Arc woke up in a room shrouded in darkness. He blinked, trying to adjust his eyes, but the pitch-black surroundings gave no hint of where he was. He strained his ears, hoping for a sound that might explain his location, but there was only silence.
Slowly, he pushed himself up, his hands sliding over the cold, smooth floor. As he stood, he immediately knew where he was.
He looked behind him instinctively, searching for the familiar sinister presence that had always been there... but there was no one.
He was puzzled. Eyes searched for the entity around the place, finding it nowhere. Only the glowing figure was there, and he reached for it tentatively. Running his hands over and over the glowing figure, yet nothing took place.
"What's happening?" he murmured, his voice trembling. He tried to grasp the glowing figure once more, but his hands passed through it. Panic started to rise within him. He could not take his white form.
He tried to call out, his voice echoing in the void. "Pierrot? Quill?" His voice was shaky, almost pleading. "Crescent? Gibbous? Roy?"
Nothing. The names hung in the air, unanswered. He was alone, truly alone.
"No, this can't be happening," he whispered. "It can't be... I can't be alone..."
But he was. The darkness pressed in, seemingly everywhere and nowhere, it took place... it took his place.
Breathing grew more heavy, dissociating senses, losing control... falling.
Slowly, the ground swallowed him in.
Sinking, he felt the cold envelop him.
Hands clawed at the smooth surface, nothing to hold on to. The sensation only deepened, darkness consuming him... wholly.
Desperation did not trigger. The senses were despondent. Head dropped, body half buried in the floor.
Arc lay still. He felt heavy, unable to move, unable to think...
Eyes distant... detached.
────────
When Crescent reached the team first, rumbling sounds echoed beyond the walls. She sprinted to the hole in the wall, her hand immediately covering her mouth to suppress a gasp at the sight before her.
She needed to move fast. The first thing she did was check the bodies on the floor for signs of life. The old veteran lay motionless, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. The remains of the other sealed demon were twisted and charred. Finding no pulse, she turned her attention to the little girl, who was only unconscious. Crescent checked for more physical wounds or trauma, but there were none, only a slight bruise on her temple.
"Little girl..." Crescent gently shook her, but she remained unresponsive. Desperation creeping into her voice, she called for responders.
"NO!" Quill shouted when he heard the crackle of the radio.
Crescent paused mid-call, turning to Quill, who emerged from the smoke of the fight, his face streaked with soot and sweat. "Why?"
"One last demon." Quill said, his voice heavy with sorrow. "The girl is fine. Let us handle this first."
The smoke cleared slightly, and Crescent finally saw the demon beyond the walls. Her legs gave way, and she fell to the floor, her eyes wide with horror.
"Is that... Arc?"
Quill's pained expression confirmed it. "Yes. Now go. We will take care of him."
"I-I will carry her outside..." Crescent stammered, her gaze fixed on Arc's monstrous form as she lifted the child into her arms.
She released a deep breath, turned, and sprinted out of the building toward the responders.
Crescent emerged from the building, the weight of the unconscious girl heavy in her arms.
The air outside was thick with dust and the smell of smoke.
"Over here!" Crescent called out, her voice strained. A responder, a woman with a calm, reassuring presence, turned and quickly came to her aid.
"She's unconscious, but I couldn't find any severe injuries," Crescent explained, gently laying the girl onto a stretcher the responder had brought.
"We'll take care of her," the responder said, her hands moving adeptly as she checked the girl's vitals. She glanced up at Crescent with a nod of reassurance.
Crescent lingered for a moment, her eyes still on the girl.
She took a deep breath, stretched her shoulders, and turned back toward the building.
────────
Gibbous watched as the lady was gently placed onto a stretcher, her eyes fluttering open briefly before closing again.
A responder, a burly man with a calm demeanor, leaned over her, checking her vitals and ensuring she was stable. He glanced up at Gibbous and gave her a reassuring nod.
She felt a wave of relief wash over her but didn't allow herself to linger. She needed to check on Roy.
Not in white form, she jogged toward Roy's direction, finding the man already approaching her. He was looking worn but unharmed.
They met halfway, Gibbous panting slightly. "Everything fine on your end?" she asked, scanning his face.
"Met a young demon. It's sealed," Roy replied, his voice steady despite the fatigue.
He looked disheveled, his neat appearance now marred by dirt and small cuts. His sunglasses and shoes were missing, leaving his feet exposed and slightly bruised.
Gibbous looked at him, wondering what had happened.
"What happened to yours?" asked Roy.
"It was strange. The woman was tied up when Crescent and I arrived," Gibbous explained.
"Hm," Roy mused. "Is it a non-active?"
"I don't think so," Gibbous replied, shaking her head. "It looked like it was torn between trying to untie the ribbon and hurting itself. It had enough strength to move around."
Roy nodded, his expression serious. "We need to report it."
They started to jog and headed to the others. When they reached the farthest unit, they entered through the hole in the wall. The interior was a mess of rubble and fallen beams.
Two sealed demons lay on the floor, and before them had been a chaotic fight.
They looked at each other and proceeded to the next room as crashes and thuds set off.
They saw the dehumanized Arc, and Pierrot with Quill in their forms, trying to fight him. They were repeated thrown to the ground. They were tired.
As Arc lunged at Pierrot again, Gibbous took her white form.
"No!" Pierrot shouted at them as he stepped back.
"I will have to manifest," he said, and the team's eyes widened.
"No... Pierrot." Gibbous was ready to fight. "We can help."
"I NEED TO." His voice was stern. "Give me time."
The three immediately were in form and circled Arc, attention divided to Pierrot who was standing in the corner.
His prayer began.