So here we go. We are now starting zone 3. There will most likely be one or two chapters after this before the ELSEN reveal, but time is running out. I believe in all of you attempting to solve the mystery!
WARNING: Rated M for Combat, allusions to darker themes, thematic 'drug' abuse and Dedan.
Stepping through the door to zone 3, the Player began coughing hard. The Batter did not stop to think, yanking her back through the door harshly. Hopefully, she could find it in her pure, generous heart to forgive him this sin. She knelt on the nothingness, coughing as she cleared her lungs. Dedan hovered to her right, watching her hack with a look of worry.
"Hey, what's wrong?"
"I," she gave one last cough, "I can't breathe smoke as well as you guys do. The air inside zone 3 was immediately too thick." She pulled out her bandana, wrapping it around her mouth. "This should help some, but I'll have to be careful. Why was it so thick though? I would have though zone 1 would have had the thickest."
Dedan leaned back, stretching. "Ah, that's because Enoch made zone 3 into an industrial zone. It's all factories." A dark look flashed across his face, his teeth gritting. "You'll want to stay very close here, sweetheart. With how the zones have gone ta shit and all, I doubt that this place with any better. It was dangerous before, now it's probably down right hazardous." Japhet fluttered on his shoulder.
"Indeed. Zone 3 is…treacherous, to say the least. This would be an area to be very careful, my dear." He flitted to her shoulder, resting lightly on her as she stood back up. She gave him a quick pat and opened the door again. This time she was able to withstand the wave of smoke, but just barely.
"Orange for an industrial zone. How appropriate," the Player muttered, leaving the Batter to tilt his head at her. He just did not understand what his precious Player said sometimes. She was just too far beyond for a mere monster such as he to comprehend half of what she knew. The group moved forward down the path in front of them, stepping to the building. The mint green walls were in stark contrast to the orange outside. As was the mint green desk, with the mint green note, with the forest green message stating I'll be back in a minute. On the wall was a note covered in stamp marks.
"I see they stuck with a theme here," the Player murmured through her bandana as she took the Stamped Note off the wall. It could be useful.
Japhet fluffed his feathers. "Well, not everyone's zone could be as marvelous as mine was." Dedan cut an incredulous look at the bird but held back from commenting. He had been oddly subdued since they had left zone 2, biting his tongue to hold back several scathing remarks. IT was highly unlike the former Guardian.
Dedan stretched. "Questionable colors aside—" Japhet bristled. "—if I remember right, downstairs is the monorail to the next area of the zone." The Player nodded, tilting her head.
"Then we should probably come back here after exploring this area." The Batter nodded, agreeing with his Player's sage advice.
Outside was a small path leading to a building, a platform between the two. The plastic waves lapped gently against the ground, a peaceful feeling resounding around the small courtyard-like area. An Elsen was sitting on the metal ground, watching the plastic. It didn't react as they approached, only giving a contented sigh. Its eyes were glassy.
The Elsen leaned back on its arms, relaxing as it watched the plastic waves lap against the metal ground. It didn't stutter as it spoke, not a hint of nervousness present in its manner. "The plastic is beautiful today." It sighed, a small contented smile on its face. The Player blinked, confused. Slowly a smile spread across her face, soft and kind.
"Yeah, it is, isn't it?" The Batter turned away, feeling something in his chest constrict at the sight. That filth didn't deserve her smiles, didn't deserve for her to even speak to it.
A faint whiff of something drifted by his nose and the Batter sniffed. How…odd. The Elsen smelled sweet, a scent that tickled at the back of the Batter's mind, reminding him of something. What though? He dismissed the thoughts as the group moved on.
Stepping into the building, the Batter wrinkled his nose, sneering; the scent of the air was cloyingly thick, as if he could taste it. The Batter now very much so remembered what that smell was. "Ugh," Dedan scoffed, "So sweet…" Japhet buried his beak in his breast feathers. The Player tightened her bandana.
"I can't smell it through this, but if it has all of you reacting like this, it must be pretty strong." And thank goodness for small mercies, the Batter thought. He could feel his mind fuzzing at the edges from the smell, it was so thick. He would have to be careful to prevent his pure, clean Player from being exposed to it. Either physically, or mentally.
"It's not just that it's strong, sweetheart. It's what that smell means to us." Oh good, right off the bat with making her curious, huh? The Batter glared at Dedan, who seemed to realize what he said. Now she was going to ask about what the smell meant. However, before his curious Player could inquire, a hiss echoed from across the large cafeteria.
Hovering toward the group were three Spectres, one wearing a crown. The Player slammed down her visor, shooing Japhet off her shoulder. "Huh, nothing odd about the one wearing the crown, though it is a separate entity. Batter, give me a Special Homerun." The smash of the bat took out the first Spectre, the other two scattering with hisses.
Without waiting for an instruction, the Batter unwound the Saturated Chain and swung it hard. The poisonous links wrapped around the unfortunate Spectre, ripping through its plasmic form with ease.
"Nicely done," the Player praised, and the Batter felt a swell of pride. His Player was so kind, to praise a creature like him. "Omega, Photographic Blur!" The Add-On slipped off the Batter's arm and turned blurry, swiping at the remaining ghost. The attack blasted a chunk of the Spectre away, leaving it to slowly dissipate, the crown fading as well.
A whoosh sounded, rings of light surrounding the group. Then they were outside, next to the reclining Elsen. The group was silent, only the gentle swishing of the waves echoing in the area.
The Player pulled out the Stamped Note and looked at it. "Oh great. It's a puzzle, isn't it?" Thinking carefully, she sighed. "Well, I'm guessing it's a maze puzzle. When we step wrong, Spectres come out." She groaned, looking at the building. "I hate these ones."
Japhet twittered. "Well, while I don't quite understand how you came to the conclusion you did, this does not entirely affect me. I can just fly to the other side."
Dedan snorted. "Well, lucky you, ya little flying fuck. The rest of us plebeians have to walk." Ignoring them, the Batter moved over to the Player, looking over her shoulder at the Stamped Note she was inspecting.
"Look, it appears there are multiple routes in the cafeteria. See how the numbers split like this?" She motioned to the paper, and the Batter nodded.
"We should start with the path in black. It appears the shortest." The Batter pressed his finger to the indicated path, reaching around the Player. She swallowed hard, pink on her cheeks as she responded.
"Yeah, that seems smart." Slipping the Stamped Note back into her Inventory, she stepped away from the Batter. He preened, both at his Player's compliment and at the red on her cheeks. It was so pleasurable to make that red appear.
"Hey, let's go!" The Player waved the two former Guardians over, and the group filed into the building, carefully following the Player as she navigated the floor. In short order, the group found themselves at a door.
"Alright, puzzle solved. Now, what is behind door number one?" Stepping into the room, the Batter smacked a hand over his face, a grimace there. The Player stopped dead, staring at the man in front of them.
"Now what in the hell is he up to?" Dedan lit a cigar, chuckling at the sight.
"Zacharie, my dear mercantile friend, what on earth are you wearing?" The Player pursed her lips, not entirely sure how to react to the sight. Zacharie laughed, posing.
"Good day, dear reckless accomplice and company!" The merchant gave a meow, stifling his laughter. "I've somewhat changed, anatomically speaking… But you have obviously recognized me at first glance! I'm your friend, the Judge!" It was quiet.
"Zacharie, you are not fooling anyone," The Batter spoke, his voice deadpan. In fact, the disguise was incredibly stupid, if he were honest. Dedan sighed. How this was the same man he had just spoken to was beyond him.
"…" Zacharie let out a sad meow. "So my disguise was no match for your keen and unforgiving eyesight…" He sighed, looking away. "Judge isn't really in top-form at the moment." No, Zacharie wasn't looking away, Dedan realized. He was looking at Japhet. "I'm going to replace him for some time, to give him some time."
Zacharie turned his attention back to the Player. "Anyway, I'll be hunting down obscure clues that I shall take pleasure in revealing to you little by little in the most destructive manner." Zacharie threw back his head, laughing as he rubbed his hands together. "Ah ah ah, I can already smell the good times!"
The Batter clenched his fists at the irritating merchant's allusion. "…" He knew very well that the scent was a horrible sign of how badly corrupted and tainted this zone was. To make light of that was a perfect example of how trash he was.
"Are you going for a stroll near the dormitories in the meantime? I've heard that the spectres there are quite active." Zacharie tilted his head, blinking his eyes innocently. The Batter exchanged a look with Dedan. The hint wasn't subtle, but whatever.
The Player rubbed a hand over her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You aren't going to sell us anything while you have that mask on, are you?"
"How astute of you, my dear! For I am a simple feline, not a marvelous merchant; how could I purr-vide the items you so need?"
"You get one of those. Only one, Zacharie."
The dormitories didn't appear to be anything special, at first glance. An odd poster adorned one wall, reading There are no ghosts under the mattresses. As the Player stepped into the dorm unit, the Elsen there spun around, stuttering and waving its hands. Its glassy eyes reflected its paranoid panic.
"Uh… Uh… I… I'm hiding nothing! I promise…" The Elsen quickly turned back to his bunk, crawling in and laying down, facing the wall.
"Well, despite the fact that was not convincing in the slightest, I will leave that for later. I want to examine the area further before we investigate…whatever that was."
There was a memo on the wall of the next dorm unit as well; Do not forget to make your bed when you get up. A chest inside the unit held two Fortune Tickets, but the room yielded nothing else of interest. Dedan crossed his arms, huffing out some smoke.
"Okay, I'm not seeing it. What in the hell was that crackpot merchant talking about?" The scent of his cigar smoke cut through the sweet air nicely, blocking out the cloying scent. Despite having a fierce and unyielding hatred for the parasite, the Batter appreciated the reprieve from the confectioned air.
"Hmmm, perhaps it's further in?" The Player was doubtful herself, however. There really did appear to be nothing here... except that one Elsen from before, but that was just weird, not suspicious. Inside the next room was an Elsen reclining against the far wall, appearing far more relaxed than any Elsen they had seen before. Its eyes were glassy.
"There's no need to fear. No one bears you ill will." It spoke slowly, wheezing its sentence out as if it had all the time in the world. The Player decided not to enter the room, a decision that the Batter heartily supported. After all, it appeared that only scum was here. Perhaps the last room would hold whatever they sought.
Flashes and hissing came from the last room, three Spectres appearing to block the entry, leaving an Elsen trapped with them inside. It stepped away from the trio, wheezing. "Who are you all?" The Spectres advanced on it. "Are you… spectres?" They advanced again, though the Elsen did not step back. "You… You're not bad ghosts, right?"
The Player moved to enter the room, but the Batter extended his arm, stopping her. Dedan laid a hand on her shoulder, further preventing her from moving. "Sweetheart, I think natural selection needs to occur here." The Batter had to agree. The Elsen was so stupid that he could not find it in himself to fear such an obvious threat. That, or he was too muddled.
The Elsen stepped forward toward the spectres. "O… Of course not… You are our friends." The nearest Spectre lashed out, ripping a gash down the Elsen's arm. Red dripped from the rip, causing the Batter's mouth to water.
I'm hungry.
But he wouldn't touch a drop from this Elsen. It was poisoned meat, so laced with Sugar that it would always carry the granules inside it.
"Why won't he run?" The Player had slackened, staring at the Elsen as it clutched its wounded arm to its body. It didn't make sense to her; this was a clear threat. Why would it still stay there?
"Because his world view has been Sweetened*." Japhet stated this matter-of-factly. Dedan hissed a harsh breath out of his teeth, but Japhet did not retract his statement. It would have had to be explained at some point.
"This… this isn't a serious injury… I'm sure…" The Spectres lashed out, tearing the Elsen apart. It didn't even scream, its eyes glassy even before death dulled them.
"Taste my holy wrath, corrupted souls." The Batter raised his bat, lashing out without his Player's instructions. Soon the Spectres were naught but air. The Batter put his bat away, watching the Spectres fade. "May salvation be yours, children of the devil**."
"That's what was wrong with Sucrose, isn't it? It's a substance abuse."
"You knew?"
"I had suspicions, but drugs seemed out of place for this world. Still, for sugar to affect individuals like this…"' She gave a small, muffled laugh behind her bandana. "I've heard of sugar highs, but this is ridiculous." She pulled down her bandana to take a swig of water, before pulling it back up. "Still, if it's like the sugar I know, I won't be affected by it. That said, best not to risk it."
"That's a wise choice," Japhet agreed, idly eyeing the dead Elsen. "Rather you kept your wits about you."
The Player swallowed hard, looking at the eviscerated Elsen. The Batter put himself between her and the corpse, hiding it from view. She looked up at him, eyes sad.
"Yeah, that… that may be for the best." She looked away, leaving the room. "We should go back and talk to Zacharie."
*A headcanon effect of Sugar. Sometimes people take drugs to escape reality. It is my headcanon that Sugar affects how the user views the world, making it a happier reality than what is really there. It would explain Sucrose's dialogue, as well as make sense. After all, this world sucks for the Elsen; even if Sugar didn't have an addictive effect, I have a feeling they would take it to escape reality.
**When you think about it, this one line says a lot about the Batter's mental state. I won't explain here, but if anyone has questions, PM me. Though I'm sure that everyone who has played the game knows what he means here.
So, yeah. I tried to keep a little bit a levity in this, since I won't be able to next chapter. As it is, zone 3 is perhaps the darkest of the zones, what with the rampant drug abuse and such.
FUN FACT: While zone 0 only had two chapters dedicated to it, both zone 1 and zone 2 had ten chapters each. Subconscious patterns are weird.
ANOTHER FUN FACT: As of this chapter, this story has over double the word count of my next largest story. Yay for small fandoms!
Also, I figured I should drop this OMAKE here. After all, it seems like the best time, seeing as the relationship will be addressed soon anyway… (warning, not nice themes ahead. Discretion advised, warnings for this OMAKE in Corrupted Save.)
ENOCH (I Want to Turn Back Time)
What would you do, Enoch, if Sucrose was still alive? If Zacharie was still here? What, Enoch?
Enoch turned the small doll over in his meaty hands, tracing his fingers across its aquiline features. It was so small, so delicate. A reminder of all that he had lost, through his own blindness. He turned it over in his hands, the fabric of the dress catching on his scarred fingertips.
It was too quiet.
It always was now. Only the sounds of the factory and the faint murmur of his workers ever filled the silence now. No longer did he hear gleeful laughter in the halls, or flamboyant chuckles from the rooms. There were no more jokes, or family dinners, or talks of stocks and production.
It was too quiet.
He couldn't take how quiet it was. He felt empty. He felt so empty.
He wanted his children back, but that wasn't going to happen. Enoch knew that. One was dead, by his own inaction, and one had fled from him in disgust. The echoes of her screams, of his yells, of his own frantic cries…they filled his ears. They never stopped, not even as he slept.
He hated the quiet. It was so empty.
Sucrose… Enoch choked back a sob, his hands tightening on the tiny doll. How sick was he? How awful was he, that the substance that caused his daughter's death was what he took pride in selling? How twisted was he, that the substance that warped her mind was named after her by his choice?
Hunching over his desk slightly, Enoch choked on his sob, tears running down his face as he clutched the doll to his chest. They dripped over the holes in his cheeks, the salty taste a sharp contrast to the sweet taint of the factory air. The tears stung the stretched holes, his teeth clenched and visible through them.
He wanted them back. He missed them so much. What kind of a father fails both of his children so thoroughly? His actions… Enoch sobbed loudly, the sound echoing in the vastness of his office. The clock on the wall chimed the hour cheerily, and Enoch fell into himself even further, resting his head on his desk.
"I want to turn back time."
But what would he do if he had the chance? How would he save his Sucrose? How would he keep his Zacharie? Enoch did not know, but he knew if he had the chance, he would try. He had to. But that chance would not come.
Zacharie was still out there. Enoch knew that. He could feel it. He would bring him back home, eventually. He could at least have one of his children. He would prove to Zacharie that he was…he was…what? What could he prove? That the sales of his daughter's poison were phenomenal? That his zone was under his control, firmly and entirely? What could Enoch prove to his son that would make him love him again?
His chest hurt. It felt so empty, so bereft without his children.
It made him feel so hungry.
Yes, the hunger. Enoch sniffled, caressing the doll. The hunger was always there now. It never left, just like the screams. He felt so empty all the time, so hungry now. He sat the doll down on his desk, watching it as it slumped.
He was so hungry.
Standing up, the mountainous man made his way out of his office. Down the hall, but only slightly, to the room on the right. It was always locked. Only Enoch had the key. Stepping inside, Enoch fell to his knees on the striped floor. Little dolls lined the wall, each one staring with blank eyes and fixed smiles. Sucrose had liked dolls and puppets.
Shuffling from down the hallway, toward where Enoch had fallen. A stuttering voice, wheezing. "Uh…uh…E-Enoch, sir?" How dare it be here? Enoch straightened up, turning slightly to look at the Elsen standing in the door as it stuttered to him. It wasn't allowed to be here. It wasn't supposed to be here.
"—and there are intruders in the factory—" Enoch swung, grasping the tiny figure in his massive hand. It gasped in fright and Enoch brought it to his face. He grinned at it, watching it pale further and further, struggling.
He was ever so hungry.
So yeah. Enoch has got some issues. I can't wait to post his full backstory, or at least what I like to think his story is.
Thanks to everyone who reviews the chapters! You make writing this-which was already super fun-even more enjoyable.
JUST A REMINDER. OMAKES are not only posted here, but in Corrupted Save. Additonal OMAKES that are too long to stick at the ends of chapters are there as well. I recommend at least going to look if you enjoy the OMAKES.