Phantom Assassin (2015 version)

Chapter 09

After three hours, Trace could move. His wounds closed rather quickly, crusted over with blood. His eyes felt weird in his head, like they weren't his own.

He sat up on his elbows and sighed when he saw Hailey curled up next to him, sleeping. For a frightening killer, her soft side was pretty unusual.

"Hey," Trace poked her shoulder gently and she shot straight up, eyes wide.

"You can move now?" She yawned, stretching her arms high over her head. "That's good. I'll report to the team they can head back."

As if Trace didn't know the team members were waiting, he sat straight and alert.

Hailey pulled her glove off, lifted her hand to her mouth, and spoke out onto her palm. "Members of WP7 can return to Phantom. Trace has completed his Tool Training."

"Gotcha Hailey. Meet you back at Phantom," Dereck's voice echoed from her palm and she pulled her glove back onto her hand.

Trace stared at her like she was a foreign creature. She gave him a sympathetic smile.

"I don't have two working hands, either. So I had a transmitter built into my prosthetic hand," Hailey explained, a sad ring in her tone. She sighed and patted her knee, standing up. A smile found its way onto her face, but it seemed sad and deformed. She was forcing herself.

"I'm sorry," Trace tried, lifting his metal hand from the ground. He shoved the heel into his wrist and a million needles sliced through his skin, making sure he wouldn't lose it again. He let out a short yelp.

"Yeah, get used to that, Trace," Hailey chuckled. Then, clearing her throat, she ordered Trace to stand up. He did so obediently, lifting his sword in his real hand. The cool metal sent shivers down his spine, but it gave him a strange sense of power and pride. It felt good.

Hailey lifted her hand to her Modifier and zapped away in less than a second. Trace did so, too.

In the void, he didn't feel like he was alone. He felt like he had a chance. He felt like he was finally filling a hole in his heart, somehow.

And that caused him to smile.

Dropping into his team's dorm, he smiled at the members. Shallomar smiled sweetly at him and lifted her left sleeve. In turn, the rest of the members did so as well. Each arm had a scar from where Hailey's scythe had pierced their skin. And each insignia was different in their own way.

Dereck's was a design of smokey-looking clouds. Shallomar's was red butterflies with sharp, crimson-tipped wings. Peter's was an array of sharks and minnows. Isaac's was a bunch of dark black and red dragons. Hailey's was a pack of brown, black, and white wolves running up to her shoulder.

Trace lifted his sleeve and his breath caught in his mouth. The flames were tipped crimson, now. Not plain black, but fiery and sharp.

"Whoa, cool!" Isaac laughed excitedly, reaching out to touch Trace's arm. His awkward coldness made Trace flinch, but then Trace's insignia switched back to black, heating him up.

"What-" Trace stopped short of his sentence because the people around him belted out in mocking laughter.

"Your insignia reacts to what your body wants. Depending on the situation, it will react in different ways. You found Isaac's fingers cold, so your insignia heated you up. Without your insignia, you don't have a Tool, WP7 vision, or a basic life source," Dereck explained, touching the curls of smoke going up his arm.

"Your insignia is really cool, Trace," Isaac admired, still stroking his arm. "You know, they say that certain insignias reflect their host's actual personality. Which also gives you a hit of who you were before your memories were erased."