/Terribly sorry for leaving this story without updates for months. A ton of stuff happened, and I got busy with schoolwork. While school is out for now, I don't have long until it starts back up again.
/And aside from being busy, it was just generally hard to write this because I'm still having trouble finding my "voice" as it were, when it comes to writing, as this is the first time I've ever forced myself to write out a story. I'm starting to feel a bit more comfortable though, so hopefully this becomes easier as I go along.
Krizalid huffed as he pulled on his shirt for what felt to him like he hundredth time in the past hour. While he was grateful for the clothes he found in the car, and the pants fit well enough, it didn't change the fact that the shirt was obviously intended for someone much smaller than he was.
Christ. I glad to have some clothes, but it feels like this shirt is going to suffocate me.
Besides the shirt, Krizalid was also becoming irritated with his route. Krizalid knew it wouldn't take long for the owners of the car to report it stolen, so he had to get out of the state, Georgia, of all places, as soon as possible. Krizalid used the car's GPS to plot a course to the nearest state, Florida, which would get him there in just over an hour. But that was by using the highways. Driving a stolen car, likely already reported, Krizalid chose to use rural backroads. While these roads, entirely surrounded by either prairies or forests, were absent of police, they also more than doubled the route's travel time.
Come on, can't believe how long this is taking. Maybe I should've just taken the highway.
He took a deep breath to calm himself.
No, Kriz, just focus. Just another hour or so and you're home free. Whatever that means for me right now.
As Krizalid drove around a curve in the road, another car appeared in front of him. One which didn't seem to be in a hurry to get anywhere. Krizalid slowed down behind it.
Well, great. Now I'm stuck behind a slowpoke.
Krizalid drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. His eyes flicked to the GPS. His travel time had just increased by two minutes. His fingers drummed harder.
If it weren't for that family, this wouldn't be happening. If they didn't report the car, I'd be on the highway. If I was on the highway, I'd be out of the state. If I was out of the state, I wouldn't be worried about cops.
He took another deep breath. His fingers stopped drumming.
I should've just killed them.
It was so obvious. Why hadn't he thought of it before? Krizalid imagined how he would've done it. There were two adults and, what, two kids? Three? Didn't matter.
The adults would be the hardest, of course. But they didn't look like fighters. Snapping their necks wouldn't take any time at all. Maybe he would've found a rock and bludgen their heads in.
The children would be easy. They were so young, a few strong blows would finish them, weapon or no. But if that didn't work, throttling the life out of them would do just as well.
And that wasn't even considering his flames. At full power, he could've easily fried them all. The heat would cause the fat in their bodies to bubble up through the skin, leaving the flesh underneath to be cooked black. Just imaging it, Krizalid could practically smell the burning bodies. He was quite familiar with the process.
But his powers weren't exactly stealthy. What if someone saw him? No point in getting rid of the family if someone else reported him. So he'd just have to get rid of that person too. And if someone saw that? Well, it was just as NESTS had taught him. Killing was always the easiest solution to a problem. And for as much as Krizalid hated NESTS now, he couldn't disagree with their logic.
There weren't many people at the beach. Maybe 20. He could've used his powers to kill every single one of them. It would take a while, and it would be tiring, but it could be done. The entire beach would be turned into a charred mass grave, but there would be no one to report him.
And I never would've had to worry about getting caught by the police.
Yet, something inside Krizalid protested the idea. It was a feeling he had at the beach too. It had restrained him from killing the family in the first place. But why?
Because you weren't strong enough.
The thought echoed through Krizalid. It was the same thing he told K' when he hesitated on a kill. Krizalid had hated him for that. Thought it was a sign of K''s inferiority as a clone, to hesitate where Krizalid did not. But then it turned out the other way around. It was Krizalid who was a clone of K' the whole time. Created to help NESTS take over the world, it made sense then why he didn't hesitate.
Because I'm just a weapon. And a weapon doesn't hesitate or question its orders.
Krizalid shook his head, trying to free it of thoughts of the past. His introspection could wait. First, he had to get out of the state. And luckily, the other car had taken another path, out of Krizalid's way.
Finally! No more obstacles, no more distractions. Let's get the hell out of here already!
Just before he sped up again, Krizalid spotted a blood-red blotch that stood out against the green of the forest. As he drove closer, he realized what it was. A wildfire.
Oh great, don't tell me I'll have to turn around...
Krizalid turned his head to observe the fire's path through the forest.
Hmm, looks like it's just inside that forest for now. Think I can keep driving along this road. Good thing, too. One more problem, and I would-
A sudden impact against the car interrupted Krizalid's thoughts. The car screeched to a halt as he stopped, and there was a great sloshing sound coming from the back. Growling with frustration, Krizalid lept out of the car.
Of course I hit something the second I look away! Just my luck!
As soon as Krizalid got out of the car, he saw what he'd driven into. It was a teenaged boy. He was on fire, and strangely, lacked any clothes whatsoever.
Krizalid breathed a sigh of relief.
Oh good. If all I hit was this scrawny punk, the car should be just fine.
He quickly scanned the front of the car. There was no damage at all.
Satisfied, Krizalid turned to get back into the car. He still had time to make up for after being stuck behind the slowpoke. He also wasn't interested in getting caught in a forest fire.
But as he made his way to the door, he looked at the boy once more. Still lying face-down on the pavement, it seemed that he hadn't moved.
This moron's going to get run over if he doesn't wake up soon.
He stopped, hand on the door.
And I am the one who hit him...
"Hey, idiot!" he said to the boy. "Get out of the road. Unless you want to be run over."
No response. Krizalid rolled his eyes. He walked over to the boy and kneeled down in front of him.
"You're still alseep, aren't you? Well, wake up!" Krizalid shouted.
Still nothing. Krizalid grit his teeth.
"Moron!" he continued "I said wake up!" As Krizalid spoke, he reached out to the boy's shoulder, intent on shaking him awake.
As soon as he made contact, the bright red flames on the boy's body intensified, then trailed up Krizalid's arm.
Krizalid fell back in surprise. Through a combination of counteracting with his own flames as well as flailing his arm, he managed to put the fire out. Krizalid looked back at the boy.
He's another flame user! But he can't control his flames. No way he could survive this long without something to suppress his powers. Could it be? Is he another clone?
All Krizalid needed was a good luck at the boy's face to confirm his suspicions. Knowing what to expect, he reach out to the boy's shoulder and flipped him over quickly. After putting out the boy's flames again, Krizalid took a look at this face.
Krizalid's heart skipped a beat. He'd expected to see Kyo's face, the face that all his "brothers" had, courtesy of the Japanese dropout.
Instead, Krizalid saw his own face. Or, more accurately, the face of K'. But, while the face was the same as Krizalid's, other things about the boy were different. He was pale, in stark contrast to Krizalid's and K''s own, heavily tanned complexion. His hair was also brown unlike theirs, though there was a patch that had a similar shade of white.
So, he's another K clone, just like me. But why is he so different? And why are his flames different too?
Krizalid's ears pricked up as he heard sirens in the distance. The wildfire had attracted attention that he'd rather avoid. The questions would have to wait. He'd ask the boy what he knew when he woke up.
But first, I have to figure out a way to get this kid out of here. With the flames he generated, he'd probably end up burning through the car. Do I have anything that can cool him down?
Krizalid opened the back of the car, and his eyes snapped to the large cooler. Besides some plastic containers of food, it was mostly full of ice and water. The water was nearly freezing, and it looked to be just large enough to fit the boy's body.
Guess this explains the sloshing sound I heard earlier. Whatever, it'll do for now.
Krizalid, trying to minimize the amount of contact he had with the boy, threw him into the cooler. The body bounced against the cooler's lid before falling down into it, with the lid coming down on top of him. As soon as the boy made contact with the ice and water, clouds of steam burst forth, fogging up the windows.. When the steam died down, Krizalid checked the boy again. No more spontaneous combustion, though the body was still quite warm. All the ice in the cooler had evaporated. The water was lukewarm, and still heating up.
Damn. Guess I'll need some more ice if I don't want you turning into a match again.
Krizalid listened for the sirens. They were much closer this time.
Hope this is good enough for you, kid. Now let's get out of here and get you some ice.
/It's not said explicitly in the text, but that boy is Nameless.
/Sorry if parts of this chapter felt a bit tonally dissonant with the previous chapters. But I kind of want to hammer home that Krizalid did some messed up stuff when he worked for NESTS. It'll come up a few more time, with Nameless in the next chapter, and K' in a later one.