Playing The Victims [BL]

Chapter Seventy-Six | Third World

"You don't get to go back to your post until I permit it." He knew it wasn't the right thing to say, and he hated that it sounded like he was constantly pulling-rank, but it was the only way to get Niklas to listen to him. His kid wasn't young anymore, he couldn't just order him to go to his room, or smack his ass if he'd really done something wrong.

He was undoubtedly a man now, one that could look after himself and make his own decisions. Mathias was human, and so he had his regrets, and one of his major ones was allowing the surrounding condition of the world to build-up on the isolated crack that had formed between their relationship.

"I don't understand why you would stop me, when I'm fine?"

Mathias wasn't convinced. Although he had a lot of responsibilities resting on his shoulders, he would always prioritise the stubborn brat, whether he liked it or not. And on this occasion, he had read various reports which specifically outlined the same fact— that their commander was unresponsive for a long period of time, and that that was only the first of two occasions when he was rendered unconscious.

"You don't get ill easily, which means it's because you used that ability of yours." The supreme commander grumbled, running a hand through his hair out of stress. "I thought we agreed that you wouldn't use it—"

"Unless strictly necessary. I know. We were going to die if I didn't, so I don't regret it."

Mathias knew his son was right. But it was no longer as simple as Niklas using the foreign ability to save himself and his team— there were witnesses. Given the previous interviews that the supreme commander was privy to, he wished he could have exchanged a few Scavenger individuals with any other civilian. Because civilians could be sweet-talked into forgetting what they saw, or even given some loose explanation; one in which they wouldn't follow up. But then there was the eagle-eyed types like the Scavenger leader, Valentin. Or the much smarter than he looked; Hansel.

Mathias was against these 'abilities'. They were just as abnormal as the Rotters themselves. He didn't condone testing, testing which he turned a blind-eye to. Given what had happened in the past, he refused to even go close to where the immoral fuckers worked. Anytime they were put in the same room as those scientists, Mathias would be reminded of the past. It took a lot for him to keep his weapon holstered.

Knowing that, in the end, Niklas acted in accordance with his military-training, Mathias crossed the room and placed a hand on his shoulder; grasping firmly. "Just take it easy, ok?"

Knowing how overbearing his father could be, Niklas was still sceptical of the man's behaviour. They usually kept an amicable distance, getting on with their own private lives and only bumping into each other every now and then. But Mathias appeared genuinely concerned. "Did something happen?" He couldn't help but ask as he tucked his green shirt into his slacks.

"Nothing for you to be concerned about."

"Ok."

"You're not curious?"

Meanwhile, Niklas was making his way over to the door. "I'll go ask Roscoe."

"Niklas, I'm your father!"

"So what? You don't want to tell me."

Mathias wanted to throw a pathetic and over-the-top tantrum. He was only winding his son up, hoping that he would be eager to ask his papa for information— but clearly Niklas wasn't as playful as he once was when they used to bury each other in the sand when he was a child.

The almighty supreme commander, gave in. "I joined Roscoe on interviewing the other team that you travelled back with."

That caught the Commander's attention. Turning from the door to face his superior-officer, Niklas waited patiently for the man to explain; no doubt already predicting his questions. "Well initially, after reading Roscoe and the others' mission-reports, I wanted to meet the young lad who patched you up—"