It had been a while since Eliot had been alone from his friends. Sure, when he isolated himself in the Collider he was alone, but that was different. He needed that time to really find some semblance of peace, or else he was going to break into pieces. Even after he found himself, mostly, he knew that he needed to be surrounded by his pillars of support. That was something he had always known, but something that was finally understanding.

Currently, he was walking alongside a strutting woman whose hair was pompous, curly, and professional. Everything about her aura asserted her confidence and professionalism. There wasn’t an ounce of doubt in her nor a single hesitancy with each stride. Paulette was a different breed, even compared to the rest of the mob.

After a few minutes of mindless, albeit paced, walking, the greying sky above began to blend in with the stone buildings that composed most of the city. The stagnant colors of the surroundings and the dulling sounds of nothingness began to lull Eliot to sleep, even while he walked.

In order to keep himself awake, he looked at Paulette and asked, “So what exactly are we doing?”

Without missing a beat nor step, she replied, “I told you, we’re on our way to complete an escort mission.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” Eliot casually responded. His mind had been in and out of sorts lately. He wasn’t sure it was from the overload of circumstance or because of something else. Ever since he landed in London, emotionally, he felt just a little off—not good, not bad, just off.

“And by the looks of it,” Paulette said, glancing down at her watch, “we’re going to be two and half minutes late.” She huffed as she said that, sighing with annoyed disappointment.

“I’m sorry, if it’s my fault,” Eliot apologized, shyly rubbing his arm.

Without even looking back, Paulette flatly replied, “It is.” She then swiflyy ducked into a tucked away road that led under a small bridge, which surprisingly had no graffiti on it. “I can handle this mission on my own—I’ve done plenty just like it before. But Archard insisted that you come for “protection”, even though there's no need for it, so I’m not going to complain.”

Eliot cocked his head. “Why isn’t there need for any protection? Aren’t you fighting against some cruel mobsters? That seems kind of dangerous.”

For the first time during the entire walk, Paulette stopped and turned towards Eliot. “Because,” she replied, “there's no need for contingencies if the plan is perfect—and my plans are always perfect.” She turned back around and started to walk again. “Come on, we’re almost there.”

By midday, they had arrived in front of a tan-stoned building on the westmost edge of the city. It was a hotel that was at least four stories or so tall, Eliot thought. Although he was terrible at estimating. The design of the building however, was something that was quite intriguing. As it continued to climb higher into the sky, its composition slightly shifted. Every material that made up the higher floors were shiner, newer, and cleaner. It was like the building was telling the story of its past and of its construction. The colors went from a lighter tan, to a dark wood, and finally towards the top it was almost completely glass.

As Eliot’s eyes moved back down from the top of the building, he saw that Paulette was nowhere to be seen. His eyes darted all over the place for her, but he stopped the moment he saw the front door swing shut.

Oh crap, wait up, he thought to himself.

Sprinting inside, he saw that the interior was slightly rustic, but with a modern flare every so often. The stone walls were accented with modern electronics and even touch-screen kiosks and televisions. The floor was made out of a smooth linoleum that was shinier than any he had seen before.

A few feet further into the reception area, near the couches, was Paulette, surrounded by seven other individuals. There were four men and three women. Three of the men had nice button-up shirts with ties, while the other man had khakis on with a comfortable-looking polo shirt. On the other hand, the women were dressed more casually. Each one of them had on either jeans or white pants, while their shirts were mostly free-flowing but surprisingly fine-looking. The one thing those women all had in common was that they each wore sunglasses.

As Eliot walked up to them, he realized that they were already partway into a conversation.

“I’m just saying, this is a bit unprecedented,” one of the men said to Paulette.

“And I’m just saying that these are unprecedented times,” she snapped back. “So let’s get going. We are already behind schedule.” She then spun around and began to walk out of the building.

The rest of the entourage was stunned for a second, but eventually began to follow her. Eliot was the last one to leave. He had no idea what was going on.

As they all left the hotel, Eliot ran up to Paulette, who was taking a commanding lead. “I have a few questions. Like, so who are these people?” he asked.

“Civilians. Next question,” she answered.

“I, uh, alright,” Eliot stammered. “Where are we taking them?”

Paulette took a sharp left turn. “Can’t answer. Security risk.”

“What?” Eliot asked, recoiling a bit in shock. “How am I a security risk?”

Paulette led the group down some stairs that descended into a subway station below. “Don’t waste my time with pointless questions like this.” She then led everyone into the front train car, which was the only empty one.

Eliot remained silent for a few moments after the train door closed. He thought about the idea of pointless questions, and how he never believed that there ever was one. As the train started to move, so did his brain. He thought back to high school and how even the teachers got annoyed with all the times he would raise his hand. That made him chuckle a bit.

Before he even knew it, the train had already stopped and the doors opened.

Already? he thought. That was quite the trip.

The entire group got up when Paulette did, and they followed her out the door. She eventually led them all through a few different streets, never entering a single alleyway. They did, however, have to walk through a convenience store and exit out the back. As they did, Eliot heard a few audible sighs and groans coming from the civilians they were escorting.

After about an hour of walking, Eliot finally realized where they were and recognized the path they were taking. Oh, we’re heading towards the dock, he thought. He remembered a few of the only standout landmarks around them. When this realization came to him, he figured that they had about half an hour before they would arrive at the docks.

Unfortunately, they never did.

The moment they got about halfway into a narrower street, a single sound consumed the area. It was a sound that froze Eliot in place, causing haunting memories to flood his mind. It was a sound that spelled fury and fear.

It was a gunshot.

And then there was another.

And another.

And another.

Eliot’s mind finally warmed his body up enough to the point where he could turn towards the sound and face the music. He saw three civilian bodies slumped on the ground, bleeding out. Two men, one woman. His breathing increased and he felt his body continue to boil and heat up.

“Noooooo!” he heard someone behind him yell. It was a woman’s voice. “Someone help—” and then the voice went silent.

Eliot spun around to see Paulette on the ground, on her side and facing away from him, motionless. Crazily, he looked around his immediate surroundings, but found nothing and no one besides the corpses and the people he was in charge of escorting.

Eventually, his eyes landed on a panicking man who was manically looking around him as he shouted to nothing in particular. His back was against a wall and his hands were on his head.

A bullet then flew through his forehead, scattering some blood against the wall behind him. He instantly collapsed on the ground, caving more of his head inwards.

Eliot then looked dead straight ahead of him. The scenery around him changed, if but for a second. Where there once was a tight street, almost alley-like in its narrowness, there was now his highschool hallway, consumed in flames. And then it shifted back to reality.

No, not again, he bargained with himself. Don’t let it. Don’t let it. Don’t let it.

Two more gunshots were heard, followed by two more voices going silent, and two more thuds against the ground.

“No,” he said. “This isn’t real. This isn’t real.”

Then he felt his shoulder begin to sear. Unlike the rest of his body, this heat wasn’t from the fires that were trying to escape his mind and heart. This heat was painful and focused. As he looked at his shoulder, he saw a bullet wound, fresh and pouring out blood.

“Nooooo!” he screamed.

It was at this moment that he saw multiple figures emerge from the nearby buildings, each one holding a gun in his general direction.

The scenery shifted again back to that same scene. However, where there were once many different gun-wielding figures, there were now multiple Jeremy’s, standing in the rolling flames of the school.

“I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t,” he repeated to himself, faster and faster.

Eliot's whole world began to be consumed by the red. There was no school, there was no London, and there was nothing else but his anger and his words. As that fire began to consume him, he fought back. He wrangled that wild inferno up, containing it to a small portion of his mind.

I’m not letting you free again, he thought. Not without my permission. I can’t control you when you’re free, but dammit I can sure as hell control you here.

In that liminal, red space, he felt his body shot again, this time in the leg. The moment the pain reached his head, a spark of black surged through the red. In those cracks, he saw the faces of Vincent and Fang.

Fuck, he thought. Fuck Fuck Fuck.

Then another pain ripped through his abdomen. This time, the most precious face came to the forefront of his mind. When he saw it, he couldn’t bear to think of it with tears in its eyes. The thought of this person sad at his passing was too much to bear. He didn’t want to see the one he loves most cry at his expense. He couldn’t let Zander cry. And for that to happen, he had to stay alive, no matter what.

“Fuck it,” he said freeing the wildfire in his mind.

Leaping out and apparating from his body was Berserkir, roaring as it became real once more. The hulking behemoth barreled through the narrow street, tearing up the pavement below its feet. As it clawed its way to the gunmen, it tramped over the civilian corpses like they were nothing but bugs beneath it.

Dozens of shots rang out towards it, but none slowed the beast down. And they never will. After all, what are a few pricks to a monster?

Effortlessly, Berserkir slashed and hacked and tore and mangled the bodies of those poor gunmen. They were dead before they even knew what killed them. Their bodies were unrecognizable, torn and scattered across the dull brick of the buildings around them. The once grey stones were now painted in red.

Windows shattered, buildings collapsed, and bodies were eviscerated. Nothing could stand up to the might of Berserkir. It, alone, remained at the top. No matter where it is, one thing is guaranteed: it would be the only thing left standing.

In his half dazed state, Eliot vaguely heard a voice behind him.

“Who are you?” the voice asked, rapsy and in pain.

Without even looking back, Eliot replied, “A monster.”

He then collapsed on the floor, unconscious.