Younger Denji dashed through the concrete maze, the grime and dirt making the place both familiar and oddly unsettling. The skyscrapers created a sort of false skyline, and he could only catch glimpses of the sky above through the maze of buildings.
He kept running through the twisting alleys until he stumbled upon a tunnel made of rough concrete. Without a second thought, he plunged into the dark and dingy underbelly of this strange city, his footsteps echoing through the narrow space.
Denji's heart pounded as he glanced at the rhythmic tapping. A few droplets of water splashed down from the street above, reflecting in the dim red emergency lights of the subway tunnel. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching him. His gaze fixed on a silvery glint beside the trickle—something off about the wall.
Approaching cautiously, he noticed the wall wasn't what it seemed. The surface cracked and shifted, forming a rectangular indent like the entrance to a hidden passage. Denji's curiosity overpowered his hesitation, and he reached for the handle.
His grip tightened, and he pushed the door open, the noises on the other side growing louder. The corridor was dimly lit, the lights flickering eerily. He took a breath and stepped in.
A voice, small and chilling, seemed to resonate from the very walls around him. "Don't. Open that door," it urged, each word sending shivers down his spine. Pochita's warning echoed through the hall, a plea for caution.
Denji hesitated, his hand frozen in mid-air, nearly brushing the handle. He glanced back at the trickling water and saw those piercing blue eyes staring at him. The feeling of being trapped intensified, a primal instinct urging him to escape. Panic rising, he lunged for the door and wrenched it open.
Inside, copy Kobeni stood her eyes shining a vivid blue as they bore into him. His gaze shifted, and he noticed a man with blonde hair lying on the ground, face down. In an almost protective manner, Kobeni used the extra fabric of her black dress to curtain the man, concealing him from view.
A surreal sight unfolded before him: another version of himself sat huddled inside the room, clutching his knees to his chest, tears streaming down his face. This other Kobeni covered the man, who seemed to dissolve into the shadows of the room. It was a bewildering and unsettling revelation.
Denji stirred from his slumber, the cold air cutting through him like a knife. He rose, wrapping his arms around himself for warmth. Suddenly, a shirt and coat were tossed his way, appearing seemingly out of thin air. He glanced towards the source and found Kishibe, setting up a peculiar three-legged device in a nearby clearing.
"Angel and Kobeni are up. We've got to get going," Kishibe stated, prompting Denji's curiosity.
"Kobeni?" Denji thought, the dream still fresh in his mind. "Where are they?" he inquired.
"I sent Angel to scout the area, and Kobeni is gathering materials for a fire," Kishibe informed him. Denji remained intrigued, wondering about the connection between his dream and reality.
"How did you manage to convince Angel for the scouting mission?" Denji asked, pondering the sudden change in Angel's behavior.
"Since the crash, he's been different," Kishibe explained, wiping his forehead, sweat glistening despite the freezing temperatures. "Could be shock could be his brain didn't heal right." the old man shrugged and kept working.
"There's a town about 5 miles west from here. I can't read Russian, but it's probably Saint Petersburg," Angel reported, landing gracefully on the snow a few feet away from Denji. "I haven't seen any other signs of activity in the air—just trees, a main road, and a frozen lake about a mile south from here."
Denji scrutinized Angel, noticing a newfound vitality in his eyes. "Should we head towards the town?" he asked Kishibe, who appeared lost in thought for a moment.
"Our plane was taken down by a Devil or a fiend based on its appearance. I'd say it's likely a fiend, possibly dispatched by the Soviet military to take us out of the air," Kishibe analyzed. "We're here to capture her. As of now, only the higher-ups at the Public Safety Bureau know we're here or that we were using that plane for transportation. If the NKVD catches wind that we're after one of their fiends, they'll send a task force to investigate the crash within a few hours. Moving towards the city might allow us to blend into the crowds and escape, and then we can be extracted once enough time has passed for Makima to send a team to retrieve us."
"The mission was to capture that fiend, though," Angel reminded them.
"That was before we got shot out of the sky," Denji retorted.
"Listen, both of you," Kishibe intervened, placing his hands on their shoulders. "If the Soviets are aware that we are here, it means they might know who's here. If the NKVD realizes there are two fiends stuck in the wilderness, they will hunt us down at all costs to retrieve us. I was told that the mission is secondary, and preserving the lives of our squad is paramount."
A faint smile curled on Angel's lips. Kobeni returned, carrying an abundance of firewood, stacked high and covering her head. A silver survival knife hung at her waist, and she wore a large tan-colored furry parka, likely Kishibe's, which Denji noted was probably out of sentimentality.
"S-so what's the p-plan?" Kobeni stuttered, her speech affected by the cold.
"We'll head to the town. I have connections with a transportation company; I'll arrange the necessary papers," Kishibe stated, securing the tripod device in a survival bag. Denji finally put on the coat and approached Kobeni, grabbing some logs and wrapping them in a tarp to create a makeshift rucksack. "Let's move" Kishibe said to her, Denji and Angel followed the two into the forest.
Angel landed beside Kobeni, taking half of the remaining wood from her mittened hands. He flashed a small smile at her and walked forward with the group. The girl smiled softly, relieved that the kid was finally starting to warm up to the group.
Denji finished building a small circle of logs using the small pieces in his rucksack. Kishibe had assembled a survival tent lined with some protective metallic-looking foil. Angel dreamily sat on a rock, holding a stick with a piece of meat attached to the end of it, slowly roasting it on the fire. Where he got the fresh meat from, no one in the squad knew, but no one cared to ask. Kobeni ate a protein bar, which she retrieved from her survivalist sack.
Angel pulled the piece of meat back off the fire and showed it to Kobeni. She shook her head, and Angel just shrugged, eating the meat off the stick despite the burnt black part of it. Kishibe could swear that he heard the meat crunch when Angel ate it. He just took another swing from his flask. The mad dog really didn't know what it was about the crash that changed Angel. After the sorry landing Kishibe had given both fiends enough blood to heal fully, despite the fact that both of them legitimately died and somehow returned.
Kishibe would need to do further research on that. Given that Denji's heart was practically vaporized by the blast, maybe the boy had a near-death experience. The old man chuckled at the concept of an Angel, of all things, being greeted by the Angel of death. He found it almost comical, imagining the two acting like brooding, edgy twins.
Kobeni noticed Denji zoning out, his gaze fixated on the sky above them. "You know, back in Tokyo, you can barely see the stars. Frankly, it pisses me off," Denji muttered to no one in particular. "Back when I was a kid, I had to sleep in the forest, so usually, I got to spend my nights looking up at the stars. Here, it's different though, you know? Different stars, moons in a different spot too."
"You had to sleep in the forest?" Kobeni questioned.
"It was just me and Pochita back then. Usually, we would find a little clearing and bundle up under a warm blanket," Denji reminisced. He laid back on the tarps, placing his arms under his head, and stared up into the sky.
Angel also looked up, gazing at the water of the lake and then at a sky full of stars. Sitting next to a fire, it reminded him of some place that he couldn't seem to remember. He felt calmed by it. The dream was still focused in his mind, as if it were an important memory. He clung to it. But right now, in that moment, looking out onto the water, he could have sworn that at any given moment, the one who loved him would wrap her arms around him.
Tears began to well up in his eyes. He hadn't felt such pain before in the entire time he could remember. It was so painful, like a hole in his very being was burning him up from the inside. He brought his hand to his face, covering it. Grateful that Kishibe had retreated into the tent, Kobeni, in her protective parka with her scarf and mittens, wrapped her arms around the boy. They just sat there while he quietly wept. His face didn't change, but the tears kept bubbling up.
Denji watched the two, his thoughts drifting as he gazed at the night sky. His hand rested on his chest, feeling the gentle beat of his heart. "Pochita. I miss you, buddy," he whispered to himself. Slowly, he dozed off, lulled by the crackling of the fire and the tranquility of the wilderness around them.