderstanding! Perhaps something useful will come of it!
Merrion: "Oh, you know, modern regenerative therapies are capable of miraculous feats…"
Anant: "Certainly, that appears to be so. A question for you, Madame: why have you decided to visit me once again?"
Again, Merrion froze up. This time, however, her sudden hesitance was noticed by Anant.
Anant: "You see, I have a theory of mine, a small inkling perhaps, of why you are here again. I believe it is no coincidence, no, that you appear before me once again when I have started to rebuild…to reconstruct and recover what rightfully belongs to me in service of a greater power, a greater struggle. You are a herald. A herald of misfortune. Wherever you go, misfortune befalls me and my carefully-wrought plans. Therefore, Madame, I cannot just let you roam freely where you can cause these disturbances to my plans, no? Such would be foolish of me, and I must exert control…I must control the world as I control myself."
Merrion (thinking): A herald of misfortune? What…what is he thinking?
Merrion: "I am no such herald. Surely this is all just a mistake? How could I be –"
Merrion's attempt to correct Anant's perception was suddenly interrupted when a second figure rounded the corner and approached them. She instantly recognized that face, linking it to the voice she had last heard before being rendered unconscious earlier.
Merrion: "You…it was you!"
Standing beside Anant was the same Void Mamba ganger who Edmund had roughed up yesterday, the same Void Mamba who had been taken away by an intelligent construct. Merrion recalled that Omar had mentioned his name in passing: Seung. His face carried the same look he had when she had first encountered him, and even now that same expression made her skin crawl and her hairs stand on end. If any of her two captors were to inflict those unspeakable horrors upon her, it would be him.
Both were clad in nondescript sets of grey coveralls, but while Anant wore his normally, Seung had the upper half of his coveralls hanging around his waist, exposing the bloodstained singlet underneath stretched over his muscled chest. While Anant was of moderate height, Seung easily towered over him by at least a head. It hadn't been apparent back when she had first seen him, but the cargo terminal workers must have had one hell of a fight to capture and restrain this goliath of a man.
Seung: "Boss! This is the girl who –"
Anant: "– yes, I know. Be quiet."
Merrion watched as the huge ganger obediently followed the order given to him. It seemed to her that in spite of what their intel had previously suggested, Anant was still active enough in gang affairs that he would have authority over common thugs like Seung.
Anant: "You see, my loyal follower here has told me everything. And with what he has revealed to me, it now makes perfect sense to me about why you appeared then and have reappeared now. You…you're working with the FIDs."
Merrion: "What?"
Anant: "There's no need to play dumb with me, Madame. From the moment Seung told me about the girl with the green eyes and black hair, I had a feeling that it'd be you. He was especially insistent about the green eyes –"
Merrion: "If you already know that it was me, then why? Why have you tied me up like this?"
Anant: "Why, you ask? Certainly, you know the reasons, Madame Camelia? After all, you did manage to find your way to this place. I can hardly imagine other entrances to this room exist, besides the one we both know you used."
Merrion: "Entering a room is not sufficient reason to keep a private citizen restrained against their will!"
Anant: "Yes, I know. And keeping a Fidder restrained calls for an even greater penalty, no?"
Merrion's blood froze, and her face mirrored the chilling feeling she felt in the pit of her stomach. As if in response to her, Anant laughed heartily, like a hunter eyeing wounded prey. He raised his index finger, before pointing it at the musclebound thug standing next to him.
Anant: "To think in five short years, you went from just an enchanting individual into another member of the damn FIDs. You may have maintained your youthful looks, but you've degraded in every other aspect. I noticed the shifty way you were acting back at our open house earlier. I noticed you loitering about after our service had ended. I would have thought nothing of it, but then here you are."
Anant spread out his arms before him, as if trying to catch the very world in his embrace.
Anant: "As for your partner, my guess is that, if he was willing to beat up Seung for just looking at you, then certainly he must be on his way here already."
Merrion looked at the expressions painted across her captors' faces. Anant's expression was as calm and tepid as before, with barely a hint of emotion showing except for a single placid smile. In stark contrast, Seung's face was wide-eyed, filled with only a lustful gaze at her, like a starved animal eying a piece of meat. Merrion could only feel disgust well up inside her.
Merrion: "I would have beaten up that dog too, if he hadn't done it for me first."
Seung: "WHAT WAS THAT, BI-"
Anant: "Calm yourself, we need her intact for now. Once she's served her purpose, you can do with her as you wish. Though I really do wish you wouldn't break them so completely, it really complicates the…cleanup."
A faint, sly smile warped Anant's face.
Seung: "You sure about this, boss? Once I get started, I won't stop! When I see a feisty girl like her, I – I – I JUST WANT TO BREAK THEM!"
Merrion stared in wide-eyed shock, her blood chilled to her core at the sight of these two so casually discussing about what they would do to her. Her thoughts churned in her mind, a maelstrom of emotions. While she knew she was in a truly terrible situation, the fact that she was being kept around as bait for Edmund – her treasured senior, that only added salt to the wound. It was natural that Merrion did not wish any harm to come to herself, but the thought that because of her lack of caution, harm would come to others, that was a thought she could not allow. A different thought, coloured in the deep crimson of spilt blood, crept its way into Merrion's mind. It spoke in her voice but with an intent that was not hers.
Merrion: "Why? Why are you doing this?"
In her mind, Merrion said those words with the force and conviction she felt, deep down. But when processed through the instinctual fear and terror that any living being feels when threatened with bodily harm, those words came out in a shaky, almost squeaky tone, in complete contrast to the defiance with which those words resonated in her mind. Merrion watched as the goliath of a man, Seung, squatted down before her in the manner that an adult regarded a petulant child. He squatted in such a manner that his groin was wide open, unprotected, almost as if he were daring her to try and kick him. Frozen with fear, all Merrion could do was wait and watch, as the huge ganger pointed at his face.
Seung: "That man who hit me before. Yeah, you know. Him. Kicked me right across the face, squeezed my face with that grip of his, cracked my chest –"
Seung gestured to his sternum as a big, toothy, demented grin began to spread across his face.
Seung: "– ckin' painful that was. Now, I'm gonna return the favor, and once I'm done beating him into a bloody pulp, I'm gonna make him watch as I play with you."
Anant: "Play with her later after we eliminate her partner, Seung. I didn't rescue you just so you could indulge this petty grudge of yours."
Merrion (thinking): Anant rescued this ganger? How? Was, was he the –
Merrion's eyes lit up as recollections of the mysterious intelligent construct from the cargo hold rushed through her still-cloudy head.
Merrion: "The chain-user?"
There was a sudden silence, as if somehow Merrion had managed to ask a question that was obvious to everyone except to herself. Seung suddenly burst out in hearty, guttural laughter that echoed in the room, his whole body shaking with each emission of sound, while Anant merely smiled serenely in response, standing in a relaxed posture.
Seung: "Yeah, you scared me real good back then, boss! Getting wrapped up in that thing hurt! Couldn't see a damn thing from inside there, either!"
Anant: "I've already apologized. I will not repeat myself."
Seung: "Hrmph."
Seung stood up from his squatting position, returning to his prior position besides Anant. As if in response, Anant moved forward, closing the distance between himself and Merrion. The sound of chains clinking suddenly grew louder in Merrion's ears, and she reflexively shied away, pushing the back of her head into the metal pillar behind her in spite of the shooting pain such a movement caused.
Anant had a smaller build than Seung, making him look less dangerous on the surface. Despite that, his mannerisms as he stalked towards her put Merrion on edge, more than Seung ever could. A sense of dread descended over Merrion like a sudden fog, clouding her perception and distorting her emotions.
Anant regarded Merrion with a hypnotic stare, their gazes locking as Anant slowly walked towards her, step by brutal step. His arms were obscured by his body, tucked neatly behind him, and all Merrion could see was his frame, obscured beneath the coveralls. The dread Merrion felt intensified as Anant closed the distance, but she could not bring herself to look away.
Merrion (thinking): We stood closer back at the House of Worship, but it felt nothing like this! What's different? What's going on?
Eyes quivering with fear, Merrion felt her leg sliding across the floor – no, that wasn't it – she wasn't moving her leg. Her leg was being moved against her will.
That realization was sufficient to make her snap her focus away. Merrion shifted her gaze to her foot and beheld an inexplicable sight. A chain, wrapped around her left ankle, extending upwards and bending away in curvatures impossible for a passive object to maintain under the influence of gravity alone. Merrion traced the line drawn in the air by the chain to its endpoint behind Anant's back. Her eyes widened with the realization, and she stiffened her leg muscles, resisting the pull of the chain. As if acknowledging her, Anant spoke.
Anant: "Is that what you call me, the "chain-user"? An adequate epithet, if not lacking in majesty. Well, yes. I suppose I should acknowledge your deduction."
In a similar manner to his earlier grandiose gesture, Anant spread his arms before him.
Merrion (thinking): The line traced by the chain – it didn't follow his hands?
She grimly awaiting his next line with her voice recorder still running in the background.
Anant: "Unfortunately, this is no chain, though I realize it does look like one. I am but a humble brother, and as you have realized, a member of the underworld. One such as I could never hope to afford one of those toys of the rich and powerful."
Merrion suddenly felt the tug of the chain on her leg release. She watched with wide-eyed amazement as the chain vanished from sight instantaneously, as if she had blinked away its existence. Nevertheless, the sound of clinking still remained in the room, alerting her to the fact that it was still present. There was a few seconds of complete stillness and then, Merrion watched as one of the boxes stacked behind Anant and Seung floated into the air. As if suspended by strings, the box was lazily manipulated about in the air, spinning in unpredictable ways, and oscillating back and forth.
Anant: "This is no simple intelligent construct, Madame. But something far greater. This is a blessing from them, free from the shackles of wealth and influence. This is the equalizer with which I will bring revolution to our world."
Revolution. A violent disruption to existing social order, often involving the replacement of the existing regime with another, more in alignment with the beliefs of the revolutionaries. Synonyms for such an act were insurrection, uprising, rebellion –
Mutiny.
Merrion: "Is that it? You, holding me against my will as bait for my partner, you think that this will help you bring your desired revolution?"
Merrion spoke that question out, half expecting it to go unanswered. In the heat of the moment, fear and dread clouded her mind and mixed together with her anxiety about her situation. If she were to die here, nothing would matter to her anymore. Here, where death was just a misspoken question away, her basest desire, her desire to know, to understand, took precedence. And depending on the reply to her question, it might turn out to be valuable information that could lead Edmund towards the true killer.
Anant: "Yes."
Silence.
Anant: "I suppose it's fine if I tell you, Madame, that I've already taken the first step to dismantling the system that constrains us all, even you."
Merrion: "How so –"
Anant: " – I've killed that tyrant you all call the Lord Admiral."
From a pocket in his coveralls, Anant withdrew an object. Merrion watched with eyes widened from shock as the box, lazily dancing about in the air just moments prior, was flung backwards with shocking speed. It disappeared behind the mass of other stacked boxes, eventually making a loud noise as it inevitably crashed into the ground. The sound of the impact echoed in the room and resonated in Merrion's skull, causing her to squeeze her eyes shut from the pain. She couldn't have seen it, but Seung was also affected by the noise, with only Anant being totally unaffected.
When the ringing in her ears finally ceased, Merrion opened her eyes, blinking away the tears forced out. In Anant's hands was a jet black knife, unlike any weapon Merrion had ever seen before. Its blade appeared to be mottled, an effect caused not by splotches of colour, but by waves and undulations in the surface of the blade. The knife was an object of strange beauty, and if she were not in her current position, Merrion would have loved to examine the knife more closely at her leisure. But right now, it was a weapon to which she might lose her life to.
Merrion: "Is that what you killed him with? A knife? The Lord Admiral?"
Anant: "Oh? Don't sound so surprised. That tyrant was just that, a man. Like any one of us. He bled, and he died. Underneath the trappings of status and power, we're all alike. The same red rivers flow in our flesh, yours, and mine. That same red river flowed out from him all the same, when I so elegantly ran this blade across his neck."
Anant flipped the knife back and force, deftly twirling it about by the handle in his hand. The blade danced about in his palm, a display of prodigious skill and murderous finesse.
Anant: "They told me that this blade, even though it is so amazingly – so brutally refined and keen-edged, fails to compare with their own obsidian blades. A pale imitation of a superior original. Perhaps in time we will achieve such wonders for ourselves again."
Merrion: "Is that all you have? Just a knife?"
Anant: "Just- just a knife? Oh, no, you're mistaken."
Merrion flinched, as Anant suddenly closed the remaining distance separating them. A single hands-breadth separated their faces, and Merrion could smell the stink on his warm, moist breaths. He gazed into her eyes, no, stared at her very soul behind them. Merrion defiantly stared back into his now hollow lifeless pits for eyes.
Anant: "With the blessing they've given me, all I need is this knife."
Anant, still gripping the knife in his palm, pointed the honed tip of the blade at Merrion's cheek, the keenly-honed edge pricking her skin and drawing blood. With his palm facing up, Anant withdrew the blade from its puncture site, and released his grip on it. The knife, much like the box earlier, floated up from Anant's open palm, moving about as if held by an invisible hand – an invisible chain.
Anant: "This knife is the realization of my resolve. I will cut away the shackles of this society and free us from this path that we were forced to walk. The blessing they gave me will propel my resolve further, to accomplish more!"
Merrion: "You, you can't use more than one chain at a time, can you?"
A thin smirk played out across Merrion's face as she saw the stunned look on Anant's face. That moment of transient victory turned to dread once more, as Anant began to chuckle softly at first, the sound steadily growing in pitch and intensity into a deep and maddening noise as he stood up to his full height, towering over her small frame, strapped to the metal pillar behind her.
Anant: "- ha, ha ha, Ha Ha Ha AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Brilliant, Madame! But what good will knowing that do?"
Merrion: "Nothing really, I suppose."
Trying her best to suppress her fear at that sudden outburst, one that she had expected to have come from Seung, who was simply regarding the two of them at this point, Merrion continued her line of inquiry, craning her neck to face him.
Merrion: "I saw a cryocasket earlier in this room. What's inside?"
Anant: "Just that man's corpse. They want it. I've already done my part in slaying that tyrant –"
Seung: "– Boss, why are you answering that girl's questions?! She's a fidder!"
Merrion: "Yes, I've been wondering too. Why are you so willing to answer me?"
Anant: "Because I've realized – no, I've decided – that you're too dangerous to be left alive. It has been – how long – two days since I killed the Lord Admiral. Surely those in power knew that, not long after I had done the deed. So, tell me, why is it that there is still no news of his tragic passing?"
Anant theatrically spun about on the heels of his boots, talking to an audience that seemingly only he could see, in a voice that was an obvious mockery of figures of authority.
Anant: " "The Lord Admiral is Dead! Tragically, He was Slain by Conspiratorial Forces! We will not rest UNTIL HIS KILLER IS BROUGHT TO JUSTICE!" So on, and so forth."
Seung: "Yeah, Boss! You killed that big man! Why isn't the news talking about it?"
In a single swift motion, Anant, completely ignoring Seung's question, turned back to face Merrion, drawing his face close to hers. Merrion shrunk backwards, both out of disgust and in a desperate effort to conceal the items behind her back.
Anant: "Because that isn't their goal. I've created an opportunity. They'd be loath to let this go to waste. They will thank me for what I've done, I'm sure of it! But it'll all go to waste if I'm captured by you again. My ambition is not so meagre that I'd let myself be done in by the FID, not for a second time!"
Merrion watched him genuflect before her, a gesture of blatant mockery of her and the organization she belonged to.
Merrion (thinking): This son-of-a-
Anant: "Once your partner comes for you, and once we dispose of him, I will personally dispose of you too. Think of my answers as an upfront payment, in that regard, for the service you will be doing for me later."
Once again, Merrion felt and watched as the chain, seemingly materializing out of thin air, tightened around her ankle and tugged on her flesh. She tried to resist, stiffening every muscle in her legs. The effort was meaningless, and the chain seemed to move with impossible strength, puppeteering her leg about against her will. She watched as Anant and Seung walked away back along the path they had come from earlier, Seung in the front and Anant at the back.
She watched as Anant raised one arm and waved it, in time to how her leg was being manipulated about. She heard Anant speak a line, a single sentence that utterly enforced how he saw her now. If there was ever any doubt that any goodwill Anant had for Camelia prior to this current encounter was gone, this was it.
Anant: "It was nice getting to see you again, Madame Camelia. It's truly a shame that it had to come to this, but unfortunately you live at my convenience, and so too you will die at my convenience."
---
After that brief exchange, Merrion was once again alone. In the distance, she could barely make out the sounds of talking between Seung and Anant. Their dialogue, if it could even be called that, solidified in Merrion's mind that regardless how Camelia had been seen by Anant before, now they only saw her as a hostage; bait to be used and discarded once it had served its purpose in luring the true prey, Edmund. For them, she was nothing more than an afterthought, not even a liability to their plans.
This would be their greatest mistake.
They had underestimated her resourcefulness.
Already, the voice recording on her communicator had been transmitted to Edmund via a secure channel. The valuable information Merrion had gleaned from her observations of Anant's chains would surely providing Edmund with an advantage in the upcoming clash. Knowing that the mysterious chain that Anant wielded was singular in nature meant that if it could be neutralized, Merrion and Edmund could gain the upper hand over these two. As far as she could tell, Seung was pure brawn; nothing more than dumb muscle. Anant was the true brains behind their operation. Merrion prioritized him for elimination once she freed herself from these restraints. If she could free herself.
If nothing else, Edmund could escape and leave her behind before returning with reinforcements later. Merrion knew – no, hoped – that it wouldn't have to come to that. Surely, if their plan to eliminate Edmund was foiled, these two might take out their frustration on her. In the moment, while she still remained unharmed, Merrion could steel her resolve and declare to herself that she would never break. Pain, and the imminent threat of death, however, had an insidious way of wiping away all pretenses.
Merrion grimaced, banishing that insidious ophidian thought away by pressing her bruised skull against the pillar, triggering a wave of pain that cleared her mind. In her hands, hidden behind her body, was the multitool. Merrion had managed to silently manipulate it and withdraw the blade concealed within, careful not to make any sudden noises or draw attention to herself. Slowly and silently, she started to saw through the ropes binding her to the metal pillar.
She was a detective, a proud member of General Investigations. She would be damned if she died in such a manner, waiting for rescue. Zora had personally convinced Edmund to let her go on this infiltration mission alone. Her direct superior believed in her capabilities, and she was determined to at least give these two crooks the fight of their lives. She hadn't gone through years of training just to die here, not without accomplishing anything!
As the blade slowly severed the fibers of the rope, millimeter by torturous millimeter, the thought returned, dyed in a deep crimson. Merrion grinned, a combination of desperation, dehydration and exhaustion playing out upon her face. In this single moment, her reply to the thought arrived –
Merrion (thinking): Damn right it's unfair.