A Different Lighthouse

Chapter 7

"Can y'now? Glad there's at least one agreeable bone in your body."

"Just the one."

With that said, they swiftly gathered their weapons and supplies and prepared to get moving. Blue woke amongst all the shuffling around, and Ben smiled as she came out of the bedroom having dressed herself. The smile fell a bit when he also caught sight of the glinting syringe in her hand, but he buried the discomfort for now. Hopefully, soon, she would shed the need to carry that ghastly thing around, as well.

Ben wondered, as they continued further into the belly of Rapture, following signs leading to Arcadia, what Rapture had looked like in it's prime. Specifically, if it was always this damn dark. The blue light had been beautiful at first, but now only made him jumpy as it cast thick and long shadows all around him, made the colors of the world blur together until everything could be a threat lying in wait. He trusted Blue or Armitage to alert him to danger that he couldn't see himself, they were citizens of Rapture, where he was only a visitor.

"So," he said, trying to lighten the mood. "Is Armitage your real name?"

Armitage glanced up at him, then forward again. "It is, now."

"Ugh," Ben groaned, letting his head fall back dramatically. "You're so cryptic! Why are you like this?"

He could have sworn he heard the man snort quietly. "I ain't cryptic. It was a code name that stuck, alright?"

Ben hummed quietly, watching him out of the corner of his eye as they walked. Blue was several paces ahead, humming cheerfully to herself.

"Interesting code name," he said eventually. "Armitage. I read that it means solitude and was used when someone had great knowledge of war. Is that why?"

Armitage seemed almost bewildered as he blinked at him. "How would you-...yeah. That...it's...it doesn't mean anythin'." The red tinge on the tips of his ears betrayed his words. Ben smiled a bit.

"Mhm."

As they rounded a corner, Ben's eyes caught on a brightly colored propaganda poster: a likeness of a man, red hair, white shirt, and suspenders. Hands on his hips, a deep frown settled on his brow, his face cast in shadow.

"WHO IS ARMITAGE?" emblazoned over his head.

Arcadia was a living juxtaposition, organic and synthetic pressed up against each other in a way that tried and failed to seem natural. Trees loomed over their heads, and grass compressed beneath their shoes. Between each, the shine of metal and steels bolts peered through, the truth behind the veil. Were the smells of leaves and wet dirt real, or being filtered in through the vents? Ben couldn't be sure.

"Through here," said Armitage, nodding toward the winding path through the man-made forest. "There's a bathysphere in the Rollin' Hills that'll take us straight to Ryan. Then we kill him, and get the hell out of here."

Ben nodded, though heart thumped uneasily. "Armitage. What if I...can't?"

"Can't what?"

"What if I can't kill him? I've never killed anyone before."

He felt an odd tug in his stomach, almost like...guilt.