Her void-like eyes gazed into his, the sentience beneath was laced with absolute serenity.
Clenching his hand, She twisted her head to the side and muttered:
"What are you talking about? We need to go."
Allen waved at him, "Let's go!"
The storm wasn't letting go anytime soon, they had to go before the infested waters eviscerated them.
Syllian looked at Her once more, and She...
"Come on."
...was no longer there, only Helen's innocent, dark eyes plagued with playfulness remained.
"A-alright, I'm coming!" Syllian's sweaty palms struggled to keep hold of Helen's tiny palms.
But to Syllian, these dainty hands no longer felt so fragile.
Clang...
The darkness lingering between their connected hands clanged, twisting and fusing into a steel conglomerate.
Chains.
Syllian's eyes could see the chains linking them.
They weren't physical.
They weren't real.
But at the same time-
Clenching his palm tight, Helen gazed up at him curiously.
-they were too real.
Syllian knew not how long these chains had been intricately weaving themselves between them, but he knew that he could not maintain an inch of sanity if he found out.
Hurrying along to the head of the group, Syllian gave a quick look at Crude as he passed by.
It didn't feel so wrong anymore.
"Good luck!" Theon cheered him on from the side.
'Coward.'
Syllian scoffed in his mind.
But the same could be said for Syllian most of the time.
Teetering on the edge of the platform, Syllian looked at the corner of the cape. There was enough room for him to jump and hold onto the fold.
The only risks were the constant rainfall and powerful winds.
Measuring the gap, he turned to Helen and the hand grasping his, "Can you... Let go?"
Helen's hand slipped off.
However, Syllian could still see them.
The chains hung between them, constantly reminding him to watch his back.
'Stop thinking too hard.'
Slapping his face, the boy dug his feet into the ground, sensing the grip, balance and strength needed to jump.
It wasn't too wet here, but the landing zone-
PSHH-!
Viscious rainfall rushed down in streams along the lines of the cape, it was drenched from top to bottom and every corner had a severe lack of surface area safe for gripping.
Tap-! Tap-!
A small run-up later, Syllian was airborne again.
He curled his arm around the closest section of the cape and grabbed onto the first piece he could wrap his fingers around.
Dazzling agony battered his arms and chest.
Syllian swayed above the malicious waters with just his hands holding on for dear life.
Punching a hole through his fear, Syllian slowly pulled his body up.
"Hah- Hah-"
Panting for breath, Syllian hugged the cape while regaining his stamina. He raised himself just in time before his arms gave out.
Now he was in the line of fire of the rain, the unceasing, dreadful rain.
Standing at the precipice, the dark-haired child drenched from top to bottom had difficulties maintaining his position.
With each blast of wind, his light body lay on the verge of death, and his multitude of injuries only worsened the scenario.
Focusing his eyes, he waited for the usual flash of lightning.
CRACKLE-!
High above him, the steep mountain gazed down at him with impunity.
The path up was bound to be perilous.
Perilous but simple, all they had to do was follow the folds and creases on the cape up to the top.
'Nice and simple right?'
Clang...
A shrieking metallic noise clangored from his left hand.
Passing his gaze down, he followed the clanging back to Helen.
She was getting ready to jump and he had to catch her.
'What if I don't?'
...He'd probably die.
-----
"Hold on!"
Clasping the hand with both of his smaller ones, the boy pulled as hard as he could, enduring the piled-up exhaustion sizzling through his veins.
His dark hair blew with the wind, dripping with rain.
Syllian's hold was quickly losing strength.
Drip-
A droplet of blood filtered down with the rain, dripping onto the blonde hair right below him.
Blood leaked fervently from his nose as he exerted his strength.
'Why am I holding on?'
The man below him had passed out.
Half of his body had been broken into pieces from the inside out; mushy flesh splurted out his throat; the skin on his scalp burnt into pieces.
'How did this even happen?'
They climbed for a long time, safely scaping the side of the slippery, grey cloth.
However, at some point, everything changed.
The storm went wild, attacking them viciously with barbaric intent.
Riley lost his grip and was thrown around like a sack of meat into the side of the statue repeatedly.
Fortunately, he ended up beside Syllian at some point, letting him grab hold of the man.
'His hands are cold, slippery, I can't hold.'
'Why am I still holding him anyway?'
'I'm only using my strength up for no reason.'
Plus, the man was going to die.
"Finch! Let go!" Allen screamed at him from the side, unable to come up and help due to the lack of room.
Theon followed up beside Allen while clinging to the wall behind him. "Listen to Allen!"
'This is hell.'
Syllian let go; feeling the cold fingers slip away.
His dark eyes watched closely.
They watched as the man smashed into the cloak repeatedly, losing every semblance of humanity with each continuous collision.
Crackle-!
The light lit up Riley's disfigured face as he rolled upright for a moment.
'He's smiling.'
Splash...
Riley disappeared into the waters only to be torn apart by thrashing titanic tentacles.
His intestines let loose on the surface of the water, decorating it intricately while the Mutant beneath those waters swallowed it all up.
'So easy...'
Death.
It was so easy.
When Orland died it felt distant to Syllian, he hadn't held the man's hand.
But with Riley, Syllian was able to feel the life drain out of him.
And he was the one who let go.
The one who let him die.
He looked to his right while his body still hung over the ledge, catching a look at Helen's face.
She was neutral.
Unfazed.
'How?'
Syllian was no saint, nor was he a good person per se.
Still, he didn't understand how She could watch so simply when She was the source of it all.
'What's the point in trying to understand a Mutant.'
That was if she was a Mutant.
Syllian still wasn't sure what she was.
A divine being?
A monster?
Sighing, Syllian carefully stood back up as he endured the tumultuous winds.
The waters were rapidly approaching, the tentacles were rapidly approaching.
Death was rapidly approaching.
Rumble...
The Mistress of The Night shook once more.
FWISH-!
Squirming black tentacles exploded out of the water, reaching for the skies as they entranced the lady beneath them in their melodic dance.
Bang!
Smashing into the cloak, the tentacles stuck to the stone and-
"Fuck us all."
-started to climb.
Danny who was at the end of their little line looked to Crude, but Crude's face was just as pale as his.
"Someone pinch my face! This is all a dream right?!" Theon wasn't so tame with his reaction, he wanted out but unfortunately for the young man the only 'out' was death.
Syllian glared at Helen and the little girl casually glanced back.
"Pick your ass up and go, Finch!"
Theon's wobbly feet and arms looked comical as he lectured Syllian.
"I don't wanna hear that from you!"
Angry with this ridiculous turn of events, Syllian sped up his escape.
---
Fuck it burns.
My arms hurt too much.
How is that kid still going?!
Theon chased after Allen with all his might, but the extra weights strapped beneath his clothing were dragging him down.
He didn't want to throw it away though.
'Nothing is more important than food.'
Clinging to the cloak with palpitating fear, he shakily stepped up and around the outcroppings that occasionally blocked the route.
Crackle.
"Ah!" Theon jumped slightly, the bolt was distant but the young man was too sensitive to noise right now.
It was a laborious job; with little grip and the weights pulling him down every step turned into a one-mile run.
Somehow keeping up with the freak, Allen, he passed a look at the boy at the forefront.
The weakest, most demented, piece of filth he had ever spoken to.
Finch.
'Why is he leading us in the first place? Why not Crude?'
Theon was seething with frustration, he didn't like that boy and hid it very well from the boy in question.
Why?
Because it was disgusting.
Whenever the boy spoke or let out any emotion, his face would feel uneven, like an imperfect pie cooked by a child with negligible experience.
The ratios and features were there, but they didn't fit together.
It was vile.
The boy was a precipice of filth.
No matter where you looked, it was stained with the darkest and pitched sludge.
"Watch out!"
Crude's voice woke him.
Turning to the man, he saw a tentacle flash by Danny's face, missing him by a few inches.
The lucky man silently screamed, hurrying along the route as fast as he could.
It wasn't just Danny that was in danger, looking down below them; more than a dozen small, yet long tentacles were rapidly approaching.
Staring at them closely, Theon saw something off.
The tips of those tentacles weren't complete, there was a hole inside.
Squirming; the black, wormy, tentacles squelched and splattered with each other in a cacophony of slapping sounds.
And from that hole, a smaller tentacle appeared.
But that tentacle-
"DODGE!"
-wasn't connected to the rest.
Spitting it out, the miniature tentacle ripped a hole through the rain, flying toward them at a speed that the human eye struggled to capture.
A projectile.
Freezing on the spot, Theon saw the black projectile flash by his head.
Splat-!
A squashed black mess stained the cloak beside him and was mostly washed away right after by the unceasing rain.
"Go faster!"
Crude rushed the young man, they had to speed up before they turned into target practice.
Soon he caught up to Theon, but the young man wasn't moving. He was as still as the Mistress of The Night.
Nudging the idiot, Crude cast hurried looks at the incoming wave of water, projectiles, and tentacles.
"Fuck! Go!"
Nudging him, Crude belatedly noticed something was off.
Theon's head twitched.
Then started turning...
"Kurk-!"
Gurgling noises sputtered from Theon's mouth.
Groaning and squeaking through constricted vocal cords, his head cracked backwards.
And seeping down his eyes, bubbling and frothing from the depths of his lost soul...
Was coiling black worms.
Countless slithering worms.
Dripping; leaking, from within his flesh.