Chapter 12 - Past and Resources

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His eyes shot open, and the sound of his ragged breath filled the silent room. Cold sweat ran down his entire body, soaking up the pajamas he had received. 

"What the hell? Why that, of all things?" 

He cried out to himself, whispering in a wavering voice, the thoughts playing over and over in his mind. He couldn't focus on that, on what wasn't there. He only had a future to worry about, not a past. The past never changes, even if it leaves traces that affect the future. 

"Damn... God, I sure need a moment of peace..." 

He stood up, despite his internal clock telling him it should have been around four in the morning. Time feels off when there's neither sun above your head nor light to tell you about the hour. It was just him, alone, in the middle of the room. 

He kneeled down, going on with his prayers, the thing that he kept doing whenever possible. He clung to God, his only hope, no matter what world. He had questions, lots of them, yet he kept relying on Him for peace, courage, and clarity of mind. 

Soon after, he stood back up and changed into his usual outfit, the clothes slowly racking up dirt and other random stains. The white shirt didn't help much either. With a determined groan, he put on the improvised scabbard on his back, sheathing the sword in, then grabbed his metal pipe for good measure. He still didn't know why he never bothered to genuinely use the sword. However, his lack of skills would hit the mark as far as reasoning goes. 

"What should I even do?" he asked himself, his usual habit of sorting his thoughts out loud when alone remaining the same. 

With that question lingering on his lips, his legs found their way out, guiding him unconsciously—more of a deliberate act when he tried to spin the gears in his mind. In the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Stelle and Bronya walking away. Snapping out of it, he followed, recalling the nightmare that Stelle had about Cocolia and her discussion with the Stellaron. 

"I think it's that part where Bronya is about to find out about her past. Must be it, but I'm not 100% sure." 

As he managed to reach the group, he caught sight of Natasha and Seele there. Just as expected. 

"Whatever it is that you guys are doing, I'm in as well. Gotta lend a hand here and there." 

The others turned to look at him; the presence was unexpected but not unwelcome. Seele smirked a tiny bit. 

"I should have seen this coming. No way you would stay out of this, especially after your speech." 

Mark groaned in annoyance, tired of people making fun of his heartfelt words. 

"Yeah, whatever. What are we doing?" 

Natasha smiled softly and spoke in her gentle manner. 

"I am in dire need of resources for the clinic. Your friends here have offered to help Seele recover some from a neighboring town that has been corroded by the Fragmentum. It's a pretty dangerous job, so take care, all of you." 

Mark nodded, then simply allowed Natasha to list the items she needed. He didn't bother recalling the list since his mind held it up into his face either way with the memories that kept rolling in. They were medical supplies, and he braced his back for a load of stuff that needed to be brought back. 

"Welp, time to go, right?" came his words, accompanied by a light chuckle. He was eager for it; that much was sure. 

"Yeah, we should get going," replied Stelle, giving him a tiny smirk. 

The group set out, following the path Natasha had talked about. Uneventful was the path, and Seele couldn't stop bickering with Bronya. Mark stood back, watching it all, smiling warmly. He enjoyed the company since it helped his mind focus on something else. 

"Come on now, both of you. You should learn to get along. After all, as I said when you first met, you have more things in common than you'd like." 

They both shot him sidelong glances over their shoulders, looking up at him like two kids to a parent that tried to break up their squabble. 

"Oh, will you just shut up with that?" flared out Seele, pretty pissed by his continuous interventions. 

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, I think we're already here. Rivet Town, right?" 

Seele looked around, the nostalgia evident in her gaze. 

"Yeah. Same old place. Come on, let's find some higher ground to get a better look." 

Mark chuckled, internally recalling a specific scene about someone having the high ground and the advantage it carried. 

"What's so funny?" asked Stelle from his side, a brow raised. Mark waved a dismissive hand. 

"You wouldn't get it. It's some specific thing. Come on, let's follow these two." 

Once above, the entire town came into view. Mark took the sight in—a pretty run-down place with more memories smeared across it, the traces left by the inhabitants clear as day. The whole place was a preserved slice of time, purely untouched since a specific day. The Fragmentum was the sole thing that ruined the sight. 

Seele looked up over to a higher place, where an imposing building could be seen. 

"See that? That's Natasha's old orphanage. After Oleg found me, I spent half my life in there. Some rich businessman donated that place." 

Mark's eyes quickly shifted to Bronya, who had remained silent, simply fixed on that place. He knew why, maybe better than she did at the time. Seele noticed her silence too, so she had to throw a quick jab at her. 

"Got nothing to say?" 

Bronya simply shook her head, speaking softly. 

"No, it's just... the place seems familiar somehow. Never mind." 

"Pfft, weirdo." 

Seele retort caused Stelle to scoff slightly, forcing down a smile. Mark just watched the scene, arms crossed, nodding along as he tried to recall something specific. He had a certain feeling, and yet he couldn't place it. Whatever it was, however, meant nothing good. 

"Yeah, let's just look for resources. The market is down below. Watch out for monsters, though." 

Mark walked ahead, the pipe held silently at his side. His eyes moved to the side, catching sight of a bird-like monster made out of crystal. Fight or flight instantly. His body moved with the same familiar motions of swinging something, yet not a weapon like a sword. He had some experience with work and the like, yet fighting was another discussion. 

"Experience comes with simply doing it. I gotta act out." 

As the pipe nearly crashed into it, the bird flew to the side, shooting out flames. Mark nearly yelped back, but he chose to step to the side and turn around, his legs moving firmly along the ground. He spun around, bringing the pipe above his head, smacking it down with the same force he used to split logs with. The bird cracked instantly, remaining limp on the ground. 

"Phew, I got it." 

From behind, the others walked closer. 

"At least you can take care of yourself," said Seele, clearly not impressed. Mark shrugged, knowing that it was nothing to be proud of—but for him, it was a step forward. 

"Yeah, I'm good." 

The rest of the way, Stelle, Bronya, and Seele took care of most of the monsters before Mark could even lift a finger. Somehow, they all seemed to possess skills that far outdid him, or mostly anyone he knows. 

He looked around the place, searching for whatever could be either in hiding or purely for resources scattered around. At some point, he did find a pair of gloves that seemed odd when compared to the rest of the things there. With the thought that they might be relics, he simply put them in his pocket, choosing to talk with Dan Heng later. 

"The facilities here sure look pretty well kept," said Bronya, her eyes darting around. Seele mulled the words over, then her eyes widened slightly. 

"Now that you mention it, it does seem a little... Could people still be living here? Impossible." 

Mark shrugged, wiping his nose as a little something about a robot came to mind. He didn't give it too much thought. 

"Welp, anyway, the market is up ahead. Time to clean up." 

The whole group took care of the monsters, and with how many there were, even Mark had the chance to join in on the fun, swinging his weapon to his heart's desire. 

"Phew, done," breathed out Mark as he wiped his brow. He did move around a lot and probably wasted too much energy when fighting, but he didn't mind it. He found it useful as training. 

"Time to check out the supplies." 

His eagerness was about to spill out, yet it simply vanished as the crates were empty. 

"Fuck..." he muttered under his breath, opening crate after crate, but to no avail. 

"Could it be that someone else came here for supplies before us?" asked Bronya, tracing the ground with her gaze. 

"Footsteps around." 

Seele sniffed, which Mark found funny. 

"The scent of dirt is still fresh. They can't have come too long before us." 

Mark's mind was slowly piecing something together, and yet he lacked the definite factor. 

"No matter. Let's keep checking," scoffed Mark as he began searching around the entire market, checking in every possible place. Instead of materials, however, he found a kid hiding. 

"Eric? What are you doing here? Don't you know how dangerous this place is?" 

Seele was quick to scold the kid, and Mark couldn't help but slowly realize what his mind was warning him off, yet the feeling wasn't quite there yet. 

"Something's missing, but I wonder what..." 

As their bickering went on, the kid seemed to slowly show his timid side, his facade crumbling as it was, coming down without much issue. 

"Could you share the resources with us?" asked Stelle, choosing to be more polite. He was, after all, just a kid. 

"Don't be so polite to him. Everyone knows this kid is a no-good thief. Even his clothes come off the back of another kid." 

Mark spoke sternly as he heard those words. No kid should be put in such a predicament, and there was always a reason for that. 

"Seele, shut it. You're done insulting the kid. Everyone has it rough, so no wonder he resorted to doing this." 

Seele tried to glare at him, but Mark's gaze was firm, almost like he was about to tear through her with nothing but his stare. The kid couldn't hold it in, so he simply began crying. Stelle tried to soothe him, gently caressing his head, but it didn't seem to work. He kept mumbling something about his dad, but his words weren't coherent. 

Bronya was quick to put it all together. She took off a medal she had and offered it to the kid. 

"See this blue stone in the middle? That's Geomarrow of the highest purity. Sell it to someone knowledgeable." 

The kid took it with shaky hands, his runny nose spilling out. Mark's heart broke in half at the sight, but he valued Bronya's compassion more than he could put into words. 

"T-thank you..." 

Bronya smiled at him, a warm, gentle smile that calmed him down. 

"But... you have to promise me one thing. You'll never steal other people's things again. Promise?" 

The boy nodded eagerly, his red eyes glistering with tears. 

"I promise. I'll never steal things again." 

Bronya nodded, then spoke with a tinge more sternness in her tone, scolding him softly. 

"However, if you go back on your word, I will come in with the Silvermane Guards and catch you myself. Understood?" 

The boy nodded, promising over and over that he wouldn't do it, allowing them to take all the metal plates and bandages that he had gathered. Bronya then told him off, since the path was safe because they had cleared it out, yet the kid gave them some quick tips before leaving about what road was blocked and which one was good to use. 

Still, something caught Mark's attention—the mention that there was something wrong with the large house on the hill, the orphanage.

Without much questioning, Mark and Stelle packed up the things in a box, which they then needed to carry. Seele and Bronya were discussing to the side, but Mark focused on his task. 

"So, to carry there, my arms would hurt. I should improvise something. 

Looking around, he found a solid strap that seemed to hold on neatly. He took out his sword and cut it in two shorter pieces. The strap was wide, exactly what he needed. With what level of skill he held, he tied them around the box, right at the edges, and improvised an easier way to carry them. 

"Backpack on the go. Here we go, this should do it." 

He put it on his back, and it didn't seem to bother him much against the scabbard, but it was pretty heavy, and it did press down considerably on his shoulders. 

"You sure like to make the most with what you have at hand, Mark. You made that sword in Serval's workshop, and now this. You love improvising, don't you?" 

Mark chuckled at Stelle's words, which did catch part of his essence. He loved tinkering and making random things whenever possible, but he didn't always have a need for it, or the resources needed. 

"It's just my tiny skill. But come on, let's keep going. I think Bronya and Seele took off already."