Fetter Young dragged the body as its arms bounced against the stiff metal grate serving as the tunnels floor. "C'mon just a little more." A sparse green light shone around his hands for a moment, before fizzling out. He kept his eyes locked away from it, trying to keep the specifics out of his mind. The sounds of boots echoed from down the tunnel.

"Goddammit!" He shouted.

The boots stopped, right behind his field of view. "Halt! We will open fire if you make any sudden-"

Gunfire started as Fetter rushed towards them. A stray bullet hit him in the gut, but he had already made it to them, dashing far faster than a person should be capable across the walls of the tunnel, careful to keep their fire away from the ground.

As soon as he was on them, he was punching and kicking, right into vital areas. It was only a matter of seconds before all four of them were down. He had given no regard to how lethal his attacks were.

He stumbled back over to the body. "Fetter, you have to man up. Be strong. You have to get him out of here. He is your brother. You can see it in his face. Just. You need to," he said to himself. He stumbled down onto his knees as he arrived.

Fetter held up the body of his brother in front of him, looking into his face. His eyes were closed, and his neck was limp. He felt cold to the touch. Fetter slammed his fist into the wall of pipes next to him, busting one loose.

"Fuck! Fuck! I'll kill the bastards! I swear I'll fucking kill them all!" he screamed, with tears starting to well up in his eyes. He sunk his head down, trying to hold them back.

"Fetter?" The boy mumbled softly, nearly inaudibly.

"Don?!" Fetter touched his fingers to the boy's neck again, with no luck at finding a pulse. Finally, he felt a single beat. He could no longer hold back the tears and simply let them stream down his cheeks.

The boy was almost unrecognizable, with long silver hair flowing past his shoulders, bright golden scales covering his skin, and large leathery wings sprouting from his back. In a way it was beautiful, fantastical, like looking upon a mix between an angel and a dragon, but none of that mattered to Fetter. He just wanted to see his brother.

It was a while before the tears stopped coming. His hair started to stick to his face, with redness building up around his eyes as he kept rubbing them with his wrist.Fetter pulled his blond hair back from in front of his eyes, tying it back into its normal ponytail with his last good hairband.

"Fuck!" he yelled, readying himself. He threw Don over his shoulder, heavier than he remembered, and trudged on. His heavy footsteps sent echoes through the concrete hall, bouncing around off the pipes. As he walked, a pale green light surrounded them both and he sped up.

A trail of blood followed him, as he kept one hand gripping his stomach, he struggled onward, towards the surface. Don still felt cold to the touch, but Fetter felt warmer than usual. The pain from his side slowly disappeared, and the blood soon stopped trickling as a yellow light dimly shined from under Fetter's fingers.

Faint footsteps echoed from ahead of him in the tunnels. He ducked into a room, and after gently setting Don down, pushed the bulky metal door nearly closed, leaving just enough to see out. The inside was grotesque, with giant yellow pillars of ooze filled with all manner of specimens dotting the room. Some of them appeared nearly human, others were pure animals, like a wolf or snake. The only light came from inside the pillars, just adding to the unsettling atmosphere. Only one of them was empty, as though waiting for another specimen. The footsteps neared, and soon, the shadows ran past, cutting off the slim beam of light from the door. He waited for the sounds to vanish down the hall, before creaking the door slightly to look around. It was clear.

He moved along the claustrophobic tunnels, making sure to keep the side with pipes on his left. He needed somewhere to go once he escaped this hellhole. Don's face flashed through his mind as he tried to suck up his pride. "Don't worry Don. We'll be somewhere safe soon. I still got one friend alive at least."

He arrived at a ladder, the only option available, and the one he'd have to take. He struggled upwards, one step at a time, one hand on the ladder's rungs, one hand on Don. He finally hit the cover at the top, and pushed it with his head as he climbed up higher. It was heavy, ridiculously so, but it budged as a green light came over it, and slowly raised up with him, tilting over until it finally clattered to the side. He was in District 7, unusually close to his target.

After pushing the cover back with his foot, he took off his tattered green jacket, and put it over Don. The wings were oddly folded underneath, but it did enough a job of hiding them. After picking him back up, he took a left out of the alley, heading due east as the sun set behind him, bumbling through the thick crowd with Don slumped on his back. The people avoided him, but barely took notice that he was even there, preferring instead to keep their eyes focused ahead, or on their phones. People gave quick glances, but no one said a word to him.

After forty or so minutes, he had arrived, right at the base of the dullest apartment tower he had ever seen in this city, and that included the broken down shithole of District 13. The walls were made up of seemingly random divots and balconies, all in a dim grey, with a unhealthy covering of rust to top it off. It looked worse than the slums. There wasn't an ounce of color, not even someone hanging clothes out to dry, or a plastic chair on a balcony.

He broke out of the crowd and stepped onto the stairs. They creaked under their combined weight. He went five flights up, and to the fourth door on the left, number 601. He knocked loudly and waited a moment. He let out a sigh and banged five more times. A crashing noise came from the other side after a single thud of a footstep, with what sounded like a dozen tiny cymbals. The door creaked open, with an eye peeking out.

"Oi, Nero, I'm calling in that favor. This isn't optional."

The eye at the door disappeared. "It's open."

He stepped in, pushed the door open with his knee. Halfway open, it stopped with a small crash. Stepping inside, he saw dozens of cans now scattered around the room, having rolled away from the epicenter of the disaster, the computer desk. Fetter lowered Don onto the clearest spot he could see on the darkened floor, and shut the door.

"Nero, I need blankets. And food, water."

Nero carefully stepped back over the cans again, guided by the light of his screen. "Who's this?" he asked, his voice barely changing in tone. Fetter could see just the faintest reflections of Nero's face, but it was as though his eyes were glazed over.

"It's Don."

"Huh," he said, without even glancing down. "There's cups in the one left of the sink. I think I have a spare blanket in the closet."

Nero was just as irritating as ever. The kid was so depressed he was unmoved by anything. The only times he'd even seem him feel alive was when he was being rescued. Fetter nearly bolted towards the closet, his brain connecting the scales with the low body temperature.

"What's the rush?" Nero asked, monotone.

"Open your fucking eyes Nero. Turn on the goddamn light or something. Here it is." Fetter flicked on the light. "Fuck!"

Nero grimaced, squinting his eyes tightly shut. His face was gaunt, with the deep bags under his eyes, only slightly hidden by his cheap plastic glasses. His t-shirt was turning an odd shade of yellow, and his short black hair was entirely unkept. As he pulled open his eyes, he looked down at Don, then back up.

"Fetter what the hell happened?"

"I don't know what happened to him, I just-"

"No, to you."

"What?" Fetter nearly did a double take, unable to hide his confusion.

"You are covered in blood, and-"

"That's not important right now, I need to make sure Don is okay."

"He's not bleeding, wait, are those scales?" Nero was now peering down at Don. "Huh."

"Like I was saying, I don't know what the hell happened to him. I don't even know who did this to him. But I know it's him. He healed me. He even has the same face."

"So those are scales. What's his pulse... Oh that's cold, get him to the bed and I'll get some hot water in the bath. That should be gentle enough to warm him up without putting him in shock."

Nero headed into the bathroom.

Fetter threw a pile of clothes off of the bed and onto the floor before gently setting Don on it. He pulled the blanket over him. Two golden eyes stared up at him.

"Don! You're awake."

"Fetter... I'm cold."

"It's okay, It's okay. I've got you. I won't lose you too."