Adam knew something was wrong even before everybody else did. It started with a trickle and then morphed into something else, something he couldn't decipher.
This is bad. Very bad.
But who cared? Nobody.
"You have a stupid look on your face when you're losing; it's cute," Crystal had a glint in her eyes, and Adam had to force himself to look away.
"This isn't fair; you know that, right? I'm all out," he flipped his cards, which was a bad hand. Gilgamesh tried his best not to laugh, but he couldn't hold it in anymore.
"This isn't my fault!" Adam defended, even though he didn't have to.
"He's a sore loser, isn't he?" Cincinnati said, boredom leaking through her voice. He'd noticed that she'd become a little more tolerant of him lately, and he didn't want anything to ruin that. She always spoke to him dismissively, but deep inside, she did care. Somewhat. He couldn't tell about her.
"Not only a sore loser, but he's also a lame one," Gilgamesh said good-naturedly. Adam had noticed that while he was the comic relief of The Renegades, he was also the glue. He didn't know it, but Adam did. Without Gilgamesh, Crystal wouldn't know how to function. She bullied him, yes. But it was of the good-natured sort and nothing alarming.
Crystal depended on Gilgamesh for everything, even going to The Graveyard to find scraps they'd need. Gilgamesh was like a multipurpose machine, and Adam wondered if nobody else saw it.
"Shut up, I was close this time," Adam fired back, and Gilgamesh winked conspiratorially as though he knew something the rest of the world didn't.
"If you were close, I'd eat my legs. And news flash, I don't even have one." Adam had his mouth agape, and true to Gilgamesh's words, he had no legs. He was cybernetically altered, too.
"That was dark," Adam said, shocked, turning his voice into something else.
"Was it? You take life too seriously; that's why everything gets to you. If you were calmer and just let things be, you'd get more out of your life. But what do I know? I'm not the loser here," and there it was. Gilgamesh couldn't be trusted to say something sensible for a short while; he always added something else, something unnecessary.
"Stop picking on him," Crystal chided, and Adam didn't know whether to feel good about that or terrible since she came to his defense when he had nothing to say.
"What'd I do? He just can't accept a loss. It's not my fault," Gilgamesh seemed peeved, a rare occurrence.
"You're in no position to speak; even Esme has beaten you more times than I can count," while Crystal spoke, Adam tried to wrap his head around what she was saying.
He couldn't. It was too outlandish.
"I'm a gracious loser, am I not? Isn't that what counts in the end?"
Adam couldn't fault that logic. Crystal didn't have a comeback for that, and silence wore the entire group like a blanket.
"It's almost dark; we should be getting ready to turn in," Cincinnati spoke, her voice carrying to Adam, who had his eyes closed and ears strained, waiting for the void of the night. The being that made nonsense of everything he'd ever believed in.
"You guys go on ahead. Adam, come with me. Except you're scared?" Gilgamesh taunted, and Adam knew he shouldn't take the bait, but he couldn't help it. He didn't like being seen as weak or needing help. It infuriated him to no end.
"I'm not; let's go," he moved forward, and Crystal placed a hand on him, stopping him.
"You don't have to do this," she said, eyes filled with worry.
But are you worried about me as Adam or someone you're responsible for?
"I do," Adam gave her a wry smile and slowly dislodged himself from her grasp. It was hard, but he needed to prove he could be independent of her.
If only you see me as a man.
"Be safe," and Adam's heart twisted in his chest. He knew she'd say the same to Gilgamesh or any of The Renegades. He wasn't unique; he didn't mean anything to her.
And he needed to accept it.
"Let's go," he gestured to Gilgamesh, and Gilgamesh walked ahead of him, a picture of composure.
"There's something else about this place you need to know," Gilgamesh stated without preamble, but Adam was tempted to roll his eyes.
"There's always something about this place that isn't anything new," Adam snapped at Gilgamesh without intending to. But he wasn't sorry at all.
"What crawled up your ass? Well, it doesn't matter. This is more important than you know. The being of the night, void, or whatever you call it, there's a way to decipher its source."
Adam looked at Gilgamesh to be sure his legs weren't being pulled.
"I'm listening," there was no trace of banter in his tone anymore, and Adam looked as resolute as he did the first day he found himself in The Graveyard.
"You're listening, that's a first." Trust Gilgamesh always to make light of everything, but Adam wasn't in the mood.
"Please, not now." The desperation in Adam's tone was unintended, but he'd been battling with his thoughts for a while, and there had been no way out.
"Okay, sheesh. Relax. I used Michelle as a stakeout—" Gilgamesh started to say, but Adam interrupted, not unkindly.
"Michelle? Is there someone else I don't know?" He was more intrigued than worried.
"Oh, nothing as fancy as that. That's the name of my Hologram, back to the issue at hand. I did a stakeout with Michelle, and we scanned the heat signature of the being that stalks the night. I noticed a discrepancy in its function," Gilgamesh nodded to himself, and Adam was tempted to hurry him up but didn't. He didn't even know why.
"Discrepancy, eh? That's a new one. I'll save it for when I want to impress someone," Gilgamesh had slipped into his comical habits, and Adam was tempted to ask him if he had ADHD, but he didn't want to veer off course.
"Sorry, I'll continue before your glare burns through my head. We scanned the properties and found a mana stone embedded in its core. We've toyed with being watched before, but this confirmed it. Someone is playing God, and that person is human. This world doesn't exist; it has no place in the real world. It's a subspace, one that only the most prominent mages dare to create. It's not just a matter of leaving; it's a matter of… who'd let you?"
Adam said nothing, and Gilgamesh left after passing his message across. Adam just stood and stared, unmoving, unseeing.
~~
Zero was tempted to laugh at the cruel truth. The Enforcers were tasked with keeping an eye on Alistair's pet project, and he came upon it. He could hear their voices like they were in the room, feel the change in their emotions and the feelings that ran through them.
It was sickening in a fascinating way.
"I watch them, sometimes. They struggle daily. They don't know what they're up against, but they're fighting anyway. When I think about how they fight to survive, I want to do my best, too."
Zero turned to see Valerie framed in the doorway, a sad look in her eyes. But it was gone before he could be sure.
"What are you doing in the monitor room? I thought this wasn't your scene," Zero said with a raised eyebrow.
"There's a lot you don't know about me yet, and you're welcome to find out," he heard the flirty tone in her voice but disregarded it. Even if he didn't like Terry, he didn't want to come between whatever they had.
"In my own time, sure. What does watching them do to you? Do you feel yourself get changed?" He was curious since Valerie sparked his interest in the way few things ever had.
"I don't feel anything sometimes, and other times, I cry. I want to reach out to them, but how can I? They're there, and I'm here. What if I find myself in their position? Would I survive?"
Zero didn't want to be philosophical, but Valerie was making him think about things he'd much rather not.
"I wonder, too." Zero said, staring into space. The monitors beeped, but he didn't care. Something was missing, something that could change everything.
But what?
"Can we communicate with them?" Valerie whispered, and Zero finally understood what'd been missing.
Communication.
"This is treason; you know it could get you killed," Zero said after snapping his wrists, and the cameras died at once.
He hated using sigils, but some situations called for it.
"I don't mind, do you?" Valerie was testing him, he knew. What was the right decision?
"I don't mind either. And if this goes awry, blame me. Promise me you will." Zero had an intense look in his eyes, and Valerie nodded, placing a hand on her chest in a solemn vow.
"Good. Who is the smartest?" He gazed into the monitors, and footsteps approached the monitor room. Loud footsteps.
Think of something, fast!
"What is—" Terry dropped the plate of food he held, and the contents crashed on the floor. He had tears in his eyes, and hate filled his soul.
Valerie and Zero's lips were locked together, and she was pinned to the wall, a moan escaping her lips.
"I didn't see you there," Zero said, his voice hoarse.
"I thought you were cool," Red said and led Terry outside.
"Was it worth it?"
Zero wasn't sure he wanted to think about it.