Lucas had been sealed away from the outside world, but had not yet lost his sense of time or placement. The passage of days, then weeks, were written in the subtle signs around the laboratory, clear to one who possessed his rational mind,
The immortal had warned his captor of the invalidation that his abilities would have on any research efforts, and it was with no small sense of quiet satisfaction that he found his assumptions to be accurate--Huey, and his subordinates had given up on direct experimentation days ago.
Pain had been expected when he had agreed to come here--the first encounter with Huey, through one of his enforcers, had been immediately violent. Violence had set the tone for Lucas' expectations before arriving, and he was not incorrect in his assumptions: the alien had put him through numerous tests, initially. Scrapings, samplings, syringes, questions, drugs, concoctions--Lucas was no stranger to scientific process, nor was he inexperienced in pain. He had endured worse, many times.
That process had been discontinued almost immediately, leaving Lucas as a prisoner instead of a test subject. He was no longer restrained, nor was he subjected to further testing, but he had been sealed away within a singular chamber; the close proximity to whatever type of entity Huey Laforet truly was--Lucas had numerous theories--had suppressed his magic greatly...the monstrous presence of his captor was akin to a constant static, painful, irritating, and distracting him from his most potent of arcane abilities.
Huey wasn't alone in his base of operations: Lucas had noted the same hooded creature that had attacked him would frequently visit, and patrol the area. It maintained the same strange patterns of twitches and grunts, not unlike the night they had attacked him--the alchemist tentatively labelled them as the weakest of his captors, as he had seen it possesses few more skills than physical might and magic. Both of which he could counter, if he was properly prepared, and both of which he had already experienced firsthand.
The other two guardians were less certain, in his mind; the first was another hooded entity, which often bore firearms when he caught sight of them. Another wore no hood at all, to conceal their identity. She had introduced herself by name: Android 18. Unlike the others, she was talkative and personable...though her mentality, and the obvious bloodlust that had permeated through their brief discussions, made her no less of a danger.
It was a small operation, but Lucas did not entirely doubt its efficiency; the four had evaded detection thus far. What worried him more was why these people were here, and what they were researching. There was always the possibility that there was no end goal, and that they were just psychopaths masquerading under the guise of researchers, but that would be the easy assumption--Lucas was not ready to surrender his numerous theories to one so simple.
He had longevity and patience, afforded by his immortality; Lucas paced over to the nearby medical table, which had been scrubbed clean of his blood by chemicals, and settled upon it with a sigh.
Sleep was the payment of another bargain, and another consequence he had to deal with--even if he was to leave this place, he would have to face that problem as well. A logical mind buzzed with the thoughts of both the present and the future, and of problems and solutions, before it slowly dimmed into the silence of hard-earned slumber.
There would be tomorrow, as there always seemed to be for him. And with tomorrow he would solve his predicament and move on to the next one.
Nothing about the day seemed to match the oncoming battle; no storm split the sky, nor rain poured downward, to herald the ensuing chaos. It was humid and warm, the early evening awash with the natural sounds of insects, and the streets outside were still packed with wanderers and shoppers.
It was the way of life on the island--something was always brewing and, whether it was genuinely unknown or simply ignored, the general populace seemed to be blind to its presence until it had entered their own lives directly. Blissfully unaware, and enjoying the warmth of a beautiful Summer afternoon, they shuffled by the notorious mansion without a glance.
They were just commoners, forgettable at best and fodder at worst, who were blind to the matters that brewed within the court of the Queen.
Angel didn't care about the people outside, because she knew that her concerns and troubles were the problems of an entire community--no, an entire world--and would always be heeded by her loyal followers and adoring children. The people outside didn't know about Huey Laforet, his threats, or his crusade against her family; few were aware of the trouble that had befallen her life--again, she reminded herself--
"Your majesty..." said Prospero, sternly but respectfully, "my squad is prepared to move out, and make a decisive strike against Huey Laforet and his accomplices. Most of the soldiers will stay here, to protect you and your family, and I have dispatched a small crew to protect your close allies at their own homes."
The queen nodded along with her commander's words, shifting her gaze from a passerby outside to meet Prospero's gaze. "Good. What about Graham? He's--is he alright? Are you watching him?"
"He's under close supervision, yes."
"...good--make sure it stays that way" Angel murmured.
A silence settled under the room, as the valiant warrior waited patiently for further instructions but received none; Prospero narrowed her gaze subtly, lips thinning with growing impatience.
"What about Broadway?" the queen mumbled eventually, "...has he shown up yet? What's going on with all of his people?"
"The gargoyles will be led by his father, not your friend. I've spoken with Rekonn, and he will be accompanied by two other members of his clan...bringing their total contribution to the mission up to three. It's hardly a sizable group, but our soldiers more than make up for it. We would have been more than capable of carrying out this mission alone, so any additions should only help ensure our success."
Angel grew silent once more. Prospero took it as a sign to continue.
"I made certain that no information was leaked about this mission, though I can't promise the gargoyles have done the same, which should, ideally, mean that Huey will be unprepared for us. If that is the case, his hooded assailants should not be present. Even if they are...we greatly outnumber their assumed numbers, especially since I was nearly able to incapacitate one on my own..." the commander explained, none-too-subtle pride tinging her words.
"This weather is awful...I'd prefer rain. Wouldn't you?" Angel asked, impatiently tapping her foot against the floor, and staring expectantly.
"The soldiers are most familiar with hot and dry conditions--it is the environment they have trained and served in for most of their lives. It will also make tracking easi-"
"All I'm saying is I would have preferred rain. But whatever, yes, I'm glad it...the advantage, and all. Just see it done. I want this guy brought back alive, if you can--kill any of those hooded fuckers he has around, I don't need them, but I want that no-eyebrows piece of shit brought to me...I'm gonna show him how fucking stupid it was, to think that he could fuck with me. That weird fuck...just bring him here, if you can, so I can have some fun with him. Get everyone to join in too--he's been hurting everybody, since he started, so it'll be fun for all of us."
"I will try to bring him back alive, your majesty."
"Good...just get it done, 'cause I'm sick of this--I'm sick of these assholes trying to ruin everything for me. First it was Emile, that fucker, and before that it...just, get it done, alright? Make it quick, and fix it."
Prospero nodded, bowing her head respectfully, before turning towards the door, heels clacking against the floor as she left the queen's room.
Left alone, Angel turned towards the window. It would be dusk in about an hour, which would help with the brightness, but it would still be warm and humid.
"It should've rained..." she sighed to herself, shaking her head and closing the curtains.
Matthias never forgot the day he had been taken from his old life and brought to this dark place, even as he lost track of minutes then hours then days and began to lose hope. It had been Father's Day--he had decided, selfishly, to leave the side of the man who'd raised him and take the afternoon for himself. Perhaps, if he had stayed home and celebrated his appreciation, then he wouldn't be here; the possibility of his own failure leading to his situation was constantly repeated as a guilty sentence, within the back of his mind.
If his abduction was another shot at Angel and her allies, then his captive surely had a long-term plan in effect; Matthias had not been harmed yet, not truly, and the consistent loneliness and dreariness of his surroundings were the greatest of his discomforts.
The strange man known as Huey Laforet had performed tests on him, mostly through injections and taking samples from his blood, hair, skin, and other places; he had surely injected something disorienting into his system, as his head was in a constant state of dizziness and his mind felt constantly blurred. He'd been asked questions, but couldn't remember them when he thought on it later--he knew he'd answered his captor, if only to get answers of his own.
He didn't want to fight, the warrior had fled as soon as he had been forced into this dark place. There was just the scared boy, homesick and fearful of the future.
Fears became reality as soon as he heard the soft sound of steps pacing across the stone floor, ears twitching at the only sound he had heard, other than his own ragged breathing, in a long while.
"I previously informed you that I would not kill you..." the dark-haired creature murmured, in his all-too-slow tone, as he circled about his bound captive. It wasn't predatory movement, nor intentionally taunting, only studious and contemplative; Huey Laforet was cruel only when it benefited him, and he wasted few extra words. "...that has not changed. You are safer here...the coming days would have a number of potential dangers, for you."
Matthias made the effort to laugh bitterly, to make the nonsense of his captor's words obvious, but the noise bubbled and died within his dry throat.
"...our meeting seems coincidental--highly improbable, but occurring regardless..." the raven-haired alien continued, reaching out towards one of the many surgical trays, putting on a set of medical gloves, and taking a syringe in hand. "...do you have any assumptions as to why that is?"
"...because you hate Angel--that must be it. You're just...a monster...this isn't some...s-some coincidence, it's..." Matthias rasped in reply, muscles tensing and skin aching as he spoke.
"You were discovered by a family of creatures very similar to yourself, on a purely aesthetic level...a curious coincidence. And, as I have recently discovered, you have also become acquainted with many Sesharrimians..."
"While several of your biological components are Sesharrimian in nature, you are not a Sesharrimian yourself...that particular species is only one aspect of your composition, your design, and I find it fascinating that you have been so readily accepted among them despite your...abundance of differences. You are not one of them."
Matthias grew silent as he processed the strange explanation, as his confusion and curiosity began to match his fear.
"...I did not expect to find you upon this island, and it was only after checking the medical files at my previous workplace that I came to accept that it was truly you..." Huey continued, "And...even afterwords, I had to confer with the collective, to ensure that my information was accurate...a process that took several months, by the scale of time that this planet uses."
Confusion gained ground on curiosity, every word seeming to only add to the vague nonsense. Matthias sighed sharply through his teeth, feeling the rage return but none of his strength.
"...w-what are you talking about?" the boy demanded, spitting out the question from between clenched teeth.
"I am merely a servitor...a creation of a much more powerful entity, that I was made to serve. You are not unlike me, in that nature; I was created to answer, but you were created as a question--you are a conglomerate of alien species, combined into one singular organism. We invented you...created you. You are part Sesharrimian, yes, but that is merely one part of you. The Grotesquerie have invented many entities, like yourself, to study how biology and properties can combine within a sentient being...you are an experiment, of my people. That is the reason for your creation...and there are countless others, like you, scattered among the stars..."
"T-that's...w-what? You--I don't...that's a load of bullshit! Y-you must...you read my mind, and know about...how I feel, a-about my parents and everything, and you're just--you're just making this all up! You're trying to trick me!" Matthias rasped, as his strained body shook from the fury building under his skin.
There was a sharp pain at his neck, the point of whatever Huey had injected into him via syringe, and he felt himself grow numb and weak.
"I did explore your memories, yes. Much as I actively report all of my discoveries and experiences back to the collective mind, so too do you. You always have, since you are capable of conscious thought, and have been sending us everything you've ever known...every thought, every bit of knowledge, and every action will be ours to archive..." Huey explained, removing the syringe and placing it on the nearby surgical tray.
"It makes thought, doesn't it?" he asked the nearly unconscious boy, "...you could find nothing about your parents, on your supposed home planet, because those memories were false. We introduced them to give you a sense of identity...and, from there, you would live your own life, upon this planet, and we would spectate. However, now that I intend to eradicate the Sesharrimian presence from this island, I had to intervene...their biology is a considerable part of your design, and I would not want you to be killed. That is why you are here...for your own protection. Because you are a valuable creation...a fascinating invention. We would not want you to die, when we can still gain so much from your existence...you are out creation, and we will ensure your safety. You are still far too useful to lose..."
Matthias opened his mouth to protest, to voice his rage and disgust, but could only exhale a shaking breath; the effects of the drug. The world grew heavier still, and the words that were being spoken seemed distant and quiet. His eyes closed, and he slipped off to sleep.
Maybe--hopefully--things would make more sense upon awaking.
It had been three hours since his father, and the rest of his remaining family, had ventured out into the woods.
Harold knew that because he had spent every other moment glancing at the old grandfather clock in the corner, taking in the passing of hours and minutes with wide eyes and a held breath. The couch in the living room was comfortable, as it had always been when he'd visited Yakiv and his father's home in the past, but he could not find any place that felt right to him. He constantly shifted and fidgeted, sighing deeply as his sense of unease escalated with time.
His father had insisted that he should stay the night, bringing Davey with him, and he could see the logic of such a plan; Yakiv was perceptive and powerful, with the ability to keep them safe if anything should go wrong with their plan.
But it was the idea that something could go wrong that was worrying him; Rekonn had taken his entire family into the forest to find Huey...everyone but him.
He had never deeply cared for his clan, which was why he had left it for the human world. His original name was discarded for years, in favor of an identity embedded in the culture of the city, and he had been happy--overjoyed--to immerse himself fully in a new home. It was a new beginning, full of opportunity and excitement, without any of the problems of the past.
Missing his first home only came when it was gone, and a shameful part of him wondered if that was the reason he missed it; guilt was a heavy part of his grief, and he found himself missing his clan's ancestral home only when it was no longer theirs.
Family was what had truly felt lost to him, and was far less questionable in his mind--it was true, not everyone he had known was kind to him, but he would never wish death on anyone. They were everything to him, even when he had left, and he had no sense of finality to having them leave his life--the only thing they would know of him, in their last moments, was how he had willingly chosen to leave them all.
His mother...his few friends, all of them, they were all gone. And now he could lose the little family he had left; his father had taken both Demona and Phoebus with him, and left his only child behind to fear they would never return. He could lost it all--lose them, and then what would happen? Huey would come after those who had attacked his forces and disrupted his operations, targeting his friends and acquaintances and...everyone. Everyone he cared for was now a potential target.
He blinked at the careful grasp on one of his hands, firm but gentle, before returning it with a soft flex of his own fingers. Davey sighed quietly at his side, tilting his head to offer his fiance a faint smile, and, despite his fears and doubts, Harold returned that too.
Everything could be lost tonight, and in the coming days, but he still had to hope--he had to believe, just a little, that things would turn out okay. That they would win out this problem--this battle, that had been waging for years now--and continue on with their lives...maybe even return to the craziness that they called normalcy, around here.
All he could do was hope, because what else was there to do? Foolish or not, honest or not, he'd take a faint feeling of hope over the fear that had ruled him for hours now.
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