The Path of Rust

The beginning

       It wasn't his preferred way to go, but perhaps bleeding out on a rooftop was better than rotting in jail. Not that the villain had much choice in the matter; he was laying in a pool of his own blood and his limbs refused to listen to the commanding voice of his instincts yelling "Run! Go, now, while you still can!"

       'Rustwing', as the media called him, felt the bubbling heat of laughter aimed at his own instincts rise in the pit of his stomach. Even if he did have the strength to get up, where would the villain go? He was on a rooftop, surrounded by those heroes and several helicopters, and his glorious wings for which he was named were mangled, likely broken beyond repair.

       Rather than watch the leader of the hero trio stalk over to him and give their victory speech, Rustwing closed his eyes. He could feel his incoming death, the void and empty feeling his mother had described to him when she was on her deathbed which he now felt as an ache in his soul accompanied by his empathy slowly slipping away like melting ice in an open hand, a pairing like peanut butter and jelly. There was no doubt about it in Rustwing's mind, and he wasn't going to die listening to his reaper's stupid 'good always prevails!' speech.

"-your empire has fallen, Rustwing-"
"Ciel"
"-and now it's time to pay- I... what?"
"My name's Ciel. Be a dear little golden-heart and bury me next to the river, yeah?"

       This, Rustwing thought, would be his end. Someone might as well know his real name. Afterall, this would be the day Rustwing, Ciel, died on a rooftop.

This was the day Ciel's story began.

~~~~~~~

The first thing Ciel was aware of when he came to was, of course, the fact that he was somehow still alive. The second thing was the unique smell of medicine, blood, death, and 'cleanliness' that only existed in hospitals. The third was the feeling of other patients' emotions flowing in and out of his mind like a river; a patient from an adjacent room, for example, was radiating sadness and acceptance which felt like the last rays of sunlight from a setting sun and calm waves on a beach, respectively.

The fourth and fifth things Ciel noticed went hand-in-hand; he was still in his villain outfit, mask and all, and handcuffed to the bed. Both facts were alarming, but what Ciel focused on was how numb his back was when he should've been able to feel his wings. It was in this moment that he noticed the heart monitor by his side and, after opening his eyes and blinking away the sting from the light, the hero sitting next to his bed.

The hero, named 'Thunder' by the media, was Ciel's "dear little golden-heart." He was named partly because he could create objects seemingly out of thin air, coming out of nowhere unless you were looking like lightning, and partly because his first appearance was in the middle of a thunderstorm. His black swat-like outfit, helmet and all, had a golden lightning bolt on it; it was definitely more simple than Ciel's outfit consisting of a masquerade mask, a chest plate under a shirt, gloves, boots, and long cape that all shared the same color pattern: dark green with golden hems and edges, a single diamond on each wrist and ankle. Ciel had always called Thunder "dear little golden-heart" because while other heroes only attempted to talk the infamous Rustwing into reforming for the first few battles, or first 10 minutes of a battle on one occasion, Thunder had done so for over 100 battles.

None of that was what bothered Ciel, though. This wasn't the first time he had been handcuffed to something, far from the first time he had been in the hospital, and it made sense that a hero would watch over a villain so he couldn't escape. What bothered Ciel so badly was a combination of two simple facts: Thunder was twirling a little black feather that turned the brownish-orange color of rust at the end, one of Ciel's feathers, between his fingers and Ciel couldn't feel his wings.