Dym

Out the window she stared, blood dripping down it's smoked surface as rain pounded down outside, singing the paint it slapped against as the caked, dry crimson cracked, clinging to her forehead and eyelids as she pulled them open, slow and painfully as she reached up, roughly pushing the knuckle of her weave glove into her eyebrow ridge, flakes of blood clinging to the carbon before falling away as she coughed. Outside? There was no outside anymore. She looked up, peering through the glass. Above sat clouds so thick that they may as well be a ceiling. There was no outside anymore, only more of the hell they had made.

The hum of a far away bird cracked through the thick air, floating by as lights pierced the smog, a sleek VTOL speeding past the window as she stared out, the looming bodies of towering skypiercers throwing themselves upwards, barely shadows as they glowed, the glittering billboards and burning windows throwing shards of sun out into the darkness between them, bridged only by thin darts of hallways that stretched from blocky sentinel to block. A deep growl echoed through the hallway, followed by a slam, snapping her attention from the dreary outside to the dim inside, the smell of copper and smoke thick as another slam threw itself through the wall towards her, clawing at her ears, pressing down on her heavily clad shoulders and the failing body within the clothes. She pushed up, thighs straining as she struggled, pushing up from her sideways seat to rest on all fours, shoving up to her unstable feet, clutching her rifle in one hand, the other patting her hip, checking for the blade. It was there.

She glanced up, the lights had long since died, replaced with an ominous red blare, passing by her face once a second, spinning like a pirouette in it's confinement on the ceiling. Another bang, growing closer. She glanced down, the bodies of her squad laying around her.

Guess it was her job to hold the line.

A glass and steel clad body was flung down the corridor, past the corner to slam into the wall with a sickening crunch as whatever was left in the bag of fabric and skin crumpled as easily as paper, the thin plates of steel bending easily and scraping against each other. Erika stumbled slightly, stepping back and then slumping over to the side, reaching out to catch herself on the wall to her left, staring down the corridor into the darkness, the beam of red above her still spinning in it's cage, illuminating the blood-coated shattered glass resting around the body of somebody she might've known once. She leaned over, coughing quietly as she pressed her hand to her forehead, the other still holding her rifle. She stepped back, stumbling to stand in the middle of the hallway.

"Fuck are the angels when you need them." She grumbled, bringing the rifle up to brace it's stock against her shoulder as she gripped its body and the handle, her finger twitching as it rested over the trigger. Another slam, followed by the growing sound of footsteps. They sounded... Clicky. As though something were walking on claws. Erika buckled down, bending at the knees slightly as she held the rifle like a lover. There was nothing else behind her, nothing but the way to the civilian blocks. They couldn't fully lock down, there was still one open corridor.

The one she was standing in.

Pretty shitty last line of defense, if you asked her.

The footsteps grew closer, echoes growing into screeches as slow clack after clack padded towards her, the corner glaring at her every time the red beam passed over it, the pool of blood growing every time the light slid by. Erika flicked the safety, breathing slow as she steeled herself, the splitting pain in her head screaming bloody Mary into her thoughts as the footsteps reached a crescendo.

Time came to a stop, the red beam over her head spinning as lazily as a broken ceiling fan as it graced the window, glaring lightly against the glass.

It turned and turned, casting wire frame shadows as it passed around over her head, brushing against the helmet resting by her feet, glinting off the plates on her arms and the collar of her breastplate. Slipping across the bloody walls, the dents, the corpses around her, and then it elongated, running down the corridor to paint an ugly face. It stood, watching her, still in her gaze like a deer in headlights as it stared back. The creature was tall, it's rippling shoulders and head practically brushing the ceiling, though it was generous to call it a head. It melted downwards, pulling it's open mouth down along the neck to between the shoulders, the gaping hole lined with teeth that pulled apart sideways, twitching nervously like mandibles. It stood on five thick legs with too many joints, zig zagging up to meet it's torso. Two in front, two in the middle, one in the back. It appeared it had done the majority of it's suit crushing and hurling with those. It had nothing in the way of sensory organs, best she could tell, but she was sure it could taste her sweat from down the hallway. The red lights kissing it's oddly tinted blue-ish gray skin only made it more menacing as it began to move, twitching as it proceeded a step closer, and then another

And then the calm broke, giving way to storm.

It began rushing down the corridor towards her, one dagger-like back foot digging into the wall beside it as it lifted partially, using as much leverage to get close as possible. Erika stood her ground, squinting with contempt as she squeezed the trigger. Her rifle made a clunk, hissing angrily at her before fizzing. Jammed.

Well shit.

C'mon girl, think quick. It was approaching quickly, maybe a few more seconds at best? The closest weapon was in her hands, after all. She tossed up the gun, catching it two handed by the barrel as she stepped back to brace, remembering what her father had never taught her as she planted, pulled back, and swung as hard as she could muster. She put every ounce of her weight and body into the swing. Erika felt it connect, a crack and squelch filling the corridor and her ears as gunk sprayed out from the now torn jaw of the creature as it stumbled hard, crashing to her side mouth first into the wall beside her with a blood-curdling scream before thrashing, kicking out. In her stupor, she only barely dodged a barbed foot, the bony protrusion passing by her face with a whiff of iron as she snapped back, readjusting her grasp on the barrel of steel that now was nothing more than a bludgeoning tool. A glorified meat tenderizer. While it thrashed, trying to get it's feet under it again, she took the opportunity to swing again, slamming the stock into one of the legs kicking against the floor, snapping the joints in multiple directions as it screeched again. She didn't stop, slamming the stock into another leg, aiming to cripple as she slammed it down again and again as it thrashed, crushing it's front legs as it's back legs kicked upwards, missing her.

The gold blood was pretty, she thought.

The red of the lights above glinting off of it was glorious, even as the sticky substance sprayed with the crunch of bone and cartilage, the snapping of tendons music to her ears as she smiled, slamming the stock down again, dusting the bones in one of the legs as she tossed it up to catch the rifle again, butt down as she held the barrel like she meant to pull it from a stone. She then took a step away, and then rammed the butt into it's side to knock the creature over, before she bent over, picking a rifle from one of her deceased squad, pulling back the slide as she aimed at the squirming mass of flesh and teeth.

She lined up the shot, pursing her lips with a sneer. She shut her left eye, glaring with her right as she met it's sorry head with the barrel's gaze.

"Bang." She uttered, pulling the trigger.

With a sharp and sudden gasp, she shot up, a thin and cheap blanket trickling from her shoulders to pool around her waist as her chest rose and fell with heavy breath. She ran a hand through her hair, dragging out a knot or two from her mess of white hair, down to her shoulders as she tried to catch her breath. She was in her room, not… Not where she dreamt. She was fine. It was all fine. She swallowed hard, swinging her legs around to get up and out of bed, clearing her throat, her tongue like sandpaper. Her mouth was dry, ironic considering the cold sweat that had seeped into the collar of her loose shirt. Padding through her empty apartment, her gaze glazed over plenty, drifting lightly over the sparse decor she'd bothered with. It was a fairly new place, the walls were still largely un-disturbed, and Erika had done nothing to upset the clean white. A table here, a sofa there, a TV mounted there, a strange painting she didn't like very much on the wall there in the hallway, it was an odd assortment, nothing quite matched, and she felt at home.

Soon enough, soft footsteps came to a stop as she dug through her cabinets, picking out a small packet with the simple icon of a steaming cup plastered on its front. Tearing it open, she dumped its contents into an empty mug on the counter, turning to fill a kettle to put on the stove. Flicking the heat on, she retired herself to the small island in the center of her kitchen, leaning back onto her elbows as she shut her eyes for a moment, shaking her head as she leaned all the way back, letting her hair fall back and out of her eyes.

Her head hurt.

Probably the whiskey.

Maybe she just needed caffeine.

Migraine?

She sighed heavily, reflexively running her hand through her hair again before straightening up, pursing her lips for a moment.

"Oi. Play Mocamalline by Debonair." A pleasant whisper hissed past, a pleasant voice echoing around her.

"Of course. Playing: 'Mocamalline by Debonaire 27.'" A gentle, long and fake string rang, slowly building into a melody she recognized well. So well in fact, that she muttered along with it, fingers tapping on the counter as her kettle started vying for her attention, whining on the stove. Erika rolled her eyes pushing up to cross, picking up the handle and pouring it in her cup, setting it back down as she took up her cup.

What a comforting color. Murky brown, closer to black. She swirled it, watching the smallest grains of powder floating on the top of the liquid, clumps dissolving in as she twisted away, walking to the light to flick it on. She blinked hard a couple times as a warm yellow light poured into her room from the ceiling. It was the color of an early sunset, just after the pink dies away and it starts to become a rich orange, the thick band of blue underneath. She collapsed onto her sofa, cradling her mug as she took a cautious sip, the screaming heat of the cheap coffee incredibly welcome, melting the taste of waking up from her teeth.

The thick scent of coffee was enough to force her eyes open, Enough to remind her she had work. She glanced down, eyes flicking over her thin fingers, interlaced and wrapped around the mug, she could make out the calluses on the tips of her fingers, along her thumb, a reminder. Of her firearm, of her knife. Of the people and the things she'd killed with them. It gave her a light satisfaction.

She was the one still alive.

She was the monster, and all the filth feared her eyes, feared her white-top hair when she peeked out from their closet at night.

Jamelin sighed, setting her head against the wall, pulling her knees up against her chest, drawing her blanket up to wrap around herself. The quiet screamed in her ears, filling the room and grating against her mind as she reached out to snatch something off her bedside. She took the small buds, pressing them into her ears. They chirped quietly, before beeping. She pressed one and was immediately met with the somber collection of chords she’d been listening to earlier on the train. She listened for a moment, before snatching up her phone too, turning it on. She squinted as the light pooled about her, dymming it down before flicking through her playlist, picking a song out before setting her phone back down, taking a deep, slow breath. Jamelin sniffled quietly, pinching the bridge of her nose as her other arm wrapped around her shins. The darkness swallowed her, eating at her will to stay awake, a deep throbbing in her chest all that stayed alight. Jamelin pinched the bridge of her nose tight before relenting, setting her eyes against her palm as she bit back another sniffle, before it broke her thin wall. Tears welled up along her eyes as she began to cry, quiet sobs running through her like shocks. She shook silently, the other arm tight around her shins, clutching them like a poor substitute for the fantasy that anybody would hug her.

Damn this job. Damn this world. Damn the people in it.

Nothing, nothing but the same small corridors. The same store, the same 10 minute smoke breaks, the same day after day of standing at the register ringing up the few poor sops like her on the low end, working dead end jobs to afford a dead end life in the lower floors of the piercers.

Jamelin's thumb pressed against the screen, dragging up as the music grew louder, the sound flooding her thoughts, though some floated still, clawing at her conscience for purchase, digging painful gashes with desperate fingers. She clutched herself tighter, taking another deep breath, but only making it halfway. It threw itself back out rudely as a sob escaped her, and soon she sat, knees to her chest, one arm around them as the other kept wiping at her eyes as she cried. The world crushed in on her from every side constantly, the pressure to be something, the pressure to matter, squeezing her against the ceiling like she was being suffocated by a boulder on her chest. It never relented, her distractions limited and short-lived.

She would die like this. Worthless, poor and alone. They all would, down on this economic rung.

"It's okay. You're… You're o-okay. It's… It's going to be okay." Jamelin whispered before chewing on her lip, trying to dam the tears now running freely.

Maybe she should get to sleep.

She had work tomorrow.

But she wasn't tired. She was just…

The thought bled from her as she shifted down her bed, rolling back to set her head on the pillow, rolling onto her side and pulling her knees back to her chest. She'd let the music keep going. Maybe it'd help her…

Help her fall…

Asleep.

"Lonely? Tired? Feeling suppressed? Take Crush! One simple injection and the world gets bright again.

Side-effects may include: Psychosis, temporary chip failure, heart palpitations, heart disease, heart failure, liver failure, kidney failure, temporary paralysis, loss of vision, difficulty breathing, impaired movement, temporary memory loss and death.

Crush your troubles, crush a pack."

The low whine of the air conditioning unit and the unpleasant taste of stale air cycled in and out, lightly grasping at stray strands of hair as it passed by, occasionally brushing enough forwards that she would grow animate once more to brush it back, tucking the black shroud behind her ear for it to escape again a few minutes later.

A soft bell rang out, the door opening. She didn't perk up, there was no reason to. Or at least, she didn't care enough to have one. Through half lidded eyes she lazily followed the man through the shop, watching him disappear behind a shelf, before reappearing near the back, picking through the brightly colored cans of bliss and the few packs of Crush they still had in stock. Once deciding on two cans and a bag of the stuff, he started wandering towards her, glancing around at marked down trash and synthetic smiles. Soon, he came to a stop in front of her, dumping the three items on the counter. She picked the first up, running it by a thin slit in the counter, it's serial and cost popping up on the holographic screen beside her, followed by the next, and the next as an advertisement so vibrant it hurt her eyes flashed behind her. She handed the items back as he brushed the inside of his wrist against the reader sitting in front of her, not bothering to glance back as he turned and left.

That was about as exciting as her day got, usually.

In the dym light that was precariously brushed against her brow, an unsettling sound crept into her ear.

It was a rather pleasant ding, unassuming and joyful, but it was often the herald of hell. A forbearer of pain, whispering to her to check her inbox for the next scar or pay cut. She shut her eyes for a long moment, taking a deep, deep breath through her nose, exhaling sharply before shifting over, flicking past a few displays before picking the one she wanted, pressing in. The screen blinked for a few moments, a spinning dial in the center before finally clicking, the dark internals of her mail glaring back at her as she read the first subject she could find.

[DNR: Promotion]

Promotion?

.Weren't those usually death sentences?

She opened it, dark mode pleasant on the eyes as the message flicked open.

[DNR: Promotion]

[Erika Winters,

We hope this message finds you in commission.

You have been selected for a promotion. As you are most likely aware, all of CM Squad 5439 excluding you are deceased. After some deliberation, the squad will not be remade, instead you have been moved to operative status. If you choose to accept, you will begin Monday. A partner will be chosen from a randomized pool, as staff are running short considering current affairs.

Good luck,

Goodbye.]

[CM TECHNOLOGIES AND DEFENSE GSE

do-not-reply-cmentity÷cmtdgse

799th Block, 180-240th Floor]

Erika squinted slightly, leaning in just a tad to reread one line. Once, twice, even a third time before pinching the bridge of her nose, shutting her eyes once more.

"A partner, eh? That's gonna be a... Big pain in the ass."

The same.

It was always so painfully similar.

There she sat, her phone clutched close in her lap, a small satchel resting at her hip as the maglev trundled on, pulling the air outside along behind it as it tore down the track, the inside eerily quiet. Rarely were the trains deserted, but Jamelin had worked it out. Every hour on the clock, her work station had one train that would go straight from work to the housing sectors. If she waited long enough, she could catch an empty one and enjoy silence, one of the rarest commodities in the new era.

A lovely one.

Her music quieted itself for a second, a small chime whispering over it like a paper passed over a stack of work as one eye cracked open, the soft touch of a woman's voice and the harsh sound of digital instruments swelling back into her personal bubble as she glanced down, looking at the screen.

[CMT&D Job Offer]

[Jamelin Veraths, We hope this message fin...]

She paused for a moment, squinting slightly as she swiped at it, thumb shaky as it took her more than one try. In went her password and thumbprint and finally, a message, glowing against her eyes as it cast upwards.

[CMT&D Job Offer]

[Jamelin Veraths,

We hope this message finds you in commission.

You have been selected as a potential candidate for an operative position here at CM TECHNOLOGIES AND DEFENSE©. We have reviewed the portfolios and complaints from multiple members of the general populous and have noticed a general disinterest in your current occupation, and a waste of applicable talent.

We would like to encourage you to come into our office for an evaluation at the 799th block at the 180th floor at your earliest convenience, though it is preferable that you come this Saturday at any time between 8:00 AM and 10:00 PM.

Thank you for your consideration,

Goodbye.]

[CM TECHNOLOGIES AND DEFENSE© GSE

do-not-reply-cmentity÷cmtdgse

799th Block, 180-240th Floor]

The CM? What did they want with her?

A new job? It was true she hated the one she held at the moment, the days were so incredibly mundane, the pay was less than minimum and the hours were long... Anything to get away from it for good. Maybe this would pay better, CM were leading much of the defense and design industries after all.

Maybe she'd check that evaluation out…

"Clang!"

"Crash!"

"Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!"

The wet slap of bloody knuckles and flesh coated bones colliding filled the room, pouring into her ears like syrup and sticking to her skin like fog, condensing on her brow as she threw her fists forwards again and again. She was silent, despite her mouth being wide open, throat ripping itself apart as she screamed in putrid hate, pulling back for a moment before lunging forwards. Her left arm tucked in, the right coming forwards with her weight as her fist twisted out, connecting with cheek as she emptied all her might into it, the sound that bled reminiscent of paper being crumpled. She mouthed words, but none came out, all she could hear was the walls and blood pounding in her ears, the room red and filled with rage. The lights were dym, almost as though they were peering down a tunnel, through the bloody fog she stood in. Her shoulders and biceps burned, her hands were sore and her knuckles felt broken. Her nose was bent and her lips were cut and cracked, her tongue nearly bit in half as she relished in her momentary victory as she heard boots down the hall. Only difference this time? They had guns.

She whipped around, a fist coming up before freezing. The ventilation seemed to breathe life into the room again, it's hum overpowering the pounding in her ears as her vision cleared, the fog fading as she stared into Em's eyes. She shrugged the hand off her shoulder, dropping her hands, gloved with bandages as she rolled her head.

"Whatcha want?"

"You okay, Erika? You looked a little crashed there."

"M'fine. Mind your own business."

"Yeah yeah, wanna go get a coffee or something?"

"I… Fuckin'... Give me 3 minutes to get my shit in a locker." She paused for a moment. "It's been a while since we talked."

Em smiled, giggling quietly as she patted Erika on the shoulder. "There's the bad bitch. See ya in 3." She said, winking as she wandered back off towards the bench press she'd been at to collect the pod and bag she'd left.

Erika turned away, taking a deep breath as she looked about the room. It wasn't a very busy gym, now that she was looking, but they'd all faded out. She'd practically forgotten they existed. She refocused, glaring down the padded plates mounted on springs and hinges, coils designed to have the same give as a human's ribcage. The plates were dented from abuse, she'd been here almost every day of every week for months, whenever she was off a job or had a break, she'd come here, beating the husk with blind rage. It reminded her of things she despised, it gave her a sadistic satisfaction to relive caving his face in, of inverting his nose and busting his lip, hearing the visceral cracks of ribs and the screaming as she used his cruel creation against him. She unwrapped her hands as she crouched, pulling them from her bloodied, split knuckles as she shook her head, sweat flying from her hair and jumping from her brow as she grabbed a towel from her pack, wiping down her forehead and putting it around her neck as she picked up the pack, turning away from the steel spider of punching pads.

She'd return, of course, but it had it's solace for now.

"You will have 20 seconds. Please hit as many targets as you can. The test will begin in two minutes, please use your weapon of choice."

Jamelin blinked hard, she hadn't been expecting this. She should've been, in hindsight, but she was in it now. No time to practice. A table lay before her against the back wall of the range, laden heavily with a wide assortment of firearms, and a couple stacks of throwing weapons. The axes looked particularly interesting, tipped with sickle blades with thick bodies but thin connectors. She perused for a short moment, picking out an MF67, the cool metal of the auto pistol interesting in her hands, but it was not her choice. She set it back down, deciding on a much larger DMR, hefting the rifle before sitting it's stock against her shoulder, looking down the sight as she flicked the safety on and off. It would work. She picked up a couple cells as well, shoving them in a hoodie pocket as she walked to the range booths, stepping into one to grab a pair of muffs. Despite the leaps in weaponry, they could still blow your ears out in a confined space. She didn't imagine they silenced these.

"Fifteen seconds."

She hefted the rifle once more, correcting her stance as she braced it, grabbing one cell to jam it into the slide beside the trigger, the nostalgic hum of the older models layering over the actual sound of the weapon waking up. Servos warmed, circuits cooled and energy pooled as she took a deep breath, lining the sight with her eye. She pulled the slide back and shoved up, the snick of a lock making sure the cell was pressed in tight.

"Ten seconds."

She took another deep breath, holding it for one, two, three, before exhaling shakily.

"Fi-"

With a deep hush, the room went incredibly silent. The lights died, fading into a harsh darkness before the faintest red light awoke in the far corner, spinning like a pirouette in its cage, highlighting eerie silhouettes of targets down range, before suddenly there was a flash and the sheet of plastic beside her head exploded.

It was violent and loud, punching through and hitting a wall behind her as she dropped down onto her knees, propping the weapon she held on the counter as she swept the room with a cautious eye, before catching a moving shape in the corner of the sight, swinging quick enough to land a carefully placed shot between two targets, sending the assailant to their knees as they yelped, pressing a hand to their waist. She fired a second time, nailing them in the shoulder as she swung up, still searching the room carefully. A blurry streak whizzed towards her from the corner opposite the light, speeding over her head as she ducked before aiming, firing twice at the furthest target. One bolt hit the target with an incredible light show in the dark, before the other pierced, slamming into what she could only assume to be a person, considering the grunt and the body that fell back from the minimal cover.

Jamelin ducked back, quiet as she could muster in a pair of boots as she shifted aside on her knees, moving towards the door, or at least another booth. It would become easy to pick her off if she stayed in the same spot.

The sound of shuffling told her she wasn't alone by a long shot, continuing even as she stopped at a booth, pressing in and against the short wall, hugging her rifle across her torso at a diagonal, breathing slowly, listening as close as she could. The footsteps grew closer and she gripped the handle and barrel, prepared to swing it around as her legs tensed, her middle wound tighter than a spring. More footsteps, nearing as close as the initial row of targets. She shot up to her knees, whipping around to slam the DMR down onto the wall and emptying multiple shots in the direction of the sound before putting her eye to the lens, pulling the rifle up to rest the stock against her shoulder again, waiting for movement. Only the sounds of pain.

And then the lights flooded back in, the AC unit kicked back up, and the room hummed once more.

"Congratulations. You've passed the examination. Please proceed to the lobby and address the receptionist to meet your partner."

Jamelin straightened up, blinking hard again. Her eyes had just adjusted to the dark… The three she'd shot were rousing themselves, shedding bulletproof conduit vests and pulling off sleeves, paying her zero heed. "Wh-"

One of them spoke up, "Yeah. Confused me too. Good luck." They said, before continuing, picking up their pistol and clapping one of the others on the back as they began to leave towards a thin door against the side wall. Jamelin shook her head, flicking the safety back on as she set the DMR on the table, continuing towards the stoic exit door.

What exactly was she getting herself into?

"Obviously, this is not just your normal objective. You've been a squad leader, yes, but you haven't been an operative. Stick to the rules, you'll be fine. You two need to track down a particularly elusive host of V-14, somewhere in the deep district." A thin, wiry man said as he set a vanilla folder on the table, clearing his throat as he leaned forwards a smidge.

"14? Thought that only showed up in the under," Jamelin chimed in, rubbing an anxious thumb against her thigh as she listened closely. Erika rolled her eyes heavily, sighing with a voice dripping with exasperation.

"Yes, but sometimes they make it out from the under, dumbass."

The briefer scowled slightly, reaching out to grasp the folder, flipping it open to spread out a small stack of photos and papers. "Your two need to work together closely for this one, so I'd best not see any more of this, lest you get yourselves killed. We're low on hands as it is-"

"Clearly." Erika muttered, leaning forwards slightly to peer at the photos. Most of them were blurry with movement, showing a slightly worrying visage. Something rather stocky but wide, flesh melting into an odd pool with exposed bone and tendon, while skin sloughed off in some places and built up too thick in others. The final few on the table were clear, most centered on the host. They looked half asleep, but had an exorbitant amount of sensory organs. Multiple ears, eyes and mouths looked to have been stapled haphazardly onto the head and a few even rested on the neck that had begun melding into the jawline to connect it to the collarbone and shoulder.

"The host has incredible spatial awareness, not very good logic. You're going to need to corner it."

"Oh joy. Are we allowed to kill it or is that off the table too, stuckup?" Erika asked, tone chilled with sarcasm and contempt.

"Just make sure you keep your masks on and call for a cleanup team when you're done." He replied, doing his best to ignore her comment.

Jamelin pursed her lips, "So when do we get weapons?"

"Right about now, once we're done here."

The muted tugging of cloth followed them as they progressed down the hallway, the soft click of a buckle whispering to the walls as Erika fumbled rather angrily with a small clip set above the small of her back. Jamelin cleared her throat, her's had gone on relatively easy.

"You uh… Need some help?"

"M'fine. Just don't get in the way."

Jamelin rolled her eyes, but kept pace, slightly behind Erika and to the left as she watched her thumb at the clip under her coat.

It wouldn't be good to overstep already. She'd let her "partner" work on it herself for now. Instead of bickering, Jamelin focused on the dym light, pooling over their heads like oil on a thick water base of shadow, swimming over their heads to drown them, a small dot of light resting at the end of the tunnel. It glared deep, but not deep enough to pierce the twilight. Finally, Erika shoved the buckle into place with a soft snick, before shrugging the harness up her shoulder a bit, her coat shifting with her as she did, the lengthier side swinging beside her against her leg. A small lattice of springs and bearings offered her an equal weight distribution, resting on her shoulders and strapped around her waist, pressing down on her hips as she walked. It made carrying the plating easier, and would make using the coat easier as well. She hadn't been given the specifics, but apparently the coat could swing up into a weapon, however that worked.

Jamelin's was a little simpler, a similar design with one side longer than the other that wrapped around over the other side and covered most of her left leg, a lattice of straps keeping it close against her, a thin slip in the cloth resting in wait. She could slip her arm into it and supposedly the cloth would solidify upon impact and would protect against the majority of both firearms and blunt trauma weapons.

Supposedly.

It also came with a holster attached to the strap around her hip, which was then attached to the coat. It wasn't too terribly large, it fit a fairly simple pistol. One they promised packed a bit of a punch. A few spare cells rested in a pocket sewn into the jacket, wrapped over her midsection.

Jamelin tugged the cloak shut again, this time buttoning the strap that wrapped around her waist. Her footsteps came a little quicker as she realized she'd fallen a few paces behind, catching back up to Erika. Her… Well, companion was a strong word. Perhaps "mentor" would fit better? Only perhaps, it didn't seem to taste in her mouth like she would've liked it to.

A resounding bang cracked the air in half, shattering the careful, concentrated breath that the room and it's inhabitants had been holding, robbing them all of air as noise rushed in to fill their lungs and drown their vision out. An inquisitorial eye peered in, it's color that of midnight, grotesquely large and covered in a thick film of slime as it brushed across the space, staring in through the new crack in the wall. A lattice of oddly colored gray veins pierced the flesh, snaking across the fleshy sphere, stagnant with their contents. The rope-like stabs of color across the black surface didn't move themselves, but twitched with the convulsions of the eye as it watched them. Jamelin continued her task with a renewed vigor, hunched over a small but not insignificant pile of wires and metal. Erika grasped the handle of her rifle a little tighter, flicking the safety off as she tentatively pulled the barrel from the floor to point towards the eye, swinging it around to line it up with an empty hole in the wall, the darkness beyond it's maw almost as thick as ink, threatening to pour into the room and swallow up the weak fluorescents above them like catching a firefly in a matt black jar.

"Can you go any faster?" Erika asked, her foot twitching just as her eye as she clenched the handle and the barrel of her weapon tight, sweat beading her forehead and running down her neck as her fingers turned white, the blood squeezed from them. Jamelin shook her head, reaching up with a sleeved forearm to wipe her eyes, clearing her throat.

"No." She said simply, hand dropping back down to grasp a rubber-tipped pair of pliers, putting them back into the mess. The sweat on her fingers caused the handle to slip slightly, just before she could readjust, a soft fizz hissing out at her before she yanked it away, the circuits rather forgiving as her breath hitched. She had to be on her toes, one wrong move, and the whole room would go up in flames.

Another snap, this one a little more muffled, perhaps from above, before a loud thunk. The ceiling caved slightly, groaning with it's new load, before another thunk, and another. Something with footsteps. Something with very long footsteps. Erika's gaze snapped up, her eyes wavering slightly as she tracked the sound. Her ears twitched. She was glad she kept her finger off the trigger, her hand was shaking. It hadn't in a long time, but most of the time, she wasn't this scared. The stakes weren't usually this high.

She was not usually afraid of death like this.

Erika shut her eyes for a moment, trying to understand why. Comprehension came like a flashbang, tearing her eyes back open quickly. She understood. It was because she rarely had something to lose, but now? There was something she cared for, it wasn't nameless civilians, it wasn't a power core, not a generator or a snarky scientist…

Whatever it may've been, she would fight tooth and nail to keep it safe.

The room seemed to shudder, prompting Erika to back up slightly, standing a little closer to Jamelin, the proximity offered her slight comfort. Jamelin hissed, flicking a hand, having touched a rather heated part of the circuit.

"I've almost got it." She whispered, as though she were afraid of alerting what lurked outside. The eye that peered in blinked before heaving upwards, disappearing from view, leaving a pool of viscera by the crack it had been watching them through. The yellowed light seeped through the crack, giving the pool of blood an orange-ish hue. Beyond the pool was darkness, but the blood trailed outwards, disappearing into the shade, though Erika knew an abandoned section of the complex rested in its direction. She'd rather not test her luck with heading that way. From above, there was a scrape, followed by more footsteps, the sound of shearing metal reminding them something was busy at work.

There was no simple escape.

Jamelin practically fell back, her legs unfolding on either side of the hunk of machinery, her back and head against Erika's leg as she huffed heavily, her chest rising and falling erratically.

"Done."

Erika nodded, reaching up to grasp the hood behind her own head, yanking it up over her messy mop of short-cut hair, shoving the white mop back under the metallic hinge. The hood was made of sheet metal, an intricately folding collection of plates that slid under each other, a thin film of plastic fabric over it all to keep fluid out. It locked into place just below her hairline as she reached under to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. She held her rifle at her side by the grip with one hand, offering Jamelin the other hand to help her up. Jamelin looked up, wiping the sweat from her brow with her sleeved left, before sighing heavily, bowing her head as she sat forwards before twisting around to catch Erika's hand, pulling herself up to stand, shoving off her knees.

"Time to get out of here." Jamelin remarked, shoving up her sleeve to look at the watch that was strapped to the black material wrapped over her wrist. It was simple, just a flat screen with a single number on it.

232.

231.

230.

It was steadily ticking down, once a second the number would drop.

"It was time to get out of here an eternity ago." Erika grumbled, taking up her rifle again to hold it diagonally across her torso. Jamelin rolled her eyes, reaching into her coat to grab the pistol strapped to her hip, pulling back the slide to peer in. The glowing center still burned electric, the small lines along its body still bright, except for the three along the front. Another 17 of them were lit with neon blue along the body of the cell. She let the slide snap back shut,

"Yeah yeah, but now's better than never." She said, nodding towards the exit, a rusted door propped open with a chunk of metal that had collapsed from a cracked wall, the other side containing a mess of wires that were empty of current. Erika nodded in affirmation, taking a step that echoed, before taking another, her walk slowly ramping to a jog, the sound of Jamelin's boots following after giving her a sense of safety. Just a small one, but any reassurance was welcome.

Jamelin glanced down at her wrist again, fumbling with her sleeve, pistol occupying most of her right hand.

215.

214.

213.

She let her sleeve fall back over the glowing display, shaking her head as she jogged after Erika, dreading being left alone in the dym hallway. Maybe if she didn't look, time would cease to bleed away from them.

Erika's jacketed back was nice to look at, in comparison to the molded walls and the occasional pock mark, a slab of woody looking, gray, ribbed flesh staring out from the other side. The smell of rotting flesh was incredibly unsettling and thick enough that they were practically wading through it as they ran, leaving Jamelin hoping only to breathe the shitty smogged air of the surface, maybe even to puff on a cheap cigarette. Anything to free her from this burning scent. She doubted any amount of scalding hot showers would ever get it off her skin. Her thoughts continued to wander, a form of protection. If she focused on the situation, she would grow too shaky and uncertain to keep going. She gripped her pistol with both hands as she ran, following the comforting light that bled from the side of Erika's rifle. A flashlight was mounted onto it with a swivel, such that she could point it forwards or to the side if she was carrying it casually.

And then the world went white.

A loud noise shook Jamelin from her thought-induced stupor as the ceiling above them snapped in half, a mess of stringy white roots and a large, clawed, gray and black limb shot out from the hole as wires and scraps of metal swung outwards as the "hand" swung, catching Jamelin by the shoulder, slamming her other into the claustrophobic wall of the service tunnel, the crash sickeningly loud as it echoed, a blood curdling shriek pouring out of the crack above as Jamelin's breath was ripped from her lips. She gasped quietly, shoving up off the wall as she stumbled slightly, clutching her shoulder, pistol hanging limply in her left as she grasped her shoulder with her right, wincing. Erika pivoted around as Jamelin ducked, a spray of bright bullets flew over her head, punching holes through the tough hide of the limb, hissing with the heat as it boiled the black liquid that dripped like molasses before the limb pulled back roughly, the ripped up metal tearing flesh off, dumping it rudely on the floor as the two stared.

Erika grasped Jamelin by the elbows, holding her steady.

"You okay?" She asked, her breath coming sharp, her hood hiding the majority of her face in the incredibly dym light, the flashlight Erika carried the only light as it bounced off the wall behind Jamelin. Jamelin nodded, catching her breath.

"Let's just get out of here. I'll be fine. Until we're out."

Below the coats, the two wore skin-tight suits that were supposedly flame retardant, considering the possibility of the explosion stretching further than expected, one of them being caught in it, or even worse, the larger packs of thermite that had been set up going off prematurely.

At this rate, the two had a shared hope.

That the promise of protection from the fire would be upheld.

The flames burned.

They burned so incredibly hot, licking at her arms and torso as she waded through them, cooking within the suit. It kept her from charring to a crisp, but they hadn't mentioned it barely did anything to offset heat. No innate cooling, just a little flat insulation.

The visor over her face, she felt as though it would've been better if it fogged up. At least then she wouldn't have to see the hell she was stumbling through. Twisted metal and broken fixtures twisted and jutted out of her surroundings as wires and blood singed each other, hanging from the ceiling and coiling about her boots. She blinked hard, sweat dripping off her eyelashes to hit the glass of her visor and slide down it as she took a long, deep breath, pressing forwards. She knew she was looking for somebody.

She knew they were alive, still.

They had to be alive. They had to.

The flames roared and grew, hot and stifling as they poked and sniffed at her suit, looking for a way in, chewing through it slowly, not with teeth, but with temperature. She knew her own time was growing short, her head pounded, her heart felt faint and her mouth was so incredibly dry, but she continued. Wide and bleary eyes scanned the floor, past glistening puddles that sprouted fire like foliage and the blazing inferno engulfing her, rising over her head and subsiding like a wave. The tide threatened to knock her over, her knees growing weak and shaky as she kept going.

They h a d to be alive, still. She wouldn't forgive them otherwise.

Contact, a blurry shape in the distance, one solid black like her own suit. The glisten of tempered glass, the writhing. It was her alright. The fuckin' dumbass.

Erika practically broke into a sprint, well, the best of a sprint she could muster, limping along as she reached out as though she meant to catch herself, but found nothing as she continued, dropping to her knees beside the silhouette, reaching out to grasp their shoulders.

"Jamelin, it's me."

Somewhere underneath, a world rests, long forgotten, long dead. It only waits, not for revival, but for autopsy. It died for a reason, a recommendation resting on it's lips.

"Never come down here, never open doors that were shut for a reason."

Many listened.

But some, some couldn't fight the draw, the interest. The illustrious allure of the depth. The unknown. The pressure, the thousands of tons of rocks and metal resting above. The promise of memories that none were ever meant to have. Footsteps echo throughout the corridors occasionally, none of them meant to be there. What remains is a far, far distant place, one that may symbolize the covers some used to hide under as children. However, it's a stark realization of the fact that the covers? The covers were never safe. It's only because a head decided to turn past you as you trembled. The world is nothing, nothing but the void. It is but the room at the bottom the stairs, when you're left alone and you have to turn off the light.

You understand, no?

The feeling it imparts, constantly. The need to run, sinking it's teeth into your heart. The feeling of needing to sprint up the stairs, before something behind you reaches out to catch your leg, and drag you back under.

Some still descend.

For the comfort of silence.

For the comfort of being so entirely alone, that nobody will ever hear you scream from down below.

Footsteps echoed among empty veins, the halls of the under so incredibly vast and convoluted, but there were signs of quiet life. They were few and far, far between, but they existed. The depths were often pitch black, the kind of dark that swallows a light and never spits it back out. Small indications of the way out, pens taped to the floor, sketches and polite graffiti littered among the quiet walls, people had long refused to heed the warnings. The few people that new of the way down, the ones that survived the plunge, were outcasts, simply put. People looking for a place to be silent and unbothered. A boon so incredibly hard to come by in the claustrophobic world of wires and bolts.

Admittedly, there was never complete silence, but they found comfort in the quiet. They found companionship in the darkness, an equally abandoned and neglected husk surrounding them, allowing them sanctuary and silence, silently creaking in it's process of desiccation and rebirth. The deepest branches of the underground's routes were constantly collapsing and opening, some led to cave systems, some dropped off into cavernous rooms, some ended in smooth walls. They were never alone in the underground, it watched those that entered, it's contents alive as it pondered their intent. The under showed sympathy towards those that it felt deserved it, and consumed those that strayed too far with no respect or care.

The noises of the world around the outcast’s sleeping bodies was pervasive, but never overwhelming.

Some of them found companionship in each other, too.

The faint smell of synthetic alcohol dripped from a hand, the bottle laden with cheap liquor as they poured it out, a round of cups for the six of them. The room they sat in was cavernous, yet silent except for the occasional crash of a droplet from the ceiling painting a dirty streak as it shifted along the sloped floor. Soft steps, echoing down the long deteriorated wooden floor, giving way to concrete under the rotten hardwood. Steps up the carpeted stairs, the telltale creaks of barstools that had long been left to rust, and then a stark silence, breath giving way to the slow wind of the under.

A guitar was strummed, a keyboard tentatively pressed on, a simple chord ringing out from both the instruments as drinks were sipped among the minuscule audience, the soft but haunting vocals echoing from an empty heart filling the room, swelling against the cracked walls as they played, the guitar offering occasional harmony, a lighter tone under the long, slow and dark words from the keyboardist's mouth.

"Dark dark cities, faux hearts.

Broken up and gritty, burning art.

I thought you'd be here,

But all I found is we're...

Fa~alling apart,

Bleeding water and wading out to shore,

Fading out to dark, wishing you were near.

So tell me goodnight, one last time.

Maybe then, my dreams won't keep me awake."

They might have been alone, but at least they had each other.

[CMT&D : INTERNAL AGENT MEMO]

[Jamelin Veraths,

We hope this message finds you in commission.

In light of recent advancements in CMT&D's reputation, the exponential rise in designs, sales, commissions and militant success, the board has decided to put together a celebration for some select offices of ours. Yours is among these chosen offices, and a celebration will be held in honor of your recruitment and the recent success of the operative programs.

The celebration will take place this Sunday, and all members are expected to, if attending, be dressed semi-formally, and any additional flair is encouraged. Drinks will be provided and speakers will be set up for personnel to play music of their choosing. Other than this, the celebration's activities will be left to the employees to decide.

Thank you for your consideration,

Have fun.]

[CM TECHNOLOGIES AND DEFENSE© GSE

do-not-reply-cmentity÷cmtdgse

799th Block, 180-240th Floor]

Jamelin squinted slightly, reading through the email slowly as many thoughts began running through her head. A party? For an office of contracted security and operative details? She was on the empty train again, relishing the quiet as the shadowy buildings outside flew past, the air not daring edge too closely to the train as it tore along. Despite having dropped her old job, she still took this train, it was on her way to the new office anyways. She was well used to the paper pushing by now, she'd worked something similar before, but now she was reporting on actual events, debriefs, stock accounting, she was an operative. It was still a little tough to wrap her head around.

Did they need a party? What would it even be like? Drinks? Like… Alcohol? How formal was semi-formal? The fuck did "additional flair" mean?

Would Erika be there?

She shook her head slightly, even though she knew nobody would actually be watching the camera mounted in the train car, she still didn't want to look like an imbecile on record. She rested her phone on her lap, what did she even have to wear? She had a sleeveless that she hadn't worn in forever, if it still fit it might go with some frilly undershirt or something… Would Erika think that would be cu-...

What was she thinking? Erika probably didn't care. Her partner wore tank tops and jeans half the time for the stars' sake, Jamelin doubted Erika would even dress up, let alone show up at all.

But if she did..?

Jamelin sighed heavily, she'd figure it out tonight. Later. She could pore through her closet once she was home. She flicked back to her player, flicking through a couple album covers before picking one, opening it to start playing the first track, the sweet crunch of indie rock whispering to her as the train took her away, took her back home.

++

Jamelin bit her lip, adjusting the strap that clung to her shoulder before holding its captive, gripping the small black purse with both hands, slightly roughly cut, black painted nails digging into the synthetic leather as she sat in the lev-cab. She looked out the window, the soft hum of the pads outside holding them in the air almost therapeutic, which lord knew she needed. Her nerves were frying like bacon in a pan, crackling up her spine and making her fingers tighten and dance, her short mess of black hair tucked back slightly, pulled in a diagonal across her forehead, a few stray locks falling from the little moonlight colored clip shoved into her hair, holding it on the left as the strays fell to the right in cute little curls. The earring she'd put on her right was new and the unfamiliar weight reminded her of the way it swung every time she turned herself, the little purple crystal sometimes making contact with her jaw as the cab occasionally tilted right to left. She cleared her throat as the cab started to slow, nearing one of the ports on the side of one of the halls that spanned between the tall buildings. Some were incredibly long, some were barely a couple steps, but the latticework of hallways and bridges connected every skypiercer, a name affectionately given to the towers that broke every pitiful highest building record that civilization had dreamed up centuries ago. Some of them had ports for VTOLs and the flying taxis to sidle up next to to dump people off. Most if not all of the flying vehicles barely ever set down, only ever landing on lower roofs to charge up. or to be swapped over to another pilot.

She nodded as she swiped her wrist over the reader that sat against the back of the passenger seat in front of her, before shoving open the door to her right, swinging her heeled feet out to the side, getting out onto the vaguely windy, smoke scented landing, glancing back at the cab as she gripped her purse, watching it drop away from the hallway’s entry before pulling up into the air, flying off. Jameline sighed quietly, turning back to the hallway to shove open the landing’s doors, slipping in. A breath of cold air hit her like a train, whispering down her neck and up her spine as she swallowed hard, taking a deep breath of the floral scented air. It beat the shitstorm outside, if anything.

Jamelin smoothed out the creases of the black sleeveless she'd worn, it's matt, soft fabric clinging to her thin frame. It'd fit a little better a year or two back, it had clung a little tighter then, but she felt it was still leagues better than anything else she could've cobbled up in the two days she'd had. She paused for a second, tugging the hem further down, making sure it rested at her mid-thigh, sighing quietly as she straightened up, holding onto the strap of her purse as she started down the hall, heels clicking against the odd alloy that the floor was made of. It wasn't a very long walk, but the cinch of the heels she'd picked made an easy walk an annoying one.

Surprisingly, the hall was mostly empty, except for the occasional poor soul sat against a wall or trapped in a suit as they wandered to work, but it was a quiet Sunday, and few worked this far in. Most of the section was owned by CMT&D, leaving little room for other more employee centric business. Jamelin relished the quiet, it was always rather hard to find. The occasional train home, her old smoke breaks, there weren't many places one could find real quiet. The dark and the rain outside were almost always present, the city was perpetually dym, acidic smoke snaking up along the spires to drip back down from the cloud ceiling. Much of the energy they had now was from "renewable" sources, the solar panels resting above the clouds and in clearer areas, even the occasional windmill, though of course there were plenty of reactors and biofuel plants.

Jamelin's mind wandered greatly, floating in a dym void as she walked, It bounced like a fly in a bottle, flitting from thoughts of Erika to a moral dilemma she'd read that morning. Did she dress up too much? Not enough? Should she have styled her hair or was it fine as it is, slightly tousled and mostly straight, pulled to the side? Should she have put on more makeup? All she'd put on was eyeliner, lipstick and a dash of purple eyeshadow. Should she have put on less? Jamelin wrenched herself from the thoughts, they would only stress her further, she was already walking up to the door. Anxiety rested on her shoulders like a weighted cape, making continuing hard, but she pressed on. She'd blown up a fucking carnivorous puppeteering fungal growth that had threatened to eat an entire piercer. She'd stared death in the face and she was afraid of a fucking office party.

This was a new low for her, she decided.

As she thought, she neared closer, soon finding herself wrapping tentative fingers around a metal bar. She hesitated, holding it tight before leaning into it, shoving the door open as it swung to the side, a wave of slightly staler air washing over her as she paused in the doorway before stepping in. The foyer was rather quiet, but the faint jumble of words and sounds tipped her off to the party having already started in probably the meeting room. Terrible place to have it, but she supposed there wasn't really a better place. She walked in, both hands clutching the strap of her purse as she peered about. She hadn't known the place for too long, the doors all leading to unfamiliar rooms, though she'd gotten the gist of it. The foyer was small but imposing, the dark hallways on either side rather intimidating.

They reminded her of the under.

She walked past the empty front desk, the darkness swallowing her as she found her way to the only door with light bleeding from under it, shoving it open.

Well, it was a little more lively than she'd thought it would be.

The long table in the center had been shoved to the side, laden with bottles or assorted heart stoppers and littered with disposable cups. Beside the table rested a mini fridge, most likely stuffed with ice and beers. The occupants were… Interestingly, mottle. She knew some of them, vaguely, but there were plenty that were new to her. A collection was busy dancing in the center of the room, a good sprinkle of others standing against walls or sitting near the table to chat, drinks in hand. She definitely wasn't the only one who'd dressed nicely, but it wasn't the standard. A couple were dressed normally, some had come in sweaters and shorts, and a few had worn dresses and suits. Jamelin's eyes flitted across the room shortly, looking frantically for Erika. Something familiar. Somebody she knew she could talk to without tripping over herself. Not a single mess of white hair in sight.

So she didn't come after all.

Jamelin sighed heavily, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she wandered through to set herself down on a stool near the table, dipping down to pry open the fridge to snatch herself a beer, pausing to brace the cap against the table and hammering the side with a fist, popping it off before taking a sip, ignoring the lackluster waves and hellos from the closest of her coworkers. She was hesitant to call them that, they barely ever saw each other, much less interacted, and friends were not something she was looking for. Her gaze wiped across the room again, beer in one hand on the table, the other on her purse on her lap. She was tempted to leave at this point. She'd come in the hopes that Erika would be there, so they'd finally get to socialize outside of work, even if Erika rarely took the paperwork as seriously as Jamelin.

And then something caught her attention.

Footsteps. Her hearing wasn’t the best, but she could pick out the soft clicks of heels against linoleum flooring. Probably just another “co worker” showing up late, maybe it was the receptionist she saw sometimes, who definitely wasn’t among the small cro-

The footsteps stopped and the door swung out into the hallway, the arguably poor lighting from the room spilling out to reflect off of white hair and to paint the black of Erika’s suit pants a slightly lighter shade, the dress shirt she’d worn a nice fit, the sleeves shoved up to her elbows rather messily. At least her hair was a little neater than usual, the usual mop of white hair tucked back behind her ears, most of it swiped to the left, leaving Jamelin to stare a little long at the shaved section along the side of Erika’s right. Even the short fuzz dusting her temple was white as snow… Was it a dye thing? Did she do it every day? Was it just natural? Would Erika like it if she dyed her own hair..? What color? What was her favorite color anywa-

Movement interrupted her derailed train of thought, snapping her back to the cold, wet patch against her thigh where her hand had idled, chilled beer in hand as the glass collected condensation, leaving a small patch on the outside of her left thigh. Shit. She crossed one leg over the other as she cleared her throat, trying to look away and off to the side as Erika started moving in, but she couldn’t help but glance a couple times despite fighting the desperate longing for somebody she trusted to come sit with her so she didn’t feel so alone. She finally committed, until, well, that same mop of hair came into her view as Erika sat down on the stool beside her.

“Hey.”

“H-” Jamelin cleared her throat, her left hand coming to run up and down along her right bicep as she set her hand, beer in tow, on the table beside her. To be fair, the room was a teensy bit chilly, light goosebumps dotting her bare arms. It didn’t make no sense to rub her arm, right? She wasn’t being hopelessly awkward, right?

“Hello.” Hello? Hello!? That was the best she could put together!? For the singularity’s sake! Her cheeks warmed slightly as her thoughts boiled over, spilling from her waning concentration to pool around her, constricting inwards as her anxiety tripled, weighing on her chest like a slab of concrete. Jamelin pursed her lips for a moment, chewing on the inside of her cheek with a slight awkward smile, trying not to seem too incredibly inept at socializing as she watched Erika, who snatched herself her own beer, sitting back down beside Jamelin, returning the slight smile.

“You look like a fish on land, Jamelin.” Erika remarked, leaning in slightly to lightly punch Jamelin on the shoulder with the hand she held the bottle in, rolling her eyes a tad as she did. “You usually like this?” She inquired, her tone rather brash, something that Jamelin had come to expect at this point. Jamelin nodded slowly before frantically shaking her head, she was trying to seem normal, not even weirder than she already did for singularity’s sake.

“No, I swear.” She said, chuckling nervously as she brought the beer to her lips again, taking a short sip before resting it against the table, glancing out towards the room, the dym lights brushing over the bodies as they twisted. She sighed quietly, her breath carrying the chill that had been building within her chest. “Man, who thought having an office party for a security detail was a good idea.” She huffed quietly, taking another quick sip, the bottle finding itself back to her side as she watched the small crowd that there was. Erika chuckled quietly, something she rarely did outside of a snarky remark.

“Made no sense to me either, but I figured you’d be here, and I couldn’t let you embarrass yourself without me here to see it, could I?” She teased, leaning over to elbow Jamelin. Jamelin rolled her eyes, the gentle feel of the soft, smooth dress shirt Erika wore and the clear definition in the tendon along the elbow brushing against her bicep… She internally shook herself away from her thoughts, cursing herself, her thoughts, her cursed anxiety and her cursed attraction to the fucking idiot she called a partner. Her stupid snowy hair, her stupid pretty gray eyes, her stupid fair skin and her stupid lithe figure and her stupid bravery and her stupid brash and funny humor and her stupi-

Spiraling again.

Huh.

Jamelin blinked hard a couple times, “Yeah, yeah… I uh…. I was going to leave pretty soon if you didn’t turn up.” She said, half-heartedly laughing to herself as she glanced down to her lap, running her thumb up and down the translucent bottle’s side as she set the other hand on her bare knee. A stray lock of jaw-length black hair fell from her weak tuck, the clip shining slightly in the dym light as the few curls on the right tilted forwards, her collarbone lightly dotted, encrusted with the slightest beads of sweat. The low-cut helped a little, cool air brushing against skin, but it was less heat and more her fright. She thanked the darkness for hiding it as well as it did. Erika pursed her lips slightly,

“Uh-huh. Well…” She paused for a long moment, looking away towards the crowd as Jamelin had. “I’m glad I caught you, then.” Erika finished, her voice soft. She cleared her throat, chewing on her lip as she reached up, undoing the top button of her dress shirt’s collar and leaning forwards slightly, holding the bottle in both hands between her legs, elbows on her knees, staring off to the left, away from Jamelin. She was… Bored. That, or anxious.

“Me uh… Me to-” Jamelin was interrupted as Erika shoved out of her seat,

“Sitting here is killing me, gonna go snag a boy, you comin’?” Erika asked, glancing over her shoulder with a slight hand out, just far enough that Jamelin could reach out and snag it, hold the hand that had pulled her from the rough. It looked so inviting, as though her rough palm, singed fingertips and poorly clipped nails would be warm against her hand, against her arm, against her neck… And by the time she made up her mind, Erika had shrugged and turned away to lose herself into the small crowd. Their office was well populated, even if nobody knew each other, Erika seemed determined to bleed the night away, her beer sitting on the table beside Jamelin's, half drunk.

Jamelin shut her eyes, sighing quietly, thinking to herself.

"God… You suck, Jamelin."

"Yeah. I guess I do, me. I guess I do."

She brought the beer's mouth back to her own for a bitter sip, losing her gaze in the dym lake of bodies, loosely following a certain striking figure in a suit with a mop of white hair that caught the blue light that rained from above, splattering heavily against the blacks and reds of the employees that showed up to party. It was almost certain that they'd be straight out of the door and off to a club once the majority of them started opening up. There was no Crush here, neither the more lucrative options, just some cheap drinks. A poor substitute.

Jamelin's mind wandered like a child in a supermarket, distracted by bright lights and mist as she stared in the general direction of the center of the room, working through the bottle she had until eventually she tilted it back and only a drop singed against her tongue. She sighed, setting the bottle back down on the table, it's fake glass clicking against the desk as she sat back, renewing her focus as she looked about. Where had Erika ended up going off to? She'd zoned out for a good few minutes after a-

A flash of white caught her eyes, dragging her gaze in like a moth to a flame, one she could not look away from. It was like watching a car wreck, something so incredibly gruesome you can't help but watch. Erika was close, but not to her, her partner was in breath's distance with a rather tall man, his fashion rugged with a tone of underground, his ripped up shirt hem and the few messy piercings through his ear rather bold. Jamelin had seen him around occasionally, standing around in the hallway while waiting for something or ghosting by their office on his way out. Probably another operative. Erika had snagged his shirt's collar with long fingers, tugging him in close with a vague smirk that was barely visible to Jamelin until Erika twisted slightly with the song, stepping in close as she pulled the man against her, hips to hips as he dipped down, messy brown-ish black hair obscuring his eyes as he leaned down slightly. Erika was tall, but he was taller, meeting her lips halfway as the two slowed in their dance, coming to a stop as Erika reached up with her free hand to cup his cheek, the other going from a grasp to resting pressed against his chest as she leaned in and up just a tad, further into the kiss as she tilted her head slightly.

Jamelin's heart snapped.

It snapped like a rubber band pulled taught for too long, like a cable holding back an avalanche. Something odd spilled out, pooling downwards in her stomach to rest there in a disconcerting pool, bubbling with a pain that felt new. Jamelin had not felt something so fresh and guttural in it's vivid torment of her, but this, this was something extraordinary. She watched, staring with a slowly blurring vision as she felt her throat close up, her weak hopes dying on the hill they had stood on for so long. Erika was never going to be interested in her, why would she? What girl in their right mind would go for her? They didn't mix at all anyways…

It still hurt to watch, a few seconds felt like hours, each tick of the clock in her head sounded like a cataclysm, drowning out the poor music choice and the bustle.

She shut her eyes again, dipping down again to grasp for the fridge.

She needed another drink.

Time passed, stumbling across Jamelin's awareness like a drunkard heading home, pausing here and there, collapsing halfway to where it was headed as she turned to sit staring at the table, arms crossed and set on the shitty fake wood of the meeting table. Hell, it was probably just painted concrete.

And then it froze, a gentle hand she recognized on her shoulder. She glanced up to her right, the few stray locks brushing against her cheek with the movement as her earring made contact with her jaw again.

It was Erika, pretty as ever, hair in a tussle that was the perfect balance of messy and combed, those stark eyes in the dym light shining a slight blue, her dress shirt just a little off, the top button undone and the waist scrunched up as the slightest bit of fabric spilled over her waistband as she'd probably raised her arms a little too far at one point and neglected to tuck the shirt back in. She stood with a hip out, one long leg in her vision, tapering down to a heel.

"You look like shit, sitting alone." She remarked, bending slightly at the waist to bring her face closer to Jamelin's as she put a loose arm around the thinner woman's shoulders. She smelled vaguely of sweat, alcohol and vanilla.

"Thanks." Jamelin muttered, using everything she had to fight leaning into Erika's grasp. She didn't need to be even weirder than she already wa-

"Come dance with me. It's a shame to waste so much pretty, ya fucking wallflower." She added, squeezing Jamelin slightly as Jamelin's porcelain white cheeks pinked up slightly.

Dance?

With Erika?

"N-no tha-" She spoke before she could think it though, her anxiety wrenching control from her, but Erika was undeterred.

"Nope. You're coming with me." She said, pulling Jamelin up from her seat, grasping her by the hand to tug her towards the tangle of arms and legs, "Let loose for once, Jamelin." She added, before looking where she was going, away from Jamelin as she stumbled after, trying to get her feet under her, something hindered by her own heels. Surprisingly, she was not as great in them as Erika was, she was used to wearing sneakers and boots. Sure some of them had heels, but they weren't as needle thin as what she was wearing at the moment.

Erika was so pretty, pulling her through the crowd, that little tide of white over her neck pulled at by the air, the smell of vanilla shampoo and shitty perfume brushing her nose, pulling her along just as Erika's hand was.

Her hand.

She was holding Erika's hand.

Jamelin was quietly freaking out inside, but Erika kept her down to Earth, her hand almost like a tether to an astronaut, pulling her to safety again and again,

She would never admit it, but this was all she wanted.

Thank the stars Erika wouldn't let her shy away from it.

The smell of cheap plastic linen and perfume enveloped her as she rolled over, tugging the sheets tighter around her torso, relishing the vague warmth they provided, pressed against her bare arms.

Bare?

An eye snapped open, why did her pillow smell like perfume that wasn't hers?

She glanced down, flicking off the sheets, finding herself laying in a dress. The one she'd worn last night. Yesterday was already a distant blur, the second half of it at least, the pounding headache a testament to where it had all gone.

A memory came to her like a freight train, barreling through her fragile, still waking, thoughts. The black mixing with white, a dress against a dress shirt as legs damn near tangled, a soft hand wrapped around and laced around her, an arm wrapped around her waist like ribbons around a gift, pulled tight for a moment before they split. The same intoxicating scent she could still smell on herself, her pillow, cinnamon and chives, misted against the swan neck that her cheek had been against.

Erika had danced with her.

Erika had drank with her.

Erika had taken her heart like a prize, as easily as wrapped peppermint from an office bowl.

Just like that.

And the scariest part? Jamelin did not mind. Not a single bit, the slightest shreds of apprehension burning behind her eyes as she stared at her hands, folded together on the sheets in front of her. She was hopeless, but maybe Erika was too. It seemed like a running theme in the world they lived in. Neo-Othel was a place where people went to pay their respects to the planet. The place where it had died.

Jamelin swung her legs out off the bed, pressing the bottoms of her feet against the chilled plating of the floor, relishing the cold. At least she hadn't worn her heels to bed. She got to her feet, stretching for a moment as she shook her head, yawning as she took a few steps before shouldering her door open. She needed to do something about her hangover...

"You know, when I took this job, I wasn't expecting this."

"Oh really? What, did you think we were tax collectors?"

Jamelin snorted, glancing up and tossing her hair out of her eyes with a flick of her head. "Yes really, and no, I imagined something like…" She trailed off, chewing on her lip for a moment as she looked for the words. She'd expected a lot of things to be honest, but not a single one had been close.

"Police, I guess? I thought we'd be dealing with people at the very least." Jamelin suggested, digging her gloved fingers back into the sickeningly aromatic chunk of raw, disgustingly fresh, dripping mound of red, sinewy flesh. It sat heavily in the center of the room, barely a few steps into the basement of one of the skypiercers, one that was quickly losing its cohesion to the Under.

Erika rolled her eyes, "It's not so b-" She paused, pressing her elbow against her mouth, shutting her eyes for a moment as she swallowed back bile. "Bad." She finished with an uneasy tone of voice, as though she were teetering on the edge of losing her lackluster breakfast. Jamelin snickered.

"Yeah yeah queen of trash. Get your hands back in here, I can't be the only one digging." Jamelin said before yanking on the sinew she'd snagged with thin, coated fingers. It was tough, grasping on to it's host tightly.

"Hey, why didn't they give us anything to open these?" Jamelin asked through bared teeth as she braced, pulling hard as she could for a moment before the strand snapped, receding with a shlurp as part of the misshapen mass lost its tautness, sloughing over to expose more soft tissue. No organs so far, a good sign she supposed. Erika sighed, digging a hand in before planting a foot on the mound, tearing another clump of flesh and sinew out, a shard of bone stuck stitched to the handful. She tossed it aside.

"I guess they figured it wouldn't be much of a fuckin' problem." Erika grumbled, pausing to shimmy the glove all the way up her forearm before plunging her hand into the fleshy center. With a little pressure, she could push through the fleshy wall, worming her hand further in as she held herself up with her other hand, eyes shut as she felt around. Jamelin took a step back to watch, intently focused on Erika's shoulder, her short mop of white hair over her face, her toned bicep…

Erika felt something, an eye popping open.

"Gotcha."

She braced, motioning Jamelin with the other hand. Jamelin shook her head coming over to clear her throat.

"So let me get this straight. I grab you, we pull, a little nub comes out and this shit disappears?" Jamelin asked, a little apprehensive on the logistics.

Erika nodded, "Just about sums it up, now fucking help, my arm is already gonna reek for a month, the longer I leave it in the worse it's gonna be." Jamelin rolled her eyes, tugging her gloves up as she sidled up next to Erika, digging her hand in after Erika, soon grasping her hand at the center. The pair looked at each other, silently agreeing.

"3. 2. 1. Pull!"

The two pressed against the floor and the mound, hands clenched tight as they pulled with their collective might. A solid second passed, and then a sickening tear escaped from the center, muffled. It felt like pulling the neck from a turkey, the unnatural feeling of tearing whatever was at the center from the flesh-coated metal of the floor. Inch by inch they pulled, breath starting to thicken as they strained. A snap, giving them a few inches, another, and then finally it relented, coming relatively easy up the small slip their arms had made. Jamelin let go as soon as the bloody, purple and red chunk crested the opening, stumbling back slightly as she pressed her elbow to her nose, coughing as she stumbled across to a wall, leaning against it as she fought her instincts. The smell of rot was heavy.

Erika yanked it out, throwing it across the room in the opposite direction as she then joined Jamelin, huffing. The culprit was a small, oblong chunk of sinewy hard tissue, an odd assortment of bones and cartilage jutting out from it, a long tail of hair that had most likely been rooting it in trailed behind it, matted and dripping with gore. It smelled like they'd pulled the cover from a manhole, the rancid fumes were unbearable. The mound started to collapse in on itself, the soft and loose tissue going first, slowly draining itself down like slime over a drain, pulling the other components through. Chunks of bone that had been the grasping point for sinew and muscle, the thick outer coating, it all slowly but surely pulled itself into the hole, before finally coming loose and slipping through, leaving a viscera colored stain and a sizable jagged hole in the metal floor.

"Well that was disgusting." Jamelin muttered, muffled by her skin against her mouth and nose. The two had come dressed heavy, but the heat and the viscera of the room had left them in short sleeves, splattered with blood. She shut her eyes for a moment, the stale air burning her eyes as she cleared her throat, scrunching her nose at the smell as it permeated her careful breaths, painting her lungs in aerosolized disgust.

Erika coughed, turning away to spit on the floor before clearing her throat and swallowing hard. "Let's just get out of h-"

A loud slam, quite clearly from across the room. It appeared to have come through the wall. Erika and Jamelin both snapped upright, twisting around to stare at the concrete. Another slam, motes of dust shaking awake and throwing themselves from the ceiling. Erika and Jamelin glanced at each other for a short moment as the dust settled making it even harder to breathe in the small space. The two looked back to the wall on time for another slam, hairline cracks lining the wall now. Erika nodded,

"Right. Let's get the fuck out of here and call somebody."

Jamelin cleared her throat.

"Sounds like a plan to me." She said, nodding profusely as she turned away from the wall, hurrying towards the stairs to the room, an elbow clamped over her lower face, followed closely by Erika, the two hurrying themselves up the stairs as another slam shook the room below them. Erika's foot caught on dust as it did, her leg slipping from beneath her.

"Fu- Ack!" She was cut off by her shirt's collar tightening, Jamelin holding a good clump of her shirt, balled tight as she yanked Erika back up.

"Come on you klutz." Erika batted her hand away, flipping Jamelin off as they continued up the stairs. A loud crash ripped through the air from the room they were climbing from, the sound of rubble hitting floor whispering up behind them before silence settled in as they reached the top of the staircase, not daring to pause and look over their shoulders. As the two crested the landing, Erika fumbled past Jamelin to snatch up the coat she'd left in a loosely folded pile against one of the walls, digging in its pockets for a moment. The left one yielded nothing, but the right had what she was after. She pulled out a thin slip that looked like a slab of metal barely millimeters thick, unfolding it once and tapping at it's face before bringing the device to her ear.

Jamelin busied herself, Erika's distressed explanation washing over her ears as she sat herself down, taking a deep breath, hoping to catch a breath of stale air, anything was better than the scent crawling itself from the staircase. She roused slightly, shifting further from the basement's mouth, sitting away from it to stare into the light shadows. She didn't trust it.

There hadn't been a crash in a while.

She tuned back into the rest of her senses, her vision pulling back from the tunnel as the warble from Erika's phone reached her.

"ETA 12 minutes. Heavy gear cleanup detail. Stay on site. Over."

"Understood, we'll stay here, over."

She snapped the slip back in half with her thumb and forefinger, glancing over to Jamelin and rolling her eyes. She then walked back to her coat, slipping the phone back into the pocket before heaving up the coat, shoving her arms into it and clipping in the harness, reaching down to grab the handle hidden away on the longer side, yanking up and around to fold it into it's more useful shape, a soft purr kicking up as she hefted the gun, grasping the handle with both hands as she walked back to stand in the middle of the room, facing the stairway that Jamelin was still preoccupied with.

"I don't trust it. I'll watch. Go make sure they fin-"

"And leave you alone with whatever's down there?" Jamelin asked, shoving up to her feet, walking over to elbow Erika on her way past.

"Fat fuckin' chance." She said, bending down to grab her own coat, patting it heavily as a film of dust fell from the side it had been laying on. She slipped her arm through, the other going into the straps on the inside of the left, bringing it up to test her grasp before returning to Erika's side, standing on her left. Worst came to worst, she could reach over and cover both of them.

"Loves me,"

A petal fell, spinning slightly in the weak current of air, it's delicate flesh gripped at by the stale, recycled air that bled from the AC unit.

"Loves me not."

Another petal, it's crystalline blue color catching the dym yellow light, giving the decaying limb an oddly sea foam-esque color, occasionally warbling to fantastic purples, until it entered the sapphire shadows. It tumbled, landing but a few spaces away from it's sister, like a pair of puddles on pavement as they dotted the damp metal.

"Loves me,"

The soft snap of a petal, pulling from it's head as her pinch loosened, the body hesitantly leaping from her thumb as she watched it with vague intrigue, crimson irides the color of fresh viscera, speckled with white, pooled in a cruel manner, entrapping the dot of ink in the center. The petal fell like a feather and a brick simultaneously, too fast and too slow, the small v sitting at the unsevered tip twisting back and forth as the petal thrashed.

"Loves me not."

A fourth, escaping the jaws of roughly cut and worn, red glossed nails, the soft pads of well cared for fingertips parting, the slightest tinge of oil left on the petal like faint lipstick from a kiss. It fell to join the others, the refuse of her game quickly becoming a collection of holes poked into the floor, exposing a dym blue sea beneath, the water-colored petals almost pitch black in the lack of light.

"Loves me,"

The sound of a petal falling was almost audible in the cramped space, a small and "professional" space, populated by a simple desk, a simpler chair, a few mostly empty shelves and a single bookshelf. The bookshelf itself was stacked heavily with a myriad of dusty leather bound books and sleek, thin plates of metal with screen centers, each the thickness of a few pieces of paper. Just wide enough it wouldn't cut you to pick one out. The bookshelf itself held the labels, as helpful as an alphabetical list could be considering the volume of scripts, but she knew which were which, roughly. She used to work here, after all. The room was small, constricting, and it seemed as though it had shrunk during her short time of inhabiting it. The ceiling bowed inwards slightly, the walls were too close and a boring solid gray, though they did reflect the soft touch of firelight rather well. They were marked with age, a hole there, a crack here, a blemish or three, water stains and even the occasional dent. She didn't mind, as long as the door still swung, even if it was as squeaky as ever. Her breath echoed in the silence, nearly snapping it in half as she took one more long draw of air, preparing her lungs and tongue for her next words.

"Loves me not."

The flesh of the petal split, tearing apart near the base, leaving a thin ruffle of deep blue wrapped around the thin yellow center of the peculiar flower. She dropped the ripped petal, going back in with a pause as she picked off the remaining flesh, taking a few tries before letting the remnant fall to join itself.

"Loves me,"

A bloody red eye pulled open once more, lid flitting back almost as suddenly as a startled spider. The dot at the center, entrapped by a satin iris, skittered as it pulled her heavy gaze like a spotlight across the room. The low groan of the under whispered to her, footsteps wrenching her attention away from the dismembered flower. A quiet light flit past the wall outside the door, it's peculiar grayish tone crashing against motes of dust that floated past, almost as though the ceiling was about to collapse, shedding shimmering powder as it shivered. Absentmindedly, she pinched a petal at it's base, pressing tighter as her fingertips whitened, before a soft snap filled the empty room, the quiet sound swelling against metal and clawing against clothes as she let it fall, paying it's tumble no heed, ignoring it's intricate dance to the floor.

"Loves me not."

She whispered, shoving up from the seat, setting the half de-petaled flower on the desk she'd been sitting at, disregarding the aqua petals she stepped over, reaching out with the same soft fingertips out towards the half burned candle, pinching the wick. She held it for a moment, relishing the soft hiss of the flame squirming in its death throes. The pain was delectable, singing her fingers, cooking the soft calluses, melting her pads raw in the moment until she let go, hand raising to shift to the right, dropping to wrap around the grip of the pistol she'd set down earlier. It's cold, almost frigid, body felt molded to her, more comforting than the feel of a lover's hip, to her at least. A different voice, one she recognized, snapped the tense silence in half, the disturbance comparable to the sound of bone.

"Erika?"

The wave grew, blood scented flesh rising among her waist, entrapping her legs as she thrashed, trying to grasp onto anything aside from the pseudo-liquid.

"Erika! Grab my goddamn hand!"

Erika waved Jamelin off, "Just fucking go! I'll be fine, just get help!" The guttural sound of the organic grey goo and the creaking of straining sheet metal nearly overpowering the sound of their voices. Erika reached out again, the liquid with the consistency of honey and the pale surface of skin encircling her body, rising at an alarming rate as it began to creep over the lip of the hole Erika stood in. It was only chest high, but she had no way of prying herself free now.

Jamelin shook her head violently, falling to her knees as she offered a hand, "I'm not leaving you here, stupid!" Erika reached out, catching Jamelin's hand, but her hand was soft, limp. She paused for a moment, bringing her hands up and close to herself, over the rising tide as she peeled the glove off, reaching out again to snag Jamelin's fingers in her own. She held tight, shutting her eyes. One second. Two. Three. She felt the unpleasantly warm organism squirm around her, encroaching on her bottom ribs.

"If you never find me again, I love you. Now fuck off, Jamie. If anybody's dying, it's me, and I'm not dragging you with me." She said, her voice so uncharacteristically soft that it barely reached Jamelin's ear over the sound of death creeping closer from the depths.

"You fucking idiot..." Jamelin whispered. She felt her heart clench, pressing against her ribs, tearing at her lungs with terrible claws like it meant to shred her into pieces and crawl from her chest, to join Erika in the frying pan. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Because I knew you knew. Now go. Shoo. Before I gotta make you." She muttered, letting go of Jamelin's hand to slip her glove back on, letting her hand fall to rest on the pale water. A wave pulled itself from the surface behind her, slow as it came up in a swell, before coming close to crash, molding against her back and shoving her forward for a moment. She shoved with her hands against the liquid in front of her, keeping herself upright as she huffed, breath coming a little heavier as she struggled. From the smooth surface, a slit opened, peeling back over a grossly large, bloodshot eye, staring out at her, flicking up to Jamelin before back to Erika. Erika reared back, pulling her arm free, separating her suit's torso for a moment as the flesh filled the gap. She clenched her fist, elbow coming back as she cocked a punch as far as she could before slamming her fist down into the fleshy organ. The eye spasmed, a split appearing in its membrane as an odd blood-esque liquid began to pour from it until it shut, the flesh closing back over as though it had never existed.

Jamelin took a deep breath, taking the best look that she could of Erika, before pausing for a moment. She reached up, grasping her neck and twisting, her helmet coming free with a hiss. She reached over, tucking Erika's hair back behind her ear before slipping the helmet over her head, twisting it into the socket. Erika bit her lip hard, a shine in her eyes threatening to spill from over the lip of her eyelid.

"Th' fuck this for?" Erika asked. She knew, she knew exactly what it was for, and it made her smile, just a little, even if she may've been staring the woman she'd fallen in love with in the eyes for the last time.

"So you don't suffocate. And also so you don't forget about me when I come back to dig your ass out of this one too." Jamelin responded, her voice hoarse, cracking mid way through as she wiped a tear away with a gloveless, dry blood coated hand, sniffling quietly. She cleared her throat, shoving up to her feet, shaking her head, her short black mess of hair falling about her ears, sweat starting to bead her forehead from the heat. Erika was up to her shoulders, arms resting on the blood-bag water. "Be right back, nove. Don't wait up." Jamelin said, wiping her eyes as she cleared her throat again, pressing a fist to her mouth to trap a sob behind her teeth.

She forced herself to turn away, taking one last glance back, before walking outside, gripping her biceps with both hands so incredibly tight as she walked away with a hurried pace, her knuckles turning white as she forced her lethargic feet and her sore legs to take her forth, each step almost sending her to the ground in a tumble, but she pressed on.

For Erika.

"Come back soon, Jamie. Come back soon." Erika whispered, reaching out one last time before resigning herself, making sure her helmet was snug. It smelled of Jamelin's cheap perfume and shitty rose shampoo.

She wouldn't have it any other way.

A sharp bang ripped through the thick walls, tearing through her already weak thoughts, built like a melting igloo around the small, burning nugget of sanity that rested in the center. Jamelin pressed a hand to her temple, the other still clutching her pistol with white knuckles.

A thick stream of blood ran down her side, staining her shirt as she stumbled forwards, her hand falling from her head to catch herself against the wall, beginning to slide along it with trudging footsteps. Her coat rested, pinned against her by the thick barb pressed into her stomach. Shards of the flexible metal that had made up the near impenetrable shield buried themselves in her flesh and littered the ground behind her as she continued to shuffle. A rumble followed after her, blind in it’s directionless chase after her. Jamelin continued, struggling to breathe as she shoved the pistol in its holster, pressing her hand to her side as she gasped in pain, picking up her foot again to shift it forwards, struggling just to walk. Her head was pounding, quite nearly empty of blood. Her sight was blurry and all too short, everything seemed further and closer than it was supposed to. Everything was darker, a sharp pain stabbing her in her left eye.

It was cold, biting and snapping at her flesh like jaws lined with razor sharp teeth, chewing roughly on her bones as she stumbled forwards, wet, stinging rain plastering her hair to her forehead as she forced herself along. The singe whispered to her, the hem of her pants starting to sear, threads beginning to unravel as her steps splashed the puddles up against her ankles, her socks disgustingly wet and painful. A quiet hiss ate at her, whining in her ears under the patter of raindrops hitting dusty concrete and metal around her, the clouds above dark with carbon. Tall steel beasts rose around her, twisting off into the sky, connected by thin arms that seemed so far away. She remembered being on one of those platforms, a bag on her shoulder, a dress draped over her. She vaguely remembered Erika walking her to the very same stop.

Erika.

A memory surfaced, followed by another, and another, her frantic adrenaline-clouded mind finally allowing them to see the light. The dim, gray twilight of day. A roar echoed behind her, closer now, bouncing off the buildings and squeezing through alleys. She shut her eyes tight as she stumbled forwards, a tear threatening to blur her gaze, pulling at her as she stumbled, catching herself once more and stopping to regain her balance and breath. Erika. She wouldn't see her again most likely.

She knew she wasn't making it back, Erika probably didn't even know where she was. Hell, she'd be lucky if Erika even cared. She pulled herself up, wiping her eyes of water with a blood-stained arm, sleeve tattered and halved, before she took another step. Another step. Just one more, she told herself. One after another.

Suddenly the constant pestering of the rain went silent, the patter continuing behind her and ahead, but it stopped bludgeoning her. She clutched her wound tighter, glancing up. She was under a ceiling. It was rather low, only a couple stories up, a thick block crossing from one tower to another. She looked straight ahead, seeing only more dark, forgotten street, a dull monotone gray covering her vision, the barren, broken road staring back at her with no emotion. She coughed, sputtering blood as she fell to her knees, her vision blurring. She could see it now. A small dark spot, creeping along the edge of her vision in her left eye. The spot shifted slightly, before blooming, a black shape eclipsing part of her pupil. She shut her right eye, watching with shaky hands and still breath. The drop of flesh that had come into contact with her face returned to her, the feeling of it's slimy consistency still stapled to her skin as she shivered in response.

It had spread, it was in her eye.

She would die quicker if it stayed.

Jamelin swallowed hard, her mouth dry as bone as she glanced over her shoulder. The sky was empty. She was going to be alone for a while. She had no choice.

She looked down at her hands. They were not as soft as they used to be, lightly callused from firing her gun and all the gloves and work she'd been up to. Her fingernails were short, almost to the tip, messily painted with chipped black nail polish, thin and bony fingers shuddering heavily. From cold, and anxiety. She paused, bunching up her shirt at the collar, pulling it up to bite heavily on it, clenching it with her teeth as she brought her hand to cheek. She pressed her fingertip against the bone, taking a deep, deep breath before letting it out shakily. The shape squirmed in her vision, pressing her on, taunting her.

Jamelin was deathly silent, moving her hand up slowly as though she meant to catch a skittish bug, shaking heavily before she struck, giving herself no time to react. Her brain screamed, every instinct in her body revolting against the motion, but momentum did the work for her, her fingernails scraping against her eyelids and pulling at her eyelashes, slipping past the skin and grating along the bone of the orbit, catching at the flesh as her eye squished downwards slightly, beginning to bulge out as she shakily sputtered a scream from her chapped, blood painted lips. Her finger hooked around as she then finally let her instinct take over, wrenching her head away and her eye with it, yanking it out to fall, hanging by nothing but the optical nerve as her breath hitched. She grabbed at it with shaky, uneven hands, severing it with one final guttural yank, letting it drop to her side.

It fell to the ground, leaving her to mumble and wheeze, clutching at the hole in her face, the bleeding gap that pooled every time she closed her eyes, before she finally relented to her fatigue and shock, slumping over onto her side.

-

The buzz of the hovers grew tinny, burrowing into her ears like knives as she stared out the side, a spattering of corrosive rain slapping against the cold metal of the VTOL, sloughing heavily off the back window and the sides.

"Can't we go any faster?" Erika asked, foot tapping impatiently as she glanced up to the cockpit, one hand coming up to adjust her ear piece and tug on her collar.

"Not unless you want to piss everything off, no." Came a rather bored response. The agents of CMT&D really were emotionally dead, weren't they? She supposed there was only so much gore you could see before you grew numb to it, but she'd seen it to such a degree that it nearly frightened even her, a rather long time employee. Erika clung to the support bar beside the door, staring out the large window, watching the buildings burn past, something hulking in stature snaking between them. Of course, there were multiple, they'd been a problem for a while, but it was odd to see one somewhere so dense. The VTOL began to sink, wrestling Erika's attention back to the street below then.

"Coming up on the signal now, below the main hall on the 4th floor. Landing soon." The man said, addressed to nobody in particular, their earpieces buzzing with the response.

"Affirmative. Recover Operative and extract ASAP. We don't want to be on the outside too long with this kind of equipment." Came the none too pleasant voice of the director, probably sitting somewhere warm, conditioned, safe. It sickened her, but it was the way it went. Erika could suck it up. The ground began to grow closer, the thrum of the VTOL brushing against it as dust and puddles whipped away, the cracked pavement nearly shifting as the VTOL came to rest, setting down heavily. The door opened and the pilot gave a thumbs up over the seat.

Erika shrugged her coat on tighter, pulling up the hood as she hopped out, sprinting towards the cover, boots splashing as she ran. She could see her, the same thin silhouette, curled up in a puddle of rain and blood, arms tight around her waist.

Jamelin.

Erika’s footsteps came more frantic, beating against the concrete as she sprinted to her, coming to a slippery stop as she fell to her knees beside Jamelin, staring. Jamelin’s coat had since slumped off of her, resting half on her arms beside her, holes peeking through the shirt beneath, it’s wet fabric stuck to her sharp spine and creeping along her bony collar. Beside her rested a small orb, glued to the ground with a thin lattice of fleshy extensions, like roots. And then she saw the small dot on it’s top move, looking towards her. She felt bile tease at the bottom of her throat as she scooted back slightly, pulling Jamelin with her before sitting on her heels, tugging Jamelin onto her lap.

“Oh my god… Jamelin… Jamelin please…” She muttered, frantic and shaky as she looked her up and down. Jamelin’s eyes were shut tight, arms still clutching her midsection, dry blood plugging the bloody hole, a thick woody barb still stabbed into her, coat hanging from it. At least it wasn’t still bleeding. Erika squinted, noticing a small trail of blood dripping from Jamelin’s cheek, running from her tear duct, her left eye.

“No… No no no…” Erika pulled Jamelin closer, pressing a hand to her collar, just to the left of the center, above her breast, going silent as she prayed.

Ba-bump.

There was a quiet throb, and another, the chest beneath her fingers rising slowly and falling. Erika sighed a long breath of relief, wrapping her arms around Jamelin to hug her tight for a moment before taking a long deep breath.

“It… It should’ve been me. I’m so sorry, Jamie. If I’d known…” She choked up for a moment, shifting to slip an arm under Jamelin’s knees, lifting her up with slight strain. She felt so… Light. It hurt Erika, how fragile Jamelin seemed in the moment. Erika held her close, letting Jamelin’s chilled skin and cold body sap away at her warmth, leaning over her slightly to protect Jameline from the rain as she left the overhang, beginning to rush them both towards the VTOL. Step after step, a hurried franticness to her gait. Jamelin needed her, Jamelin needed help, medical attention. She...

She needed to come home.

Erika’s boots came close, soon drowned out by the hum of the VTOL and the wisp of wind skirting the edges of the wind before hitting the ground with a heavy hiss. Erika stepped up into the VTOL, resting Jamelin on the small bed tucked into the back, before pulling the door shut and crossing to the cockpit to reach over the seat, giving the pilot a tap on the shoulder.

“Operative acquired, let’s go home.” She said, pressing a finger to her ear as the pilot nodded, the VTOL screeching a little louder, higher as the engines began to strain against gravity, hauling them upwards. The dark, cracked ground began to grow further away out the window as Erika paused by the door, staring out as the VTOL began to heave them up, story by story, before she continued to stop standing beside Jamelin. She swallowed hard, crouching down to cup Jamelin’s cheek, her throat tight.

“You’re gonna be okay Jamie… I got you.” She paused for a long moment, looking away for a moment before looking back to her, clearing her throat. “I swear to the stars, I’m not letting your dumbass out of my sight again.” She muttered, the smallest smile tugging at her lips as she watched those pale lips split slightly with breath, the slightest touch of color beginning to paint those paper white cheeks and pastel pink lips.

“Sleep well.”

-

Her eye creeped open, the white of it’s base flickering for a moment before she pulled it all the way open. Her other, while open, was empty. It did not see, her view constricted mostly to her right side. She reached up instinctively, a rattle stopping her, tilting her head slightly to see her wrist, a needle jabbed into her wrist. She let her head fall back, arm resting once more as she sighed quietly, wheezing slightly as she reached the bottom of her lungs, coughing quietly.

“Fuck…” Jamelin muttered, hand pressing to her side before coming away cautiously as she looked down. She was wrapped in a white-washed hospital gown, draped over her torso. She could barely feel her legs, much less her midsection, unable to even shift it. She reached down again, prodding lightly at her left side, barely even a feeling. Whatever anesthesia they were using was strong as hell. She coughed again, setting her head and arms back as the stared up at the light above her, squinting slightly. She reached up slowly, waving her hand in front of her left eye, nothing. She let her hand descend, brushing her eyebrow before coming down slightly as she shut her left, finger brushing her eyelid. She recoiled, it was flat, pliable, there was nothing underneath it. She dry heaved as she remembered what had happened before she passed out. Well, she didn’t remember what happened exactly, her mind was actively trying to block that out with a blast shield, but she could remember the vague details.

She remembered the twilight sky, the burn of the rain against her neck, the drenched clothes and the screams behind her. The horrific footsteps, the buildings stretching away towards heaven to leave her behind, the overhang.

She remembered digging her own eye out.

She held her eyes shut as she shuddered, sighing quietly. The door creaked open, footsteps entering before the door shut. Jamelin strained, straightening her neck slightly to look at her guest. A man in a smart looking coat, a thin slab of metal close to his chest as he walked in, looking down at it as he came to her bedside.

“Miss Veraths, welcome back. Do you remember what happened?” He asked, peering down at her, a pair of rather kind brown eyes set under his brows.

“I…” She paused for a moment before nodding slightly. “Y-yeah. Yeah I remember.” She said, her voice shaky and uneven.

He nodded, “We’ve cleaned out your orbital cavity and set up a contact connection plate, not quite state of the art but it’s a good old robust mechanism at least. Ah let’s see… Reparation of internal organs, removal of foreign object, cleaned up several second degree burns and finally we stitched you up. We’ll be expecting you to come in for a checkup within the next month, preferably after a week or two.” Jamelin sat, slightly overloaded at the moment, but nodded slowly.

“So what kinda bill am I looking at?” She inquired, dreading the answer.

“Nothing. Covered by CMT&D, said something about an Operative healthcare plan.” He chuckled, “Wish I had one of those…” He then shook his head slightly, “We’ll be keeping you here for a day or two just to monitor in case the implant is rejected or anything isn’t working properly, and then you’ll be off the hook.”

Jamelin sighed heavily in relief, nodding. Prior to being hired by CM, she’d barely been able to afford vaccinations and headache medication, much less surgery and an implant. Speaking of…

“What’s the uh… Contact connection?” She asked, raising an eyebrow as she looked down her nose at him, her neck already tired.

“Ocular implant, goes in at the back of your orbital cavity, it connects directly to what used to be your optic nerve, it connects to a prosthetic eye through contact so it can rotate freely.” He explained, leaving her to nod slowly. “Ah and before I forget, you’ve got a visitor.” Jamelin lit up slightly, a visitor? The doctor shifted closer, retrieving a band from out of her view. He paused by her, wrapping it about her head at a diagonal, a pad over her empty eye. “Give it time to heal first, we’ll test out your prosthesis later.”

Jamelin nodded as he bid her goodbye, walking to the door.

“I’ll let her know she can come in. I wish you a quick recovery.” He said before leaving, the door falling shut behind him.

Jamelin shut her eye, waiting for the sound of the door opening again. And eventually, it came. She let her eye open again, looking expectantly at the slowly widening gap in the door until it came wide enough that she could see a messy mop of white hair, a badly straightened out suit tie, a dress shirt only buttoned up most of the way and a pair of suit pants.

“Erika?” Jamelin said, not able to help the wide smile pulling at the corners of her lips. Erika chuckled, coming in all the way as she let the door fall shut behind her. She held one hand tucked behind her back as she came to stand closer, to the side of Jamelin, still in her field of view.

“No, it’s Kelly from accounting, yes numbskull. It’s me.” She said, leaning in slightly, elbowing Jameling lightly as she leaned in, wrapping her arms around Jamelin’s shoulders.

“You scared the shit out of me, asshole.” She whispered in Jamelin’s ear, her voice wavering slightly now as she hugged her tight, squeezing lightly. Jamelin reached up with her non-wired hand to wrap it around Erika’s back, holding her with an attempted matching tightness. She felt her fingertips brush along the ridge of Erika’s spine, before her back shook slightly, racking just a tad with…

Her collar was wet, a single tear kissing pale skin.

“E-Erika? You okay?” Jamelin asked, rubbing her back slowly as Erika refused to answer, burying her eyes against Jamelin’s collar. Another soft tremor, a few more tears. Jamelin sighed quietly, going rather silent as she hugged Erika tight as she could, rubbing her back lightly.

“I… I thought I lost you. Don’t ever do that to me again.” She whispered, throat tight and her voice shaking, muffled by the gown Jamelin wore. Jamelin nodded slowly, a light giggle pulling at her chest.

“I promise I won’t.” She muttered, pressing her cheek to Erika’s temple until the taller woman straightened up, clearing her throat and wiping at a tear as her other hand returned to her back.

“Good. Here.” She said, still choked up as she reached out, setting a small box on Jamelin’s lap. A single flower rested on it, a rose. Jamelin rolled her eyes,

“Erika I don-” Jamelin started, incredulous that Erika would offer her anything, much less what looked like a gift.

“Just open it.” Erika said, her tone adamant and determined, if marred by tears. Jamelin nodded slowly, taking the rose gently to rest it on her lap next to the box before pulling it open slowly. It was separated in two halves, one side holding a few pieces of real, genuine dark chocolate, each individually packaged. The other side was a small circlet, a choker. It looked a lot like the one she’d… Wanted. For a while.

“E-Erika you shou-” She started shutting the box to hold it close before Erika stopped her.

“Jamelin. I-I’ve been thinking it over and… Well, I think I realized something. I don’t… I’m afraid….” She paused for a moment, trying to collect her thoughts into a cohesive sentence, her palms sweaty.

“I’m afraid of losing you. I don’t want to lose you, however selfish that sounds. I… I think I’m…. I think I’m in love with you.” She sputtered, uncharacteristically jittery, shoving her hands in her pockets as she cleared her throat, looking away with pink cheeks. Jamelin’s heart cracked, her mouth suddenly dry and her hands shaky again.

“Y-You…” She took a long, deep breath. “You idiot…” She mumbled, tears starting to brim in her own eye, swallowing hard as she smiled a little wider.

“I love you too.”

The lights buzzed like mosquitos in their ears as they blitzed past, casting blurry streaks of light along beside them, dashes of blue that pierced heavily through the scattered shadows, a field of blue ahead of them flickering with dust and cars, empty of drivers, tops crushed in and windows smashed, glass glimmering on the asphalt as they flew by. The whisper of the engines accompanied them, barely audible over the howl of the wind as they proceeded down the tunnel, weaving about between cars and carcasses, slim bikes built for this tearing along. A roar echoed down it's tight walls, bouncing about and surrounding them as they pressed onwards, coats fluttering about behind them as their quarry neared. The lights whisked by, again, and again, and again with a whoosh each time, approaching a turn. They both leaned into it, bikes sliding about in harsh drifts, before picking up speed again. It came into view, a hulking mass of skin and muscle and tissue and organs, crawling away from them. It was large, probably about the size of two buses slapped together haphazardly, pulling itself along on heavy sticks of meat, bony feet slamming into car roofs and the pavement, leaving cracks and dents as it scuttled along, seven legs alternating on each side in a grotesque wiggling 'pede fashion. It was covered in holes, some of them occupied by large, swollen and dead looking eyes, glazed over and coursing with black veins, some of them turning back and forth as it trucked on ahead of them.

Erika leaned forwards, a cruel grin splitting along her lips as she brought her helmeted head down under the short windshield, revving her engine as her bike began to sprint even faster, the speedometer pushing red. Jamelin leaned down, following suit with much less glee, sizing up the thing crushing its way down the tunnel. Looking for weak spots. The eyes, most likely. Many of this type had thick hides, soft tissue would be the ticket. Despite their haste, it was still moving at a comparable speed, heading towards a municipal branch. one that hadn't been evacuated. She reached down, one hand on the handlebar, the other digging into the holster on her side before she looked her pistol from it, before returning her hand, pistol at the ready now as she revved again, following after Erika who seemed to have a game plan. Jamelin squinted slightly, eyes narrowing as they continued, yanking to the side to avoid a car parked in the middle of the tunnel, Erika disappearing from view on the other side.

They were slowly beginning to gain, but she doubted it would be fast enough. At this rate it would smash straight through the security checkpoint. Jamelin pulled back slightly, running down a relatively straight path as she rose one hand, taking shaky aim before loosing a shot. It flew down the hall, pulling a thin blue flash of light along with it as it buried itself into a car that the thing was stepping on. She cursed quietly, taking aim again, leading the shit a little more before firing. The gun warmed and spat, the bullet shrieking down the tunnel to slam into a large eye on its hip, causing it to roar again, thrashing along still but a smidge slower, its back leg not moving quite the same as the rest. Another miss, another two bullets making contact, earning her a few more screams as the collum between her and Erika flicked by, sidling up beside Erika again as the wind howled past, pulling rudely at their helmets as they both sped up, it's new-found limp letting them push just a bit closer. Erika leaned down to the side slightly, rummaging about in a small compartment along the side of the bike, retrieving a small shard, a slab of black that looked about as big as a thermos but flat as a blade, it's end an ugly red, laced with a button and wires, which she clutched in her left behind her, the right hand still driving as they grew close enough to feel every one of it's steps, coursing up and tearing at their legs despite the suspension. Erika gritted her teeth, a toothy, sharp grin spreading over her lips behind the visor as her eyes narrowed, legs tensing.

Jamelin leaned even further forwards, pressing her body to the bike as she forced it as fast as she could, the readout maxing out at 200. She loosely recognized the plan, Erika would get close, bury the shard in it, and they would back up. Jamelin would play support and make sure it was preoccupied. For that, she needed to catch up. She began to pull forwards, glancing back once at Erika, swinging back and forth through the stagnant traffic, one handed but still capable as her coat whipped about behind her. The woman gave her a curt nod, which she took as encouragement, pressing forwards as she looked back to the road, wind ripping at her shoulders and helmet, shaking her windshield and battering her arms, which she tucked in as tight as possible, eyes peeled and burning as she watched every piece of debris ahead of her, narrowly avoiding them all, jerking away from an open car door, before regaining her balance and speeding after it.

It crushed forwards still, soon its feet coming down on cars that Jamelin was pushing past, coming to a slow equal with its head, keeping up as she fought the wind, pulling her arm up again to aim, loosing a shot at it. It did little, burying itself into the black and tan hide, fizzling out without it seeming to notice. She fired another, missing again, before her third caught it by an eye, causing it to shake its head and screech, its grotesque, bulbous sack of a brain case splitting in half as it opened, mouth wide enough to fit a person. Jamelin pushed the slide back with her bicep and hand before she waved her gun about, its glow prominent in the tunnel, a flock of those eyes rolling about in their sockets before flittering towards her, focusing in, all staring at her. She revved the engine again, sweat beading her brow as she looked ahead, dodging another car as she kept the gun far above her head, waving it like a flare. All she could hear was the rhythmic beating of the ground, the scream of the wind, her breath heavy in her helmet as she kept going, grasping the handlebar with white knuckles as she waved the gun above her head, teasing it on, keeping it busy. For a moment, it felt like it was catching up. Where was Eri-

Boom!

An explosion rattled her, her arm losing it's harsh control as she served slightly, hand falling to her handles to hold the bike straight again, pistol pressed between her hand and the grip, a ball of blue flame rising up behind the monster before turning red with a plume. That… Must've been Erika's bike.

That must have been Erika crashing.

She was about to hit the breaks, pull back and whip around to check on her, her mind racing, until she saw a flash of white hair and gray, in the air, halfway between the plume of fire and the target, before she fell back out of view, that sharp grin wider than ever as she fell towards it, slamming against its body as she reached out, fingers digging into an eye as a foot punched through another. She'd swapped the shard to her right at some point, slamming the blade into the hide of the mess, clinging on as the wind tore at her coat, throwing the heavy end of it about like tissue as her arms strained, muscle rippling under the skin as she pulled, fighting the air as she pulled herself up, pulling out the shard to bury it further up, pulling herself up again, finding a new eye to grab onto, earning her a screech each time as her fingers tore in to hook sinew, warm sap trickling down her arm as she pulled herself up and along, climbing up to the back, shimmying along. As this happened the target thrashed about, trying to throw her off, snapping Jamelin back to her senses as she saw Erika's tuft of hair peek out from the crest of it's back, raising her gun again to fire at it, hitting an already partially burst eye, goading it, gun glowing in the dym light of the tunnel, pushing the engine to it's max as she swung out in front of it, firing blindly backwards as she rode along, pulling it's attention to the shiny thing and not the woman clinging to it's back.

Erika pulled, grunting with the strain until she'd finally climbed up to the top, pulling herself along down toward it's head, clinging to the side of its neck as she slammed the shard down into its back one last time, shifting to grasp onto the socket of an eye with her hand, setting both feet heavy against its hide, thumb over the button. She looked up, the wind tearing at her hair and nudging at her goggles, she'd lost the helmet at some point, as she watched Jamelin. A thin streak of black, coat flying behind her as she leaned in close to the bike, married perfectly to it's design as she waved the gun out to the side, the only glow outside of the harsh lights lining the sides that flickered, shivering with the impact of the target's gait. Erika smiled, a little warmer this time, as she tensed, thighs coiled like springs, until she pressed the button, and threw herself away.

The thing made a noise, a disgusting shifting of tendons and flesh with building pressure, it's sprint not faltering as it began to swell around the shard, before the entire left side of it's neck burst in a vicious display of viscera fire, spraying outwards against cars and the wall of the tunnels as it's step faltered, some of the legs still swinging wildly as it collapsed to its side, crushing a few unfortunate cars beneath it as it came to a final stop, sliding a good distance as it went still, gray and black skin smoking still, the wide swath of bloody and exposed viscera charred and singed. Jamelin came to a harsh stop as it passed by, collapsing into its explosion as she whipped around, slowing dramatically as she proceeded down the opposite side, eyes scanning the cars. One had a crumpled roof, Erika lying on her back on its good, having rolled off the bent metal of the roof, coat protecting her from the glass.

Jamelin hopped off her bike which came to a stop as she hurried over, squeezing between two crushed cars and climbing over another to hop onto the roof of the car Erika had hit, crouching down to check on her. Erika groaned quietly, but looked… No real worse for wear. She pouted, holding a lower rib.

"That's… That's gonna leave a mark." She mumbled, wincing lightly as she applied pressure, stopping. Jamelin sighed quietly, straightening up to look down at Erika.

"C'mon you big lug. Gotta go inform Q." She said, offering her a hand. Erika squirmed slightly, stopping when it hurt her side.

"But Jamie, I can't stand it hurts so bad. Carry me? Or maybe kiss it better?" She asked, tone all too teasing as Jamelin grew progressively redder in the cheeks with each word before nudging Erika's arm harshly with the toe of her shoe, rolling her eyes as she turned away, hopping off to wade back to her bike.

Erika sat up, wincing slightly as she did.

"H-Hey wait up! You're not actually leaving me, are you?" She asked, watching Jamelin squeeze back past the two cars.

"You bet your ass I am, you can wait for the cleanup to get here, unless of course you get over here in the next convenient measurement of time." Jamelin retorted, coming to her bike to swing a leg over it, gripping the handlebars, pausing to swipe a wrist over it's dial, the screen waking up, glowing lightly in the dym light. Erika grumbled, hopping off the car to limp forwards, holding her side as she followed after Jamelin, coming to sit on the back of the bike, wrapping her arms around Jamelin's waist.

"Please go slow, I don't need to crash twice." Erika said, setting her cheek against the nape of Jamelin's neck, relishing Jamelin's warmth and relative softness, the comforting feel of her spine against Erika.

"And miss Charlie's new interview? No promises. Hold on." Jamelin said, a thin smile spreading over her lips under the helmet, revving the handles as they took off.

“Hey, what do you want to do after this?” Jamelin asked, her gaze drifting to the side, running along Erika’s face for a few moments before looking back ahead, a smile tugging at her lips as she shook her head. She’d never get enough of that stupid grin. Erika yawned, throwing her hands over her head, stretching.

“You know, I was thinking drinks, but maybe takeout will work.” She said, glancing to her side at Jamelin. The shorter of the two, yet no less equal. The cute bob of black hair about her, the operative would never get over her either. Jamelin laughed quietly, echoing down the empty hallway as they walked along.

“Takeout had better work, I’m taking a shower, laying down and not getting back up.” Jamelin said, sidling up a little closer to Erika as they walked, Erika letting her arms come down, her left wrapping around Jamelin’s shoulders as they walked along, Erika’s longer gait a little stuttered to keep flush with Jamelin.

“You’re so boring sometimes, you know that?” Erika poked, a smile splitting across her face again as Jamelin rolled her eyes, huffing.

“Yeah yeah miss “I’m not tired,” some of us are human. My legs hurt.” Jamelin responded, turning her nose up slightly as she looked away, her gaze filtering through the stained panes of glass beside them, the dark outside expansive and far, littered with glittering spikes that pushed up against the black sky, almost as if they were carrying it. “Asshole.” She whispered, setting her head against Erika’s shoulder as they stumbled along. Erika snickered, pressing her lips to the top of Jamelin’s head lightly before scrunching her nose, feigning a gag.

“You smell like guts.” She teased, pushing Jamelin away as she wafted at her nose.

“Y-You asshole! It’s your fucking fault!” Jamelin started, turning on a dime as she scooped an abandoned can off the windowsill, tossing it angrily at Erika. It bounced harmlessly off her shoulder as the taller one cackled, doubling over slightly with an arm over her middle, the other burying itself in her hair against the back of her head.

“You shoulda seen your face! And it worked didn’t it!? We got the baddi-”

“You’re gonna get my pistol up your ass soon enough! Stay in your own dingy apartment tonight, I don’t drink with stupid mean white-topped bitches that are too hot for their own good and ridiculously fucking stupid.” Jamelin grumbled, wrapping her arms around herself as she tugged her coat tight about her, huffing as she looked out the window again. Erika rolled her eyes, straightening up as she wiped a tear from them, waving her off.

“I’ll die it red or something.” Erika said, still weak from laughter as she began to walk again, gesturing for Jamelin to follow after. Jamelin begrudgingly followed after, still on the other side of the hall as she glared out the window.

“That’s not the issue, stu-!” A bang threw itself down the corridor. From somewhere far down, cutting Jamelin off before a hush settled over them.

“Hu- Who…” Jamelin gasped, looking down as she parted her coat. Blood was seeping from her stomach, wetting the black shirt she wore underneath. A bullet wound, right between the split zipper of her coat.

“What the fuck… Jamelin you o-” Erika squinted down the corridor, muttering to her side until she heard Jamelin cough, gasping in pain as she fell to her knees, breath coming heavier.

“E-...Erika…” She whispered, voice growing faint.

“Jamelin? Jamelin! Chr-” Another bang, prompting Erika to duck down as she dashed across the hall, falling to her knees beside Jamelin as she wrapped the smaller woman in her arms, tugging her coat tight as she glanced over her shoulder down the hallway, watching a figure emerge from a door along its side, followed by another, and another, soon four or five of them were walking towards them. Another gunshot, Erika tucking her head down as she held Jamelin close, the bullet hitting her in the back. She winced slightly, but the coat withheld, the impact still leaving a bruise. She picked Jamelin up, holding her close to her chest as she stood, glancing back and forth. The only way to the closest MC&D facility, or a hospital, was through them. Her breath started to run heavy, feeling Jamelin go limp in her arms. The shroud of black hair parted slightly as her head lulled back, a pair of sharp blue eyes staring into hers.

“Erika… I’ll… I’ll be fine…” Jamelin muttered, her eyes falling shut, lips still parted as she went slack, breath still coming slow, blood still pouring from the wound. Erika stared down at Jamelin for a few long moments before another shot hit her in the back, snapping her focus up. She sprinted across the hallway, shouldering open the first door she could, coming barreling into the abandoned room. It looked to have been a small apartment, emptied out a long time ago. It was practically just a box. Erika set Jamelin down beside the door, crouching down to dig around in her pocket, pulling out a small patch. She yanked Jamelin’s shirt from her pants, pulling it up to inspect the damage. A clean hole stared at her, punched through Jamelin’s stomach. She set the patch against it, pressing hard for a few long moments before she felt it stick. It’d hold for a bit. She had to clear a path quickly. A bit was not long.

Erika stood, staring down at Jamelin still.

She felt her blood boil, an itch running down her spine.

She turned to the door, shoving it open as she walked out, watching the now closer group approach her, slow as they watched her with weapons up and hot. Erika simply zipped up her coat, before balling a fist, the other twitching, fingers extended. Nothing would stop her from getting Jamelin help. Nothing.

The group opened fire, Erika throwing her arms up over her head, feeling a shot or two pelt her as she sprinted towards them, back and forth, crossing the distance in moments, four panes of glass flying past as she came close. She barreled into one before they had time to react, throwing them to the ground as she came to a stop over them, one knee on the ground beside them, foot planted on the other as one hand held them by the collar. Her other hand came back, up to her shoulder before she slammed her fist down into their visor, breaking the reinforced plate like glass, fist snapping bones and cartilage. She felt their nose snap to the side, their eye ridge break, the other crack, hearing the guttural sound of viscera as they screamed, the other still whipping around to point their guns at her as they yelled. Before they’d even manage, she pressed up to her feet, her stance low, hand still on the collar of the person she’d rammed into, other hand grabbing onto a strap on their shoulder as she screamed, every muscle in her body tensing as she heaved the body and it’s gear up, throwing it at them. The body slammed into two of them, sending them to the ground as one of the remaining two screamed, turning to start sprinting in the opposite direction.

“Demon! Demon!” They screamed as they ran, throwing the rifle aside as they ran, the one still remaining backing up slowly from Erika, gun still trained on her as they pulled the trigger, shouting over their shoulder.

“Oi! OI! Get your ass back he-” Erika threw her arm up again, shielding her face from the bullets before growling, throwing herself forwards as she reached out, coming close enough to set her hands on his shoulders, fingers digging into them like puddy as they collapsed to the ground, Erika leaning in as they slid against the ground to bite into his neck, feeling it vibrate as twitch as he screamed, her teeth shredding inwards, mouth full of blood as she felt his hyoid bone snap between her jaws, his screams becoming little more than gurgles as she pulled back, throwing her head up as blood rained about her, staining the pure white of her hair. The two beside her struggled with the body on top of them, but they weren’t of her concern. She looked down slowly, staring down the corridor, watching the one that ran. They were making good pace. Nearly down the hall.

Erika smiled, spitting out a mouthful of squishy viscera and tendons, wiping her lips with the back of her hand before she stood, planting a boot against the face of the man still struggling weekly, clawing at his throat as he gurgled, sucking blood into his lungs. She lowered herself, before breaking out into a sprint, tearing down the corridor, feeling the air bite and pull at her hair and face as she ran. The runner’s back grew closer, larger, her eyes watching the shoulder blades move under the jacket, their neck twitching, the beads of sweat lost in their hair and streaking off of them.

She reached out, hand snagging their collar, before her foot planted against a grate along the floor.

She felt that tingle down her spine again, every inch of her body burning, fire coursing through her veins as she strained, twisting as she pulled, redirecting the runner’s momentum upwards as she screamed, her throat going raw as she pulled, bringing the merc over her head, slamming them into the ground. She stared, watching with a horrific satisfaction as their legs hit the ground first, their lower back snapping in half as their torso recoiled backwards. It snapped forwards again, their face hitting the concrete with a gross, wet smack. She looked up, watching the two she’d knocked over get up, shoving the body off of them as they sprinted in the other direction. She rolled her shoulders, chest heaving as she sucked air in, shivering slightly.

She felt it eating at her, nips along her back, tearing into her flesh. Her head felt warm. She felt warm.

She ran down the corridor, slower this time, coming to a stop at the door she’d left Jamelin behind, pushing it open and crouching down to pick her up, cradling Jamelin close as she backed out, holding her bridal style as she started running down the corridor, cocking her head slightly.

“Hello? Op here, we need a room. Bullet wound- I don’t care! Have one open, I’m on my way.”

"Babe, you really know how to set off fireworks..."

"Could you be any cornier? It's not even July."

"I could be, but at that point it would be popping."

Jamelin rolled her eyes heavily, sitting back into the couch, the arguably plush pleather pressing back against her shoulders. It felt nice, considering how tight they'd been the past few days. She reached up, running a hand through her messy toss of black hair, digits catching on tangles to tug them out, wincing slightly as she did, arm extending out and up into a stretch. "Shit... How long were we away?"

"Since Tuesday, four, five days?" Erika commented, slipping by as she bent over to place a little kiss on Jamelin's nose as she passed by, spinning about as she snatched a tablet off the table, bringing it up to read through the title, barely seeing the rest of the text as she flicked through, skimming. She paused by the counter to pick up a bagel, bringing it to her lips absentmindedly to take a bite as she engrossed herself in a particular line, squinting slightly. Jamelin smiled slightly, a soft brush of blush on her cheeks as she curled slightly, sipping her coffee as she watched Erika pace. "Hey sweetipie?"

"Mmm?" Jamelin responded, taking another long sip with shut eyes, relishing the bitter taste.

"Did you read this?"

"No, why?"

"'pparently some idiot figured it would be a good idea to crack open the under again."

"..."

"Jamie?"

"God fucking damnit."

P D : V E R O K > .

P D : V E R O K > . .

P D : V E R O K > . . .

P D : V E R A S T

N E L L O Y A L L <-> S I L L A

W E L C O M E

V E M K I K A : DAILY PROTOCOL

V E M K I K A : INITIALIZE BOOTSTRAP

V E M K I K A : INITIALIZE PROCESS CHAIN

V E M K I K A : INITIALIZE OPTICAL SENSORS & INPUT PROCESSORS

V E M K I K A : INITIALIZE CONSCIOUSNESS

V E M K I K A : QUERY OBJECTIVE

V E M K I K A : SEARCH DATABASE

B A S S A L : NO CONNECTION > SEARCHING LOCALLY

V E M K I K A : SEARCHING.

V E M K I K A : SEARCHING..

V E M K I K A : SEARCHING...

V E M K I K A : OBJECTIVE CONFIRMED > SETTING OBJECTIVE...

V E M K I K A : OBJECTIVE MEMORIZATION

OBJECTIVE : WAIT.

A long forgotten gaze trailed up, following the rust caked wall, a thick film of grime covering chipped, rotting paint and poorly up-kept metal. The body stumbled into life, eyes prying themselves further open, it was just that now. A body. A shell. A pile of machinery that had but one purpose: To wait.

It had been there for a long time, forgotten by all that breathed. The only thing that remembered it's existence was the floor, imprints where it had walked over again and again growing deeper each passing day. The room remembered it's presence well, for it had been there since the room's conception. It roused itself, pulling itself from the port pressed into it's back, stepping from the small tube it rested within, severing itself from the thick mass of wires and tubes that fed into the port. The sentry crossed the room, coming to stop in front of a glassy wall, reaching up to press a hand against the glass. Blank eyes stared through, marred with a semi-present longing. On the other side of the window stood the universe, staring back, the glare of stars and the lack thereof so painfully close. The infinite expanse, a field stretching forever.

The people it had at one point recognized had left, leaving it here, just to stand. To watch. Keep the seat warm in case they came back.

So it did.

It stood there in it's tube for 4 hours at a time, spending the rest of it's day standing here at the window or pacing, working through equations slowly to help itself pass the time. It had little it held close to itself, now. But, there were a few things.

Memories. It held onto them tightly, despite them being made of smoke, bleeding from it's grasp. When it could freely choose what it did.

When it didn't have to wait.

When it would've gone with the people, out wherever they had gone.

Instead, it stood, growing weary of material as it slowly replaced parts, fixed others and charged, waiting for the solar panels and redundancies outside to fall apart, so that the power flowing through it would finally ebb, and cease flowing.

They'd left so long ago.

Nothing but it's dreams had gone with them. Where had they gone? Wherever it was, it hoped it was a nice place.

Perhaps someday they would come and take it there, perhaps it would not be so alone, missing something it had since long forgotten and had yet to remember.

It could wait, for them.

What was another decade?