Roako shut the door behind him, the latch clicking softly into place.
The sound felt too loud.
His room was dim, lit only by a lantern and the strips of light shining through the cracks of the window shutters. The inn's noises were distant now: the muffled laughter, the clicking of glasses, and boots pressed against the wood. Even those began to fade as his thoughts took hold, his breathing becoming uneven.
He leaned his back against the door and slid down until he was sitting on the floor.
His hands shook.
He stared at them, his fingers curled, like they didn't belong to him anymore. The gauntlets rested on the bed across the room, thrown atop it as he entered. The dull steel reflected the light. They looked heavier than before, watching him.
Kyri's voice echoed in his head.
"Be useful."
Roako pressed his palms across his eyes, trying to drown the thoughts out. It didn't work. Her touch followed his cheek. Her touch followed, gentle and possessive, lingering on his cheek.
His chest tightened.
He sucked in a breath, then another. Neither reached his lungs properly. His heart hammered against his ribs, each beat louder than the last, until it drowned out the rest.
The orphanage walls crept back into his mind.
Cold stone. Quiet rooms. Adults who smiled too easily. Promises that came with conditions. He had learned early that kindness was rarely free.
"I should've known," he thought bitterly.
Roako pushed himself up, dragging himself towards the bed, collapsing onto it face-first. The mattress dipped under his weight, the smell of old fabric and dust filling his nose. He clenched his sheets in his fists, knuckles paling.
If I had been stronger…
If I hadn't hesitated…
If I killed the beast faster…
He shook his head, trying to drown his thoughts out.
Mo wouldn't have screamed. Baron wouldn't have bled. Kyri wouldn't have had an excuse.
His jaw tightened.
The room felt too small. The air too thick. He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling, counting the cracks. One. Two. Three.
They blurred together.
His gaze shifted toward the gauntlets sitting beside him.
Slowly, he sat up and grabbed them.
The metal was cool against his skin as he slid them on. The familiar hiss of steam whispered through the seams as they adjusted to him. They fit him perfectly. Too perfect. Like they were waiting.
Roako flexed his fingers.
Power hummed beneath the steel. Strength. Force. Enough to tear through the stone. Enough to kill.
Enough to be useful.
His stomach twisted.
"What good are you," he muttered, his voice hoarse, "if all you do is what you're told."
The gauntlets didn't answer.
He lowered his hands onto his lap, shoulders slumping. For the first time since leaving the orphanage, he felt the same sense of helplessness creeping back in. No matter how far he ran, someone would always be holding his leash.
Unless he chose otherwise.
Roako exhaled slowly, forcing his breath to steady. His hands stopped shaking, not because fear was gone, but because something had taken its place.
Resolve.
If Kyri thought he was just another piece to move, she was wrong. If the Underworld expected obedience, they would learn his defiance.
He wasn't strong enough yet.
But he would be.
Roako stood, removing the gauntlets and setting them down carefully on a nightstand. Not like weapons. Like promises. He lay back on the bed, staring into the darkness once more.
This time, when sleep finally came, it wasn't peaceful.
But it was his.
~ ~ ~
Mo was left alone, unbound in the corner of the backroom. Silent tears streamed down her face as she buried her head between her knees.
Her cries echoed throughout the backroom, noise trapped within the walls.
"I just wanted to avenge my husband…"
Her fingers curled as they clawed into her skin.
~ ~ ~
Lyssa sat down inside the inn, repairing her silk arm. Her face was devoid of emotion.
She replayed the conversation that had happened in the backroom.
"I'm a puppet. And that's fine," thought Lyssa.
The beasts that had destroyed and overrun District Six nearly killed her as a child. Kyri was her savior. She would do anything to help and protect Kyri.
Her silk tightened, a smile running down her face as she imagined Kyri.
She reached out, grabbed a glass of red wine, and slowly sipped it.
A light buzz helped her gather her thoughts. The rich, aromatic wine helped her feel emotions she thought she had lost during her childhood.
The bartender set down another bottle of wine, her second one today. She couldn't stop her emotions. The ecstasy the wine gave her was invigorating.
She took a slow sip of the heavenly wine and sighed contentedly. "Ahh."
~ ~ ~
Axel and Loxus strolled through the city, each holding a bouquet. Their eyes drooped down, marks flowed down their cheeks, like teardrop remnants.
They stood before a fenced-off gravesite, then made their way through.
Walls plastered in names, flowers next to some. A floor of graves covered the area.
They continued past before stopping beside a stone grave. They stared down, offering silent prayers. Tears dropped onto the grave before Axel spoke up.
"Father…Mother…We couldn't avenge you today…" Axel dropped to his knees, placing the flowers down. "We miss you guys…so much…"
Loxus stood next to Axel, hand covering his eyes as tears streamed down.
~ ~ ~
Kael hummed a quiet melody, sitting by a fountain. He had always been disliked by the Marked. It was always odd to him. His father had fought for the rights of Marked on the surface, yet when they were pushed down to the Underworld, they became punching bags.
Kael was never strong, but he inherited his dad's intelligence. He found a passion for tools and tinkering. Music from his mother.
The Marked were amazing, like no other. The way they created a civilization under the surface was impressive. If only he had been older, maybe he could've helped create it. If that was the case, maybe the Marked would've liked his family.
Yet, they were killed by the beasts in the Underworld. Kael didn't blame the Marked. Instead, he blamed the people on the surface. They were the monsters. Pushing down thousands of Marked because of their fear.
It was irrational.
He couldn't change the outcome or their situations.
If the surface wouldn't listen, he would force them.
Kael shook his head. His father wouldn't want that. He wanted the people to come together to create peace.
~ ~ ~
Baron secluded himself inside his room. The darkness of the room helped him to gather his thoughts.
The Strike Team was something he had led for months. They were nothing more than a bunch of fighters gathered up to do a job. Exterminate some beasts, avenge the dead…and protect others just like he once was.
Baron scratched his head. "I don't know how much longer the Strike Team can last…" He let out a sigh.
An endless number of scars traced his back. They no longer held any pain. Rather, they were a reminder.
He could no longer run away in fear. Running meant death.
Fear caused deaths.
He caused deaths.
~ ~ ~
Roako's body twisted and turned throughout the night.
Scars that ran deep through his mind surfaced.
The cold smell of rusty iron, blood painting every surface. Orphans dropping to the floor, one by one. Some he called his friends.
Friends turned to enemies. Allies to foes.
The orphanage engraved it into his mind.
Roako jolted up, his heart pounding, and sweat dripped down his face. He frantically looked around the room before flexing his fingers, steadying his breath.
He stood up, peering through the window. The bustling city never seemed to die. Day and night intertwined, with no sun or moon to properly tell time.
His hand covered his eyes, wiping them as he stood up.
The floor creaking with each step, like it was telling him to stay.
He shook his head. He couldn't continue to run away from his problems.
Roako opened the door, bright light invading his eyes, as he quickly covered them. The noises of the inn continued pouring out. He shut them down, his thoughts drowning it all out.
He stepped forward, heading down, in an attempt to find Lyssa.
Roako looked around the inn, spotting Lyssa, face flushed with a glass of wine in hand.
Roako approached her, several questions in mind. He sat down across from her, noticing that her eyes never looked toward his.
Her eyes squinted, staring intently at her wine before taking a sip.
Her eyes locked onto Roako's, setting down her wine. She quickly blinked, rubbing her eyes.
"Need something?" Her voice shaky as she traced the rim of her glass.
Roako raised a brow, "Yeah. I wanna know why you let Kyri control you."
She froze before letting out a deep sigh. She twirled her fingers, creating a web of silk. Her mouth was covered by a metal mask. It shined brightly, allowing Roako to see his own reflection. Her jade eyes were complemented by her orange hair. She picked up her glass, giving it another sip.
"Kyri…lets me live. I know I'm a tool, but better be a tool than to end up dead." Lyssa stared at Roako before pointing her glass at him. "You'll be next."
Roako let out a subtle chuckle. "Hah. No, I won't. But I also won't be a soulless vessel."
"You don't understand. Kyri doesn't just break people. She reshapes them." Lyssa held her forehead before shaking her head, her hands trembling.
"Then I'd rather break than let her mold me." Roako stood up and turned toward the door. "Didn't mean to waste your limited time, Puppet."
Lyssa continued to sip her wine, staring down at the table. Her silk arm tightened unconsciously.
The innkeeper waved at Roako, urging him to come.
Roako tilted his head before shifting toward him.
"Is there something the matter?" asked Roako.
The innkeeper pointed toward the backroom. "Baron requests you."
Roako nodded before heading toward the room, swinging the doors open. Roako glanced around. Besides Lyssa, the Strike Team had all been seated.
Mo sat in a corner, her face covered by her knees as she wrapped herself up. Axel and Loxus sat next to each other, marks running down from their eyes. Kael covered his face with his hands as he sat in silence.
He stepped forward, the door locking in place as it closed. He grabbed a chair and sat down. Roako looked toward Baron, expecting something.
Baron looked around, glancing at everyone before locking eyes with Roako. "I understand that everyone has gripes with the current situation. I do myself." Baron closed his eyes, letting out a groan. His hands wiping across his face. "Ugh. I am cutting the ties of the Strike Team and Kyri. It could be dangerous to sever ties with a Guardian, so I understand if you no longer want to join me."
Silence clouded the room. Everyone looked around, no one looked confident, yet no one had left.
It was a hard choice. Roako didn't want to leave the Strike Team, and Kyri wasn't an opponent he could face yet. The others must've had a similar thought. Lyssa was the sole exception, since she was Kyri's dog.
Roako shook his head, refusing to think about Lyssa any longer.
"I've got some information about the sabertooths," said Baron, as he looked toward the twins before glancing around. "I had Kael look around. It seems like they're preparing to invade District Three. Kyri's District."
A few gasps left the team.
If they had time to prepare, how many more sabertooths would come? What about the beavers, did Lyssa's silk finally break?
Roako had so many questions, but the answers never mattered.
Roako clenched his fists, his gauntlets tightening. These weren't made to protect him. They were made to test him.
This would just be another test to see if he was ready.
This time, the sabertooths won't just end up frozen. They'll end up shattered.