《The Bellators》1:2:1

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Blinding whiteness invades the view, a bright abyss void of detail and surrounding. The colorless avalanche harasses with seemingly no end, that is before being met with an opposing force of darkness, once that impedes with wide coverage instantly until that whiteness is shrouded into complete darkness. The darkness persists in newfound dominance as the soft sound of rubbing is audible, and a soft tired groan accompanies it, from what sounds like a man bitterly admitting unease.

The darkness suddenly uplifts, and two hands that had been pressed on the view move out of the way. With the darkness lifted however, the whiteness didn’t seem to return, but instead a new view, one adapted better after the struggle of remerging into the light.

The resolved view captures a lawn of large structures, tall and wide, with many beyond the view’s peripherals in a way that’s almost endless. The structures have a silverish blue body and seem to lack exterior features such as windows or doors, not even seeming to be real as they appear to be solid objects with no greater detail. Upon first glance, their simplicity seems to allude to illusionary situations, false images that couldn’t practically exist within the physical world. Although at second glance and as the view is continuing to refine and normalize, it becomes clear that the true body of the structures is simply silver with a metallic texture, one that reflects a blue hue.

In front of and behind the structures, there seems to be a sea of racing objects soaring in the air. The speed of the objects renders disclarity, however they roar and rumble, overburdening with excessive sound. The objects seem fairly large, and to be moving in a single direction, however separated into several distinguishable lanes vertically. The resultant effect is a vertical grid of constantly moving and roaring objects between the viewer and the building.

The view then tilts upwards, trying to look above the lanes, and in doing so the brightness of the view increases as though moving towards the source. Blue skies become visible through the tall blades of silver structures, with fluffy and scarce white clouds.

Among the blue skies is a great circular cyan blue object, a source of immense light, sitting in the sky in the way a sun would. The entity’s vibrant light seems to be the source of the blue hue on the structures, as its energy echoes onto the world below, being the cause of the overwhelming light upon the emergence.

The view then begins to move forwards as it tilts back down, moving disparately in a draggish manner, with soft steps nearly drowned by the roaring lanes. The view continues to lower before turning to its right side, losing sight of the lanes although there seem to be more silver structures in the distance. Looking closer, there seems to be a large field on a black smooth surface, a field with rows of entities wider than tall, with many having uniquely colored metallic bodies. While there also is a lack of exterior detail, the shape is more complex, seeming similar to that of an automobile, from at least the upper half, although there is an absence of wheels as the body has a flat and smooth bottom.

Continuing to approach the rows of these odd vehicular constructs, the view centers itself on a particular construct that, unlike the others, is matte black. The construct is relatively sleek, although not abundantly to appear sport-like, but not particularly round either.

Its body is lower to the ground than the majority of the other vehicles, and amongst the others, it’s hidden, not with greatly pronounced camouflage technologies, but subtleties when sitting in a row of others.

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The view approaches the construct, but that is until a loud voice is heard, one of a senile male with a noticeable rasp yet surprising power as it bellows: “Hey hey, almost missed you there!”

The view instinctively turns backwards towards the source of the sound, the view of the man in the leather jacket, his hands in his pockets with his hood over his head. The man’s soft blue eyes contract in a confused glare as the soft morning wind picks up his four defined locks of white hair on an otherwise bald head.

The man faces the source of the sound, which is another man who is noticeably taller and far slimmer to the point of abnormality. He wears a brown coat that reaches to his knees, and under the overcoat is a black shirt and pants, which now in the greater light of the outside seem to have light purple stains on them.

His face’s cheeks are abnormally sullen as though his jaw was perpetually lowered, and he has pronounced wrinkles on his head. His yellow eyes gaze on the man in the leather jacket, wide with excitement and energy.

However, upon the short glance at the strange old man Ekitai, Rohan turns around and continues walking towards the row of vehicular constructs without a reply, as though having seen nothing to warrant reaction or attention.

Ekitai watches Rohan continue on silently, so naturally he begins sprinting to catch up, panting loudly as he seems highly unathletic. He flails his arms around as he struggles to catch up, as while Rohan doesn’t seem to be running, his steps are long and intentionally fast, as though he’s trying to discreetly escape the odd follower.

In the fastest manner that could still be inconspicuous, Rohan reaches the matte black construct, and approaches its left side towards the front. As he does, part of the exterior dematerializes, seeming to evaporate into a soft cloud for a split second, creating a hole that reveals the interior of the construct with a noticeable deep whooshing hum that explodes and softens.

The front of the interior has two black seats, and between them is a table. While not visible from the outside, beside the far seat seems to be a transparent window, as the interior is highly reminiscent of that of an automobile. There is even a windshield in front, although one missing component is the driving wheel, as there doesn’t seem to even be a substitute, for the seat could even be mixed up as the passenger seat.

Rohan sighs in relief, and he begins to step into the interior. However, right as he is, he feels a soft yank on his right sleeve, pulling him from getting inside. While the pull is subtle, Rohan’s blue eyes shoot wide open, and he immediately stands up straight and slaps the source pulling his sleeve.

He turns to face the source, and just as he had predicted, it is Ekitai, standing right in front of him. Rohan glares with a clear agitation, like a weary and slightly pissed off father. He then speaks in a calm yet passive aggressive voice, “What?”

Ekitai chuckles nervously, and he begins scratching the back of his head before explaining, “So uhm…I don’t know how to really say this, but I don’t really have my own pod, so I was hoping I could join you!”

Rohan’s eyes contract to an even bolder glare, as he once again asks, yet in a now more explicitly aggravated voice, “What?”

Ekitai chuckles again, and he continues, “Well…I came here by shuttle, but like, the police is going to be here soon after that little fun thing back there, and it’s going to take too long to get another shuttle before they get here and if I’m still here they’ll question me and I’ll get in trouble for murdering that man back there.”

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Rohan keeps his disinterested glare on Ekitai, and he simply replies with, “Okay, and?”

Ekitai suddenly lunges towards Rohan, grabbing him with both hands on the collarbone and tugging with a surge of desperation. He begins shaking Rohan, who sways lifelessly, while crying, “I can’t go to prison! You don’t understand! I mean the time I’d have to stay there, I’d be there for so long not being able to do anything until I inevitably decide to break out but then when I do I’ll be a wanted fugitive and then I’ll have to live on the run again! I need to get out of here, c’mon your pod could hold both of us it’ll be fine, besides then you can have my company!”

Rohan, without changing his gaze, simply responds to the desperate request to, “Exactly.”

Effortlessly, Rohan steps back and frees himself of Ekitai’s hold without moving his hands out of his pockets. He then turns to face the construct which has been revealed to be a ‘pod,’ and steps inside, seating himself as though it were an automobile.

Where the opening once was, a black cloud appears before materializing an exterior wall, returning the exterior back to its initial state, and closing any passage into the pod with a deep whooshing sound, however sounding more as though sucking in like a vacuum than exploding out. With that simple move, Rohan escapes from Ekitai, ready to leave him alone.

Ekitai watches helplessly as the pod suddenly roars, awakening what may be its engine as the roar then reduces to a passive rumble. A soft blue glow then appears on the bottom of the pod as it then begins to lift off the ground by itself, hovering up about half a foot off the ground. With the pod now mobile and able to move, Ekitai steps to the side, knowing he can’t stop it with brute force methods.

His yellow eyes reflect the matte black pod as it hovers in stationary, and he lets out a soft sigh of defeat. He watches the pod rumble in front of him, remaining in place as it likely is about to begin moving until it gets too far for Ekitai to see.

The pod doesn’t seem to move however, awkwardly staying in place, as Ekitai awkwardly stands waiting for it to leave. He doesn’t move either, knowing every next second would be the one where it would leave, yet every next second nothing happens.

Then all to his surprise, he hears the explosive whooshing sound from the other side of the vehicle, which startles him, causing him to stagger back in confusion. He stands in silence for a few moments before then hearing the irritated voice of Rohan speak through the pod’s wall, “I’m going to close this door in five seconds and leave, either you can stay there or start moving.”

Ekitai’s eyes light up in overwhelming joy as a wide smile creeps up on his face. He then nods and sprints gleefully, shouting “Coming!” as he races to the other side.

Once Ekitai gets to the other side, the whooshing sound of closure indicates readiness, and the pod begins to ascend higher, up several feet. As it elevates, it also begins to start moving forwards and turning towards the roaring lanes. The pod picks up speed as it approaches the roaring lanes while climbing towards their altitude.

The pod leaves the black field and reaches the roaring lanes before immediately accelerating in speed and racing into the lanes with its own roaring engine. It turns right once it enters the racing sea, seeming to be entering the lanes themselves.

Inside the roaring lanes, the matte black pod flies forwards with its own roar. Surrounding the black pod are other pods similar to the ones in the black field, with most being metallic with a wide array of colors and shapes. Some seem to be rounder variants of Rohan’s pod, while others are far divergent with wider and taller bodies, with a shape similar to that of an SUV or van.

All of the pods drive in the same direction, with some in front or behind Rohan’s pod, and others above and below, as each lane seems to be full of racing pods. It’s a busy street, befitting of the busy city.

Inside the pod, Ekitai and Rohan are seated in the black seats, with Rohan’s eyes staring at the windshield with concentration. While there isn’t any physical wheel that he’s holding onto, it still seems that he’s controlling the pod’s movement through an invisible means.

Between the two lies a dashboard, albeit lacking physical buttons and dials. Instead, there is a smooth black surface, and on that surface are illuminated blue glowing buttons and other visuals such as text that read “Navigation” and “Broadcasts.” The visuals seem to pop out of the surface, and yet unattached, as if being projected off.

In front of Rohan, the windshield seems to project its own visuals as well, as all the pods in front of him dawn a faint highlight that enhances their presence, and there are digital gauges and numbers on the edges of the windshield. The interface is pronounced yet not distracting, and seems to hold the entirety of Rohan’s attention as he pilots in silence.

Ekitai’s body is slumped on his chair, seated like a child as his eyes wander around the vessel. His yellow eyes move from the windshield to the dashboard and to Rohan, with the only sound vanquishing the silence is the soft hum of the engine.

He tilts his head before curiously asking, “So, where are we going anyways? I take it you live here, so you probably know the best places. I’ve never come here before, always seemed so busy and corporate, I didn’t even want to check for reviews on places because they’re all probably bots or paid off. But hey it doesn’t look that bad, I mean it’s a bit different from other places but it has its own…flair. Bit flat though, don’t you think?”

But there’s no response, as Rohan continues to keep his eyes ahead in silence, not answering any of the questions. His eyes don’t move, his body doesn’t move, he just sits and concentrates as though there was nobody in the pod with him.

Ekitai blows air in the fashion of a bored child, and he insists, “Come on, you’re just driving forwards, nothing to stress over too much. So, who were those guys that came after you? The ones we beat up? They called you like, Tempest or something? I mean not the best alias, I mean you don’t even seem to have lightning powers so it seems irrelevant. But dang you handled them like a…like a…a…uh…hmm ....”

Ekitai seems to stumble on his words as he seeks an adequate metaphor, blinking and raising his head as though contemplating hard on an appropriate continuation. He tilts his head from side to side, quietly humming, “Uhhhhhhhhhhh.”

Rohan lets out a soft sigh, and without moving his eyes, he brings his right hand towards the dashboard, and presses on the button labeled “Broadcasts.” The dashboard then projects several more buttons, along with what appears to be a search bar on the top, as though he’s brought up a search browser of sorts. He then proceeds to click on the first button, which has the visual text “SIN.”

After the press, the dashboard then projects a new visual in the center of the screen, a window with a still image of an icon of the term “SIN” in a fancy sleek blue font with green details inside the characters, shaped similar to continents as though meant to look like Earths. Below the still image are several buttons such as an arrow and a square, seeming to be playback control buttons.

Audio begins to play from the walls of the pod’s interior, as an adult female voice speaks with explosive eccentrism from seemingly out of nowhere, announcing “Good morning people of the hundred worlds, my name is Victoria Vanagram, and I’ll be your host today for Superversal Impartial Network!”

As what seems to be a news broadcast continues to play, Rohan returns his right arm to his side, and keeps his concentration on the lanes ahead of him, seemingly using the broadcast as interruption to suppress Ekitai’s attempted conversation. His eyes stay sturdily ahead as his white locks rest against the back of his head.

Ekitai’s eyebrow raises in intrigue to the broadcast, as he tilts his head and hums curiously. His eyes face the still image of the news network icon, and he listens in silence, as the effortless distraction clearly succeeded.

The broadcast continues as the female voice informs in a slightly more calmed voice, “Now, before we get on with our usual program, I want to take some time to bring to light that it is the ten year anniversary of The Shield’s disappearance. For some context for the younger audience out there, the Shield was a beacon of hope for all worlds, gallant heroes that fought against the status quo of what was once thought to be a race of demons and showed that anyone can be anything and save lives.”

The anchor continues her speech, however her voice seems to waver with more sentiment, as though the next part of the speech brought her to the verge of tears: “Among those heroes was our very own city star, Meditat, our protector who turned Versepolis from a burning warzone of invincible destroyers into a stable home where people could thrive and see a future for themselves. He was the best of us, because while he fought the big threats, he was also there for the smaller people problems, a man that wanted this city’s people to not just be safe but happy too. While we unfortunately couldn’t ask him, I know he would be proud to see how far we’ve gone and how we’ve continued to carry his torch into the future ahead. I’d like to ask our audience to take a few moments of silence to commemorate our heroes, and our friends.”

The anchor silences as well, as for a few moments once again, the pod becomes nearly silent if not for the hum of the engine. The silence was bittersweet, as there was a soft tranquility to it, a clarity perceived through the absence of fog. The lack was music in itself, the hum as soft base and the silence as the melodic instrumentation.

Like a sharpened spear tearing through soft flesh, Ekitai interrupts the silence with his raspy voice, asking “So just wondering, were there more tourists when he was around or were there less? Like, did people think, ‘Woah cool a superhero, I want to see him’ or ‘Oh god it’s superheroes we got to stay away from there?’”

While Rohan doesn’t answer the question, his right hand, which was already balled, tightens as his own nails dig into his palm. It seemed there was no escape from the immense irritation felt, and as Rohan’s eyes stayed ahead, his right arm moved back to the dashboard, and the far right button on the playback button tab, which was red with a white cross. He presses on the cross, and the window vanishes, and the silence remains unresolved.

He retrieves his arm back to his side, and his hand loosens tension, calming back once again. He continues to focus on the lanes ahead without another word, but while he has not spoken, his expression was clear and bold.

The pod noticeably slows down however, as unbeknownst to Ekitai, they had arrived at his destination. The hum becomes quieter as the pod is gradually brought to a halt, and Rohan lets out a soft breath of air.

Once the pod comes to a complete stop, he announces calmly, “We’re here.”

Beside Ekitai, the pod walls dematerialize into a cloud before evaporating, creating an opening to exit the vehicle. Ekitai smiles and nods his head, his expression filled with anticipation and excitement, ready to see where they have arrived. The pod once again seems to be only half a foot off the ground, making it easy to depart, with the hum being soft. Ekitai immediately steps out of the vehicle, and out into the world, turning around as his coat unfolds down to his knees.

Ekitai stands outside beside the matte black pod, which resides above a black lane, with other pods behind him. In front of Ekitai is a massive silver building, with wide arches in the front. The building seems to extend beyond his eyes can see, and the arches loom above him.

There is a wide opening to the white interior of the building as though part of the wall along the entire side is missing, where he sees lanes of people standing in front of booths run by people in black and white uniforms.

Above every booth is a purplish blue sign composed of light similar to Rohan’s dashboard, projected large enough for clear visibility. Each booth has a similar sign, as the central one reads “Earth 64,” and the next one reads “Earth 65,” as it seems every booth is labeled as an Earth with a different number.

Ekitai’s eyes linger above to the exterior of the building, to which he sees another sign projected in light, which is more blue and reads: “Marktown Express Station Terminal 3.”

Ekitai’s eyebrow raises in perplexity, for he believed the destination would’ve been a dining establishment, or any establishment other than the one he finds himself in front of. Rohan didn’t seem to be interested in going off-world, as it would be a rather long stride from the present danger. Of all locations, this was the most peculiar possible, however there was a slight enthusiasm when fathoming the thought of adventures in the cosmos beyond.

Still puzzled, Ekitai’s mouth opens, and he turns around towards the pod while inquiring, “So, what are we doing-....”

However, as Ekitai makes the full turn, the matte black pod immediately races off, driving ahead and away from Ekitai in an instant. The loud roar of the sudden movement staggers Ekitai, and the hum of the pod draws fainter until silencing entirely.

Now even more stupefied, Ekitai turns towards the direction of where the pod had gone, finishing his question, “-here?” Ekitai continues to stand in place, stranded in front of the Express Station, as travelers inside the building continue down the lines towards the booth. In only a second, Rohan had separated from him, and now there was no sight of him.

Far up ahead, the matte black pod races down the lane, gradually ascending as though no longer intending for departure. The vehicle roars, enclosed as the passenger opening had been shut, and once again only one man resided inside.

Inside the pod, Rohan stays seated where he always was, now with nobody beside him. His eyes stay locked on the windshield, carefully navigating himself as he continues towards his original destination. His body is calm, as though he felt nothing after what he had done, regretless and cold.

As Rohan pilots the pod, he hears a voice echo in his head, one confined to him personally. The adult male voice has a pronounced British accent, and speaks with a formal yet apprehensive tone. The voice comments, “Well, that was quite the savage move.”

Rohan lets out a soft sigh after hearing the voice, as while he doesn’t seem surprised by it, he seems displeased to hear its criticisms. He responds out loud in the empty pod, “And a necessary one. You saw what happened in Castin, they’re growing faster, catching up to my suit’s defenses. It’s been clear for a while that I’ve been lagging, but today proved that I need to start taking this more seriously.”

The British voice inquiries in a sarcastic tone, “‘More seriously?’”

Rohan lets out a breath through his nose, and he explains, “As in I need to be more proactive. Right now this technology is the most stable weapon I have to fight, and the more I can rely on it the better. But if any regular man can get through it, I’m just another defenseless senior. I need to get some help on it, I need her. An actual useful ally.”

The British voice remarks curiously, “Hmm, that ‘Ekitai’ does seem to have combative capabilities. He did potentially save your life in that bar, he may be unique but he clearly was enthusiastic to work with you.”

Rohan shakes his head, refuting, “He ‘saved’ my life by ending that man’s. And in such a grotesque, brutal way, I’m going to see that in my sleep. He is clearly insane and I’d rather not be associated with him, his immature ‘enthusiasm’ only proves the childish nature of an unhinged lunatic. I would’ve survived anyways, I always do. I may be desperate, but I’m not suicidal.”

The British voice judges with an uncertain tone, “From the way you’re going about this, I don’t know if I follow your reassurance.”

Rohan sighs softly, and mentions, “You don’t need to be confident in me, I’ll bring an end to this, I know I will.”

The pod continues driving, now in a large sea of multiple vertical lanes like before, moving back towards the silver city beyond.

The pod eventually diverges from the main lanes, and ascends as it approaches one of the silver skyscrapers, which is remarkably colossal, standing above other neighboring towers.

As the pod draws closer to the smooth silver skyscraper, there seems to be an odd section of the building several stories tall, which is nearly open as though there was an enormous hole in the building with thin pillars holding the rest of the skyscraper up. It’s quite the unique and somewhat artistic design, and it’s the opening that the pod drives towards.

From inside the pod, Rohan notices the opening, and he concentrates more, his soft blue eyes glaring ahead. The pod slows down substantially, as the roaring engine calms to a soft hum, gliding towards the opening.

Drawing closer to the section, Rohan notices that inside the open area are an abundance of pods, as it seems to be a parking lot similar to the one the pod was marked in earlier outside the bar. Given the width of the building, the parking lot seems abundant in size, and it’s even noticeable that there are several levels.

The matte black pod reaches the highest level of the parking space, inserting itself through the adequate spacing it has. Inside the parking garage, which is well lit from the ceiling, the pod creeps past rows of parked pods, searching for a particular vehicle to stop by.

Inside the pod, Rohan’s eyes scan the garage before locking onto a particularly sporty and sleek pod, with a majestic green body and gold trims. He immediately recognizes it to be the correct one, and he brings his own vehicle towards it.

The black pod slows down as it aligns beside the green pod, now only half a foot off the ground. The pod ultimately comes to a full stop, and gently lowers onto the ground, in rest. The soft hum calms into silence, which is then interrupted by the explosive whooshing sound of the pod’s entrance being made.

The man in the leather jacket steps out of his vehicle, stepping onto the black surface his pod sits on. Once he leaves his vehicle, the vacuum whooshing sound follows, closing the exit.

Rohan, now standing out of his pod, puts his hands in his pockets and lets out a deep sigh, relieved to have finally arrived at his destination without hindrance. He quickly glances at his pod, confirming to himself that it’s asleep, and he turns around, ready to head to the interior of the building housing his ally.

However, right as Rohan turns around, his eyes shoot wide open in immense fear, his body engulfed in absolute terror as though he saw all nightmares incarnate in front of his eyes.

In front of Rohan stands a ghost, a demon, a fairytale monster manifested into reality. In front of Rohan stands the man in the brown overcoat, standing in front of him, panting loudly as his yellow eyes stare into the remains of Rohan’s soul.

Ekitai staggers forward, gasping for air as he points at Rohan’s pod, as though trying to communicate but being unable to as he seems severely dyspneic. He gulps to accumulate enough energy to speak, managing to explain, “I uh…forgot something…in your pod….”

Rohan blinks twice, and his eyes contract into a glare, as the moment of surprise is then shrouded in an eternity of irritation. He clenches his fists within his pockets, having thought that he reached freedom only to awaken in his cell.

He interrogates, “How did you find me?”

Ekitai takes a deep breath and lets it out, still struggling to regain energy. He steps forward again before pulling on his overcoat, revealing the inside to Rohan.

Inside the overcoat is the makeshift firearm with the coils around the barrel, the weapon he had used in the bar to murder that last man. With his other hand, Ekitai taps twice on the screen on the butt of the weapon, bringing specific attention to it, before elucidating, “The drinks I use for this little gun over here has a special signature I can trace, since all of them are homemade and special I know where all of mine are if I look for it. And well, I think I dropped one in your pod, they’re special so I need it. Can you open it?”

Rohan takes a deep breath and holds it, tilting his head as he suppresses himself. He lets out the breath, deciding that this would be a simple interaction that once over would allow him to continue his mission. He nods his head, complying, “Sure, go ahead.”

He turns to face the pod, and the sound of the explosive whoosh indicates that the passenger entrance has opened. He lets out a soft sigh, speechless of the fact that leaving his ammunition that he calls a ‘drink’ allowed him to effortlessly track him.

Ekitai smiles and lets go of the overcoat before staggering towards the passenger side of the pod and hopping in. The sound of shuffling and grunting is concerning, and Ekitai gives a short, “Owe!” as he seems to have bumped into something.

Alas, he steps back out, and walks around the pod towards Rohan again. However now, in his hands is a small transparent flask just like the one he revealed in the bar, with the flask containing some odd dark orange liquid. The liquid had bubbles within, and even gave off a soft glow, as though radiative or at the very least highly dangerous.

In front of Rohan, Ekitai pushes the cover off with his thumb, and brings the flask up to his mouth before drinking the orange substance inside. He raises the flask to drink faster, gulping down the glowing ominous liquid without regard or concern.

In one swig he finishes the whole flask, emptying it, and then raising the empty flask for Rohan to watch in despair. He smiles widely, his teeth revealed with orange stains, and he exclaims, “Got it!”

Rohan clenches his jaw and shakes his head, lost for words at the sheer insanity of the man before him. He lets out a sigh and admits, “Well, seems you got it, you can be on your way now-.”

However, before Rohan could finish speaking, he’s interrupted by an astounded and exuberant Ekitai who declares, “Wait, I just realized, I reunited with you again! Phew, I know you got confused and got the wrong address, no worries, it happens to the best of us! You must’ve been real focused on that driving to not notice I wasn’t there, you gotta loosen up a bit on the road bud, enjoy the ride! But what matters is that we’re together again, and we can continue our adventure right where we left off! Now, where to next?!”

Rohan initially smiles forcefully, his jaw clenched and his eyes squinting as he battles to maintain self control. He gulps hard and tries to take a deep breath through gritted teeth, feeling the burning sensation in his head from the absolute agony he feels.

What sin did he commit to warrant such punishment? With the doors to his destination within a few steps, there was no point of attempting another detour, for the best of the mission he’d have to continue moving forwards, even with the hindrance still stuck to him, pulling his leg.

It was an inevitability he attempted to fight against and failed regardless, and all he could do now was live with it, trying to push through with the chained ball on his ankle. It was incalculable to estimate how great of an obstacle this odd man would be for him, but he was stuck with him, and that fact was clear. He had to keep moving forward through the fog, regardless of what debris strikes him carried by the hostile wind.

Whether he liked it or not, he wouldn’t be alone on this journey.

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