Chapter 5

"Pliers." Dr. Cossack's voice is poison, his fury turning his face as red as his hair. "Wily used pliers, Thomas. On his own son ."

"I should have guessed from the damage," Dr. Light responds. His own horror is muted with a shame I know too well. This could have been foreseen. It could have been prevented.

We have all failed.

"How?" Cossack isn't done, his anger coming off him in waves. "I understand that egomaniac's need for control, I almost understand how his sick twisted mind could put a bomb in his own robot's chest, but this... How could it get this bad?"

"I don't know," Dr. Light says quietly. "The Albert I knew was.. Never a good person. I blinded myself to his faults, and it's led to this. I thought his affection for Proto Man was genuine, and if it wasn't, I thought… I hoped Mega's love for his brother would reach him before something truly bad happened."

"Hope does not make up for action," Cossack replies harshly. He sighs, his shoulders sagging. "But I understand. Had Blues been forced, he never would have been reached. Even now, I'm still not sure…"

"Healing takes time," Dr. Light says. "Mega won't talk about it, but he's also struggling. I want to help, but…"

"You cannot fix hearts like you can machines," Cossack muses.

"There are those who object to giving machines hearts to begin with," Dr. Light says sadly.

"I've seen Dr. Lalinde's lecture. It's gone viral, as they say," Dr. Cossack replies. "Do you regret it? Giving our children their own lives?"

"Never," Dr. Light says fiercely. "No matter what harm Wily has done, I have no regrets."

Cossack smiles wanly. "Agreed."

The conversation carries on, but I slip away. I don't follow Blues. I know where his hiding places are, but I also know when he needs to be alone. Instead I wander, caught up in my own thoughts, foolishly not paying attention to what part of the Citadel I'm in.

"Lurking again, Hikari?"

I stop, twisting my shadows around me, but no amount of hiding will cover for the fact that I've already been spotted. I step out from the darkness into gloom, the lights low, the speaker hidden among his own shadows.

"Ptolemy," I say cautiously. "How are you?"

"Unwell," Pharaoh Man answers. His armor has been partially removed, helmet and mask gone, revealing what Cossack must have thought matched regal Eqyptian features—light brown skin, hair curled tight against his scalp. His eyes gleam with an unnatural glow, but he only sits there, watching me. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"

"I had been hoping Cossack would make more progress," I mutter. I would call Pharaoh Man a friend, but only in his more lucid moods. Wily had broken him—on purpose originally and broken him further in carelessly putting him back together. Too dangerous to use as a weapon, too useful to be rid of, he had simply been locked away and forgotten.

I know that feeling too well.

"Cossack, no," Pharaoh Man replies. "His newest son, perhaps. Isn't it interesting, for a man to make both a weapon and a healer, as if expecting the combination to heal all trauma?"

"That man is your father," I say quietly. "And I do not judge."

"Oh, no, not you, Hikari," Pharaoh Man says, a note of amusement in his voice. "You merely watch. What revelations has your voyeurism brought?"

I've regretted telling Pharaoh Man the name I chose for my human guise since the moment I did it. It had been a whim, both the name and the reveal of it, a lesson learned too late about keeping certain secrets. The Cossack uses the name like a weapon, and I can't seem to regain the power I've placed in it.

"I'm not—" I sigh. "I take no enjoyment out of this, you know that. I am merely worried."

"About my brothers?" Pharaoh Man replied. "I doubt they'd be touched. Or perhaps, my sister…"

"Kalinka is a good person, and she does not deserve to suffer," I say quickly. "I do not intend your sister any ill, Ptolemy. I promise you that."

"You are not here for her," he says, his voice dropping. "You're here for the boy ."

I don't like the way the word twists in his mouth, like something foul and threatening.

"Oh, don't fret, Hikari," Pharaoh Man says to the look on my face. "I'm not allowed anywhere near the boy. I'm not allowed to talk about the boy, and I'm not allowed to yank that other eye out of his head as he screams. Much as I'd like to."

"He's not what you think," I say weakly. I don't know what to think of that threat. I try not to.

Pharaoh Man stands, towering over me, but I don't flinch. You cannot show him weakness, not when he's like this. It only enrages him. "So you have said, over and over. Yet what proof do you have? A few moments of kindness, few and far in between? Turning on a madman only after that madman turned on him first? I remain unconvinced."

"Hurt him and…" I clear my throat. "You'll break Kalinka's heart."

"Only her heart?" he asks, sitting back down. "I already told you not to fret. I won't break my kiska's heart. The boy will remain unbroken, by my hands at least."

"I'm sorry, Ptolemy," I say softly. "I should have done more. I…"

"You don't," Pharaoh Man says, narrowing his eyes at me. "You never do, Hikari. You wait, and you watch. That's all you do."

"Doing more has only made the situation worse," I say, wincing the moment I do. I bow, leaving before Pharaoh Man says anything else, hating the fact that he is right.

Notes: Just imagine Pharaoh Man looks like Rami Malek, and you'll be fine.