Taking the tension along with him, everyone soon collapsed onto the floor.

  Spreading their arms out wide, Luke in particular looked up toward the metallic ceiling, as he skimmed through the many spiderwebs up top. Ignoring the spiders, Luke arched his head forward, looking toward his group.

  (Miles) I call this a miracle if I see one. He could’ve captured us if he wanted to.

  (Luke) But he didn’t.

  (Miles) Then more than enough reason to ditch the train heist.

  Luke covered his left hand over his left eye, as his right hair blocked his right. Stabbing his forehead with his long nails, he put most of his body weight onto the end of his tailbone, while tucking his knees in.

  Behind him, Hope put both of her hands onto his shoulders, holding herself up by pinning pressure onto her kneecaps. As Luna stood behind him, both of her hands balled into tightened fists.

  But her breathing was slowed.

  (Luna) Wherever you go, I go.

  (Luke) Luna…

  (Luna) Just make your decision already. Besides, I need someone to forge two new swords.

  (Luna’s thoughts) And entirely new clothes.

  Still covering his left eye, Luke began to pull out his hand, placing it down on the floor. Tilting his head upward, everyone else stood in front of him, rubbing their arms with their hands or fiddling with their fingers. His fingers twitching, he swiftly got up, using his palms to scrape against the old metal to stand himself.

  (Luke) We’re surrendering.

  A piece of metal soon broke.

  Everyone turned their eyes on the back of the group, an elf with ginger hair wielded the talkie-cell, having it wrapped around his fingers. Some of its buttons missing from the device, those same buttons trickled the floor beneath Sean’s boots.

  The talkie-cell being beyond broken, the elf that crushed it with his grip only glared at Luke, red already straining his eyes.

  (Sean) What the hell are you suggesting…

  (Luke) There’s no point in this. The agents and government know where we are at.

  (Sean) So you’re submitting to them!?

  Taking a step back, Sean used his other finger to point it straight at Luke, his eyes already burning in a crimson red.

  Luke soon began to clench both of his hands, along with his lower body boiling up like a flame heating up oil. Despite his anger swelling inside of him, he pushed his feet to help him stand up, followed by his hands sticking out as if he were about to receive a gift.

  A hand gesture that he used in most of those little speeches.

  (Luke) Look, Sean, we don’t want any of this. No one does. Besides, that train heist plan wasn’t even going to work in the first place.

  (Sean) So you were selling me false hopes!? I knew that you were cowardly enough to never go along!

  Luke remained silent, his long fingernails beginning to dig into both of his palms. Taking in a big deep breath, a slow and long exhale took form, his chest ballooning up from the excess air.

  But Sean glued the soles of his feet on the metallic floor, his death grip on the talkie-cell sparkling some of its circuits that were long dead. Pieces of scrap and metal dangling off of the destroyed device, Sean lowered his hand down to his side.

  (Sean) Yeah, that’s what I thought. That’s the one thing that I hate about you; always following or pleasing the crowd. The moment someone criticizes you, you just seem to do whatever it takes to perfect that image huh?

  (Luke) It’s called learning from my mistakes…

  (Sean) It’s called being a pushover, ass-kisser.

  Blood soon began to drip down from both of Luke’s hands, letting it roll deep into his leather jacket’s sleeves. Tilting his head downward, his knuckles soon sprouted out like sore sickly thumbs.

  Hope hovered behind Luke’s back, having both of her hands inches away from his central back. Seeing this, Sean’s frown deepened even more, looking away as he snickered.

  (Sean) Bastard can’t even pick.

  Luke slowly tilted his head upward, his face darkened along with his right side bang still covering his right eye. His left eye in full display, red strain soon began to form just on the edge of his pupils, his body soon shivering like he was cold.

  A low groan escaped out of his throat, and more blood swept out of his scraped and jabbed palms.

  As a low deep voice took hold of Luke.

  (Luke) Shut up.

  Everyone took a step back.

  Instead of ceasing his anger, Sean also clenched both of his hands together as well, his eyes fully encapsulated with crimson red. Walking toward Luke, Luke already had his left eye staring deep into both of his green eyes, as both were at the breaking point of seeing red.

  While Sean let the talkie-cell drop to the floor.

  Using his free hand, Sean thrust it up to grab Luke’s collar. Towering over him with his shadow, both of their faces were inches away from theirs.

  (Sean) Then make me. Gwen was ten times a leader than you ever were.

  (Luke) Leave … Gwen out of this …

  (Sean) If only someone were to plan their counterattack better.

  (Luke) I said shut up…

  Luke lowered both of his hands down to his thighs, letting them motionless to gravity. Biting down the insides of his cheeks, blood circulated all around his dried-up mouth, with most of his iron lacing down into his throat.

  At long last, Sean pushed down his eyes, his death grip on Luke’s collar soon ceased. Like a deflated balloon, Sean looked down to the ground, as bits of tears soon began to form right underneath his eyelids.

  (Sean) Gwen would have still been alive—

  Luke punched Sean.

  Delivering an uppercut to Sean’s chin, some of his knuckles chipped from inside his hand. Using all that he had, his right arm bulged its lean muscles, causing everyone to let their breaths situate inside of their lungs.

  In slow motion, Sean fell onto the rusted metal floor, hitting the back of his head along the metal. More blood letting loose, his eyes widened, along with the corners of his lips moistened by his blood that mixed with his drool. His entire body numb, the only thing that he could move was just his eyeballs, seeing the huffing and puffing Luke with drool streaming on the end of his right lip.

  Wiping it away with his right sleeve, his right hand soon bruised from the punch.

  (Luke) I told you to shut up…

  ______________________________________________________________________________

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  (Prominis 21, 56 / 8:43PM)

  Six years ago.

  On the third day of basic training. Before the raid, before the attack on Lagefor, the Blood Eagle raid, The Array…

  But after the fall.

  A 14-year-old Sean walked the halls with both of his hands inside of his pants, wearing nothing but a gray shirt and blue pants. A large white bondage strip blanketing his broken nose, he had his head tilted downward, as both of his shoulders ached from his day’s training.

  Unable to see before him, his body tapped in front of another.

  Letting out a yelp, Sean slowly opened his eyes to see a twelve-year-old boy with light brown hair and red eyes. As the boy rubbed his eyes, he was significantly shorter than he was, and Sean towered over him by his shadow alone.

  (Sean) Y-You?! Watch where you’re going!?

  (Luke) I-I’m sorry! I promise it won’t happen again!

  (Sean) Good. Cause I don’t want anything to do with you after what that bitch did to me!

  Brushing past Luke’s shoulder, a low grumble creeped out of Sean’s throat. Slanting his eyes, and scrunching his face, he put on a frown that reached down toward his lower jawline.

  But after just a couple of steps, Sean stopped.

  Glancing from behind, Sean took note of Luke’s nervous stare, as the boy began to look down onto the ground with pushed-down eyes. Pulling his hands out of his pockets, he pushed back his wavy hair, sending a couple of dandrums to litter his shirt.

  (Sean) W-What do you want?

  (Luke) Why did you hurt me with that jack-in-the-box?

  Exhaling out, Sean turned his body around, allowing it to hunch forward. His body restless, he pushed both of his shoulders upward to create an “I don’t know” shrug, his frown being replaced by a nonchalant stare.

  (Sean) That was just a little prank. What I got was much worse than a bruised chin.

  (Luke) … I’m sorry.

  (Sean) Forget about it. Besides, Luna was the one who punched me, not you. You know what?

  Sean walked toward the twelve-year-old boy, standing in front of him as he extended his hand out. Seeing the elf’s smooth porcelain palm, Luke only gulped down, since it was the first time other than Stan that he got up close with another elf.

  (Sean) Truce?

  Giving him a shy nod, Luke slowly and nervously extended his hand out, gripping the elf’s smooth hand with his sweat-tainted hand. His face pushed down, Luke glanced from behind to notice a teenage girl poking her head out from her dorm room.

  Her eyes glared straight at the ginger-haired elf, Sean in return stuck his tongue out.

  (Luna) Watch it, or I’ll break your arm in two.

  (Sean) Yeah yeah yeah. Just continue sleeping will ya?

  (Luna) I’m keeping my eye on you.

  Slamming her door, Sean rolled his eyes while letting out a dry scoff from his diaphragm. Putting both of his hands inside his pants, he turned his body with just the heels of his feet, keeping his head down while leaving Luke to be alone.

  Blowing and breathing out air from his mouth, he arched his neck upward to look up at the white-crusted ceiling. Placing both of his hands on the back of his head, he walked past Cameron and Ryan who played poker on the floor near the stairs.

  (Ryan) Need anything Sean?

  Ryan scratched his right cheek with his right hand, trapping fur inside of his fingernails as he wielded a deck of cards with his left. Furrowing his brow, Ryan quickly stood up, wiping away some fur that began to shed on his clothes.

  Jolting up, Sean glanced at the two beast-humans, giving them a sideways peace sign.

  (Sean) No worries, just thinking about something.

  (Ryan) About what? Putting Luke in a maid costume?

  (Cameron) Pfft … hahaha

  Grabbing his stomach, both of Cameron’s hands were occupied, his laughter shaking the thin walls of the hallway.

  His face flushed red, Sean walked past the two of them, ignoring Cameron’s wheezing laugh that was passed down by his horse qualities. While Ryan snorted and sneezed with every breath he inhaled, it only caused Sean to bite down on his jaw. As he continued to stomp forward.

  (Sean’s thoughts) One of these days, I’ll pay you back tenfold…

  ______________________________________________________________________________

  (Reverence 3, 59 / 10:28PM)

  Back to the present.

  His vision from all around the edges was blurred, the only thing that he could see was far in the distance. Looking up at the ceiling, an old bird’s nest made out of old sticks of tumbleweed was barely seen. Following his jaw unable to open and close, his mouth was wide open for any spider to crawl into, along with his chin being dented with a gooey purple bruise.

  But ignoring the old bird’s nest, Sean scanned his eyes onto Luke, whose breath jumped up and down in an arithmetic pattern.

  Unable to push himself up, the only thing that he could do was curl up his fingers and toes. Like biting down on a jaw-breaker, Sean pushed both of his jaws to clamp shut, his cheeks cramping from the overload of stress.

  (Sean’s thoughts) That bastard … ah!

  Like being stabbed in his mouth, the pain finally awakened both of his hands. Thrusting them onto the area of which Luke bruised, he pushed his lower jaw to relocate itself back into place, a sigh of relief escaping from his unlocked mouth.

  His breathing heavy, Sean pushed himself out of the floor. Hunching his back, both of his hands were already conjoined into fists, along with both of his eyes resorting back to his strained red eyes.

  (Sean) Now you’ve done it…

  (Luke) I’ve told you to shut up.

  A small streak of blood ran down his right lip, Sean wiped it clean off with the palm of his hand. Letting both of his hands droop down, his body lounged in a weird drooped position, his feet and legs spread apart to let his knuckles hover over the ground by a foot high. Keeping his heavy stare on Luke, Sean put his left hand inside his leather jacket, letting his knuckles graze the inside of his pocket.

  Pulling out a smoke grenade, Sean raised his left hand high, denting the metal with his jagged fingernails. Throwing the smoke grenade down to his feet, a thick cloud burst from its prison, releasing a foul smell that made Luke walk backward. Swaying both of his hands up and down, he closed his eyes shut to not let the stinging smoke molest his eyes, followed by the others turning their heads.

  (Luke) Sean!

  His soul rang the old reverb service bell.

  Jumping back, a gust of wind pushed onto his face, barely opening his eyes to see Sean’s fist inches from him. Tightening his entire body, Luke raised both of his hands toward his shoulder, while continuing to walk backward as another fist came pouring at him again.

  Dodging that attack, there was an opening, but Luke kept his fists close to his body.

  Seeing the fight commence, Hope lunged her right foot forward as tears soon began to plow out of her eyes. Being held back, a hand with dull fingernails made her glue the soles of her feet to the metallic floor. Nudging every bit of her body to push forward, both her feet pricked like tiny fire ants, lighting up the bottom of her feet.

  (Luna) Let them Hope…

  (Hope) But they’re—

  (Miles) We’ll only intervene if things get messy…

  (Hope) W-Why are you all just—

  (Benn) It’s a duel Hope.

  Benn’s cheeks wavered as he continued to see the two young men fight. Having his hands loose on his thighs, he couldn’t look toward the teary-blue-eyed woman who wheezed uncontrollably.

  Both of her hands trembling, her lips puckered up, with both corners of her eyes soon jetting out a long line of salted water.

  (Christian) It was about to happen … but not this soon.

  Instead of folding his arms, Christian wrapped both of his rough hands together on his crotch, keeping his head down while watching the fight. As Pacifica had both of her hands hovering over her mouth, Chris let his hands droop down with the flow of gravity.

  For the only sound that dwelled inside of the factory alone, was the gusts of air, the clacking of boots, and the bottled-up rage of both elf vs quarter elf.