Warnings: See first chapter
Disclaimers: See first chapter
When past is sticky
How annoying. Why the hell didn't they just give up and leave him alone? Instead, they just yelled. They had done that for... It felt like hours, but in this darkness with nothing to tell them the time, he couldn't be sure. "KAAAI! Answer me, NOW!" He continued to refuse, not even a single word. It would break his stand to Boris. After waking up again from the anaesthetic, he had refused to talk or eat. It was a stubborn and painful decision, but he was not going to let them get control over him.
The painful part, of course, wasn't not to talk. He had lived by ignoring people the biggest part of his life out of the abbey. No, the painful thing was the hunger. He was starving so badly that his guts felt like the was going to twist their way out of here. He knew it was very long ago that he had eaten, and he knew he might die, but... "KAAI!" ... some people were worth dying from. Boris was one of them. His grandfather another.
"Kai, what the hell did that creep do to you?!" Just leave me alone for once.
"He won't tell you, or he would have already..." A clever one, are we, blondie?
"Don't say that! Kai, answer me! KAAAAI!" As stubborn as ever.
The food sat on his table, a chair in front of it, and the bed in the corner. He had woken up on it, finding it very hard and uneven, but nothing he was unable to handle. The toilet was in the other corner that didn't edge up to the ironbars, but unlike what he had seen the others had, he had a curtain to get himself some privacy. Nice of them, sad he wouldn't live to use it. "KAI!"
Kai himself stood leaning against the wall beside the bed. Honestly, he couldn't remember last time he had actually done this bad habit. Now, he was absolutely aware of it, probably only because he tried to forget the hunger. Thinking about other things had always been the best way to get away from the pain. So Kai concentrated solely on the way he stood and the irritation he felt for... "Kai!" ... his stubborn neighbour. Sure, he might be kinda, so-so, kinda, yeah... happy that someone thought he meant so much that they would waste how much time to get an answer. "KAI!" In the end, it might not be so... "KAI!" ... surprising, but it still meant a lot. A lot more than the irritation he felt right now.
"KAI!" Finally, the slatehaired opened his lavender eyes, staring the bluenette down with a glare of stones. "Kai..." Tyson stood breathless as his brown eyes met the violet, and the eyes widened. Then, once again their gazes split as the violets closed again, leaving the midnight haired speechless. For a moment, the slate regretted his doings, but then, the hunger shot through him again, making him forget anything else for the moment.
Of course, he didn't let it show. It was under him to let himself fall into the weakness of pity and self-pity. He wouldn't let anyone see his pain, nor would he let them stop his demonstration towards Boris. They would never understand, and he hadn't the words to try to make them understand, so they had to get used to not understand. They had to learn the hard way that he wouldn't talk to anyone. He would find a way to get out of here, and then he would take them and all the others he could find and get them out from this place. Then, he did not know what to do. If they could, then, sure, they would stop Boris and his grandfather. But he wasn't going to decide for anyone. The more they got out, the bigger was the chance of them actually succeeding in stopping the two freaks.
But he had to be alive to do that. The problem was just the reason he made this demonstration. She was in Boris' hands right now... His b- "Kai?" This time, it wasn't the midnight haired talking, and Kai forced his eyes open once again. In the cell to Tyson's left, Max stood, his eyes wide with fright and confusion. Again, the slate's eyes closed, but Max at least knew he was listening. "Kai, whatever happened with Boris, it's okay," the blond reassured. Snorting, Kai shifted weight. Everything was a lot worse than the blond could imagine. "We just have to stand together. We are in this together, okay? You can trust us." You have always been too naïve, blondie. Not all things are forgivable, and what he had done for her to be in the creeps hands was bad. "Talk to us, please. Let us know."
Sorry, kid, can't do it. Kai didn't react. He could hear the blond begin to walk in his cell, back and forth, and it was first then the violet-eyed understood how much his actions scared the younger one. If something could make him react like this, do something that they hadn't seen so obvious since the first few months of their friendship, bad things were happening. Or, that must have been what they thought.
"As you said, he's not going to answer," Tyson said, and from the sound in his voice, he was clearly angered at the silent wall that was placed in front of him right now. "He's too selfish to tell us." Sad that Kai wasn't about to get angry at the bluenette, though the words still hurt. But decision's decision, he wouldn't talk. To anyone. Boris probably had some microphones in here too, and cameras, though they were well hidden. He watched everything that was going on, listened to Kai's' two friends talking, heard the hurt in their voices when they feared to have lost their team mate to the enemy. And saw Kai's uneaten plate.
As it was impossible for them to follow the time of the day, Kai did not know how many minutes – or maybe hours – that had passed before he heard two pairs of footsteps. He was not supposed to die, so they couldn't let him go on like this. But it was better for them if he began eating instead of them, having to force him with something. They wanted him, and wanted him badly, or they would have let him wake up in the darkness of the cells like every other. Instead, Boris had contacted him and talked to him, telling him that they wanted him as a leader. He was not going to.
He heard his teammates gasp, but his eyes were shut and closed.
"Kai."
At least it's someone else than Tyson this time.
"Kai!"
Shut up, creep. I'm not listening.
"Kai, I'm talking to you!"
Ooooh, I didn't know that, thought someone else in this dark shithole with three people had that name!
The violets refused to bloom, and Boris had the feeling of talking to the bed by the teen's side. He stamped the floors with his feet and waited, but not even time could get the eyes to open. "We'll hurt her if you don't react." Finally, with a gleam of red, the violet met the red eyes of Boris. But the violets didn't bloom beautifully, and only the hate of his halfdead heart and the insanity that only beybattle normally formed was in the eyes. He did not look at the man by Boris' side, didn't even care about that shit. Whoever it was, it wasn't important. "That's good. Now, eat, please." Eat? Eat? That was the same as cooperating, giving in.
Kai let the head drop down again and closed his eyes, ignoring the purple haired once again. "Kai, I thought I had taught you better manners." The whole body of Kai's twitched the moment he heard that voice, but he did not react, though he knew that he man had seen his weakness, even that short moment of weakness, the moment he himself had felt it. You yourself do not have manner, you... You... Words could not describe it. But Kai didn't react. "We have my son, too. In prison. He might get hurt if you don't do what we say." I thought that idiot was dead... Oh well, if you are crazy enough to kill your own son, then it's your decision. I don't care about that disappointing bastard. "Just go over there and eat. Stop doing this to me and to yourself. Make me proud, my boy." A moment, he was so close to give in. Though his memories were still clouded, he knew those words from this man once had had powers over him, had been able to make him do everything.
He knew this because of his own reaction more than the memories of himself being 13 and doing the orders of this man, cause then, the man had never said anything like that. Make me proud, my boy. It echoed in his head, jumping from wall to wall, corner to every lousy corner of his mind. He wanted to make him proud, to actually do the orders, whatever it was. A moment, his sense struggled hard with his old self-taught instincts, his whole body tensing as he wanted to fulfil the orders and spare himself for the pain for the hunger. But he wouldn't do it. He was stronger than the younger Kai, that had looked up to this man and seen him as the ruler of the world. That time, this man had ruled his own, little child world. Now, this dream had come true for the man, but there was one thing Kai made sure that maniac didn't rule. The mind of his own, sixteen-year-old grandson.
"Disappointing, Kai. Very disappointing," the man said when he realized silence would be his only answer. Those words were even sharper knives, tormenting Kai's stomach and heart. But he had decided! "You know she might get hurt, and yet you turn your back to her. Is that what such a mighty, poor thing gets for being so loyal to you all your life?" The fire of a phoenix answered the words as Kai finally opened his violet eyes to stare Voltaire down. Their eyes met, them both feeling the strength and anger the 'Hiwataris' had. As none of them refused to look away from the death glares, Voltaire began smirking. The years out of his hands hadn't destroyed what made Kai the best Hiwatari in later history.
"It's you who are hurting her, not me," Kai answered, growled, whatever he did. That was all he was going to say, cause already this left him out as the weaker Hiwatari. He had lost by slacking on a principle he had decided he would follow. How he hated this man in front of him, the man that until in sight he called grandfather.
"I don't have to if you cooperate. So, just talk to me." Silence. "Come on, Kai." Silence. "You know what happens. Just talk." Silence. The violets continued to burn into the doublehaired, old mans' skull. The slight insanity hadn't left them, the flowers bloomed with hatred and anger, despair and love for her. Cause love her, that he did. But they wouldn't kill her, wouldn't do it, knowing that if they did, they had nothing to force him to do anything. "She might get hurt pretty badly. And she has always been so loyal to you, even in the hardest times... Where you lost her, again and again." The teens' jaw began to work and the look got more intense as the old man began to mock him. But no words were spoken, and no eyes disconnected. Instead, their glares got so strongly connected that sparks nearly flew out from their eyes. Sighing, Voltaire looked away. Kai was the winner. For now.
"If you eat, nothing happens to her at all. But your father will..." Kai spat on the floor, and their eyes connected again. Voltaire understood, and it amused him. The doublehaired sixty-year-old man smirked as he watched his also doublehaired grandson show him how split up he had managed to get their family. He folded his arms as he watched the kid in front of him, his red eyes flaming with the sweet feeling of victory. "But my son will be whipped for every day you keep your mouth shut. Then you decide how well we treat him, boy."
Just to show them that he did not follow their orders, Kai waited a long time before he acted. Then, just as Boris was on his way to speak again, Kai pushed his back away from the wall, took the chair and skidded it in to the front of the table with his now cold food. She was not going to suffer because of his insolence. Walking over, he sat down on the chair and watched the two men.
'Leave' was printed in his look, and both of them smirked. They saw it as a victory, but this was as far as he would go for them. They could whip his so-called father all they wanted, it wouldn't make a difference to him. The difference laid in her, and she wouldn't die. She might get hurt, if they really were able to hurt her, but they couldn't kill her. The two men turned as he continued to stare at them, and as they stopped being a threat, he eyed his food with caution. The others had gotten some kind of porridge as far as he had seen. But he stared at a nice soup with lamp and vegetables.
It gave him nausea. Even more nausea than the hunger had given him now. They treated him special, probably in an attempt to get him to their side. The dark side, as they had called it so nicely in those movies. He was never, ever, going to. Never.
"Oh, and Kai," Boris' voice said, far too close to him. Kai didn't respond, simply stared at his ugly soup. Special treatment his ass. Should he throw the soup at Boris? No, next time, when he wasn't seriously dying of hunger. Boris waited until he realized that a respond was only a dream he could have. "I have a gift for you. Two, actually, one from Voltaire and one from myself. I'll just leave them here. Oh, and when you are done eating, there is something we are going to do together. Tyson, Max, you too!"
Something hard dropped to the floor, but Kai did not react to it. He heard the two others react, gasp, but did not turn himself. Instead, he slowly ate the first spoonful soup, and as irritating and wrong as it was, it tasted good. It was spiced with different things, but Kai was not a good cook. He knew when food tasted good or bad, but why they had the taste they had, he didn't care about. Instead of concentrating on food, music, animals and drawing were his strengths and love.
"Kai, what is that?" What is what? Kai turned, looked at Tyson, who stared at something on the floor. Not surprising, Dranzer and his blade missed, but he knew that already when he had woken up. On the floor, Boris had left a black blade and a piece of paper. Slowly finishing his soup while he watched the two things carefully, he let the bowl drop on the table and rose from the chair. Walking over with quiet steps, he got down on his knees and took the beyblade up. Not to his surprise, Black Dranzer stared out at him from the image on the bit. It was as beautiful as always, and he could feel that tempting power. Power.
For a moment, he understood his grandfathers' obsession. For a moment, he knew why the thing about ruling the world was so appealing... Maybe he could do that too once. Be in power... Rule the world... Finally get acknowledge for what he was... The superior of them all... The leader... The one in the kingdom of souls that lead-
"Kai, what is it?"
He did not remember closing his eyes, but it must have happened. Coming back to reality he dropped the genderless excuse of a bitbeast to the floor again and turned to the paper, Tyson and Max knowing what the blade was. It was obvious, and it was stupid. And scary, of course, though they only knew a small bit of the powers that thing contained. No one else than he, the youngest Hiwatari and the best of them all, could use this power. But control it... If it still was able to seduce him into those thoughts, he wasn't able to control it either.
Turning the paper, Kai found out it wasn't just a paper at all. The eyes dilated as he dropped that, too, but this time it was without his intention. They were toying with him, that was the only explanation. Why else would they give him a photo like... that one? Tyson repeated his question. What was it? Kai looked up again, something unknown twisting the secure look he always had into an inferno of feelings. Meeting the brown eyes, Tyson understood something was very wrong. Why he did it, Kai didn't know, but he let the photo slide over to the cell of Tysons'. As the midnight took it up again, his eyes dilated even further as he took it up.
"What is it?" Max asked, and his head popped out beside Tysons' cell. Tyson got closer to the blond and the two blue pools dilated too. The people in the photos weren't mistakable. "That's your grandfather and Boris," he stated, talking about the two people in the corners, both of them smiling innocently and staring at the camera. They seemed about... ten years younger. The man beside Voltaire... The similarity between those two, and the similarity between that guy and Kai left no doubt about who that was. Though he smiled too, his eyes weren't on the camera, but on their way to his own father. Though Kai was unable to realize this, Max and Tyson immediately recognized insecurity, discomfort and hurt in the mans' eyes.
"Who's she?" Tyson asked. Kai had placed himself with his back against the wall again, and eyes closed. He didn't look up when he asked, not interested in which 'she' they talked about. "The woman in the dress? Is she..." He hesitated, afraid to turn the teen against him. But Kai nodded, knowing the last part of his question. Yes, the violet-eyed woman who eyed Boris admiring, not that he was able to see this part, was his mother. He had forgotten how she looked, but he didn't doubt this. She was his mom. Of course, they didn't have to ask who the boy was in the middle. His back turned at the camera, Kai was still recognizable. The little four-year-old held his mothers hand and tucked his fathers shirt, trying to get the attention of both his parents. In the picture, he was the only link between them in the picture, as they were standing so far apart they could for a couple without looking too weird. "What about the little kid? In her arms?"
But they had to ask about her. That little beauty, clenching her mothers dress as she hid her head in the neck of her heroine. But none of the parents concentrated on their kids, not giving the little girl the attention that she deserved and that the boy-Kai claimed. The two-year-old kid had her father's crimson eyes, and the front of her semi-long hair was as dark-blue as the back of her big brothers, the bangs that framed her face. The back, on the other hand, was a light lavender, as her mom. The face was serene, the shining beauty of the sun that none of her parents, nor her brother. But the serene traits didn't stop her eyes from being confused, insecure, as she had understood far more of the family's problems than her big brother.
Of course they had to ask about her.
She was the perfection of his life's failure.
He had failed her. Not only once, but more times.
"Is she your littlesis?" He didn't nod this time. She, more than his traitorous father or weak mother, was the reason for his internal struggle, as she was the one he really, truly loved. But they shouldn't know, they shouldn't know just how weak he actually was. His angel, little Asachi. He forced himself to nod, and though it came to slow for him to look like a normal act, it was covering up the weakness. "Where is she now? In this building? Is it her you are..?"
Before Kai's heart could break from the pressure of their questions, an old, rusty door opened slowly, noising loudly. Slowly, the slate opened his eyes again, the sight of two guards with guns and in heavy armor telling them that it was time for them to show cooperation. What the hell Boris had decided to make them do...
How long had it been since the others woke up? It seemed long, as they were talking pretty loud and fast. Wonder what had woken them, since he had continued sleeping? But it was a stupid mystery, as it didn't matter. The only thing he should concentrate on was his captain and how the hell they got out of here. They should have the others with them, but that only complicated it all. And why the hell was he thinking this when he hadn't even gotten breakfast?
The emeralds emerged as the grey-haired let himself wake up fully, and he rolled out of the bed, clumsily and tiredly. He could have done better, but it wasn't about doing better, but simply making him look human for the people all around him. That was also the reason why he mimicked the expression of the most in a room. If there was five people in a row and three of them smiled, that was the expression he showed. Smile. Unless he was with his team mates.
Now, neither team or many people was there, so he had to come up with something himself. He had seen many people be groggy when waking up, a habit he did not follow, but that didn't make him unable to mimic the movements. That was his way to move and survive in cities on his own. Looking at the table, he did not see anything else than the porridge they had gotten yesterday evening (or what the hell the clock had been), so he couldn't determine what time it was. Fuck that. It didn't matter, as long as he got food and sleep.
He dragged himself to the table, an act as much as him rolling the bed. Sitting down, he began eating, making a face of disgust as he assumed he wouldn't like the taste if he had cared about that. He looked at the empty cell in his front. The kid hadn't found a replacement, but it was probably just a matter of time. If Boris had anymore to put in here. Most people had to be dead, even though there was people from all over the world. They had probably filled every cell there was in this place.
After Tala had finally calmed down yesterday, they had tried to reach him to fulfil their duty and... well, clean up the mess they had made. But as soon anyone had neared the dead body, Tala had showed a lot of creativity in trying to find a new projectile he could throw at them. Bryan did not know how much bed, sink or table he had left, but that had to end too. In the end, Tala had simply sat down and waited for them to come and take him to wherever they wanted to whip him and take the body of the kid away too. When they had come, he had followed them without struggling, knowing it wouldn't matter. Bryan didn't see it as a sign of defeat in the redhead to let them take him, but more as he had demonstrated to them that he was not going to be easy to have to do with to first let them take him then. It meant a harder punishment, but it was worth it in the end.
Though it was hard to see what it was worth when he had come back. The white clothes soaked in the blood from his back where he had been whipped, and they had gagged him as Boris had said. But the blindfold, that might have been their own idea, and binding his hands on the back wasn't part of the plan Bryan had known, either. Tala had been nearly unable to stand because of the pain of his body and the dizziness of the blood loss, so the two guards had been forced to drag him to his cell instead of having him to walk. Bryan just hoped they hadn't broken the other teen.
The bowl dropped to the table again as he was done eating. He kicked out the chair, walked over to the bars and watched out. As the green eyes flowed over the cells on the other side of the hall, he stopped at the Italian's cell. Instead of a dead or half-dead blondie, a pale, yeah, sure, but totally awake and fresh teen stared at him from the cell. Bryan searched the cell for answer, and found them. Two bowls sat on the table, though Bryan knew the kid hadn't gotten any food yesterday.
"Where...?" The blond blinked when he was dragged out of the thoughts, then smiled and nodded towards the cell in front of him. So it was Brooklyn? That weirdo had decided to use some of his food on Enrique? He had the right attitude, then, as they would not succeed surviving if they didn't stay together. Bryan turned his head, but neither the citrinehaired or the redhead was there. Not surprising for the redhead, but the Brooklyn could have reacted when they talked about him. Bryan sighed, him beginning to be quite anxious about the captain. This was an absolute unknown emotion, but he knew why he felt like that. He turned to watch Hilary instead, hoping she would help.
"Hilary?"
The girl had until then sat hidden in the darkness of her cell. He watched her as she got over to the bars and folded her hands around the iron, looking at him with light disgust. "Yes, what is it, Bryan?" In the brunettes head, his name was Heartless Freak more than 'Bryan', but it wouldn't be nice to say aloud. Getting her bangs out of her eyes, she didn't look at him to see that anxiousness folding out in full on his face. When she finally looked at him again, the only thing staring at her was a face of nothing, until he mimicked a smile.
"I'm just wondering... How's Tala?" the emotionless teen said, hoping to get an answer he could use. Something about her seemed hostile, but he didn't know whether he should care or not. He saw her eyes drift over to the redhead's cell and stop there, her lips trembling as she watched the redhead. That meant bad, but he had used up all his anxiousness when it had flamed just moments ago.
"He's laying on the bed... I don't know if his awake, or if he can hear us, but he's breathing." That wasn't so bad, though it would have been better if he had been struggling to get the hands free. "He's bound as he was when they put him there. I think... He seems to have stopped bleeding. I don't think he's... feeling very good." The trembling of her lips got worse as she finally looked away, back to the emeralds. "That's about it."
The smile was still on his face, this time showing concern he didn't feel. It was his first time showing the feelings he would have felt without help from others. "Thank you, Hilary. Thank you a lot. I owe you one for this." She stared at him a long time after that, but he didn't look at her. Instead, his eyes settled on the cell two to his left, waiting and hoping that time would help his friend to come out and guide him again, help his friend to live. "Please, tell me if he begins to move." He closed his eyes and breathed deep, finding his anxiousness again as he dug down to find his happiness when he was with the redhead. The good feelings only his team could give him. "Come back to life, my friend," he whispered in Russian, and though the words were quiet and unintelligible, it reached out to the nearest cells, they twisted in and out in the maze of hundreds of other words that was said around them, until they finally found their target.
"What did you-" Hillary began, but then, her eyes widened, and something more important came to mind. "He moves! Bryan, Tala moves!" Bryan head snapped up again, staring towards the redhead's cell once again. Then he looked over at Hilary, and she understood. "He's trying to get his arms free," she said. "No, look out, the bed is not that... Broad." A loud thud was heard as Tala fell down to the floor.
"Tala, if you come over here, I'll help you with the bounds," Brooklyn said, saying something for the first time that day. The orange hair looked even wilder than it did the day before as the citrine-haired got over to the bars, closest to the bars.
"How is he supposed to find you when he can't see a thing?" Enrique interfered. It sounded more as a friendly guiding-question than a hostile attack, as he owed his life to the aqua-eyed lazy body. "He can't even move right."
"Wstrop wralkin wrabot we washif wy wrasn't where!" something growled, it being totally impossible to understand. So, well, it was obviously Tala.
"Just follow my voice, Tala, I can try to help," Brooklyn said, like the others not understanding a word of what they had said.
It must have been very funny to look at the wolf, crawling like a worm towards Brooklyn, but it was no time for laughter. The others around them still talked about missing friends, the strongest trying to comfort the weakest, but all that could see either Tala or Enrique were silent. With a last struggling breath, the redhead got over to the bars in the corner closest to the apatite eyed, his sore back against the cold iron and his tied hands out towards his rescuer. Brooklyn tried to reach out.
"I can't reach it. I'm sorry," Brooklyn panted, as he continued to try. Inches. So few inches, and yet he couldn't touch the bind. Tala pulled himself closer, and though it hurt him and he obviously groaned in pain, Brooklyn grabbed his hands and began to work with the bind. "Wait one more minute," Brooklyn purred reassuring as Tala once again groan in pain. "Another moment... There."
Tala pulled away from the bars, still blind and unable to speak. His hands searching, he tried to find a way to get it off. After some time, it worked, and he let himself drop down on the floor with closed eyes, him being totally worn out. This, Bryan couldn't see, so he waited, plastered to the bars to make sure the captain was more or less well.
"Tala? Are you there?" He didn't get an answer? Should he be scared? It felt like he was scared, didn't it? He was confused, but kept calm. He was always calm and collected. "Are you there, Tala?" he instead asked in Russian. It was louder said than he wanted it to be, but it meant nothing. Hopefully, Tala heard him and answered.
"Stop talking so loud, Bryan!" came a Russian answer. The green-eyed sighed when he heard that be said. Was he happy? He thought, he was happy. Maybe he wasn't... It was wrong if he was, though it was still right. And he was once again confused, until the redhead let his head come out from the cell. Though he had a pained look, and the eyes were glassy and slightly unfocused, it was surely happiness that person gave him.
"I'm sorry. How do you feel/how's your health, Tala?" Bryan continued in Russian, ignoring the people around them. They looked at the two Russians, unable to understand a word, though the words Tala and Bryan was recognizable.
"I feel better than I did before," the redhead answered, the others possibly feeling that the two left them out on purpose. The beautiful, blue eyes searched the other faces, and though he recognized them all, his eyes flooded with wonder and question. He was clearly very sick.
"Then I won't worry about it."
"You should."
"Why?"
"I'm sure I have a fever. I feel very light headed..." As long as he himself could see he was sick, it might not be that bad.
"This doesn't sound good," the green-eyed said, Hilary finally getting annoyed enough to growl at them. "The others want us to speak English…" But the redhead slowly shook his head.
"No... English makes no sense... I cannot understand it right now..." The redhead took his head down, supporting it with his hand. He looked like he was about to throw up, his face pale-green and his lips shut tight.
"Damn," the grey haired sighed, calculating how best to get out of this situation. "You were right, you are very sick." He looked up at the others. "Sorry. Tala has a fever, he's not very well. Is there anyone who know anything about wounds? He might have gotten an infection... It would explain the fever." They had to stay together, he had gotten that far in his head, and the others that was near seemed to think the same. But... no one knew anything about wounds.
If they didn't do something, then Tala might... An infected wound was not good. And they knew that they had to bandage it and clean it, but when they were in each different cell, when they had nothing to bandage nor clean, what should they do? What could they do? He might really... "He's gonna survive," Brooklyn suddenly said, him too have been lost in those thoughts. How he could know was a mystery, but the words were said so surely that the others didn't doubt it. Maybe it wasn't as bad as they feared...
Brooklyn smiled to them, and right then, footsteps were heard. "Right on time..." The words reached Bryans ears, and he glared the citrine-haired down, as he suddenly knew bad things was about to come. But Brooklyn's attention was directed the other way, as they heard Boris yell:
"Everyone, wake up and get going!"
Brooklyn continued to stare towards the purple-haired man with excitement as the emerald-eyed dug in to his cell to find whatever he had to throw at that weirdo. "Boris," the calm teen said in a bored voice. It wasn't the voice he had when he talked to the people around him, but it didn't matter much. Their torturer stopped dead, only just in sight for the apatite-eyed boy. "Take Tala with you." The man began walking again, letting the guards find out to unlock the cells themselves. To make sure no one got funny ideas, they all had guns and rifles with them.
"To where."
"To whatever comes to your mind."
"And why should I do that."
"Because you don't want him to die." Bryan stopped dead just as he was about to aim for the citrine with his spoon. Was that the price for Tala to survive? Get him in enemy's care? How could Brooklyn be sure about this? Was he playing jeopardy with the captain's life? If the other one was playing, should he do something about it? Stop it? Was that weirdo even trustworthy?
There were no answers, and the calculating genius just sat, staring at the back of the apatite-eyed's head. Boris, on the other hand, didn't doubt the prodigy for a second. "Eduard, come here." A guard walked over, his shoulders nearly as broad as half of the hallway. "Take that boy to the hospital for care." It was now Bryan had to act if he would protect his captain. Just as he raised his hand to throw the bowl in the head of the guard called Eduard, Brooklyn turned his head. The glow in the aqua eyes was so strong, so intense, Bryan didn't believe it was a humans' eyes. It gave him, the nonfeeling, coldhearted, Russian soldier, shivers down the spine. It was the eyes of an ancient god, not a human. Not a sixteen-year-old kid.
It was him that had to break the connection of their eyes first. He heard Tala, as sick as he had become because of the wounds on his back, struggle to get out of the guard's grip, and fail in the attempt. The guard held the redhead tight as he walked past them, and Bryan looked up again, this time to follow his captain disappear for the second time in... it felt like less than 24 hours.
"Katyenka," Boris called as the guards had gotten most of the teens out in the hall. Another guard came over, but... to their all but the Russians' surprise, it was a female. Bryan had heard simply by hearing the name. "How many times did you whip the boy? Tala?" The woman looked him in the eyes as she answered.
"One hundred times, as ordered." She didn't blink, didn't flinch, as she looked in he cold eyes with her dark green wintereyes. A hundred times were many. Bryan had tried worse, four hundred sixty four times, but he had been the only one in the abbey. Tala could take much, but that answered his unspoken question about whether or not Tala had gotten weak. The fact that he was able to even stand showed that he was as tough as ever.
"Who ordered that? I ordered ten. Who the hell told you to whip him a hundred times?!" Boris had gotten all red again. He had to learn to control that temper of his. But, then again, he had always been like that. It had scared the shit out of them when they had been small kids in his hands, but now, it simply showed how vulnerable he was when he got angry. Screaming, threatening, that didn't help anyone.
"Eduard." Something was slightly off when the woman said that, but Bryan couldn't decide what it was. But if she was speaking the truth, then Tala might be in a lot of trouble, since the one defying orders to the worse for Tala was the one that held the wounded captain in custody. Boris also knew this, and since he hoped to use the captain later, he turned around at hurried in the direction the two had gone. Katyenka smirked, and Bryan understood what he had found off. The woman had lied when she blamed the man. She looked at them, and her green eyes got caring, like a mother watching her children. "Come with me. It's time to train."
When she and the other guards opened the doors to the cells, Bryan was about to run and try to get out. Then, he saw the guns closer, and knew that plan was idiotic. The guns and rifles was easy-handling and fast-loading. He had handled such a thing many times, and knew that the target could be hit seconds after you saw it moving. Shaking his head, he walked out the cell, trying to get a plan set together in his calculating mind. He had to get as many guns as possible, so they could get out with success. They had to be armed when they left, or they were doomed.
Bryan shot a warning look to all those that seemed ready to run, even those he did not know or hadn't contacted. Luckily, they all understood the warning in his eyes and followed, though the guards seemed uncertain about what they were supposed to do with the Italian. He should be death or near death, but instead, he stood beside Brooklyn and seemed as strong as ever. With Brooklyn's guidance, they decided to let him go with the others, and with an armed guard for each ten teens, they were driven through the hall like a flock of sheep. They got to a large room with beystadiums and fitness-machines all over. The got in to the room from an entrance called '3rd B', and had to go down some stairs to get to the bottom of the room.
"Everyone that has never beybladed before, step over to Table A!" a known voice called out over the crowd. It was Katyenka, seeming to be having a high rank in this dark hell of a building. The authority in her voice made them listen and do the orders. He saw Hilary and the blond girl beside Enrique move over to table A. "Everyone that can launch a blade, control the blade or have experience with beyblading without getting in a high national or any international competition, over to table B!" Bryan had found out that he was supposed to do, and he walked towards table C before she ordered everyone that could compete in blading on a quite high level. And that was exactly what she did. "Champions, high skilled bladers and so on go to the table C!"
It was first then Bryan discovered that there already was three people by the table C. Tyson and Max were close together, talking anxiously as they did not know what happened, and the one and only Kai stood at a wall with his back against it. That meant Rei was dead, or he would have been there. Sad, the emerald-eyed had always thought quite highly of the neko-jin member of the Bladebreakers since... a certain episode a few years ago. Including BIOVOLT, Boris and Voltaire, and a seriously injured Rei.
Sighing over this sad, unimportant fact, Bryan looked the others over, mimicking the expression of the most, though his expression was less scared. Boris didn't really scare him so much anymore, though his methods did. Looking from face to face, Bryan recognized everyone, except some of the Asian, American and other continents own competitors. European Championship, American Championship and other continental Championships competitors that couldn't make it all the way to the World Championship. No neko-jin were there, but Julia from F-Dynasty, Miguel and Mathilda from the cheating-group Bartez Battalion, and Eddie and Emily of the Americans was there. And from the BEGA, both Mystel, Garland and the annoying Ming-Ming stood present there, them all staring at Brooklyn as if he was a zombie rising up from the death.
"Hi, guys," the apatite-eyed said when he saw his old teammates, raising a hand as a greeting to them. A moth had found its place on that hand, showing that even in the most animal-less, dark places, animals preferred his company. Beside him, Enrique still stood. He needed the protection of the lazy body to be there, or else the guards might change their minds and decide him to be a problem they didn't want to be responsible for.
"I thought you stopped blading, Brooklyn," Garland said. "If you had begun again, we would happily had taken you back a-"
"Stand in line!" It was like a military order, which made Bryan react as he had learned. Finding a place in the line, he got in, stood with Julia on one side and Garland on another, the first one to stand straight. And the only one to do that, as his instincts told him that was how you stood when an order was given. He didn't like Garland, but he wasn't getting out of the line because of that. A man with a strict face, a full beard and a whip and a gun in the belt stood, staring them all down. All the people in the line looked at him, except for two, Kai standing with arms crossed and eyes closed, Bryan standing up straight and staring forward as he was trained to do. "Looks like we have a soldier between amateurs." The man walked over to Bryan. "Whats your name, kid?"
"Bryan Kuznetsov, sir!" he answered, the mind turned off as he relied on instincts. The man stood right in front of him, so they looked each other in the eyes. The man saw the scariest thing he'd ever seen, being able to detect the falseness in the expressions Bryan made. How Bryan fought to look like everyone else, and nearly succeeded, though he wasn't like anyone else. Probably in the world. A youngster with no feeling, that is.
"Where are you from, kid?"
"Russia, sir!"
"You are well-disciplined." That was an understatement. "How come you are?"
"It's a long story, sir!"
"Tell me."
"Me and Boris have history, sir!" Oh... This kid was an experiment, or something like that. Creepy, that Boris was able to destroy a human so entirely.
The bearded man walked back and began to march in front of the line of people. "My name is Maxim. I'm your instructor, понял? (understand) I train you, I guide you, I make you soldiers!" He stopped in front of Kai, who did not give him any attention. "Are you listening?" Kai still did not speak to anyone. He simply opened his violet eyes and looked into the brown ones of Maxim. "Oh, so you are the Hiwatari? That look in the eyes can be from no other. I'm not going to go easy on you because you are the leaders grandson, понял? Though you seem to be strong enough for my state of troops." He looked them all over again. Walked over and picked out some people, including Max, Tyson, Miguel, some of the lesser-ranked competitors and all the girls in the group. "You train to get a better physic."
"That's discriminating, to pick out all the girls! Some of us are fine!" Julia sneered, making Maxim smile.
"Yes, for being girls. But in my army, gender doesn't matter. And if everyone is going to get minimally up to the physic our young soldier have now, the girls need training. I'm not male chauvinist, I love women and have seen many surpass the male humans, but you have to keep up." He looked the left over once again, and walked over towards Brooklyn, who backed away, shaking his head.
"No. No, no, no. You can't make me do it. I am good as I am, I'm neither going to fight nor shoot anyone. I said yes to begin to blade again, not to be part of an army or train my body. I'm strong as I am, very strong, I'm not going to work for it! Not like that!" The citrine haired shook his head a little wilder and continued to back away, his sense and eyes flickering for a moment as the fear of having to work hard got the hidden, darker part of him to fight to break free. Of course, Brooklyn fought him off, but it was hard enough as that.
"Then show me if you are as good as you claim," the man ordering, seeing the flicker in those beautiful but not understanding, not knowing what destruction this light demon could bring. "For some reason, I do not believe you."
"I can't show you, I do not have a blade for the moment. But I have no need to train, I promise you!" The others, even Bryan, stared at him as his back finally hit the wall. Maxim had stopped walking towards him long ago, standing a few feet in front of everyone and watching the kid with question. "I'm not going to sit in a machine and train, you can't make me."
"Sir, I suggest you let him be," Garland said, him as much as most afraid of Brooklyn if he did freak out. The moth from before, though, decided to calm the white teen down, so it flew over and portrayed his shoulder with its black wings. He looked down and smiled, then up at the guard.
"I'm not going to train. I might battle some people, but I won't train. You can give me any blade and put me up to any opponent, and I'll prove to you that I need nothing." His voice was as before, calm, collected and sensitive, and he stroked the moth with a cautious finger, making sure not to hurt the night animal's beautiful features.
"Oh, so you're that guy? I've gotten a blade for you. Boris asked me to inform you, that it might actually give you a struggle. It's a hard metal blade, one of those Tyson and his team used to beat you at the tournament. It's said to be very hard to control."
Slowly, the apatite-eyed teen walked over and took the blade, feeling it heavier than the bigger one he had had before. He found Zeus in his pocket and took it in the blade, a weak smile crossing his face. "Are we going to begin?" An aura began to surround him, and as he got into the row of sportsfolk again, even Enrique moved slightly away. That Brooklyn was scary as shit.
"Yes. Katyenka, take that group over to the machines while I get these ones to begin." That green-eyed woman got over and guided the group towards the fitness machines. "I'll take over their training as soon as I'm done with these," Maxim promised, and Katyenka rolled her eyes and mumbled curses in Russian. She probably thought she already had her hands full, but she didn't complain, simply continued walking.
Maxim turned to them again. "Okay, we have the physically best bladers her ... And Brooklyn." Brooklyn didn't react, too caught in his new, heavy beyblade. "Now, you show me if you are the best at blading, too. The reason is, that scientists have made a new weapon, which is a lot like the heavy metal blades. All of you have to master the heavy metal systems, but first, you are going to get better bladers and prove to me that you are ready for the challenge the heavy metal system is. Someone has thought Brooklyn..." Maxim stopped talking as he looked at the prodigy, who had lost interest in the blade and had gone back to his moth. The difference was just that one moth had evolved into about ten, covering his body and giving him a dreaming smile on his face. Yeah, he still liked animals, even if it wasn't the ones he normally had contact with. "Well, that over there have been selected as good enough to be learning the heavy metal system. You will show me your skills, if you get exhausted, you will get into the fitnessgroup, if you show any physical weakness, you will get into the fitnessgroup, понял?"
"But if you are going to the others, sir, you can't watch us, sir!" Bryan argued, his mind already having two options that could be used. Cameras, or he had guards the he trusted to control them that reported to him. He would prefer cameras, as it was the most secure option, even though it would take a lot of time watching the tapes that might be time wasting.
"Many older men watch over you for me. If I think they have misjudged you, we have cameras everywhere, so I can watch you matches and judge you. Это понятно? I'm not into funny business, so if you want to waste your time, at least put on a show that show me you best and you worst if you want my guard to misjudge your talents." Maxim watched them all over as Bryan thought this man a genius. He knew no one was unmistakable, so he had found a way to compensate and a skill-level they at least should have by the looks of them. He would get busy the first day, cause he himself misjudge many skills because of sloppy or strict looks. Brooklyn he didn't think had skill at all because the apatite-eyed was not willing to train or work at all, while Bryan himself would be thought very highly of because of his soldier-attitude, even though he knew his skills were worse than most of the ones that had been on the teams in the championships. "Now, all of you, over to a beystadium!"
"Yes, sir!" Bryan said and began walking, or, marching towards the nearest stadium. He reached it and looked up to see one of the lesser, female sportsmen stand on the other side of the dish. If they fought, that kid would lose, and that normally meant that the kid would be taken away and never come back. I'm not gonna fight her. They both took their beyblades and made them ready. There were two guards per five people, and one of the guards was very close. I'm not gonna fight her. Someone yelled for them:
"Ready?! 3, 2, 1, GO!"
It sounded like hundreds of blades hit the dishes. But only one blade hit their dish. A aqua-blue blade, with no bitbeast. The girl looked at him with question, but he didn't look at her. Instead, he watched the guard. "I'm not gonna fight her," he said in an emotionless tone. He knew she would lose if he began to blade with her.
"Say what?!" the guard said, walking over towards them, his expression full of rage.
"I just told you, I'm not gonna fi-"
The sound of a whip silenced all the people in this part of the room. It snapped Bryans head down as he felt the warm, thick blood ran slowly down his cheek as pleasure jolted through his body, making it shake with suppressed enjoyment. A boy, about four years old and same height as Bryan with burning red hair, stood with a whip clenched in his hands as the hard, blue eyes looked the other boy over. Bryan stared at him with scared, green eyes, feeling Boris' heavy hand on his shoulder. "You do what I say, you little fuck!" the guard said as Bryan slowly lifted his head, blinking the image of the past away as the pleasure disappeared. His cheeks didn't even hurt. The guard was coming over to him, so he had a chance to take the gun.
"Wait!" Boris' voice got over to them, and few seconds after, Bryan felt the hands lay itself on his shoulder again. He lifted his head to look at nice-man Boris, the man that had taken him away from his parents. His father had said a lot of bad things about мама. His father said that mama had cheated him in court, and that mama wasn't supposed to have Bryan. That mama was a whore. Bryan had gotten scared and fled when his father had gotten violent, meeting with nice-man Boris.
"Tala," nice-man Boris said, making the redhead look up at him. "We have a new member. His name is Bryan." Bryan had said yes to be a member of their group. Nice-man Boris had told him that they would make the world a better place, and mama had a hard time right now. If he could change the world, he could help mama get away from his father, who had always hit her. She had decided she didn't like to be hit, so mama and Bryan had moved.
"Hello, Bryan." Bryan didn't like the look in the blue eyes, and he hid behind Boris' leg.
"We'll greet him welcome, won't we?" The redhead nodded, walked over and took of Bryans' shirt. Bryan tried to flee, but the redhead was stubborn. And fast. The redhead took a hard grip in his arm and pulled him over to a black metal plate. Chains hung down the side of the metal board, and Bryan looked at nice-man Boris with wide eyes. "Just sit up on it now, Bryan. It's alright." Bryan nodded and did as he was told, his chest and back bare. But when the chains fastened his ankles and wrists, Bryan didn't like it anymore.
"Boris," he said, tears coming in his eyes. "Boris, mama's waiting for me. Boris, can't I come back to mama now?"
"Mama is going to wait a loooong time," nice-man Boris answered, and looked over at Tala. Tala understood, and the whip hit the back of the boy with a smack. Bryan screamed, then sobbed. Boris came over to his head and knelt down, and Boris was no longer nice-man. "For every time you scream or cry or even so much as twitch, Tala adds two more hits to your original score of hits. You should have ten in all, now, it's twelve in all." Once again, Tala let the whip play the back. Bryan cried, the tears streaming down his face. "Fourteen in all."
"But, but it hurts."
"No it doesn't. You don't feel pain." Did not feel pain? But... But it hurt, didn't it? Boris rose and left the room. But Tala didn't stop, even though Bryan cried and sobbed so hard he feared his throat was going to burst. 3... 4... 5... He tried to calculate the equation mama had given him yesterday, y = ax2 + bx + c, how many parabolas he could make out the points of in his head, but the pain was to hard for him to handle. He couldn't think of anything else. He couldn't stop counting the hits. There was about seven seconds between every hit.
29... 30... 31... He tried stop crying or winching or twitching, he had asked the other kid for mercy, he had done everything he could do.
107... 108... 109... Bryan was exhausted. He couldn't handle anymore, he just cried for every hit, a little, hard sob every time the whip connected to his back. The other kid was exhausted too, but something made him keep going. The redhead was sweating and panting. Now, nearly eleven seconds between the hit.
172... 173... 174... Before, Bryan had tried to disconnect the pain, the feeling of his back. Now, he gave up, and the pain flared up to be all-mattering and all-controlling again, Bryan once again began to scream. He couldn't handle it, he was going crazy.
286... 287... About twenty seconds between the hits. Talas' hand felt like it was falling off, and Bryan had once again stopped screaming, though his back still hurt A LOT!
353... 354... 355... It didn't hurt anymore. It didn't hurt. He didn't know why, but the pain had stopped... Pleasure...? Was it pleasure he felt? ... 35 seconds between every hit. Tala was absolute exhausted, but persistent too.
416... 417... 418... Yes... It was pleasure... Like when mama stroke him when he was sad... And yet, not that pleasure... Even when Tala moved to the neck or the legs to find places that wasn't soaked in blood, places that was new to the whip, it was some weird pleasure that jolted through his body.
461... 462... 463... The 464th hit was made just as Boris came back in, and Boris was again nice-man. Nice-man Boris had helped him find the real good pleasure.
"You can stop now, Tala," Boris said, making Bryan sigh sadly and Tala look confused at him.
"But I still haven't done it all..."
"Can't you see the welcome has been taken. He's happy to be here."
"Okay, Boris, sir," Tala said. "May I take him to the hospital, sir?!" Boris nodded, and Tala walked over and took off the chains. Bryan got down on the floor, but he couldn't stand. Instead, he fell down on the floor, feeling more pleasure as his back hit the floor. Never should he feel pain again whenever he hit himself with the hammer or got slapped for being rude.
The little, green-eyed boy looked up at the Boris, who stared the guard down. "He can use a gun. Don't approach him with a gun on you, he'll take it!" Bryan looked down. Boris had a gun on him, too.
Gun...? Bryan blinked once and saw a scientist stand before him. Bryan was five, and never felt pain in pleasure. "Shoot the kittens," the scientist said. "It's an order, or you'll get punished. What do you feel when I say you'll get punished? Tell me the truth."
Bryan thought of it for a moment, his face plain from feeling. "I feel a little afraid," he said, the fear so small he didn't even think about it when he looked at the kittens.
"No you don't. The fear is an illusion, created in the weaker part in your mind. If you destroy that part, you'll get stronger than anyone." Bryan nodded. He had heard that a thousand times. "What do you feel about shooting the kittens?"
"Nothing." It neither scared him or filled him with awe, nor pleasure or happiness. It was nothing, and that was all. The scientist moved away, leaving his suspect with a light pistol in his hand. The other kids from the abbey were there, but they didn't matter to him. There was only the superior and the inferior, and he couldn't place them in one of those categories.
Beside him, an older, blond boy stood with the same assignment as him. Shoot the kittens. Seven kittens and their mother, placed in a big cage twenty meters away. The kittens were 10 weeks, nearly ready to leave the mother.
"But... I can't just shoot the kittens..." the older boy said, looking at the cats with tears in his eyes. Bryan just watched him, then the kittens.
"Yes you can."
"What?" The boy turned to him.
"Fear is an illusion. If I shoot five of the kittens and the mother, you shoot the last two, and it's done and over with."
"But it hurt them!"
"Hurt is an illusion." Bryan raised the gun, aimed the mother... He hated those cats. Hated him so much it filled his nearly darkness-induced inside with black flames. They was in the way of him doing his orders. Anyone who wanted to stop him doing his orders should ...BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG... BANG. He missed one of the kittens, but used one more shot to kill it. The others was dead, and the two left alive was scared and crying."What is your name, crybaby?" Bryan asked and reloaded the gun. "Take down the last two."
"Spencer, and don't call me a crybaby. I'm tough!" The bigger kid looked at the animals, tears still in his eyes. Then... he shot. It required five BANGs.
Bryan looked away from Boris' gun, knowing what he should. The guard was getting scolded by Boris, so the purple-haired wasn't concentrated. "You don't know what he can do with a gun! Tell everyone to look out for him and Tala, especially him! I've seen him having no doubts about shootin-"
Bryan knew what he talked about, but he concentrated, and... Succeeded. Bryan still just watched the guard and Boris, but he had gotten what he wanted. The memories forced into his mind weren't hard for him at all. Not even the one where Boris stood and watched him. "Is he processing?" he asked, empty, green eyes meeting with hateful crimson.
"Yes, he's a very successful experiment. There is none like him," the scientist said. "But if you take him, you have to remember that every time he claims the feel anything, you deny it. Tell him it's an illusion, or whatever you want. He believes the illusion very deeply."
"I'll keep it in mind." Boris took his hand around the seven-year-olds' arm and dragged him down the abbey, past the other kids that still didn't have a place in his hierarchy. Superior, inferior, which of those were they? Spencer hadn't talked to him in two years, Tala hadn't since the day of his arrival, and none of the others had ever found him interesting enough cause he preferred mathematics for beyblades and reading faces more than talking to them. He was alone here, so alone it had hurt the first couple of years, even after his personal scientists had made him begin blading. Now, he didn't feel that pain anymore, this eternal pain that ripped his heart. It was gone, as the last thing of the feelings he had had.
They walked down some stairs, down to the lowest cellar. Boris smiled at him. "I found something you might find interesting."
"I don't see anything as interesting. I just do your orders, sir."
"Of course, my boy, of course." They reached a cell. Inside it, he saw a woman. Her eyes were green, her hair was lavender, the face neither ugly nor beautiful. "Do you recognize her?"
Bryan nodded as the woman saw him, and a light was lit in her eyes. "Bryan! Oh, Bryan, I didn't know you were here, I've been so scared for you! Bryan, where have you been?!"
"What do you think of her?" Boris asked, and Bryan watched her as she continued to talk.
"I think I like her," he said, feeling something for the first time in a long time.
"No you don't. The fact is, that you, liking her, is an illusion."
"I know that," the boy asked, the woman having turned silent as she saw the lack of feeling in the kid.
"Bryan?" she asked, her happiness turning into fright.
"What will you do with her, then?" Bryan looked at her, then up at Boris. What would bring his superior most pleasure? His mind used a moment to calculate, then he took the gun out of his pocket. Boris backed away, afraid he might have gone too far with the kid. As did the woman, backing away.
Bryan turned to look at her instead of Boris while he readied the gun. "No, Bryan, no, drop the gun, guns are not toys, no, Bryan, drop it, drop the gun."
Boris began smirking as Bryan raised the gun, and Bryan looked at him shortly. He had had right, he'd chosen right. The superior was happy.
"Goodbye, mama."
"BRYAAAA-" BANG!
Boris turned from the guard, giving the order that Bryan should have a new opponent. "Kai, come here!" the man said as the guards got a grip on Bryans' arm. "And Bryan. You'll get your punishment for not listening later. I can't have a soldier that doesn't take orders." Bryan didn't care about punishment. He had a gun now.
Boris and Kai walked together. In the hall. "You left your blade in the your cell." Silence. "You should know better." Silence. "Stop being stubborn. I have it here for you, but that wasn't the reason why I took you away from them. Since I, and your grandfather, know that you will give in when time comes, so we decided you are going to sit as a leader, in my office, and keep control with everything." Silence, though Boris stuffed the black blade into Kai's hand. They might want him to get caught up in the leader-role and say yes to their offer. He would get a lot of information in the office, but as long as he was their top priority, they would keep an eye on him always, so he wouldn't be able to lead the escape. And for the same reason, he wouldn't be able to give his information to the others.
Kai didn't say a thing, but it wasn't a surprise. They just continued to walk, Boris always having a hand on the slates' shoulder, the slate having his violet eyes closed. He was pretty sure it pissed Boris off, but they had to learn to live with it. He would only give up when he decided, and it wasn't the time to give up now. It would take months, that he could promise them. Maybe even a year.
"Boris!" Kai knew that voice. I was the military-guy, Maxim, that was supposed to control them. He ran towards them, him being faster and lighter on the feet than his size indicated. Not even panting, he stopped in the hall, waiting for Boris to turn around. Which the purple-haired did, forcing Kai to follow him around with the hand on his shoulder getting tighter.
"What is it, Maxim? Can't you see I'm busy?" Boris asked, not showing any anger. He seemed either to respect this man or not be as angry as the slate had labeled him. Assuming the first, Kai decided not to cause to much trouble, as it might cause trouble for the ones he actually liked. Or not liked, as he thought about Bryan too, and he had never had a relationship with that guy, even though he remembered him from the abbey. Then, he had been an outsider, which had made Kai wonder how the hell the teen had gotten friends with Tala and the others. What he remembered had been Tala hating, Spencer fearing and Ian wishing to kill the green-eyed boy that the scientists had made their favorite. It might be the fact that they were able to see what it had cost the boy to be there. He was the one who had lost the most by getting into that abbey.
"I refuse to work with the soldier-kid. Bryan Kuznetsov. I work with humans, not robots, and that is what he is. He might breath and talk and feel pain, but feelings are what makes us humans, and what makes us humans is the reason we can be soldiers," Maxim said, looking Boris into the eyes.
"As a matter of fact, I've made sure that he doesn't feel pain either. Unlike the others, a boy who do not feel is a boy you don't have to teach how to kill, unlike the humans you normally work with. A boy that is trained to do every order he's told by his superior, no matter what it means to his team or his family, is the ultimate soldier. Right now, the one he sees as his superior doesn't like us, but that is something we are able to change soon. Tala is sick, and that means weak. We can manipulate him into liking us again, and Bryan, being unable to feel anything towards us, will follow his leader into our hands. You are going to help him get a good blader again, Maxim. That's all I ask of you. Bryan was never interested in blading, he only began because he was ordered. If you put the skills into him he had once, then I will give you a reward."
Maxim just stood, staring at Boris. He didn't seem to believe what he had just heard, but shook his head, trying to get a grip on himself again. "I'll just ask you never to make a creation like Kuznetsov again, then," he sighed. Then he looked at Kai. "Why are you taking my other soldier?"
"Cause he's going to be a leader, not an order-receiving underling that does not feel. The grandson of Voltaire is going to be our superior when Voltaire dies, so I have to take care of his upbringing." Kai rolled his eyes and Maxim saw this. The big soldier hid his smile behind his hand, knowing the will of steel burned in this body. That boy was adamant, and didn't have the beliefs his grandfather had.
"Good luck with that kid, then. I'll go back to my soldiers." Maxim was amused by the assignment Boris had given himself. He knew it was never going to work for the purple-haired.
Another chapter done!
Enjoy in joy!
