And finally..i'm back. It was rough, i had a major writing block, and re-starting with the school was harsh as fuck, a mess. But, i'm back, i won't abandon this work. So, here's "Chapter 8, Part 2". Review and Enjoy!
ENTRANCE OF THE SEWERAGE SYSTEM MANAGEMENT CENTER
A crowd of police cars had been placed all around the entrance, and the perimeter, of the facility, forming a wall of cars and policemen; the building was surrounded, no one could get out without finding himself in front of a row of guns.
As soon as the car was parked, William got out and ran immediately to the Chief Inspector to receive orders, together with the handful of officers that had gathered around him.
William: -Sir, what is the situation?-
Chief Inspector: -According to the workers who escaped and called us, an employee named Gilbert Mallet started attacking anyone who prevented him from entering the control room; we suspect that he wanted to tamper with the sewer system to release toxic substances into the drains. In simple terms: to poison the entire city.
And now the orders: we have already sent a recon team inside the building; all of you will stay here and be ready to open a warning fire when Mallet gets out, if he has a hostile approach; in case the recon team signals difficulties, you will go inside as reinforcements. In that case, be very careful: Mallet has been described with abnormal strength; I don't know how much I believe this story, but I would rather not risk losing half of the police force for taking lightly the situation. Everything clear?-
Officers: -Yes Sir!-
Chief Inspector: -Very well then! Take your positions and be ready until further notice!-
And while William was putting himself in his place, gun in hand, he was still thinking about what was happening on that day: first of the children who had disappeared into thin air, then a man of "abnormal strength" who wanted to poison all of Paris; and several days before that he was suffering from deja vu.
"I seriously need a couple of free days, or I'm not going to stop being paranoid..."
FOREST SECTOR
Jeremy: -Very well! Ulrich, Aelita, head to tower 4 to deactivate it; afterwards you will have to use it to teleport to the forest sector and protect others. And another thing: if you can avoid monsters rather than fight them, do it; the guys don't have much time inside the simulation.-
Aelita: -All right Jeremy, we'll be quick!-
Ulrich: -Hm.-
Jeremy: -Okay, I'll program the Overbike!-
And in few seconds, in the middle of a virtual Amazonian forest, made of trees so high that they overcame the clouds, in front of them materialized a motorcycle with a very futuristic shape, besides being with only one wheel.
There was not even need for a word: both got on the vehicle and left for the tower, untangling themselves with agility in that forest made of polygons and codes. In the end they had arrived in front of the tower, but with a particular suspicion: they had not met any monster to intercept them, and there were none near the active tower either.
Aelita: -Jeremy, we are in front of the tower, but there are no XANA monsters in the whole area. This thing bothers me...-
Jeremy: -It's true, the map doesn't show any hostile presence. Strange...-
Ulrich: -Then Aelita can deactivate the tower, while I stay outside to check it.-
Jeremy: -All right then. And remember, Ulrich: as soon as the tower is deactivated, go inside and jump downstairs; you will be both teleported to the mountain sector.-
Aelita: -All right -
Ulrich: -Copy that, Einstein.-
And as Aelita passed through the black wall of the active tower, Ulrich stood in front of it, the two unsheathed katanas ready to shred some XANA monsters. Which strangely enough did not happen. Either that artificial intelligence had suddenly become stupid, or there was something underneath it.
Aelita: -Jeremy, I deactivated the tower!-
Jeremy: -Good! Ulrich, what's the situation outside?-
Ulrich: -No XANA monster in sight!-
Jeremy: -Good, now get in the tower, and follow Aelita!-
Ulrich: -Okay!-
And with Ulrich entering the tower just deactivated, the forest sector became a silent place again.
MEANWHILE, MOUNTAIN SECTOR
Virtualization had been very fast; at the same time that Yumi, Odd and Maya put their feet on the ground, Odd's Overboard and Yumi's Overwing were ready to be used.
Yumi: -Come on Maya, climb up and hold on tight!-; there was room for two in the Overwing.-
Maya: -Alright.-
Once ready, they headed at great speed towards the active tower, clearly visible in the distance, south of their position. Until then, the route had been "quiet"; as much stress ran through their veins as blood, not a single XANA monster had been seen. Needless to say, the situation changed in a flash: a group of four bumblebees-like creatures were quickly flying towards their position, and they had already started to open fire.
Odd: -XANA gave us a flying welcome! - Turning the torso in the direction of the winged monsters and firing a barrage of three shots, scoring only one; in the meantime Yumi unloaded the sharp fans and, after warning Maya to hold on tight, proceeded to make a 180° turn with the Overwing, then launching the sharp fans and finishing off the three remaining hornets. By now they had reached the place where the tower was located, in the middle of a kind of natural yard, full of rocks and basins where any trap could hide.
Odd: -Okay, we've already reached the tower and XANA's monsters were a jo- -
It was interrupted by a series of shocks that had hit the Overboard, and then it was dematerialized and the cat man fell on the ground, and the same thing happened to Yumi and Maya: from the ravines halfway to the tower had come out two Tarantula, which with their cannon-zamps had targeted the virtual vehicles, like a military anti-aircraft.
Now all three Lyoko Warriors had just got up in the middle of the fray, and always from the same ravines three Block had appeared, which began to fire against the group; Yumi, while withdrawing the fans, pushed Maya in an empty hollow, so as to protect her from enemy gusts.
Jeremy: -Maya, stay there until Odd and Yumi shoot down the monsters; go to the tower only when it's safe! And hold on, Ulrich and Aelita are coming!-
Maya: -Ok dad!-, but it wasn't going well at all: Maya's mind was getting clouded in the terror of failure: what if they couldn't disable the tower and save the boys? What if XANA had something else in store in the real world, just when they couldn't act? She was almost starting to regret that she ended up in all of this.
EDWARD SIMULATION
That was a no-holds-barred duel: at that moment, at a very close distance, Edward was fighting to the best of his strength, using all possible techniques to try to defeat his opponent, but nothing: if he tried to launch himself in a flurry of cutting attacks, they were parried and counterattacked, forcing Edward to retreat; trying to disarm him through a game of wrist was impossible, because the opponent would immediately find the weakest point where to disarm the boy in turn, always forcing him to distance himself. There seemed to be no solution, the duel was continuing endlessly and in parity.
Now both duelists found themselves at a distance, and Edward was sweaty and full of bruises and superficial cuts, while he had not even managed to scratch his enemy.
-My my, boy, your problem is that you don't face your fear. Think about it: the way to hit me and win does exists, and the answer lies in the terms of the challenge. But: are you ready to accept it?-
-Shut up, XANA! It's easy to fight so well when you are an advanced artificial intelligence!-
-Do you still refuse to understand that XANA just called me back? I'm telling you once again: I am a part of you, and the only way out of this maze is to accept it and change it.-
-Damn you! What do you mean by"the answer lies in the terms of the challenge!?" And what fear is he talking about!? When have I ever backed down without a fight!?-
And it was at that moment that the train of understanding broke through Edward's brain: it was really enough to think for a moment about the conditions of victory of this duel to reach the enlightening but mortifying truth: "if you win you can choose two, but one will die; if you lose one chosen by me will survive, and the others will die. Or you can retire, but only you will live."; The fourth answer was present, heavy as a boulder, but there was.
Edward then, silent, put himself in position, blade pointing upwards, ready to go crazy and hope it works.
SYL SIMULATION
And so it was that the abyss, like a stain, began to move towards Syl, covering all the walls, the ceiling and the floor; in the air anyone could perceive the hostile intent of this shadow-like entity.
And she could do nothing but respond to the order given by her brain: to flee. She turned around and began a desperate race towards the men's dormitory, while the flashlight illuminated the street in front of her in a disorderly and frantic manner; she opened the door with an elbow and without thinking she immediately took the stairs leading upstairs, while the shadowy being was perceptible as a few steps behind her, chasing her with a predator's fury. While climbing the steps in a hurry, Syl stumbled for a second on the penultimate step, peeling her knee, but the adrenaline overcame the pain, making her get back on her feet immediately and then manage to pass through the two-leaf door that separated the stairs from the male corridor. Now she had to find Richard's room, hoping that he hadn't disappeared like everyone else.
She began a mad rush, where every meter Syl covered between herself and Richard's room was also gained by the entity of shadow, which permeated the entire building with its essence.
10 meters...5...3... 1 meter! So little was missing, and Syl, with a final momentum, opened the door wide to find the room...empty. Richard had also disappeared with the others; the terror of this discovery paralyzed Syl on the threshold.
-no...no...NO...!-
And before she could go any further, she felt something piercing through her back, which was pervaded by a feeling of freezing cold as Richard's chamber was filling with black; the entity had reached her, and pierced through like a spear. But one thing was certain: in her not being able to scream, Syl, her eyes closed by pain and fear, understood that this was nowhere near the end of this nightmare. Assuming that it was the case.
When she opened his eyes again, she found himself, intact, in a room all black, which seemed to have no distinguishable walls, nor a ceiling, nor reflections. An infinite space, but apart in the fabric of reality, a cold place that seemed so empty, but you could feel a presence, silent. A presence that frightened Syl, in that being a familiar entity...
The silence of that remote place was interrupted by two echoing sounds: that of the steps of boots, like on a marble floor, and that of a whistle: it was not a recognizable melody, but it gave a strong melancholic sensation; and that voice, that timbre...
Syl, up to that moment trembling like a leaf, turned around, trying to find the source of those sounds that were creeping into her brain: and that source identified itself as...herself? No... no, it wasn't her, though the surprising resemblance: the clothes were the same, but of a much darker color; the eyes were much duller, the look darker and... terrifying, and around her, that sort of double, vibrated a sort of strange aura; as if she was made of smoke, but at the same time, concrete and real.
-…-
-Welcome, Syl; although this is also your home, in a certain sense.-; the tone was mocking, as was the malignant look and smile on his face; like the image of a mirror that had decided to be the perfect, albeit reflected, copy of the original.
Syl: -...Wh-who...who are you?-
-Oh,don't you recognize me? I am the one who is closest to you of all, even our mother. Or perhaps I should say "mine", after all, it's the same, isn't it?-
Syl: -...what you are trying to tell me is that you are- -
-Your mind! Or rather, a part of it, crammed at the bottom but which, every now and then, always jumps out! Let's say that at this moment, "you are looking at yourself in the mirror".-
The young French girl didn't know what to think: it could all be a nightmare; but it was all too real and detailed to be a simple dream. So it was all real? But it was so hallucinating that it could not be plausible in the physical world; Syl assumed that it had to be a kind of middle ground, but the doubts were still too many to reach a conclusion. Meanwhile, she couldn't help but feel a sense of approval, or acceptance, of everything that that piece of her mind was saying, in "flesh and blood": the one who was convincing her was her own consciousness...more or less.
Syl: -...then give me a confirmation: is everything a dream? Or maybe...is it real?-
Mens: -As we thought, it's a middle way: it's not real in the sense that we are not in the everyday physical world, but it's not even a simple dream. It is a sort of space apart, a sort of simulation. Just because it's happening in your head, it doesn't mean it's not real...-
Syl: -..simulation...you mean...like on Lyo- -
Mens: -Not really, there are a couple of important differences; and before you can try to guess, I'm going to give you the answer: no, I'm not XANA. Or rather, he just brought you here. We are doing the rest. Anyway, this is not a real virtual world: both because the whole Lyoko system doesn't exist here...and because you are not an avatar. You are the real you, human and mortal.-
That last word was another wound for Syl, even more glacial than the whole situation...
Syl: -...mortal? Are you telling me that here I can - -
Mens: -Die, that's right. This place doesn't just make you live such a real nightmare, it slowly drains your brain energy until you receive a lethal shock to your neurons and synapses.-
This revelation had been the coup de grace: realizing that death was slowly approaching, Syl started to cough repeatedly, risking to vomit. She trembled, while her brain, unconsciously processing Mens and all this "dream", was thinking about how, and especially if she could, to get out of this situation.
Mens: -Well, we are not just here to chitchat. Rather, get ready to take a little trip: we are about to revisit places we have forgotten for a long time...-
Syl's fragment of mind snapped his fingers, making the sound echo throughout the room. In front of Syl's eyes in the flesh appeared a kind of gash, as if someone had cut a canvas with a knife. Mens grabbed that strip of matter with his fingers, and pulled it out, thus tearing a large "flap of cloth", which had formed a sort of white window with rough edges. The sound of the tear had led Syl to cover her ears in excruciating pain. Taking her hands away, once that horrible sensation had passed, she saw them stained with blood.
In the meantime the white gash, like a cinema screen, slowly began to form lines, which crossed, became doodles and took on complex shapes, flowing and dripping as if they were ink. The more time passed, the more Syl realized that a sharp image was forming, which gradually took on animation: first the walls formed, then the desks, the sketches of the people, the details...the arrangement of the chairs, the hair colors of the crowd of kids, who crowded in front of a desk...this was a " movie" that Syl had already seen, and in many replicas. And it was a film that terrified her, that she hated, that she had buried away in a corner of her mind. Until now...
The girl tried to turn around and look away, anticipating what she would see, but it didn't work: Mens and the "screen" magically teleported to where Syl would look, and closing her eyes was a thousand times harder than keeping them open. A scene worthy of Stephen King, though even more surreal.
Mens: -6th grade, do you remember it? We weren't going to the Kadick yet, we didn't have the Lyoko and XANA problem...but we got out of there, and I think you'll remember the reason...-
In that black and white screen a small crowd of children, a quarter of the class, had gathered, almost in a circle, around a single bench. Laughter and laughter was a general buzz...but it wasn't fun, oh no: it was pure nastiness. And the image passed to frame the little girl who was the object of the shouting, while another blonde girl was pulling her hair and the little crowd was throwing insults and teasing. If the blonde was the "queen bee" of a class of sixth grade kids, and the one who was in the middle, sitting at her desk, a voluminous book in her hand...was Syl at eleven years old. She didn't have a braid yet and she had smaller and less eye-catching boots, but otherwise she was herself, with tears threatening to spill from her eyes like waterfalls, and a broken spirit.
Syl: -No..no, I had forgotten it...I-I had it...taken it away...from my head...-
The impulse to cry, repressed, at the sight of that memory, made her sobbing at every word.
Mens: -Often children know how to be more wicked than certain adults: they are shameless and do not fully know their dignity; it is easy for them to mock, as they have done with us. You were that particular one, who was always glued to the pages, those few times that someone had spoken to you, you were already as cold in personality as you were until this September...but now the best part comes...-
The umpteenth pull of hair was the drop that broke the camel's back of the eleven-year-old Syl, making her turn around and throw the book against the face of the blonde, as if the tome was a sledgehammer. The "queen bee" of the class fell to the ground, spurting blood from her nose, which had also ended up on Syl's clothes. The latter had taken her first look of contempt towards the people around her, only to then make her way and run away.
The scene then changed a second time: now she was portraying the school's girls' bathroom, squalid and clean as little as necessary. Three people were intent on kicking a person, and Syl was the victim: the first beating she received in her life; the shoes and fists of the "torturers" ferociously hit her chest, stomach and legs, to avoid leaving more obvious marks on her face; Syl's tears were enough and advanced for the trio of bullies.
Syl: -Please...do...make it stop...- Every word was interrupted by a hiccup and a tear, in systematic pain.
Mens: -This didn't ended well, at all. While the school was washing its hands of it, the bully's insult caused a chain reaction: small thefts, more frequent insults..and of course physical violence. Since those days you had begun to cut off any interaction outside the family. They were the only ones who seemed to love and support you in everything. You didn't need the other people, capable only of hurting people or ignoring them. The family was the only thing that kept you up and that you thought you needed to be well...and you were definitely lucky, because you risked losing that too...-
A third scene was created on the screen, overwriting the previous one: now the white gash depicted a comfortable sofa located in a nice living room; sitting there, hugged, there were Syl and her mother. You could also hear their dialogue echoing clearly throughout the space in which Syl and Mens were sitting today.
-Mom, is it true that you are going to die? The doctor said that it is possible that it is at a serious stage...-
-Sylvian, don't worry about that, it takes more than that to separate me from you. I will be fine, and i will always be there for you: me, your father, your sister...we will not abandon you..-
-Promise it mum... because I only have you; I can't trust anyone outside...-
-Don't say that: first of all you are stronger than you think, like your mother; and then the world is not divided into black and white. I promise you that when you change schools and go to the Kadick college, you will make friends there. And maybe you will find someone who will love you as much as we do, if not more.-
-Are you sure about that, mom?-
-A hundred percent, sweetheart...-
Syl: -..why...why are you showing me all this?-
Mens: -Because I am your doubt: are you sure you want to continue fighting XANA? To risk your life and try to save the world? What if you lose your family? Then you would have nothing left...-
Syl: -You are wrong! My mother was right: I found other people to care about: the old Lyoko Warriors,Edward, Maya...Richard- -
Mens: -pffHAHHAHHA! Really? The old Lyoko Warriors? You meet them more when you have to fight XANA than anywhere else; You don't meet with Edward and Maya alone, but always in group... and Richard, hahaha! Do you really still love him? What did he do that is so special, saving you from almost certain death on Lyoko? What do you think, that he would do that only for you? He would have done it for anyone; in fact, whose fault is it that you now have to risk your life?-
Syl: -...what!?-
Mens: -Come on, haven't you understood that? Richard works himself to death in Lyoko because he feels responsible for all this: he reactivated the supercomputer, and gave XANA a chance to come back, to mess with your life, forcing you to risk losing it, because of his mistake. That's why he ignored you when you cried and called him: he doesn't want to see you and feel the burden of the responsibility he has placed on your shoulders. He is like a dirty rat that runs away, climbing up in his hole... -
Syl: -Shut up! You are telling only lies! Richard actually cares about all of us. He is the person who first came looking for me, after going back in time! He risked collapsing because of all the effort he put in to protect us!-
Mens: -Mhh..all right, you've got a point there. But now let's see one last "movie", in real time. Who knows, maybe you'll change your mind and you will not desire to see Richard in your life anymore; after all, about what you're going to see.. he's only doing it for you...his last great undertaking.-
Syl: -What are you talking about?-
Mens: -Now you'll see.-
Slowly the gash was creating a new image, only this time it was in color...
23 RUE PARCHAPPE, FOURTH FLOOR
A bare apartment, old and badly kept, between yellowed walls and barely decent furniture. And what's more, it was located on the fourth floor of a building without elevator, so you had to climb all the stairs; but those who lived there were certainly not a couple of students who started working as waiters, in a cheap restaurant. This one, like a couple of other apartments in the building, was a small "base" for a group affiliated with the Russian mafia; in particular this gang was in charge of running heroin through the streets, sending part of the earnings to their Chief.
And in this apartment, more precisely in a small and messy room, among suitcases full of drug packages and a few pistol magazines scattered on the undone bed, there were two men of the gang, which followed a specific dress code: a pastel white suit. While one was counting a bunch of bills, the other was smoking a homemade cigarette, with a meditative air, as if he was thinking of something complicated to process.
-What do you think?
-Huh?-
-I say, what do you think about what the boss did? I mean, okay they were too nosy, but he still blew the heads off four kids.-
-I say who snoops around and knows things he shouldn't, ends up bad. Millions of kids die in worse ways, those four brats are just one more statistic. Anyway, do you know where Dusek is? I seem to remember he had some stuff to bring here.-
-I just know he should have been here about this time. And he'd better hurry up, because from what I know he's got a big load of stuff. -
The duo's conversation was abruptly cut short by the sound of a car alarm, as when they were rammed. It was a loud enough sound to overwhelm the voices of the two gangsters, but it was a sound that ended in a few seconds.
The smoker rushed straight to the window on his left to check what the hell was going on outside; there weren't many cars parked there.
-Blyat, if I find out that Dusek hit my car for the third time...-
Lucky for him Dusek had not crashed his car, because he was already dead: he was lying badly on the asphalt, with his legs inside the car, the rear trunk open, and blood, so much blood that it had formed a puddle on the asphalt, surrounding Dusek's head, dirtying his white suit.
The smoker, in the grip of terror and adrenaline, did not remain staring at the corpse four stories down, but immediately took a magazine from the bed and inserted it into his Glock, walking quickly towards the front door, shouting orders in Slavic language, roughly translated as "stay here and prepare the weapons". In the meantime the other guy had stopped counting the bills and had started to see what the hell there was to see outside the window; at the same time two other gangsters were in the living room, sitting on a worn out couch without a pair of springs, intent on dividing the heroine on a small table, who were caught off guard by the orders received.
In the end the smoker opened the main door, making to get out and rushed down the stairs: he didn't even have time to see that there was a person in front of him, since he was immediately hit by a loud bang in the ears, and then fell down like a sack of potatoes. He didn't even realize he had a dark red hole in his sternum, and he couldn't hear the casing falling, now lighter, on the floor.
If he could have seen his killer's face, he would have found himself in front of Richard Allen, even though he didn't know him. Or rather, certainly it was his body: the same clothes, the same jacket pierced by a bullet, splashed with freshly shed blood...but two things were new: his neck was wearing the medallion that had saved his skin, and his gaze...was so sterile, so expressionless and glassy, that someone might have thought that inside his head there was some kind of bloodthirsty spirit, that he was manoeuvring all his brutal actions.
With a SAIGA-12 automatic shotgun, complete with bayonet, between his arms, Richard took a couple of steps forward, breathing the air now filled with burned gunpowder, blood, and tension; all the other men were still as statues as they heard the gunshot and their comrade's body dropped to the ground, stone dead.
That moment of silence was broken by the "courage" of the man who was counting the money, all proud of his pieces of paper. He suddenly appeared from the corner, his gun pointed in the hallway, and began firing a series of shots, trying to hit Richard. The intent, despite his trembling hands, was successful: the boy, while trying to return fire, felt his left shoulder being pierced by the bullet, only to burn with atrocious pain. In this way Richard stumbled to the ground, colliding against the wall, and due to the recoil of the rifle, one shot smashed the lamp on the ceiling.
The gangster was ready to empty the rest of the magazine on that insane, demonized fool of a boy, but while it was raining glass shards on the floor, Richard had managed to aim and unload three rounds of the magazine on the man, with poor accuracy. But he, too, managed to hit the mobster: while the walls and the few pieces of furniture became a sieve, the mobster heard a painful jolt of noise in his ears, and his sight became clouded. His right ear had been blown off in an explosion of blood, and for this reason he unwittingly threw away his gun in the middle of the hallway and, with both hands, he tried to blunt his disability as he fell to the ground in pain, screaming like a junkie in abstinence.
In the meantime Richard had got back on his feet, enduring the excruciating pain in his shoulder, and fired another shot, sending the rose of bullets towards the ankle of the gangster on the ground, while he dragged himself to the shelter, as if he were a live worm but cut in half.
Panting for the effort Richard advanced in slow steps, but remained still next to the wall that preceded the entrance to the living room, on his right. In there, while a man held his gun pointed toward the corridor, using the table as a painful shelter, the second gangster had no weapons with him, and at the sight of his companion's gun, now in the middle of the corridor floor, he could not resist the impulse to run for it. He was almost there, he could already feel that 9mm caliber confidence in his sweaty hand...but the desire was shattered like his ribs, broken by the bayonet of Richard's rifle, which had remained behind him to stab him through the heart, in a perfect ambush.
When the man behind the coffee table started to shoot in panic, he only managed to make so many holes in his partner's body, as Richard managed to turn it over and use it as an improvised shelter. The mobster's gun suddenly jammed, and while he was trying to slide the trolley, while swearing, he found himself under a wave of bullets pattern, which turned him into a pile of cartilage and bones, while the table had broken on his only leg, pouring the heroin on the ground, making it dilute in blood.
The unhooking of the empty magazine of Richard's SAIGA-12 seemed to have marked, at least for the moment, the end of the gunfight. Although massacre was perhaps a more appropriate term, for the rawness and the fact that none of the gangsters had managed to bring down that monster in the guise of a fourteen year old boy.
Panting and trying to breathe again, Richard went to check the kitchen. While he dropped the heavy Russian rifle on the floor,his right hand went immediately to the belt of his pants, thus extracting his second weapon found in the first victim's car: a Mateba 6 Unica revolver, an Italian weapon with a decidedly futuristic design and low recoil.
He had entered a very simple kitchen: on the right the worktop, including slightly dirty and dated stoves; on the left instead there was a table enough for four people, above which there was an almost empty bag of heroin, a crumpled pack of cigarettes and an open bottle of kvass.
But the most interesting element for Richard's mind was a door at the far right of the room; it was probably the pantry and maybe someone had hidden there, crouching, trying to escape from death.
And the boy hadn't noticed a presence behind him: Richard found himself caught from behind, his throat being blocked by the rifle he had previously dropped to the ground. The man whose ear had previously been blown off had crawled silently, and now he was trying to slide Richard's throat towards the SAIGA bayonet. Caught unawares, he had let go of the revolver, and now, with less and less breath, he was trying to push him towards the workbench, crashing into it, trying to free himself.
He felt more and more that he was suffocating, the bayonet was getting closer and closer to his throat, while he could smell the sweat and blood of the mobster, who grunted in his efforts to kill Richard. The latter, however, in a second burst of adrenaline, managed to take the rifle from the barrel and create enough room for himself to escape and stick the bayonet straight into the groin of the gangster; no more fucking for that man...
It was so painful that the mobster let Richard go, only to fall to the ground a second time, hands to the remains of his mangled member, while his screams sounded almost like the roars of a raging lion. Richard had left the rifle again, and with great speed, he had taken the revolver that had fallen to him, and without thinking twice, fired a single shot straight at the gangster's head, which exploded like a watermelon, smearing the floor and the opposite wall with blood, brains and pieces of the skull.
Once he lowered his revolver, and found that there was no soul left in that apartment, Richard seemed to have come to his senses, or at least as he was before all this: he bent over the floor, vomiting his bile due to the physical and mental stress caused by the massacre. A glimmer of humanity, expressed in that acid liquid, while his nostrils were filled with the smell of blood and guts hovering in that squalid apartment.
Feeling his stomach crumpled, Richard stood up after a few minutes, catching his breath. He could neither cry out nor despair at the carnage that had just taken place...because there was one last person to settle the score.
Without looking back, Richard walked out of the apartment and turned to the stairs upstairs, but he froze. At the top of the stairs was him: same goatee, same hair. He was the one who had captured all four of them. He had killed Maya and Edward. He had tried to kill him. He had killed Syl.
Richard tried to take aim and put an end to this story, but he had not been fast enough, as he found himself hit by an Uzi machine gun. The force of the shots and the pain that slowly burst in his riddled chest pushed him towards the wall, where he slowly collapsed as he left a series of small crimson red trails on the wall.
The view was deteriorating, almost like an old cassette showing his glitches. He was about to go to his death, without having been able to finish the task, without having been able to do anything. They were all dead...it was all over...
CENTRAL SEWERAGE MANAGEMENT SYSTEM
"We have entered the pipeline management corridor, we should soon reach the control unit... HEY! Stop right there, put your hands in the air or we will be forced to open fire! Stop, I said...CALL FOR REINFORCEMENT, NOW! STAY AWAY FROM ME! AAAhrgh!..."
Then the radio broadcast the sound of gunfire and the screams of terror from the policeman, only to return in silence.
William and the rest of the team had raided the building as soon as reinforcements were called for, and now he was right inside that room full of pipes, valves and steam, while the red light that sounded the alarm radiated down that corridor. It reminded William of the boiler room at the Kadick, a seemingly discreet place, but hiding something much bigger than all of them.
While a trembling hand was placed at the holster, ready to pull out his gun, and the collar of his uniform was now soaked in sweat due to the tension of the policeman, he walked slowly over the grate on the floor, trying not to make noise. That recording had upset him so much that he was convinced that he was not a simple criminal...but something much more monstrous. And no one wants to attract monsters to themselves.
William found himself in what was a T-junction: in front of him the sign marked the direction towards the control unit, while on his right the corridor continued and then turned left. He decided to take the first direction seen, this time at a faster pace; he could not allow that man to contaminate the sewerage system of the city.
In front of him the iron door that would lead him to his destination was closer and closer...but his vision soon changed, since a great force took him from behind and threw him on the wall full of pipes, which immediately deformed due to the impact, letting out strong steam flakes from the joints. A knotty hand was twisting his neck, taking his breath away. His tearful eyes saw with horror the face of the now possessed Gilbert Mallet, foam at the mouth, gnashed teeth...and those eyes...the pupils!
"No...NO NO NOT POSSIBLE! IT MUST ALL BE A NIGHTMARE! He can't have come back, he can't have come back!..."
From panic came the adrenaline: William, while he was suffocating more and more in that deadly grip, tried to stretch his arm out toward the holster, with all of his strength: the goal was to be able to shoot him, to hurt him just enough so that he could free himself and return to breathing. His breath was getting shorter and shorter, his throat was imploding with pain, and all his strength was concentrated in a single gesture, in that one hope of survival...
MOUNTAIN SECTOR
Yumi's fans were vibing like her wrists, as she swirled them to parry the shots from the Blocks, which were firing in intense bursts, like a machine gun. On the other side Odd was intent on jumping in the air like a cat, while avoiding the cannon shots of five tarantulas; three others had jumped out, just at the wrong time. They were surrounded by the enemies, and alone they could not hold for long, while Maya remained hidden and helpless.
One of the two blocks, however, seemed to turn his gaze elsewhere, behind him: in an instant he found himself sliced in half, by a figure running at high speed, which had just passed him...and his fate touched his companions too: as they say, "the cavalry has arrived", and in fact now there were three Ulrich in front of everyone. Aelita meanwhile was followed in the queue, and from her hands appeared two pink globes, made of pulsating energy, which were thrown on two out of five tarantulas. At that very moment Odd, who was in the middle of a jump, took the opportunity to fire a laser shot at the third spider-shaped monster, while Yumi threw her fans, bringing the number of XANA monsters to zero.
Maya, seeing how the situation had turned in their favor, immediately came out of hiding, running to hug her mother, to seek some comfort from all that tension.
Aelita: -It's okay, Maya. You're safe now.-
Jeremy: -That was close! Now we can deactivate the tower and save the kids!-
Aelita: -I'm going to activate the Lyoko Code right now!-
As she was released from her mother's embrace, she suddenly had an unusual feeling: something bad was about to happen right now...
Maya -...No! TAKE COV- -
His warning never reached his friends' ears, because they were immediately struck by two beams of red energy, which crossed each other. Without them being able to perceive the looming threat, they were all devirtualized at once. All except Maya, who found herself in front of her and behind her two tanks, which rolled in their spherical form. They opened in two, showing their red innards, with XANA's eye pulsing, ready to strike the fatal blow on the poor girl.
Jeremy: -MAYA GET OUTTA THERE NOW!-
Her father's warning was vain: fear had made Maya's legs solid; because she knew that she could not escape for long enough, nor enter the tower in time, nor fight. She was at the mercy of two monsters, in a virtual world, and her three friends would die in their nightmares...what a sense of helplessness.
"No..no, it can't be that way...I DO NOT WANT EVERYTHING TO FINISH IN THIS WAY!"
He closed his eyes and a heartrending scream pervaded the entire Mountain Sector, rumbling among the rocks, while the two monsters fired the last two fatal shots...directed to themselves: while they were being devirtualized, Maya still had her eyes closed, as if not to see the death in the face, but it did not come. When she opened them again, she realized she found herself in a dome that was not there before: it seemed to be made entirely of glass, whose rough surface was like a multitude of mirrors, which deformed what could be seen beyond.
Maya: -But what...what happened? - She had remained motionless and incredulous in trying to understand how that glass dome had appeared, as it dissolved into thousands of pixels.
Jeremy: -I don't know how it was possible...but you created it!-
The girl was looking at her virtual hands, amazed to think that she used a power that was different from inserting a code. Maybe she was no longer a burden for the group, made only to be protected...
Jeremy: -What are you waiting for Maya, enter the tower!-
Re-awakened by her thoughts, Maya staggered to the tower, almost breaking through the black wall to get to the central platform. She was soon hovering in the air, faster than usual, as if the tower itself was responding to her will. When she reached the top, she pressed her hand firmly on the screen, hoping to be still in time to save her friends...
MAYA
CODE LYOKO
CENTRAL SEWERAGE MANAGEMENT SYSTEM
Just when William's hand was at its highest tension, the grip on his neck losened itself, like a sort of mechanical pincer. The policeman fell to the ground, coughing and inhaling as much air as he could, massaging his red neck for the grip. After that moment of breathing, William did not hesitate and, pulling the gun out of its holster, fired a direct shot at Gilbert Mallet's leg, which immediately collapsed to the ground screaming in pain and babbling unintelligible words; except for one small phrase:
-GET OUT OF MY HEAD!, Aargh! Go away, you monster!-
After what he had seen in that man's eyeballs, William shuddered even more when he heard that phrase, which seemed to confirm his greatest fear. He swore that he had seen the symbol of XANA in the eyes of that worker.
But he did not have time to say or do anything else, not even to warn the other policemen, listening on the transceivers, that a numbness feeling hit him all over his body, from his legs to his head. His eyesight became clouded until it became dark, and then he lost consciousness for good.
EDWARD SIMULATION
Edward began to advance towards his opponent, chest out, without any apparent fear, his gaze fixed on that sort of black knight. With his right hand he twirled his saber, strong of a new and unexpected vigor that pulsated inside him, while he came against the enemy, until the two points touched. At that moment the boy began to deliver a series of blows, of increasing speed.
One step to the right, side blow; two fast blows, dodging, exchange, lunge, parrying, retreat...every action was performed by Edward and defeated by his adversary. The duel seemed to turn into a sort of dance, while the frenzy increased and the blades became indistinct shadows.
Edward finally saw a last lunge trusted from the black knight, and so there was an open gap in his defenses. It was time to put that crazy plan into practice and settle the matter once and for all: instead of deflecting the blow, he let his stomach being hit, without giving any cry of pain while his guts were pitilessly pierced by the cold steel, and his breath became short.
The boy took with his left hand the enemy blade, now trapped between his bowels, and with all the strength that had remained in his arms and legs, he leaned forward to direct a last lunge to the head of the black knight. There was no blood on his part, nor moans. However, he had become motionless, like a lifeless statue.
Edward: -...here is my answer: we have won...both of us. I can choose two people to save, and you...nghh...a third one. My friends are alive, but I am the one who is dying. And you know what, I'm fine with that, Edward!
He stops panting, to catch his breath, before returning to speak to that figure. Or rather: to himself, in the form of that figure.
-I've just realized that I had duelled against myself and my fear of dying: I took this story too lightly. Saving the world, getting into a computer, having powers...it almost seemed like a game, it all seemed so easy, and I didn't understand how others, especially Richard, could be so upset. But today I understood: we can't know how it will end, and I must be ready to accept the idea that I, and my friends, could die in all of this.
And I accept it!-
With this last sentence the black knight and his sword ceased to exist, vanishing like fog all over the moor. Edward's wound remained, however, and the latter turned his eyes, being struck by the rays of the sun: from sunset it had become dawn, painting the tall grass of an increasingly golden color.
Edward then fell to the ground, while the light entered his eyes. Was he really dying? Would he see his friends again, perhaps on the other side? Who knows. But one thing was certain: he didn't feel he was going to heaven. He remembered that place to be immersed in a white light, and not neon-like yellow...
SYL SIMULATION
Syl, in that gash that gave on another reality, could see what she could never have imagined. Her eyes were so horrified by those bloody images, but she could not detach them.
He couldn't believe that Richard was doing this: it had to be a trick of his mind, it certainly was. Otherwise he would not have been able to explain why her beloved boy was making a massacre in the first place. Syl saw him helplessly watching them being executed by those criminals, and watching herself die. She saw how Richard exterminated them without mercy, while blood and dust accumulated in that kind of butcher's shop. And finally, Richard was shot to death, as he crawled against the wall, his body filled with bullets.
Mens: -You see? All he needs is a vision where you die, and for you he is capable of carrying out a similar slaughter. For God's sake, the doctors were right: he is a madman in full force. Perhaps he is also a little bit sadistic, who knows...-
That last image had been the breaking point: now Syl had left herself to tears for despair. She no longer knew where she was, whether in reality or in her sick head. She was afraid of everything at that moment, even Richard in some ways; she had never imagined him being so bloody.
But the corners of her eyes could perceive something: in that black space, behind her, there was something bright...a yellow light, slowly growing both in size and intensity, swallowing up the whole room.
Syl had turned around to see it, and in doing so, she stopped crying. The fear, the terror, all this seemed to dissolve just seeing the light, as if it entered inside her body, warming it. Everything was replaced by one and only one action: Syl hurled herself against the projection of her mind, and without delay, she squeezed both hands on her neck, putting all the strength she had in her arms, at the cost of tearing a muscle. Mens began to wheeze, while trying to untangle Syl's fingers, without succeeding. They were an iron grip.
Syl: -Listen carefully. If you think that all this makes me change my mind about Richard, or that it makes me pull back, you are wrong! I will stay with my friends, and I will fight XANA, no matter what the cost. And don't think that I will stop loving Richard, even if he comes to reject me, I have chosen to always be there for him. And I don't need a reason to love someone!-
Mens' breath became more and more rarefied, while the yellow light swallowed more and more the black space, almost giving a sort of aura around the figure of Syl.
-And now you, my doubts and my fears...GET LOST!-
And with a last rarefied breath, Mens' body fell to the ground, as if dead. Slowly, however, it melted to the floor, similar to a black slurry. At this moment, Sylviane Cellier's mind had changed.
By now the light had occupied almost all of that large room, except for that small gash that gave on another reality, where Richard was lying dead, in his attempt to avenge his companions. Syl was panting heavily for the effort. But she could not take her eyes off the corpse of that person whom she, without any precise reason, had decided to love more than she loved her few new friends.
She felt however that her body was becoming lighter and lighter: maybe she was returning to reality, like after a long nightmare? Or was that part of her mind right, and she would soon die? Either way, she only had one last moment to say a word to that bullet-riddled body.
-..please...I know you can, so do it for everyone. Do it for me...
..survive..-
RICHARD SIMULATION
Death was a very strange thing: itseemed to be a kind of limbo, in which the whole world around it seemed to have gone into a pause, like in a CD playback.
To interrupt this strange oblivion, in which Richard's mind lay, about to go to the other side, there was an echo...no a voice: it was slowly repeating itself, becoming almost a mantra, an order. And that voice, that tone, that word, he had already heard it.
"survive...survive...survive..."
"Survive"
That command restored the little life force that was left to it: the heart slowly returned to beat, more and more vigorous. His eyes became clear again, and his right leg bent, to start pushing him to his feet, using the wall as a support for his back. Soon his arms and hands returned to respond to his commands, and his body was finally able to stand upright. He looked up towards the stairs, so that he could observe the man, who at that moment had been petrified by what he was seeing happening in front of his eyes.
-N-Niet! It's not possible, I emptied a magazine! How can you be alive!?-
And slowly, while his hand was still holding the revolver, Richard gave his answer.
-Ka-
In just three seconds, without the criminal, the bastard who had taken away all those he felt affection for, being able to blink, the six strokes of Mateba, fast as shrapnel and thundering like a thunderstorm, went into his body one by one, drawing crimson circles on his white jacket, which gradually became soaked in his own blood.
The Russian mobster did not even breathe his last words, but simply fell down the stairs, stiff as wood, stopping at Richard's feet.
Richard dropped his weapon, closed his eyes, and took a long breath. His muscles loosened, his irises relaxed. He almost seemed to have returned to himself, as if awakened from a sort of trance. And finally he could reflect.
Whether it was the whispering of a ghost, or his consciousness reminding him of her, Syl had asked him to survive, for others and for her. And the promise was kept; he had avenged them all.
When he opened his eyes again, to contemplate the reality in which he had nothing left, he no longer saw the apartment, the bleeding bodies, the bullet casings. Now he was in a totally different place: a tunnel, similar to a railway station underpass, whose walls were covered with brightly colored graffiti, almost fluorescent, while on the "ceiling" the lamps illuminated the whole place.
-What the hell?-
Looking at himself, he noticed that his appearance had also changed: the jacket, like the rest of the clothes, was now intact, without any bullet hole or blood stain. He no longer felt the pain of the blows he had received, and more importantly, he was no longer wearing the medallion that Syl had given him. Richard felt his chest and searched all his pockets, but found it nowhere.
-End of the nightmare, lad!-
He raised his head, snapping it towards the source of that voice, which echoed clear throughout the tunnel. The person who found himself in front of it was nothing less than a carbon copy of himself, in everything but one detail: his jacket was tied to his waist, showing off his black blue plaid shirt. He had a serene, calm look, as if he was in a familiar place that he knew well.
-...Am I crazy or am I dead?- he mumbled between himself and himself, incredulous of what was appearing before his eyes.
-You came out of an illusion. In some ways, yes, you can be considered dead, in that reality.-
-I hate it when they don't explain things to me, so let's go in order: who are you?-
-A mirror that is too realistic? Come on, you're a smart guy, you already know the answer.-
-...you are...me?-
-If by "me" you mean your conscience, psyche, or anything that comes from your head, then yes.-
-...really? Well then, since, according to you, I am you and you are me...do your job and give me clarification.-
-Well, then follow me; it will be a long way down.-
They began to walk, side by side, like a sort of long-time brothers; Richard, the more confused one at least, kept staring at the other one, waiting for him to start giving an explanation. No matter how sick his mind felt, there would be something real, right?
-Simply put, XANA kidnapped us and forced us to live in a kind of realistic nightmare.-
-You mean as realistic as Lyoko?-
-In a way, the concept is the same.-
-So you're telling me that everything I did, everything I saw...didn't really happen?-
-That's right. So you can relax: they are all alive. Soon you can go back to making fun of Edward, to copying Maya's homework...and also to solving the matter with a certain girl with purple hair.-
-Okay, you said what I needed to hear, let's not go any further.-
-Why?-
-Because I don't want to talk about it, I have something else to think about.-
-You know, it's easier to lie to Mr. Belpois...-
-Okay, look, explain to me, why do you keep thinking about it?!-
-I can ask you the same thing, after all, we are the same thing.-
-...Fuck you-
-Don't get rid of me like this, it doesn't work.-
-…-
-You know it as I know it: you're in love. Like most people in this world..-
-I asked you for explanations, not philosphy-degree bullshit.-
-So Syl doesn't interest you? Is she a friend like the others?-
-I didn't say that.-
-Because you don't think that. Come on, think about it: who is it that you have saved from death several times? For whom have you had a finger cut off to prevent the same thing from happening to her head? For whom, first of all, after the Return to the Past, did you stop your research about XANA, only to prevent her from being beaten to a pulp, feeling guilty for ignoring her in the past?-
-You already know the answer, don't you? What do I need to answer you for...-
-Yes. Sylviane Cellier. Oh, yes, you're also working your ass off for everyone, depriving yourself of sleep and mental health, in order to finish this story that you started. And that you never desired to take part: am I right or not?-
-…-
-"Who keeps silent consents, so let me explain why you act the way you usually do, avoiding others when you can.
You think you are a burden, and a sort of calamity: you feel you have ruined fifteen years of your mother's life, just being born with what, according to the medical record, would only an "instinctive, destructive behavior, in situations of extreme tension, anger or danger"; I don't see the words "crazy sociopath" anywhere. But your mother ran away anyway, and you think it is completely because of you.
Unwittingly, you have awakened an Artificial Intelligence out of control, which every day threatens to destroy the whole world. Three other kids were involved, and you feel responsible for ruining their lives, forcing them to fight a war they never asked for, like you.
That's why you try to avoid them; that's why you ignored that call, that's why you pulled your head at your best friend. You are afraid of ruining relationships with all the people you have feelings for, whether they are friends or more. But even if you try to push them away from you, you can't help but try your best for them, because you feel the burden of your choice to reactivate the supercomputer. But you don't want to see the consequences of your actions.
And all of this, Richard, is definitely useless: you have not ruined anyone's life, and you are not held responsible for anything. Edward, Maya, Syl, Mr. Belpois and all the old Lyoko Warriors: they could have backed out, run away, not getting so involved. But it was they who decided to stay by your side, until the end. They are risking their lives for you and for all of them, and they chose it.
So, having established that your paranoia is useless, let me ask you one more question: why, besides your friends, do you go out of your way, so much, just for Syl?-
His mind had just come up with a monologue that had put Richard, literally, back against the wall: their walk had stopped and the boy was leaning against the semicircular wall of the tunnel, his gaze vacuous, without arguing or evading the subject. Because you can't deny at all what you say to yourself. It is useless.
-...Because she is the only person who takes care of me, most of them all: she is the one who forced me to go down to the cafeteria when I was working too much on XANA; she is the one who dragged me to the infirmary when I got a horse fever and my brain was in mush; she had even sat next to me for four hours to make sure I wasn't trying to fuck up.
She is the lass who almost got her back broken by a specter of XANA, to run to my rescue while I was freezing in a cold room at the Hermitage; and in all of this I had hung up on her face when she needed someone to help her after taking another beating an hour earlier.
I don't know with what logic, but apparently she took a header for me...go figure...-
-Why, does one need a reason to love someone?-
Another hit by Richard, for Richard. He didn't even answer this question.
-Well, the psychiatric session is over! Now what do you say we continue? It won't be long before the exit.-
They walked again along the tunnel. They had nothing more to say to each other, given their conflict had been resolved. Finally Richard could say he felt his heart was much lighter, and his mind brighter. A little peace had been brought into the labyrinthine chaos that was his psyche.
The end of the journey soon came: in the middle of the tunnel stood out in front of them, a door suspended in nowhere: it was made entirely of polished mahogany, and the glittering hinges were not attached to any wall. The handle, circular, was made of crystal, on which was engraved the motif of a rose; a brass plaque stood out on the wood, as did the inscription.
"The Gunslinger"
All these symbols triggered an almost instinctive movement in Richard: he went immediately to the other side of the door that, as he had partly expected, could no longer be seen. It was like transparent, incorporeal, allowing him to see the projection of his consciousness standing on the other side. Going back, however, the door reappeared.
-...Are you mocking me? Really?-
-Do i have to remind you which seven books you read and reread?
Well, gunslinger, now the world has moved on, and the time has come to cross the threshold. Be careful not to get choked by the hugs of your friends, they may exaggerate in pulling you out of the scanner.-
-...Aye.-
Richard grabbed the handle firmly, and turned it until it snapped the lock. The door opened slowly, showing a neon yellow light on the other side, and what appeared to be steel walls.
Turning around, he saw that his projection had completely disappeared. It had probably returned to him, recalling his body. Richard was finally back to himself, after a long and macabre nightmare.
Taking two slow steps, he crossed the threshold completely. In an instant, the door behind him closed again, in his second and last click.
DECEMBER 19, 6.05 AM, WILLIAM DUNBAR'S HOUSE
-AAH!-
William woke up, throwing himself out of... bed? That's right: once he opened his eyes again he realized he was no longer in that boiler room, after that worker had tried to choke him to death. He wasn't even in a hospital; that was his bedroom, clean and spartan like every other day. In fact, after taking down a few posters of punk rock bands, and a small collection of vinyl or DVDs, he didn't have much flashy stuff in his room. And in general he spent little time at home, as his job often required long shifts, overtime or sudden calls.
He rubbed his eyes vigorously, to wipe away every image of what at first glance seemed like a nightmare. Or at least he hoped so.
"What is happening? First the occasional deja vu, then this...no, it can't be back, XANA is not so discreet in his attacks. It must have been a nightmare.
But, perhaps, it is better to ask for a day or two of leave. This week I feel like a wreck. And then Christmas is near, and I really need to be in peace, at least for a while."
He walked in front of his window, opening it wide and letting the fresh air of that winter day into the room for a few seconds, so that he could breathe it and soothe his nerves.
"...One day, however, I have to go and check it with my own eyes. I don't want it to happen again. I couldn't afford it."
10:16 A.M., ABANDONED FACTORY, LABORATORY
Aelita: -So Jeremy, what does the data say?-
Her voice echoed like never before in the Laboratory room, which was colder than usual on that day. After all, "yesterday" had been an almost tragic day: the boys were completely shaken, and Maya...it took an hour just to make her stop crying, while she clutched at them as hard as she could. She looked as if she had seen hell with her own eyes... And now the whole team of the old Lyoko Warrior was gathered here, trying to make the point of the situation.
Jeremy: -According to the supercomputer, the situation is very strange: XANA has vanished into thin air.-
Ulrich: -What!? What does it mean "vanished into thin air"!?-
Jeremy: -I mean that there is no trace of his activities anymore, in any sector. And the monster files have not even been touched. It almost seems as if he has run away.-
Odd: -And what do you think we should do?-
Jeremy: -..To wait, Aelita. I will put various firewalls and passive defenses, but we can't let you surf the net yet, i will have to rebuild the Skidbladnir.-
Yumi: -And after all, if XANA disappears for a while, all the better; the guys need some rest, they are too upset to dive into Lyoko again.-
Aelita: -You're both right. And by the way, what was the result of their analysis?-
Jeremy: -First of all, I noticed that they all had unusual changes in their DNA, right after they came back here. Nothing negative, but it is definitely strange. I will try to study the data and draw some hypothesis.
Regarding their level of mental stress, Edward did better than all of them. Sylviane has had much more significant upsets, but...Richard is in the lead.-
Ulrich: -...After what they've been through, they're not kids anymore. I don't know what they saw, but I am sure that...it was too much for them.-
Jeremy: -Unfortunately I have to agree. They are no longer just kids. They can no longer afford it...-
13.47, KADICK, REFECTORY
That was the last day of school before the Christmas vacations began; the teachers had been good enough not to organize last-minute checks, so students spent their free time together before leaving school and visiting families.
Three kids sat at one table at the end of the hall; they had just finished eating, in a hurry, as if it was the last lunch of their lives. After all that had happened, they were more than grateful to be able to go back to eating, walking and living in the real world.
Edward was distractedly looking at his cell phone; Syl had already put her book on the table. Maya instead held her head with both hands, and had a thoughtful look, lost in the void.
Maya: -...Guys...am I a dead weight for you?-
Ed almost dropped his cell phone, while Syl immediately lifted his head. Neither of them could believe the question that had just been asked.
Edward: -Maya, what are you saying!? How can you think you are a burden?-
Maya: -Because I don't know how to do anything! Apart from deactivating the towers, I have no other skills. I saved myself by pure luck, while you were in danger of dying, and in the meantime I remained there, still and motionless, in the grip of fear...-
A tear came down on his left cheek, scratching it down to his chin; he seemed on the verge of crying again. Syl, promptly, got up from the chairs to go and embrace her from behind, as a sign of support.
Syl: -Don't talk nonsense! What you have done is thanks to you, not by chance. You are not a dead weight, you are one of the most important people in all this. And you are a fantastic person. Remember, you have us, your parents, and their friends. And we will fight for you as we do for the whole world. Now stop crying, you have no reason to -
Maya: -*sniff..th- thank you guys..you're probably the best people I've ever met..I don't know what I would do without you..-
Edward: - "It's our job." Maya, remember?- That phrase had become almost the mantra of the whole group.
Maya rubs her eyes with her sleeve, to wipe the tears from her flushed eyes. A small smile surfaced on her lips, giving a little more serenity to her face.
Maya: -..Richard is not here with us...-
Edward: -Yes, from what I know he holed up in his room. Who knows what his nightmare was...-
Syl: -I'll go talk to him. Or at least, I'm going to try...-
Edward: -Thank you Syl.-
The girl with the purple hair left her friends at the table, and at a rapid pace she headed out of the refectory. From a distant table Jacqueline Auguste tried to formulate the classic mockery of her, now a daily occurrence; but before she could open her mouth, Syl suddenly turned her head and stared straight into her eyes, with a glacial gaze that left little room for interpretation.
"Don't. You. Dare..."
On leaving the building, it didn't take Syl long to reach the men's dormitory. She had to talk to Richard as soon as possible, and try to drag him out of the room. She had done this before, but this was the most important one.
RICHARD'S ROOM
No speakers, no headphones, no PC. Silence reigned throughout the room, while Richard stared at the ceiling, lying on the unmade bed, covered with papers and junk. His gaze was empty and distracted, but his mind was in full swing.
He was looping everything that had happened: the nightmare, the tunnel; the nightmare, the tunnel. Every scene had remained vivid in every detail. He still remembered the smell of blood and gunpowder, which permeated the entire apartment. He remembered the bleeding corpses, their screams of pain, and how much the bullets received hurt. A videotape in constant rewind.
He hadn't even gone down to the cafeteria yet; he wasn't hungry at all. He was too focused on remembering and thinking about what would happen in the future. He felt that he was going to talk to a particular person in the near future. And if it hadn't happened that day, it would have happened later; he couldn't run away from it, sooner or later the two of them would have talked.
The sound of the knuckles on the door awakened Richard, who slowly got up to open the door and found Sylviane Cellier on the threshold.
She saw a Richard in his most wretched condition: his shirt was unraveled, his hair even more ruffled, and his eyes...full of dark circles and injected with blood. He didn't seem to have slept at all. And who could blame him: most of last night had been spent at the factory, in an attempt to calm down after the events in which they had taken part. He remembered very well when Richard had left the scanner; not even the time to take a step that he was under the embrace of three people at once. They almost suffocated him.
Syl: -...May I come in?-
Richard: -Oh..yes..of course, come in...-
The boy let her cross the threshold, and then took the various junk out of her bed, so as to offer her a place to sit. So they ended up standing next to each other, remaining silent for something like two whole minutes, without looking each other in the eye.
Richard: -...what do you need?-
Syl: -Do i need a reason to come and see how you are?-
Richard: -...no, I suppose not...sorry...anyway, now i'm better. I mean, in the end it was all a nightmare. A bad dream-.
Syl: -Yeah..eh...I saw everything. Your illusion, I mean. And you don't know how sorry I am...I wanted to do something, but...I couldn't...and don't think that i'm scared of you..-
Richard's eyes gouged out at that moment; how could he have seen the carnage he had carried out? What did you think of him, now that you had seen him at work?
Richard: -...among seven billion...- It was a whisper, faint but audible. And Syl had heard it well.
Syl: -What? What are you talking about?-
Richard: -...Why among seven billion people in this world have you chosen to have a thing on me!? I mean, you've seen me: I'm not capable of controlling myself enough that I believe in illusions, and look what I've done, a massacre! What qualities do I have? All I did was get you into trouble, first with Lyoko, then with this- OUCH!
He hadn't been able to see the slap that had arrived in his face, pulled by Syl herself; this last hour had taken his face with both hands, forcing him to see her face to face. His look was a mixture of angry and compassionate.
Syl: -Stop putting yourself so low, Richard! You don't want to admit how much you are worth! You're smart, you have courage, you're nice...and you're not afraid to sacrifice yourself for us! You were willing to get yourself shot in order to avenge us all! And that is enough for me to love you and to want to be with you! I don't need any other reason!
Don't even try to say that it was your fault, because neither you nor the rest of us could have known what was going to happen! And for heaven's sake, stop doing everything by yourself and work yourself to death, without ever asking for a hand! If you think you are a burden to us, you are wrong. I know you're doing this for us, and you don't know how grateful we are, but please. Stop devaluing yourself like that!-
All those words had broken down a barrier: Richard in the blink of an eye had held Syl in a strong embrace, while he had sunk his face into the girl's shoulders. No tears or sobs came out, but it was as if he had burst into tears. He turned his head away, so that he could speak.
Richard: -..I... thank you Syl. I don't know how to tell you this in a way that doesn't seem cliché, or ridiculous, but...in a certain way...I love you. Very much.-
A smile surfaced on the girl's mouth, expressing all her happiness at hearing these words, especially from him.
Syl: -I know that. Don't think that i haven't noticed.-
And she kissed him. Pure and simple. Both remained so, for a good number of seconds, no one who rejected the other. They detached when they realized they needed to breathe.
Syl: -...uh..we'll do the rest another time...- This sentence, accompanied by a wink of his own, had brought the color back to Richard's face. He had never expected to be confronted with a girl so direct on certain topics.
Richard: -...so...can we consider ourselves...a couple?-
Syl: -Well, if by couple you mean boyfriend and girlfriend...it depends, would you want to?-
Richard: -...I really think so...-
Syl: -Then so be it.-
Syl took his head and put it on his legs, starting to caress his hair, in silence. On the other hand Richard was in limbo between two feelings: on the one hand he was quite embarrassed, since he had never been so intimate with a person, let alone a girl, and especially so quickly. On the other hand, he felt a kind of peace; all the memories of the nightmare seemed to become more and more faded, almost disappearing, while the present remained, in which Richard could finally say he felt good.
Syl: -Richard?-
Richard: -Yes?
Syl: -Will you spend your holidays with your family?-
Richard: -...not really: my father phoned me, and told me that for Christmas he can't accommodate people; they have been in the middle of a move, and now they live further away from Paris. But they asked me to come over for New Year's Eve.-
Syl: -I see...so I have a proposal to make to you: would you like to spend Christmas at my place? My family lives outside the city, in a small village in the countryside. We can rest and be together for the vacations.-
Richard: -..Are you sure Syl? I mean, it's not a problem for me, but your folks? To say, they will see a boy come crashing into the house...-.
Syl: -I had already told him about it. Or rather, in general, I had already spoken to him about you; not about Lyoko, of course. And they would be more than happy to accommodate you. Also because, in some ways...they believe that you are already my boyfriend...-
Richard: -Well, I'd say that, as of today, I am. And if they don't have any problems...then I will definitely come. To be here alone at the Kadick will lead me to mental suicide...-
Syl: -Good! Oh, one last thing. For space reasons...we'll have to share my room... and most likely my bed...it doesn't bother you, does it? I mean, we can put a cot in case...you don't feel comfortable...-
Richard: -Oh, no no, it doesn't bother me..I mean, if it doesn't bother you...-
Syl: -...Don't worry, no trouble for me...and then we can get to "know each other better", don't you think? Hehehehe... -
Another blow of redness crossed Richard's face, which slowly could have become bell pepper red. And they remained like that, comforting each other, without needing any more words.
In some ways, even though they didn't show it explicitly, they were always a couple. They always helped each other, shared their free time, and one always tried to save the other, and vice versa. Today they have made it more...official.
After all, they were no longer just kids.
They had grown up, for better or for worse. Now they were warriors. And besides saving the world, they will have to save themselves.
Well, i will publish a future "Chronicle Chapter", a series of little stories that narrates important interactions between the characters, giving more details. But, talking about the main plot, i can proudly say that the "Season 1" of The Second Carthage, is done! Thank all of you guys, for reviewing and following this project! It means very much for me!