RAYAN
Fire pinched his skin at the bridge of metal as he landed in the Merger while the world spun around him. He groaned and rocked with the pain in his chest as he settled himself in his chair. Out of his scout, he almost fell off the wing and face-first into the concrete. Bionic stars danced along the rims of buildings, trying to adjust to the new environment. Neon lights glowed and seared through his mind as it fell into the black hole, turning into nothing but spaghetti in front of him.
Back on his feet, he stumbled through the alleys, unsure of where his body took him. How far? How far has this gone? For how long? His breath caught in his chest as he crawled himself forward, over the bodies of those he left behind. How long? Who else?
Blurry shapes milled past him as he tried to get somewhere familiar. Somewhere comfortable. Anywhere but in the flames as he shuffled onto main street, where voices coalesced in his ears, but he found himself unable to pick the conversations out.
One shoulder crashed into his, and he stumbled into a wall as a shadow whipped to face him, raising their hands for a shove. "Watch where you're going!"
He heard Aaron scoff in his disbelief, in his certainty of the Insurgency's ideal. Rayan lunged forward to grab onto him, to pull him into the alley to grapple his haunted shadow into a headlock. Annoyance and fear sent tremors through his arm, but he held on tight. Shapes swelled, and he frowned when dark hair replaced the lighter curls of Aaron as the person stared up at him with wide, grey eyes of shock.
"Listen, buddy," Rayan hissed through the stars. "Watch that mouth. You never know who you're pushing around." He uncoiled his arm, and the person stumbled back into the street, where few people glanced over to check the commotion, but went about their days as if nothing unusual happened. The messy blur escaped into the crowd, but he stuck himself to the alley, where the lights threatened to overwhelm his bionics.
Arm across his brow to wipe the sweat, he raised his free hand to his stiff cybernetic. Celestials... too hot. He continued his journey through the underbelly of the District Merger. People hooted and cheered in the distance, and pubs gave promise to sweet temptation. Rayan shuddered when the sensation of blood slicked down his forearm and collected on his elbow, and he forced himself onward.
Embers bit holes into his skin to cauterize the unseen wound as he followed the soft purples. Have to... He stumbled into the small square with Garcy's shop — where Nyra and Keren found themselves in the grip of the Insurgency. Its title sparked and flashed, each letter doused closer to having no name at all. No shapes milled about in the intercity collection of shops, so he hung off the door, where many of the rebels posted pamphlets. Among them, some of Aaron's ideas, those they followed through with to help those who struggled and the Sanctum ignored.
"Ray?" Garcy asked as Rayan entered.
Rayan breathed deep the familiarity, but it choked him as Garcy's large shadow lifted from the desk. "Jina said you were in a rush," Garcy said and rounded into his clear view. "You alright?" His gray gaze lowered to his metal shoulder. "Celestials, what happened? You look like you crawled out of the Void Hells." His lungs caved in while he tried to steady himself. He drew back from Garcy's outreach of help. "Rayan?" Garcy mused. "Is something wrong? Do you want me to take a look at your arm?"
How long? Who else?
He left them all behind.
Rayan tried to find a different sense of familiarity, and ignored Garcy calling his name until he was long gone from the shop. Pain coiled through his neck as he tugged himself to Azure Lane, where a couple of patrons sat outside on the side deck and gave him no words or motions of acknowledgements. Anything to run from the flames; to run from the problem.
Until he fell into its dark embrace on one of the bar stools, and tried to drive sweet temptations down his throat instead of pain.
Over and over.
Again and again.
Lights dimmed. Voices molded. He kept his head against the bar and his hand clutching the neck of the bottle.
"Ray?" Jina asked as she handed a small cup to Jel, who sat off to the side. "You've been drinking since you got here."
"Mhm." He jumped when Jina's finger poked him in the back of the neck. "What?"
"I do have to close this place down at some point," Jina said. "You can't drink all of our stock."
Rayan twisted from her to pour some of the sweet liquid into his canteen, to savor the line he had left to him before downing what little drops there were left at the bottom. He held it against his lips, to taste failure and victory, to feel something other than the embers and crushing metal. Jina frowned, then said, "I think you should take it easy. What's going on?"
Rayan slammed the bottle against the counter and peered at her through the bionic stars. "Tell me... if Aaron Lexin tries to return here... Don't let him back in. Just tell me..."
"Aaron, what—?"
Off with his burden, he stumbled out of Azure Lane, unable to find comfort in simpler things.
Where am I going anymore?
Canteen tucked in his hand, he drank it all until there was nothing left. Colours blurred past him as he tickled Ethanius Rilannan's card of addresses. Both led to Irenu, one on the outskirts, where cliffside podhomes stuck themselves out of the rocks of support.
No answer at one door, and no sign of life when he peeked through the window.
Until his sweet temptations led him to the tall, spiraling building, whose top spun with joyous, ravenous illumination. Irenu Casino. He said this... would be the only other place he'd be if... Rayan shuffled along with the crowd to enter the curved doors, assaulted by sounds and colour the moment he got through the threshold.
Things ticked and music slammed in his ears as people checked in with the security desk, handing their ID pods. Machines rang out in victory, and groaned in defeat, but the allure drove people to continue; to cross personal lines. Card dealers sat at tables on the upper levels, handing out cards, but the house never lost, couldn't lose. Fists clenched, he sauntered up to the security desk, where one young man considered him from behind the panel, while an older gentleman leaned against the communications array.
His lips moved, but no words came out.
"I need to see Ethanius Rilannan," he spoke out, though the words never moved the security guard. Irritation flashed through the young man's features, and Aaron screamed at him from across the solar system as he snapped something he couldn't hear. "Let me through."
Rayan blinked when a different security guard approached him, and laid a firm hand on his arm. Trickles of embers pulsed through his fingers, but he glanced to the screaming slot machine as it rained coins on its screen. Other guards urged people through, but he scowled when they tugged on his arm, when he longed to be free.
On his heel, he snapped around to throw his fist into the guard's alarmed face. On the ground, Rayan stood on them as another security guard rushed over, and the crowd of people scrambled away. "I said let me through!" Rayan snapped through the haze and distant alarms. "Let me see Rilannan!"
In the security desk, the young guard hovered over the array, and quieter words slipped out. Rayan scowled when the guard beneath him grappled his leg, but he pressed on their chest, and scowled down at them. "Try me," he growled. "Try it."
One guard rushed closer, and he readied himself for the fight he never tore himself from. He adjusted his foot to keep the guard on the ground, readying an edevic sword to attack.
"Stop!" a voice rang out from the young guard, cutting clarity through the blurry world. "You are Rayan Falae, correct?"
"What gave you that idea?" Rayan hissed as he put both feet on the guard's stomach, who squeaked when he dropped his weight.
"Ethanius Rilannan is in the presidential suite," the young guard explained and pointed at the row of elevators. "He said you may go up and see him. Go ahead, and don't hold up the line."
Everyone stared in judgment, disbelief, and broken promises. Another slot machine flashed a red loss, and the person in front of it groaned in frustration.
Is there no way to win?
Off the guard, who scrambled up with hands raised, Rayan shoved past the other one into the heart of Irenu. Illumination dug into his temples as he stumbled through the rays and rows of people. Into the elevator, his mirror reflection rested against him for support as he held onto the railing, trying to keep himself standing as it lifted him past the point of no return.
If I can't win...
It opened with a hum, and he shambled to the large double doors. He pushed them open into a large suite to put most homes to shame. Along the nearest wall, a personal bar, full of bottles which glowed with the city canopy outside.
"You know, I would've preferred it if you didn't attack the casino security. People might get the wrong idea." Rayan switched around to Ethanius, who sat against a chair with a steaming mug in his hands. He set it to the side and tapped the remote to the massive I-Screen, which showed a news report in Odaport. "I would've preferred it if you—"
Rayan tugged out his blaster as Ethan went to stand up. "Sit. Down."
Ethan hesitated, and then gently sat back down and crossed his leg. Rayan placed his blaster on the bar while Ethan never moved from the chair. "I want a fucking drink." He rounded to examine the bottles, twisting each one to read their labels.
"I thought you wanted to see me."
Rayan grabbed a wide bottle off one of the glowing stands, which dimmed once he took it. He uncorked it with a hard pop, and then placed a glass on the table to pour it. Gentle oranges whisked against the container as Ethan observed him with careful consideration. He ignored the crime syndicate enforcer for the moment to down one glass.
"I only have so much of that vintage, you know," Ethan said.
Rayan poured another glass, and scowled when Ethan left his seat. "I told you to sit down."
"How long have you been drinking before you got here?" he asked, ignoring him as Rayan drank the sour vintage, but it was better than nothing. Better than flames. "Why have you come here, Rayan Falae? Weren't you the one complaining about me not telling you when I am stopping by? At least I didn't trample all over your rebels."
"Stop asking me questions," Rayan said. "Not until I've had some more."
Ethan stood on the other side of the bar as Rayan threw the cork across the room, where it bounced off the wall. He slumped into one of the stools and rested his head against the wood.
My rebels...? I don't think so.
Rayan frowned, then lifted his head to stare into Ethan's appraising gaze. Full of stone, and never revealing anything more. Hazy fog washed into his mind, where Ethan studied his mural painted along the dark tunnel, swallowed by shadows, but he fought to have it mean something.
Anything.
"Tell me, Malakai," Rayan hissed as he slipped off his bar stool to head to Ethan. "At what point do you pull the trigger?"
Ethanius rested his chin in his hand. "Oh? Where is this line of questioning going?"
Rayan loomed over Ethanius Rilannan, where his own shadow heightened the black hole in the greens. He rasped out, "Tell me — at what point do you consider it kind instead of cruel? I turned my back, and got a knife in it. So... at what point do I turn around and fight back against someone I trusted?"
Trusted with my life. With my ideals. With the hope of others. With everything. I tried to be kind. I tried to be open. I wore my heart on my sleeve and paid the price. I understood where the Insurgency failed — but why was it not enough? His fist dug deeper into the neck of the bottle, and it shuddered underneath his strength. Why can't it be more than a tunnel?
"Are you going to keep drinking my vintages?" Ethan asked back.
He poured it into the glass, and tried to drink the cruelty away.