[Featured on WATTPAD PICKS]
The last thing you'd imagine Earth's General having is an identity crisis, let alone in the middle of an interstellar war, but for General Avalyn Concerto she begs to differ.
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They stopped at the top of the stairs that led to the basement, where the dark rooms dwelled. Even during the daylight hours, the hallway was pitch black, secluded. Except today, of all days, there was no noise. The tunnel was eerie and ominous, striking a ghostly fear down Ava's spine.
Mika tightened the hand-woven blanket around them, easing away the haunting memories of the Reaper. Somewhere between the bar and the basement, he pulled the blanket further over their shoulders. It brought them closer. Yesterday, Ava would've said too close, but now she leaned in and accepted this secure warmth he brought.
What was Mika thinking? Did he have the same disgusted feelings as Marc every time they came to this place? Would he let Ava go if he knew she used to be a participant? Would he regret kissing her if he knew she kissed many before him?
Mika was becoming her new safety net, and Ava wasn't sure if she could push him away this time or if she wanted to. This wasn't good. It'll only hurt worse in the end.
Ava stepped first down the stairs as Mika held onto the railing. They slowly descended into the darkness. His heavy breaths echoed the entire way. Her heartbeat quickened, becoming more aware of him and his body as her back gradually warmed the closer he walked. This was taking forever.
The moment they reached the bottom Ava smacked the button multiple times just to get through the door quicker than possible. When she stepped through, stark light blinded her. The ceiling lights were on, bleach sprayed down the walls. Toxic.
Mika coughed into his fist. "What is that smell? It's burning my throat."
"They're cleaning the rooms." Ava took his hand. "Just keep your mouth covered with the blanket. I'll lead the way."
They passed through the millions of red ribbons hanging off the ceiling. Fake jewels gleamed, reflecting a rainbow of droplets off every inch of the bare room. The cushions were gone and so were the hookahs. A hollow feeling echoed with their every step as the toxic chemicals collided with the scent of iron.
The staff huddled together near a section in the back, washing blood off the walls. Their fading gray uniforms meshed together, nearly making them camouflage against the stained concrete. Red drops sprinkled their face masks as rusted water drained beneath their boots and into the middle section of floor.
Ava hurried down the hallway. Mika didn't utter a word. She slammed the door open to Harry's room. When she expected him to be toking it up on the couch, he was doing quite the opposite. Harry ran around the room, arm full of clothes and tossed them on the couch. He picked up random electronics out of the hoard and tossed them into a moving box sitting between the desk and coffee table.
When Mika coughed, it caught Harry's attention. He dropped the cords. "What the hell are you guys doing here? Shouldn't you be at the Command Center?"
"What are you talking about?" Ava asked.
Harry motioned at the monitor hanging on the wall. They walked further in, letting the door latch behind, and watched as propaganda spread throughout the universe. Zephyrus' ship flashed on the screen, showing its broken engines, chunks of metal and debris floating in space, and the busted side where the Mars ship rammed into him.
