Twenty-seven: Silence
Characters: Mr. L

He waited in silence. It was so quiet, his ears were actually hurting from the strain of struggling to catch sounds that weren't there.

He fiddled with Brobot's remote, feeling uncommonly nervous. It was the place, he thought. There was literally nothing here. No noises, no people, barely even the scarcely scattered remains of buildings.

He put the remote away and began to pace, footsteps sounding unnaturally loud. He stopped quickly, increasingly becoming annoyingly aware of every sound he made. He was beginning to wish he could go home. The castle might have been similarly unicolored and oppressive, but at least there was the constant quiet roar of The Void in the background. At least there were people to find if you looked.

His stomach churned uncomfortably. This wasn't… This wasn't what they were hoping for, was it? Talking about world destruction was one thing, but this...this was madness. He didn't know what he wanted for a perfect world, but he at least knew he didn't like this. He shouldn't care, though… It wasn't his job to care. After all, it was only all the living creatures and people everywhere…

He shook his head, looking around in vain for a distraction. But there really was just nothingness. Dimentio had simply dumped him here, briefly explaining that The Void had been through here already. He had only to wait around for the heroes to return in search of what was left of the Pure Heart.

He could see it from here, a tiny stone in the distance. If he took it now and brought it to Count Bleck, it would mean the end for the heroes. But he really couldn't resist dangling their only hope under their noses before snatching it away. He would spring out from his hiding place at just the right time, and then he'd settle the score once and for all.

He tried to focus on that instead, letting anger fill him. He was determined never to lose again! There was no way they would beat him a second time, not with all the work he'd put into perfecting Brobot…and himself…

He couldn't seem to keep his thoughts from going down darker paths. He felt sick, the silence far heavier and more suffocating than anything he'd ever known. Swallowing thickly, he couldn't block out the booming sound of his blood pounding through his ears.

Some small part of him was drowning in despair. Everything was wrong, wrong, WRONG! This place, his mission, his enemies, himself oh Grambi who was he why was he doing this all those people everything gone himself lost confused who something was going to happen something bad to him he needed to scream cry his skin was crawling –

He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. Calm refused to come to him. He stood there trembling, his eyes filled with whiteness, staring and unable to process the lack of sensory information.

He really, really hoped the heroes would come soon, because he didn't know how much longer he could keep a hold of his sanity.

He shivered.