I don't know if I've made it apparent or not, but the characters will misgender each other for a while since they've never known about the existence of the opposite sex. For example, 2BDamned and Deimos referred to Brynn as a man, whereas Brynn referred to the AAHW agents as women. This gets a little hard to write with at times, so excuse any errors that may slip past my proofreading.
Also, if you've been keeping up with this story since the first chapter's release, you might want to go back and look at the new concept art added below. I changed the designs of the grunts just a little bit to add more personality. Before, all of them were hairless, had free-floating hands, and no real facial features. Now they have arms, hair, ears, and noses.
Sanford removed the bandana from his head, using one of the dry corners to quickly wipe the sweat threatening to spill onto his lips.
He didn't think much when he saw Deimos standing by the entrance to the showers. Knowing him, he probably just predicted when Sanford would end his workout and stopped by to tell him something on his way to shower.
His assumptions were cemented when Deimos turned to look at Sanford while fighting back a grin.
"Hold up, don't go in there, yet," warned Deimos, "There's a mutant in there."
"That's no way to talk about 2B," scoffed Sanford.
"If he really came all this way to tell that joke, he must be bored."
However, Deimos surprised Sanford by side-stepping in front of the entrance, and saying, "No, no, I'm not kidding this time. There's an actual mutant taking a shower in there. I'm supposed to keep watch over it."
Sanford furrowed his brow, shaking his head in disbelief. Sometimes, he actually found Deimos' sense of humor to be genuinely funny instead of distasteful, but the presence of other sweaty, tired men lounging around the entrance made him second-guess the situation.
"Really?" Sanford humored, "And this mutant is so big that it took up all of the other shower stalls, too, huh?"
"Nah, he's only a little bit taller than 2B. The real reason is...uh...kinda complicated…"
Despite the noise of the gym down the hall, the soft creak of a single showerhead turning off grabbed everyone's attention.
All conversation in the hallways stopped as everyone listened to the damp footsteps walking around the showers before drawing closer and closer to the entrance.
The portion of Sanford's belief that still clung to the idea of this being a joke was quickly exterminated as Brynn stepped out wrapped in a towel. Confusion substituted that space in Sanford's mind.
"Is...this a kid?" he wondered as he noticed Brynn's soft features twist into discomfort.
Even though Brynn was fully aware that she wasn't being stared at in a perverse way, being gawked at like a specimen didn't feel any better.
Deimos broke the tension with a flippant, "Alright, kiddo, time to find some clothes," as he ushered Brynn down the hallway.
Whispers followed the two as Brynn was studied by the confused and curious grunts lining the hallway. Though, the gossip didn't last long. Even Sanford found his interest fading fast.
"If he is a mutant, he's probably the most docile-looking thing I've seen around here."
He nodded to himself, reasoning that that's why Deimos would be put in charge of the oddity.
Usually, whenever Hank infiltrated one of the A.A.H.W.'s locations, he left an eerie, lifeless silence. Maybe a few groans and wheezes from those who had survived could be heard, but that was rare.
On this particular day, the Auditor was both surprised and discontented to hear the commotion before the elevator even came to a stop.
"That man's just becoming more of a problem every minute…"
The doors opened to the usual litter of bloodied bodies and flesh sprawled across the floor. Above the mess, agents argued as they tried to maneuver around the scene, give orders to one another, and clean up.
Usually, the janitors were the only ones responsible for disposing of fallen agents, but some of the bodies did not belong to anyone who worked for A.A.H.W.
"Shit…" the Auditor muttered as he rushed forward.
His swiftness grabbed the attention of everyone else who struggled just to take more than a step without tripping over a body.
One of the unlucky agents stooping down to lift a woman became the target of the Auditor's interrogation.
"What happened to the test subjects?" the Auditor quipped as his swaying shadow blanketed the crouching agent.
The agent brought himself up to his feet, hoisting up the unconscious woman by her shoulders. The attempt to appear dignified in front of his superior faltered when the movement caused her to spit up blood all over her dress.
"W-We were transporting the last of them to the cells when Hank came around," huffed the agent, "He didn't look like he was trying to terminate the experiments, though. He was just hunting down the Sheriff again, and we got caught in the crossfire."
The Auditor clicked his tongue, glaring at the carnage as if it were nothing but spilled garbage.
"How many are still alive?" he asked.
"We'll have to do another headcount," explained the agent, "But it must be below forty-five since five of the subjects didn't survive the plane crash."
The Auditor continued to study the room. With the agents' quarreling slowed down as they listened for their next order, the noise level had been greatly reduced. This allowed the Sheriff's low, muffled sobs to be heard.
The Auditor's irritation was washed away by a subtle horror as he remembered the panicked message that brought him downstairs in the first place.
"Jeb is dead."
At first, he didn't believe it. Jeb was not a normal grunt. That was the entire reason he was the Sheriff's bodyguard.
The Auditor shook his head.
"I have to see this for myself," he thought as he progressed towards the direction of the Sheriff's misery.
The Auditor passed a multitude of bodies, limbs, and vague heaps of flesh, but nothing that he could recognize as Jeb. Not even any of the scraps of clothing ripped apart by the massacre could be linked to the man's usual attire.
He tapped a nearby agent's shoulder.
"Where's Jeb's body?" he asked.
The agent tried not to lower his head as he said, "It's, uh, we haven't seen it yet."
"What?"
The room wasn't that large, and it wouldn't be hard to spot Jeb amongst all of the nearly identical agents. Then again, the Auditor figured, this was different from Hank's average attacks. Things were more messy, so the unexpected was bound to happen.
Still, something didn't sit well with the Auditor.
"How did Hank kill Jeb?" he asked.
The agent rolled his shoulders in an apprehensive shrug.
"I wasn't here when it happened, but you might have better luck asking the agents sent to the infirmary. Or security footage."
The Auditor glanced at the Sheriff.
The idea of asking him ran across his mind, but as discreet as the Sheriff tried to be about it, he seemed inconsolable.
"Oh, we did find his halo," added the agent, "It's going to be preserved in the lab since its powers still seem to be active."
"Really now?" said the Auditor.
Again, he paused, rolling through all of the information he had been given.
By the time he had spoken again, the agent beside him had already grown used to the white noise between them.
"Bring the Sheriff to his room. Make sure he doesn't drink or do anything hasty," the Auditor ordered, "Have the security guards gather and review the tapes to see the damage. If anyone calls for me, I'll be in the lab."
"Yessir," said the agent as his higher-up made his way back to the elevator.
Deimos balled up the hospital gown and tossed it into the hamper with the precise stance of a basketball player. However, it only managed to hit the wall with a soft pat and slide to the floor.
Brynn pretended not to notice, and instead made tying her shirt into a snug knot seem like a more important task.
"Sorry our clothes don't really fit–" Deimos began to apologize.
"Don't worry about it. Anything's better than walking around in a bloody gown," placated Brynn.
The last thing she wanted to do after finally being treated with some decency after such horrible events was seem ungrateful.
The two had been cycling through different clothes to figure out which would fit her. If they didn't threaten to slip right off of her, they were practically suffocating her with their odd cuts. In the end, Brynn settled with using a large tank top and pants and tying them at the waist. She didn't even care if she looked silly with her wide pant legs tucked into her boots. There were much more pressing matters at hand.
"So 2B caught me up to speed on everything, how you're from an island outside of Nevada, how you're a political leader, all that good stuff," casually remarked Deimos.
"Did she tell you about how there were other royals with me when the plane crashed?"
"Oh yeah, that too. We were wondering if the agency has something to do with you getting separated from them."
Brynn gave a tense sigh. "They're probably taking refuge somewhere wondering where the hell I got whisked away to. What would the Double-A, H, I mean, ugh. What would the agency even want with me?"
"That's what we're trying to figure out," said Deimos, "They're only ever worried about Hank and being "the strongest military on earth". Kidnapping a random grunt who literally crash-landed here doesn't sound related to either."
"Who even is Hank?" Brynn asked, "I keep hearing her name around here."
"Our best friend." Deimos leaned against a locker and pulled out a cigarette from his shirt pocket, "Hey, wanna see a magic trick?"
That last question was added so quickly that Brynn almost didn't register what was said.
"Huh? What?" she asked.
Deimos snapped his fingers and a small flame formed above his thumb.
Brynn watched, speechless, as he brought the flame to the end of his cigarette.
When broken out of her stupor, she stammered, "Wait, d-did th–"
"Anyway, Hank's our best friend," Deimos proceeded, shaking the flame away from his hand, "Well, for 2B, he may be more than a friend, but you ain't hear that from me."
He took a moment to enjoy the bemusement on Brynn's face.
At least she wasn't tense and aggravated like before, he mused.
"Hank's, well, he's a little sick. There's been a sort of disease, I guess you could call it, that's been around for generations," explained Deimos, "It makes people mentally…unstable, and pretty violent. As far as we know, it's not contagious or inherited. It just seems to hit people."
The tension returned to Brynn's being, but Deimos was sure that she would have been in even worse shape if he hadn't cushioned their conversation with quips.
"So, is it all around this island? This disease, I mean?" asked Brynn, squaring her shoulders cautiously, "What do you all do to protect yourselves from it?"
Ignoring the assumption that Nevada was an island, Deimos said, "Well, without knowing what causes it, we don't know how to prevent it."
He could tell that was not the answer that Brynn was looking for, so he quickly added, "But listen, the city where Hank contracted it is far, far away, and A.A.H.W. has it quarantined–the one good thing they ever did–so even if it does turn out to be airborne or something, it's been sectioned off to that area alone."
"Does this mean the agency wants to capture Hank because she's a carrier?" Brynn asked.
"No, they've been on his tail before he even contracted Madness," said Deimos, shaking his head lightly, "Hell, they might even be the reason he's like this. If some high and mighty military decided to bully you for no reason, wouldn't you go a little crazy, too?"
"Y-Yeah, I guess so…"
Brynn's response was hollow. She wasn't even looking at Deimos anymore. Her gaze had fixed on a random spot in the locker room as the information digested in her mind.
"A disease that makes people violent…Madness. And that woman, Hank…she single-handedly slaughtered all of those armed guards…"
The sensation of the still-warm bodies and sticky blood under her bare feet dizzied her. Deimos was saying something, but Brynn didn't notice.
"That could happen to anyone here, right? They're not even fully sure if it's not contagious. Any moment, someone could just break in and decide to kill us. I could even contract it. The royals…"
Brynn nearly gasped when Deimos shook her shoulder. She was so lost in thought that he didn't notice the man cross the room towards her.
"Hey, hey, you're freaking me out, kiddo. Say something…!"
"Oh crap, sorry, I just…" Brynn shook her head with a stressed sigh, "I didn't hear what you said after the thing about the agency harassing Hank."
Deimos gave Brynn some space, "Nothing important. I was just asking if you were okay. You went quiet on me."
Okay?
Was it appropriate to call anything that happened throughout that day "okay"?
Fear and grief were threatening to collapse Brynn's being as the gruesome memories crept around the corners of her vision. Could she really say that she was okay?
"I'm fine," answered Brynn with a controlled breath, "And I'll be even better when I reunite with the royals and get back home."
Looks like Nevada and Hinamizawa have a lot in common.