Act Two-The Dark Gauken Saga
Okay.
I've had a year-long hiatus.
So I may have started some other projects, and college started back up. I apologise. But I can also make few promises- as I say on my page, my updates will not be particularly regular. I will try my best!
A special thanks to Poisonlilie, who gave me the motivation to carry on with this never-ending monstrosity.
A brown-haired boy in green peered through a pair of binoculars across the large clearing in the middle of the forest. Faintly, just faintly, he saw a flash of movement across the way to the south- a quick flash of white, either a dress or hair it seemed- and he pressed two gloved fingers to his temple. As the signal was raised, the squad of fourteen moved invisibly toward the mound on which he lay, prepared for attack.
The boy's name was Toris Laurentalis, and he was an Exemplar.
Almost three months ago he and the team he was part of had awoken in the freezing Canadian winter, with little knowledge of where or who they were except for their names. Huddled together to keep hypothermia away, they had limped into an abandoned warehouse at the side of the freeway, and collapsed together.
That next morning they had shared names and a few tins of canned spaghetti, salvaged from one of the crates found in the warehouse. Ever since then they had regained their memories slowly until most- but not all of it- was regained. There was still a gap of around a year left in everyone's mind, something Toris could tell affected them greatly.
They ran out of food in the second week- and having the foresight to not get themselves arrested as shoplifting foreign amnesiacs- began to forage in the dumpsters of local supermarkets for food just beyond its sell-by-date. They'd agreed that there was no incentive to go to the police if they couldn't provide any information as to who they were.
That was when the met the Hellions and the Advocates.
Alfred, their leader, came home one day covered in small nicks and large bruises. He'd met another, slightly older boy-a British one, that they'd nicknamed 'the Earl'- breaking into the same shop they were hunting for food in. They'd had a small fight, and Alfred swore down that he'd seen the other boy throw garbage with his mind. But that wasn't the point of why they were here today.
Alfred had remembered his home address.
After that, more teenagers with seeming superpowers had popped up, one after another. At first it had seemed like one, enormous team- but after more direct confrontations and covert spying- it seemed more likely that it was two teams, one lead by a Hispanic shapeshifter, and the other by a French woman and the Earl.
As each fight, they discovered more about the strange powers that they all had and more memories could be accessed again.
As the team moved together under Mattea's power, all Toris could think of was remembering that past year, and understanding everything again.
But more than that, he'd come to really love spending time with those he'd lived with- long spats with Emil over jars of expired coffee beans. Complaining with Elizaveta over being forced to shift the huge tin crates to create more spaces. Laughing at night with a bag of marshmallows as Angelique kept the room toasty, and planning strategy with Eduard and Alfred in the smallest hours of the morning.
Still cloaked invisibly, he smiled all the way from one ear to the next.
Bring it on.
Mina smiled, and turned to Nikolas, crouched in the next branch over, hugging the trunk as to not fall out. They knew the other two teams were waiting in the east and the west- they were just waiting for them to make a move.
Arthur had been adamant on fighting these other superhumans ever since he'd been caught stealing fruit out of a 7-Eleven back in early March. Even Monique had laughed at him, they were starving and freezing to death in an extended underground coal shaft, made walkable in with Lovinio's powers. But as the days went on and the others seemed now to be intent on fighting, they'd found the unexpected gain of remembering who they were.
Not that Mina needed it, side-effects of powers as they were.
She shuddered, and pushed that thought to the very, very back of her mind where it belonged. No. Not right now.
Still, she was anticipating this fight the same as everyone. Even if she herself didn't need her memory back, she knew everyone would be just a smidgen happier if they remembered Gauken. Because even if she had mocked it, vandalised it and played hooky more than she should, it had been a good place, and everyone had good memories there.
Except for the whole be-euthanised-for-the-safety-of-humanity thing.
When they remembered, everyone could get on with their lives, she knew. She could stay in Canada, use their combined powers to make a whole new fake identity, go to college, have a future.
And Nikolas.
She grimaced internally, coming to what was probably her main reason.
When he remembered she'd have him back, and she would never, ever let him go again. They deserved to be happy together. They'd have a little house in the south, where you saw the sun more. A couple of dogs, no kids. Well, they'd talked a few times about bringing her little brother over, but he didn't count. When it was warm they'd take bikes round the great lakes, and in the winter they'd sit inside and watch terrible Christmas movie on the free channels.
But that was when he remembered.
A single shot rang out over the clearing- Vash Zwingli, her mind supplied, and the heavy anticipation was shattered with adrenaline-fuelled roars. Mina rushed into the fray, eyes sparking, ready for her wish to come true.
Yes, I will be happy.
Smack.
Mina stopped and stared amongst the battle.
No.
She fell to her knees, blocking the fading sounds of battle out as the fighting ceased.
No.
She heard a scream. Later, someone would tell her that Mina had been the one to supply it.
NO.
The world began to spin around in swirls of violent colour. Pink and blue, purple and red, black and yellow and white and green and orange and brown and gold and a hundred more, taking shape, forming out of nothing, pouring out of every facet of her, screaming and crying and oblivious.
She tilted her head up to the sky and closed her eyes, digging her nails into the ground as the unformed, coloured blast spun outwards, knocking everyone to the ground. They watched as each colour found a match and ricocheted off into the sky, hurtling in multitude of directions and then plummeting to the earth.
And then Mina was nowhere to be seen, leaving only a very still Nikolas in the centre of the woods.
July 21st. Day One.
It all happened so fast.
There was a single shot from the east and everyone rushed onto the field.
This would be the first and the last time the teams would battle against each other on such a scale. Power charged through the air, water and fire and earth and heat. It was a psychic minefield, as one wrong step could put you in the line of fire for an illusion, or a sleep-inducing blast, or a withered limb. You could barely seen the other teams for the dust in the air, carnage being laid waste to the innocent clearing.
No-one knows whose fault it really was, and in the end, it doesn't matter. Because what matters is what happened next, not what happened then, and by now, the past is irrelevant.
Because in the end, all it took was one single rock to the head from the flying debris to send one of them falling to the ground.
It is short, I understand that. But I feel guilty about leaving this for so long.
This is very much the introductory chapter to the arc, which will be slightly darker in tone to the first. However, the usual dialogue-y format will be back next chapter as Toris the exposition fairy is no longer needed. Think of this as your overly cryptic blurb.
Warning: from now on there will be character death.
Thank you for your patience, and please follow, favourite and review.