11

Days go by but the Mogadorians didn't enter his room. It was either they were not around or if they are, they stay outside, looking through the translucent drapery. Eight cannot escape. The Legacy he wanted so badly is in malfunction. Malfunction because he is afraid to think it is gone and could've been taken by Setrakus Ra.

He becomes agitated by their mysteriousness. It was not that their visitations that he cares of. It was how he survived. He is sure he was dead because the pink scar, the remnant, is present; a memory from Five's betrayal. His body is still numb and wobbly, like he is made of jelly. Particularly, Eight's chest hurts constantly, like the piercing blade is still puncturing him. No one could have stayed alive when the target is correctly hit, especially the target is the heart.

First, how did he came back to life? Too many theories he thought of and most of them are silly. Only one is Lorien-approved: he developed the Legacy of necrokinesis. But even that would be hard to explain. He died. How could he use a Legacy when he was dead?

Second, why did the Mogs keep him in here? Well, of course. The doctor said to kill him. But why nurse Eight to health? Why not kill him at the moment when he is most vulnerable? Then it hit him. The Mogs need the best source of information about the Garde. Immediately, the idea is encountered. Five already could provide them the information they can pig on. That traitor.

Third, numerous days without food and water? Eight knew he would die that long, even with the help of human medication. The dextrose was not enough to supply him. It was not also with the work of the charm. He can sense it that the Garde are still together. At least for Marina, Six and Nine, then Ella and John.

Marina. Oh in Nirvana would he like to see her right now. Thinking of her always entertains and calms him; it puts all the worries aside, at least temporarily. If Eight have not known Marina, he'd be insane the moment he had known about the Mog base. She is what keeps him determined.

Eight's to-do list:
Get out, find Marina.

It is not much but it will lead to more options. Marina is his main point. If he becomes ambivalent, consider only the option if it will benefit to his goal of finding Marina. Because if it will lead to her, defeating Setrakus Ra is just a step away.


The first time after his wake, Eight has a visitor. The heavy door opened with a clunk. A Mog with prestige comes in. He isn't like Setrakus Ra, but he knows how to be like him: stern and preserved.

Eight plans not to say a word to him. If they are here to extract information that Five had not give, then they will get it the hard way. Or for him, he will be quiet the hard way.

"How are you?"

Eight looks away.

"I am well aware you do not want to give me information about the Garde, but you have misjudged me. I am here to ask about your personal welfare, Eight."

Eight grunts at the Mog. He cannot believe it. The enemy is concerned about his health? Since when the crows turned white?

"Apparently, your hatred with the Mogadorians will not make you answer the question. How about I send your friend and you could chat?"

Eight turns at the word friend. He very well knows what 'friend' the enemy is saying.

The mog chuckles dryly, but the Garde sense amusement. The sound of laughter from his mouth makes Eight scowl. There is a first time for everything.

"Right," he says, returning to his stern self. "How could a friend be a traitor."

Eight wanted to say, you're goddamn right, but he didn't want to utter anything. He just expressed it through his angry scowl.

"Listen," he says. His voice raspy and snappy, clearly irritated. "I am not trying to be an enemy, friend or a traitor of some sort. I am just asking how is your condition. I want to help you."

"Help me?" Eight croaked in surprised. He is more surprise that the Mog got him to say something.

"Correct," he answers. "I am here not to help the Mogs or the Lorics."

"But why?" Eight asks in excruciating disbelief. If there is one thing that confuses him, this one did. A Mog is known for extreme loyalty. Helping a dying being is out of their so-called-manual.

"If you are dead, you are dead," he simply replies. Eight studies him intently. It is a challenge to read his intentions. "I have accomplished my day's goal. See you soon."

"What? Wait! I'll talk! Answer my questions!" Eight shouts and struggles beneath the straps.

Just leaving Eight on the bed, strapped. The Mog left without another word.


Later that day, or what it seems to Eight, the same Mog came back to his confinements.

As he saw him, eight knew better what to do. "I'm feeling swell."

"I know you do." the Mog's corner lip moves slightly, resembling a smile Eight never knew a Mog can make.

"Okay, here is the plan." The Mog starts to loosen the straps. "When I am done with this, I am going to pretend you are hurting me. I don't know if Setrakus Ra still holds your Legacies, so I'd act fast if I were you." Eight shakes his head, indicating his Legacies are still in malfunction. "Take the Alpha # 24.B route to get to the cargo and escape. You are all about stealth, aren't you? That won't be a problem. Hardly anyone takes that path. Unless, if you want to help your little friend-"

"He is not my friend!"

The Mog stops moving abruptly. "I am not talking about Five, you twerp."

"Devdan?"

"Never heard of him," The mog quickly states. He is moving faster as he starts to unstrap Eight's arms. "The little girl."

"Ella," Eight whispers. Why is she here? How did they get her? Marina is going to be so upset.

Once the last strap is removed from Eight, the Mogs trashes the room. The hospital bed is turned over, the machines broken, and the sheets and tubes thrown. One thing that will remain true to Eight after this experience with a Mogadorian. They are always rooted for destruction. The Mog is doing a great job at it.

Eight studies the marks on his skin. Seventeen red rectangular marks all over his body. It does not look bad, but Eight despised seeing it. He was captured by the Mogs. It was pathetic, until this Mog...

He maybe a double-crossing fool, but he made his way into Eight's trust. The Mog cared for him, he even prolonged his life, he basically save him from further harm. He has done more than what Setrakus Ra would have in a million years. Besides, in an enemy's lair, there is no one you can count on.

"Go!" He screams, tearing his uniform and messing up his hair.

The Garde hesitated, feeling guilty. He will not be able to find Mogs like him. "Why are you helping me?"

"I believe you have someone to see again. You keep on muttering her name."

Eight blushes. Automatically, he knows. "Come with me."

"No," the Mogs says firmly. "One traitor is enough."

Still on the spot, the Mog pushes Eight to the door. The Garde tries to stall time before he reaches the door. "I do not know your name!"

"Rex," he says with a smile more genuine. Weird name for a Mog.

"Thanks, Rex." His back on the Mog, Eight opens the door, a big smile on his face. Simultaneously, Rex collapses somewhere behind.

Marina, here I come.

To Eight's demise, what greeted him on the other side was not an empty hallway.


College has officially started and I am having four Major subjects. I am writing during my free time, so that is not a problem. My challenge is when to post the chapters. By next week I will be away. I will go on a haitus for five days. I will be going to Manila and Batangas for a National Youth Summit, provided it will be safe. Next, I have to participate for out Intramurals, since I am part of the Executive Council. So I will be sorry in advance for putting up late in case. I'll try my best though.