Deep cyan hues permeate the room, reflecting off the two white couches in the room facing each other, separated by a hovering coffee table. The rich sunset rays illuminate the two people sitting on the nearby couch, as well as the other person sitting on the farther one, reaching even the distant white walls that enclose the room.

All three silhouettes face forward, warmed in the sunlight in initial silence. The figure on the near couch sitting on the left wears a white hoodie and has long pink hair, and the fellow on the right is dressed in a brown overcoat and has a bald head. The individual on the far couch, who is seated in the very center between the two, is dressed in a formal black blazer over a white top, and has amber hair relatively short with bangs.

As her gentle hands rest on her lap, sitting on the linings of the black leggings, Dana softly queries, “So, both of you understand, right?”

Facing her, the first reaction is of the man in the overcoat, who slouches down against the white couch and reaches his hand inside his coat. He then pulls out a flask of purple liquid, filled to the top, and brings it up to his mouth before taking several sips.

After obtaining the desired supplement, he moves the flask away from his mouth and lets out a sigh. He then simply admits, “Got it.”

Beside him, the woman leans forward, her hands resting by her side. She nods her head before gazing back at Dana with her pink irises, confirming “I do, sorry.”

Dana gives a warm smile before nodding her head, assuring “No need to apologize hun, that’s all that matters. I know the way he put it was harsh, but it is true that you two arguing like that isn’t healthy. I know it’s a sensitive topic, but remember we’re all friends here, okay Ekitai? Kokei?”

Kokei sighs in admission, nodding her head again. She attempts to justify, “We don’t do that much, it’s not like a deep rooted issue, we’re still good friends. But I guess it was a bit unfair for me to put you through that.”

Dana softly giggles before once again reassuring, “As I said, don’t be sorry to me, I was just worried about both of you.”

Kokei lowers her head, her eyes scattering as she seems to ponder silently. Her hands crawl to tight fists that grip the leather sofa, and she tilts her head to hide her face, which reddens upon delivering the question: “Do you and…Rohan argue about that stuff? I mean…I guess I don’t know your own standings or if he even does-, but still-.”

Leaning back against the sofa’s soft backrest, Dana recalls, “Well, I guess we technically have had debates over the subject, but probably not in the way you’d think.”

Kokei raises her head with a puzzled tilt, giving a “Hmm?” to convey the sense of disclarity in the ambiguous response.

“Well, I guess it’s complicated, he’s complicated, it’s a whole thing. Don’t worry about it, I guess all friends argue anyways, isn’t that right? All that matters is we always keep in mind who we’re arguing with,” Dana gives a roundabout response, neglecting diving into personal depth. She turns her gaze towards the window in the room, staring at the rays of the sunset as though idling in the abyss, for regardless it seems Kokei’s question leaves her in deep thought.

Another sip of the purple conctotation is taken before Ekitai insights, “Not meaning to start another fight, but I did kinda find it funny that you brought up the whole legacy thing the other day. I swear, I’ve already met people who talk about the same thing, like those tough guys at the house. Man probably gets a lot of slack, especially if he’s used to getting into fights with those groups.”

Waving her hand back and forth, Kokei mentions, “Well, it’s his fault for parading around with a mask that clearly is supposed to resemble Meditat’s, he got those goggles and the eye streak things and all. Even if that mask is physical and has some kinda value, he could like: decorate it or something, I don’t know. There’s no excuse, it’s just insensitive and insulting.”

Agog by a pattern she’s been picking up on, Dana turns her focus from the window and back on Kokei, leaning forwards with keen eyes. She ponders inquisitively, “It seems like you’re pretty defensive over Meditat. I guess if you’ve been a resident of Versepolis for a while then it makes sense that you know of him, but it’s interesting just how much anything against him irks you. I guess you used to view the news a lot back when he was, well…around?”

In response to the question, Kokei turns from Ekitai to Dana, lowering her hand and returning it to her side. She tilts her head from side to side as though the question was more complicated than intended, tilting her eyebrow as she contemplates how to answer.

While swaying her head, she abridges, “Well…I mean I guess most residents on a surface level know of him…but well…hmm…it’s not just what I hear, I guess it’s probably that one experience with him that’s made me this appreciative if I think about it.”

Taken aback, Dana tilts her head while repeating, “Experience?” in an intrigued voice, her curiosity further strengthened.

On the contrary, Ekitai lets out an exhausted sigh, moaning “Oh please don’t go over this again. It’s not even that crazy of a story, it pales in comparison to the time I accidentally got caught trying to steal one of those cool swords from that Japanese faction, like the one who was in the war out in the rim! I didn’t even know anyone was in that post, I tried to act like I didn’t know what they were saying but I didn’t realize they knew English so I kinda screwed myself over. It’s unfair though, I heard they have these special swords that have these cool like kinetic things or something. I mean if they’re seriously using swords in a war, you know they gotta be something special! Imagine me dualing a sword and my gun, that’d be something else.”

Regardless of the interesting premise Ekitai presented in his own anecdotes, Dana keeps her gaze on Kokei, clarifying her question: “What experience did you have?”

After huffing in exaggerated dismay, Ekitai waves his flask around while grouching, “Oh fine whatever, yeah who cares about a run-in with an entire faction, let’s hear about Kokei’s kitchen misadventures! I’m too sober for this.” He then tilts his head up and begins chugging his flask, drowning out his sorrows after being neglected.

“Huh? What ‘kitchen misadventures’? What’s that about?” Dana only becomes more befuddled, losing apprehension with every word spoken. Ekitai’s short tantrum hadn’t helped, but at least he apparently is now pacifying himself, allowing Kokei to speak.

Chagrined by Ekitai’s awkward titling, Kokei sighs with fatigue, dropping her head. She raises it back up however, respirited by Dana’s persistence, and takes in a deep breath with closed eyes to prepare herself. After letting the air out, she opens her eyes and manages a smile, leaning back and raising her head. While staring up towards the sky, she immerses herself in the images of her memory.

The first images of the reel depict what is recalled to be a toilet stall, luminescent with white light that shone on a perfectly clean smooth white floor and wall. Surrounding the square were three white stall walls which fully box the space in, although they emanated a thorough luminosity indicative of a projection rather than a solid construct.

Against the physical wall of the restroom sat a girl with fair skin, appareled in a clean white dress under a bright pink apron which had an icon over the chest which resembled a white cupcake in a top down view, with variously colored sprinkles in a pattern that formed a cutesy smiling face.

The girl stared up at the ceiling with pink irises, her long pink hair behind her as she patiently sat on what could’ve been assumed to be the toilet, her shoes planted on the white floor. Silence consumed the stall, for there did not seem to be any others in the area, or at least none whose sounds reached her. It was only the girl, serene in solitude, isolated in her own temporary heaven.

Recollecting the old memory, Kokei narrates, “It was decades ago, way back when I worked my old job at a bakery. I was at that bakery for years, I mean you know how much I love to bake so I had stuck with that place even though they didn’t really pay the best.”

Without much to do inside the stall, soldered to the seat, the girl’s attention drifted from the ceiling down to the stall wall in front of her. She hummed gently to keep herself company, her hands interlocked with one another and placed on her lap.

Kokei continues in detail, “It was a regular Friday, I had about half an hour before the end of my shift. I was in the restroom when it all happened, just sitting there, twiddling my fingers, just another day of baking and selling, I mean working at a bakery isn’t really all that crazy. It was a peaceful day though I remember, well I guess all days were peaceful, but it was a good day. I felt bad spending the end of my shift basically on a break, but I was more so excited about the weekend since I had plans with a friend to watch a movie that had just come out which I had been watching the trailers of whenever they’d come out. And then….”

The gentle humming was then suddenly deeply buried underneath distant shouting, as while no words could be made out and the sound was greatly muffled, it was clamorous enough to snatch the attention of the girl, whose head turned towards the source to her left.

The shouting oddly continued, further concerning the girl, who leaned forwards. In fact, it only got louder and more intense as more voices joined the chorus, different tones mixed into the tune.

But even the shouting was soon buried by a quakening boom resembling an explosion, and the soft white light gracefully illuminating the stall flickered, shuttering the girl.

Seconds after, a blaring siren screeched from all directions, a shattering volume contradictory to the tranquil silence experienced moments ago. The siren repeated to no end, piercing the girl’s ears, who covered them and leaned her whole body forwards in an instinctual reaction of being overwhelmed.

Moments passed as the siren continued to scream, the lights still flickering as though all hell's breaking loose. At last, the front white stall wall dispersed like a light being turned off, revealing the girl behind, who was now standing up after the forcefully punctuated conclusion to her break.

She immediately stepped forwards, standing in the open restroom which too has white floors and walls, with a row of white slabs along the far wall ahead of her, and behind her are a longer row of stalls all without front walls, indicative of an absence of occupants.

After glancing around the restroom, the girl turned towards the exit before approaching it, cusping both of her hands before her in cowardice while the sirens continued to yell at her. Reaching the door, indicated by a light gray rectangular construct, the door dematerialized to allow exit.

Right upon the door’s opening, deep oranges blinded the girl as the sound of fire crackles accompanied the siren. After shielding her eyes for a couple seconds, the girl allowed herself to step forward and observe her surroundings, as in front of her was the main bakery with wooden floors and walls decorated with paintings, filled with various tables and benches. On the right side of her was a long tabletop on a transparent compartment with three shelves, and within those shelves were an assortment of baked treats such as breads and cakes.

However, all of that was being devoured in flames that swarmed the entire bakery, and there were even piles of debris on the floor from holes in the ceiling. The dense flames made it difficult to even properly survey the room, and the overpowering warmth made it all the more discomforting.

What was visible was the walls of flames between her and the distant exit, which was hardly visible through the thick smoke. Glimpses of the day’s light could be seen though, and amongst the siren and crackles were distant screaming from towards the exit.

The girl’s first instinct took her a step forwards, but the flames suddenly blossomed into greater proportion, halting her in terror. There was no conceivable path to the exit, as the entire bakery had been consumed in live flames, giving no path to escape.

Kokei recounts, “The entire bakery was on fire. It seemed everyone else got out safely, which I’m thankful for, but me having been in the restroom meant I gave enough time for the fire to spread to the point where there was no way out. It was a nightmare, this place that’s been like my second home for years was just crumbling in front of my eyes. And seeing that there was no easy way to walk out without likely burning myself, I did the second thing my mind thought of.”

Turning right around from the exit, the girl focused on the area behind the long table full of baked goods, specifically on an open doorway. Her destination set, she took off, racing towards the table as flames raged all around her. After getting behind the table beside it, she reached the doorway successfully.

Although for a moment her concentration was incinerated by all the surrounding flames, for she still couldn’t bring herself to believe what she was witnessing. She took another glance at the bakery, which was now more orange than brown, the exit door right ahead of her yet intangible, guarded by the wall of flames and debris. She then turned around, noticing that there was heavy smoke farther down the table, however she also understood that she had little time to stand around. She turned back to face the doorway, and sprinted inside.

Destination reached, the girl found herself in a large kitchen with silver walls and a white floor. Along the walls are silver machinery and equipment, tall cabinets with transparent doors revealing ovens with multiple shelves, tables with some having silver countertops and others with black tops and pans resting as though they were stoves, as well as other appliances.

What grabbed her attention the most however was the left side, which was already in flames. It became apparent that the flames were originating from one of the ovens on the far side, which was completely disfigured, with parts either on the floor or blackened from heavy burns. A mess surrounded the oven as other equipment were thrashed around and badly damaged. Walking deeper into the room made it clear as well that beside the oven was a huge hole in the wall separating the kitchen from the bakery, which was heavily shrouded in smoke from flames passing through.

Kokei chronicles, “I ran into the kitchen because I figured I should try getting somewhere the least flammable, at least not covered in wood, but that’s where I realized what had happened: There had been some accident and the oven exploded. That must’ve been what the screams were before the explosion, I guess they realized before, but they couldn’t do anything. At least there weren’t any bodies or anything that grotesque so they all likely made it to safety, which I’m glad about. I was close to a lot of them, in the years I was there they had become something like a family to me. But I realized after getting there that I sort of overlooked something about my hiding spot being in a bakery kitchen.”

Indeed, as the girl approached the left side to confirm no casualties, initially under the presumption that she was safe given that the kitchen itself wasn’t flammable, she noticed that along the wall flames were continuing to grow, as they were in fact gradually consuming the kitchen. The process wasn’t as rapid due to the lack of flammable material to crawl on, but it wasn’t necessary being caught in those moving flames that was most horrific.

After glancing at the hole and then back at the ruined oven, she noticed that the flames that were gradually traversing the kitchen were approaching a batch of several large brown bags placed along the floor against the countertops. Her heart sank immediately upon reading a single word of fine print on each of the bags, all of them reading: “FLOUR.”

On first instinct, she turned around and dashed away, knowing full well what horrible reaction would follow contact between the bags and flame. In that moment of clouded despair, her foot got caught in one of the large chunks of metal from the dismantled oven, causing her to trip towards with a thud and yelp.

She turned to face the flames, and in a desperate attempt to combat the growing beast, she aimed both hands at the flames while still on the floor. She gritted her teeth, which spark pink, as her eyes radiate. More pink electric arcs began sizzling around the girl’s body, concentrated on her hands.

In a defensive effort, a barrage of pink electric arcs leap off her hands and body, bolting towards the flames with the intention to freeze it similar to the effects she could place on people.

Upon impact, the flames bloomed with far greater intensity, as rather than slowing the flames, the energy had only fed it. Never having needed to use her abilities in this specific application, she had accidentally advanced her own demise, for the enlarged flames were now nearly touching the bag, and the girl was still on the floor.

The only other instinct remaining in her was to bring her arms up to shield her face, cowering in terror upon emanant doom, for in that moment, she accepted that this would be her final day of work. She shut her eyes tightly and shuttered, knowing that she hadn’t the time to get up, and that resistance was truly futile.

Kokei delineates exactly, “My coworkers weren’t exactly the tidiest people in the world, and little did I know but they had left flour bags by the table. It was probably Jared that did that since he usually is in charge of that work, and I know he typically likes keeping his materials right where he works, and to be fair I doubt he ever anticipated this. And as you probably know, fire and flour doesn’t end well, and I somehow got myself tripped on the mess. And then like an idiot, I figured that since those powers you saw back at my house have the capacity to freeze people, maybe I could just stop the fire from reaching the flour, so I just mindlessly threw my lightning at it. And instead, I just fueled the fire because I guess It’s not as simple as that, I mean I’d have thought I fully knew my own powers but I guess maybe I hadn’t needed to stop a fire like that before so I didn’t know. So I was just there, ready to die, I think I probably prayed to gods I never learned of, I just remember trying to not think because I didn’t want to go sobbing.”

As the orange flames slithered towards the closest brown flour bag, and the chunk of metal laid below the girl’s foot, the girl’s face was tightly squeezed, bracing for silence.

A boom erupted. Darkness covered the girl. Tempestuous whooshes followed. Finally, a blaze roared.

In the complete darkness laid before death’s door, a voice spoke.

“Take my hand,” offered the voice, one that vaguely resembled a human male, although heavily distorted and artificially deepened with a greater echo.

The girl loosened her face and opened her eyes, her pink irises peering through tears that had swelled up. They then suddenly expand in astonishment, staring up at the source of a shadow that covered her body. Her jaw dropped as she struggled to find words, her body still shaking heavily from the fear of death.

In front of her stood a being in front of a gaping hole above the countertop, torn when she wasn’t looking, flooding cyan light into the room, beaming right into him. Behind him waved a black cape composed of a chainmail-esc material, albeit at the same time somewhat silky. His chest was covered in an azure, metallic casing although so sleek that it’s nearly slim fit. A golden metallic piece wrapped around his neck and sat on his collar, shoulder, and upper arm, which didn’t jut out relative to the azure case, but rather seamlessly integrated itself.

In the center of his chest was a large emblem that resembled a simplified pencil, rectangular with a sharp end, which resonated a powerful azurous glow with four streaks extending from it, one of which extended off the top of the pencil and fed directly into the collar covered by the golden piece. Two of them extended from the sides just above the sharpening point, where one would feasibly grip a pencil, and both of them followed down the sides of his arms below the gold.

Both of his forearms were dressed in gauntlets, with the top of the forearm being carbon fiber black, which extended to the hand past the wrist. The middle of the gauntlet was white, and connected the azurous streak to the hand, and below the white shell was the bottom case which was the same blue as the chest, with six distinct plates on each side.

His abdomen had three stripes over where his abs would be, with the top and bottom stripes being black and the central one being white. The final streak protruding from the emblem stretched from the tip of the pencil, curving down along the left side of the abdomen, and on the right side on each of the stripes was a small pencil-shaped aperture which also glowed.

On the man’s waist was a golden belt with another pencil-shaped aperture in the center, and two angled apertures on both sides which somewhat resemble arrows, all glowing. Between each of the arrows extended a wider streak which ran down the thigh, past three large white horizontal streaks over the same azure base.

The man wore tall black boots that reached his kneecap, each of them having four small parallelogram apertures on the shin forming a rectangle, and the foot had a series of scales from the ankle to the toe.

A hood made of the same silky chainmail rested over the man’s face, which was concealed behind a white mask with wide parallelogram-shaped goggles and two angled parallelograms along the side which converge by where the mouth would have be, stopping at its edges, resembling a headset microphone in a way.

Below the eyes were ridges where the nose would be, and protracting off each of the centermost diagonal lines of the parallelogram goggles were arced streaks that follow upwards under the hood. At the same time, right above the two arcs of the mask were two far wider ones on the hood which also glowed, all the same azurous hue, which wrapped around the hood like an extension, as the entire suit seemed to flow together like it’s all one piece.

While most of the suit was composed of a metallic material, it was tailored and sleek like fabric, and all of the various pieces of the suit such as the golden shoulders, boots, gauntlets, and azure base fitted together seamlessly in a slim fit composition that makes the metal armor appear more like clothing.

The man stood over the girl, his right hand extended down to her, his cape waving in front of the blinding light.

The girl blinked twice in disbelief, the siren continuing to blare in her ears. She turned her head to glance around the room, and noticed that not only were the three flour bags suddenly on the entirely far side of the room where she had come from, but the flames inside the room were extinguished. However, there was still the distant sound of fire crackling in the bakery, indicating that the disaster was far from resolved.

She reached both of her hands up towards the man, her right hand grabbing onto his carbon fiber hand, and her left gripping onto her wrist. She was still shaky and disoriented, but with the pull of the man, her body was pulled off the ground and up to her feet.

After the girl was pulled to her feet enough that she could stand, the man calmly asked her, “Are you hurt?”

Still combating the disorientation of the surreal experience, the girl shook her head, expressing the thought in the forefront of her mind: “The bakery…it’s on fire….”

The man nodded his head in acknowledgement, and raised it to gaze at the gaping hole by the oven. He then turned back to face the girl before inquiring, “Can you stand on your own?”

The girl only nodded her head in response, shaken and overwhelmed but able to keep her footing. She slowly let go of his hand and wrist, to which the man loosened his own hand to free her. After she stepped back, the man promptly began approaching the hole, passing her.

Turning around to observe him, the girl watched as the man marched towards the hole, his cape dancing in the wind being shot in through the other hole behind him. She watched as the man confidently marched into the smoke, and into the blazing hell.

Entering the orange inferno, the man was greeted by a devastating state of the bakery, which was now nearly entirely in flames, the walls and floor all orange with the exception of the piles of debris, as it was a truly horrid sight. He silently surveyed the raging flames that were consuming the bakery, analyzing his task.

His fingers relaxed, being moved back and forth as he prepared himself. He let out a soft breath, and put his right foot forward.

Being watched by the girl from behind, the man raised both of his hands towards the room, aimed away from his chest at an acute angle. His entire arms suddenly caught on fire, which immediately terrified the girl, but that is until she noticed the fire that was covering the man, for rather than orange, it was azurous. The blue flames covered his hands before bursting forward, being shot out in their respective directions towards the floor.

As the blue flames impacted the ground, the flames themselves didn’t interact with the fire, but rather on the area of impact the blue flames began growing and contorting, being shaped unnaturally into cylindrical constructs sitting on the ground, eventually morphing from a shape of flames into a solid object.

The cylinders then recolorize from the blue of the flames into a grated exterior similar to a vent, although completely encompassing the cylinder.

After the man relinquishes both blue flames, the two constructs remain in place, but not only that, both of them begin emanating waves of light blue energy from the vents in pulses, like constant shockwaves that reach the walls. Astonishingly, with every wave of energy, the flames die down, being reduced swiftly.

Making haste, the man then aims his hands at various other points of the floor distant from the currently placed extinguishers, and fires more streams of blue flames, which also manifest the same grated cylinders through the same process of solidification and texturing. After being completed, they immediately begin pulsing more waves, which extinguish more flames.

With every blue flame, another extinguisher appears, with two at first, then four, then six, then eight, until there are rows of extinguishers all along the once blazing floor of the bakery, all outputting waves that decimate the flames.

Nothing short of wonderstruck, the girl watched the flames that seemed impossible to pass through a minute ago be rapidly shrunk down, exposing the charred surfaces of the bakery, which while permanently scarred was still remaining in some state.

She slowly made her way through the hole, approaching the man who finally stopped deploying extinguishers now that there were more than enough at work. He simply watched over the process, ensuring that the flames would be fully eliminated. The girl watched from the man’s shoulder as the final remaining flames on the walls were suffocated before being vanquished into smoke which dissipated soon after.

All the flames extinguished, the man raised his right hand, and made a simple wave gesture. As he did, all of the extinguishers he had manifested suddenly morphed into blue flames which then bursted into mist, evaporating at an instant and being effectively destroyed.

The girl stepped beside the man, looking out into the bakery, which while the flames had been put out was still largely destroyed. The furniture were in pieces, much of the walls and floor were charred and sunken as parts of the wood were entirely consumed. It was the aftermath of an apocalypse, but survival was achieved.

The man turned to face the girl, who was taller than her, and offered, “Come, I’m sure your coworkers are waiting for you outside.”

The girl turned to face the man, and she nodded her head, accepting “Yeah, I think so.”

As the last clouds of smoke gradually dissipated in the room, the man and the girl walked through the burnt establishment, passing the ruined furniture and burnt gashes in the walls. Through the fogging smoke, the azureus luminosity shines through, carving a path out through the darkness. He remained right beside her, eyeing her path, and pulling her sleeve whenever she approached a pile of debris that wasn’t easily visible.

Eventually, the two reached the exit, walking through the open doorways into the blinding outdoors. In the streets of the city of silver buildings, a massive crowd of people stand in front of the entrance, as well as a battalion of parked pods.

While the siren from the building was no longer audible, other sirens gradually became louder from a distance, as though the sources were racing towards them.

Immediately upon exiting the building, the crowd began murmuring at the sight of the man, whose cape danced in the wind of day.

Emerging through the sea of people, several adults in white dresses and suits under pink aprons with the same cupcake icon rushed towards the girl, and a woman with long red hair grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into an embrace.

The group of adults, clearly coworkers, began hammering her with questions: “Are you okay,” “Are you hurt,” “Where were you,” “What happened,” and others meshed together in a general sense of both concern but also overwhelming relief.

From a distance, large red pods raced towards the building, flashing red and white lights while emitting the sirens. Other white pods accompanied them as people began moving to make way for them. Some pods came to a halt, and doors dematerialized, allowing men and women in black uniforms with yellow stripes to step out and make way towards the calamity.

In all the disarray, the girl turned her head around to face the man, who stood behind her, surveying the scene. He then caught her gaze, and in those few moments of staring at one another, the sirens and voices were tuned out of the girl’s head, as all she could focus on was the being in the cape, a faceless guardian.

The man then made a soft nod, to which the girl’s instinctual response was to nod back, as though acknowledging his request of knowing if she would be alright.

Upon receiving the response, the man tilted his head up, and a massive burst of blue energy erupts from his position, projecting him straight up into the air at rocket speeds. The sudden burst caused some of the crowd to stagger and murmur again, as a blue streak in the sky ascended where the man was before arcing and soaring through the sky, far from visibility in a second. One second there, another gone.

While the men and women in the black and yellow uniforms continued to make their way through the crowd and the coworkers continued to comfort the girl, all the girl could do was stare up at the sky in silence, her pink eyes wide open as contrary to the believed reaction, not a single thought was in her mind.

There was just silence.

Silence and awe.

A heavy breath exudes from Kokei’s mouth after reciting the story, and she leans her head back against the couch.

Dana sits across from her, leaning forward in amazement of the story, her green irises wide as her hands lay in her lap.

As opposed to Dana’s heavy reaction, Ekitai takes another sip from his flask, and then turns to Kokei. He blinks twice before sarcastically remarking, “Oh, it’s over?”

Sighing again, but now in disappointment, Kokei glances at Ekitai and confirms, “Yes it is, I wonder how much of that you got.”

Ekitai chuckles and leans back before retorting, “Enough to tell me I need to make something stronger.”

Breaking the banter, Dana notes “I see…I guess that would explain some things. I’m glad you ended up being okay.”

Gleefully neglecting the quips as well, Kokei turns to focus on Dana and agrees, “Yeah, I’m also glad I’m not dead, I would prefer to be not dead. But yeah, sorry if I rambled a bit…I probably rambled a little…sorry~.”

“No no, you were fine,” responds Dana.

“No no, you rambled a lot,” responds Ekitai.

The two exchange glances of aggression and smugness, but both of them change focus upon Kokei explaining, “Well yeah, so that’s why. So even if I guess I’m glad I didn’t also die the other day at my own house, I guess I just get really frustrated with the way Rohan just haphazardly wears a mask so clearly resembling Meditat’s, especially since it seems rather than doing good he’s just starting fights. I know Meditat’s most well known for his crusade against the Exhuman terrorism problem, but he wasn’t just a warrior, he was a hero. I wasn’t about to die from some Exhuman with fire powers, there was no ‘bad guy’ to beat up, it was just a human incident that he saved a potential casualty from. So I know your instinct is to defend him, I get it: you see him as a friend, and even though Ekitai is kind of breathing garbage I’d still defend him against someone trying to actually insult him. But I hope you get why I really, really don’t like how someone is wearing that mask to do nothing but fight. It makes my skin crawl thinking there are people out there that confuse what Meditat stood for and what Rohan is doing. He’s not a kid either, he should be mature enough to know that wearing that mask doesn’t make him a hero, all it does is make him an insult. All he’s doing is hurting the legacy of a good man.”

In an instinctive reaction, Dana opens her mouth to respond, raising her finger up as though prepared to make a counterpoint. However, she then lowers her finger, and closes her mouth, lowering her head in contemplation. She lets out a soft sigh of defeat, unable to argue back. She silently sits on her couch, staring down in front of the other two.

Inside the room, Ekitai registers, “Wait, did you call me garbage?”

Outside the room on the other side of the wall rests the back of a person, dressed in a grayed leather jacket. The chapped mouth lets out a soft sigh, as the head tilts downwards.

The man who wears the mask leans against the wall, his locks of hair draping down beside his hollow blue eyes, his pale hands hidden in his pockets. His lifeless eyes stare into the void with an expressionless face. He slowly blinks, snapping back to reality before pushing himself off of the wall. He raises his head as his face remolds, his eyebrows bending and his eyes contracting into a face he doesn’t wear without the mask.

A face of wrath.

“Prepare initiation for Operation Entropy. I will be executing it tonight,” he sternly commands before marching forward.