28 Found (Rescue cont.)

a/n: They find Doug, no problemo.

Swears. Underedited because I ALREADY WROTE SOMETHING FOR THE 6TH ANNIVERSARY YAYYYYYYY!

All the good things belong to Monolith Soft, including some of the dialogue, but some of these extra prisoners will be OC.

The brass at BLADE tower could go over it with a fine comb later, but to Frye it seemed pretty cut and dried. Yelv did a thing with the floor and some explosive goo, H.B. did a thing with some electronics that made the locks whimper and submit, and Frye did a thing to a lone and unfortunate guard. The corridor where prisoners were held was a row of anonymous blank doors, no numbers or name tags. They relied on H.B.'s device to get to the right cell.

Half-way down the hall, Yelv dropped to his knees, holding his head and whimpering. H.B. lurched away from the prison doors until he was pressed against the opposite wall, discretely clawing at it. Frye felt a screaming in his head, a sick feeling that reminded him of every failure he had ever suffered. It was a long list. He shook his head and pounded against the nearest prison door. "Shut up, you!" Something big pounded back, but the influence wavered enough that H.B. dashed out of range. Frye grabbed Yelv under the armpits and dragged him clear.

"What the hell, pard?" Yelv was sitting up and ready to go back and punch whatever it was that had tried to control them.

"It didn't affect you," H.B. said with surprise. He smoothed his brow with a hand that trembled only slightly.

"Nasty stuff, but I'm used to it," said Frye. "I already know my brain lies, all the time. Tell me we don't need to go back that way, H.B."

H.B. looked grim. "The door next to it."

"Great. Yelv, can you open it from the far edge?"

"Pard, that's not only a great idea, but a good one. Like I said, people focus on the locks, not the hinges."

The poisonous feelings still flitted through their minds, but awareness and the small amount of distance were enough to keep them from being enthralled. Yelv used more threads of goo and the door popped out of its frame with a minor rumble. Frye noted that there were sirens blaring, but loud noises never bothered him.

Frye stood watch in the corridor, admiring the way the neighboring prisoner kept pounding on the door, while Yelv and H.B. hurried in to examine their find. The room was bare, floor and walls and ceiling all paneled with black metal. The temperature matched that of an industrial freezer; mims don't breath wet or warm, but H.B.'s breath came out in little puffs. In the center knelt what looked like a human figure, draped in a familiar green cover, now stained and worn. H.B. peeled it back.

"It's him!" shouted Yelv.

"Let H.B. run the routine, dumbass," Frye shouted back without looking.

"Oh yeah."

"Ahem," H.B. said. He tapped Doug on the bare shoulder, not to get his attention so much as to test that he wasn't a Definian illusionist.

Doug lifted his head with difficulty and stared blearily at H.B. He coughed harshly, then croaked out the code words. "Man, H.B., would it kill you to lay down some kind of plan of attack?"

"Please, all that matters is results," H.B. sniffed and started removing the restraints.

Yelv was splitting his time between doing hurried first aid and passing Doug bits of spare armor from his pack. Doug needed help getting to his feet. H.B. flashed a worried look at Frye, who shrugged. Yelv could carry their friend if it came down to it.

"Took you guys long enough," Doug said with another painful cough.

"Pard, we're the guaranteed next day delivery," Yelv said.

"More like a week and then some. I lost track after a few days."

H.B.'s worried glance was sharper, but Frye remained unconcerned. More stuff for someone else to figure out much much later. Doug was dressed and even able to hold his photon sabre, although Frye wasn't counting on him being much use in any fight. "Any sign of Elma's people?" Frye asked him. At this point, Frye was inclined to leave anyone else to fend for themselves, but they had gone to all this effort to check out the possibility.

"No, not while I was here. My friend doesn't think there's anyone like that either." He nodded in the opposite direction of the still-thumping bad neighbor.

"Your friend?" asked H.B.

"Yeah," Doug said firmly. "And we gotta get him out too."

a/n: I can't swear to it, but I'm pretty sure the unseen bad neighbor is Maroos from "Xenotober 2020". Big bad mean Prone, and last we saw he was dead? Oh well. Never mind. HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, XENOBLADE X!

Next up: Fine, your friend can come too.