[2:11pm]

BANG!

The gun that was in John’s hand was fired. The bullet ricocheted against the back corner of the train car, eventually finding purchase within an overturned seat. The hand that housed the gun, however, was held by Fang. Just before John managed to pull the trigger, Fang turned around, intercepting and pushing the hand away from their head.

“What was that you said?” Fang asked, still holding John’s arm.

John pulled free and relaxed the pistol near their hip. “Hmph, I suppose you’ve gotten better,” they replied. “Or maybe that was just a lucky guess.”

They both stood there, still as can be, staring at each other. There was a palpable animosity behind each set of eyes. Whatever history they held, it was once littered with strife and conflict.

“Let’s find out,” Fang said.

As if they knew what the other was thinking, they both jumped backward, pressing their back against opposite sides of the car. At the same, they raised their pistols at each other and pulled the trigger.

A hailstorm of bullets rang out, penetrating every square inch of the metal walls and floor. However, not a single one managed to fully pierce Fang or John. With each rapid pull of the trigger, they would take a step toward each other, all while moving out of the way of the other’s assault. There would be dozens of shots zipping through the air, just barely missing both of them. Some would graze Fang’s skin, but nothing managed to get too deep.

Before they knew it, they had already met in the middle. With the exact same swiftness, they both pointed their pistols at the other one’s foreheads. Neither of them hesitated to pull the trigger.

CLICK CLICK. Both guns had run out of ammo just as the train passed into a tunnel.

“Interesting,” John stated.

“Damn,” said Fang.

They both lowered their weapons and glared at each other. Fang’s eyes were filled with scorn, glazed over with contempt. John’s, however, remained neutral and superior. There was a building tension within the foot of distance between their faces, crackling with potential energy.

Then, all at once, like a spark was lit between their gazes, they both projected and unleashed their mental waves without restraint. The sheer force of their psychic energy forced them both back a few feet, sliding on their feet. John managed to remain upright, only hunching a bit for balance. Fang, on the other hand, had to drop to one knee and prop themselves up with a single hand.

Neither of them stopped their mental assault.

Their psyotic waves continued to not only barrage each other, but physically decimate the space around them. Normally, the act of projecting mental waves couldn’t interact with physical objects except to maybe vibrate them a bit. However, their mastery of this hidden human skill was at a level unlike anyone else. If the average Resonator was a drop of water, they would be the entire ocean. After all, they've been “trained” by their father since they were little. Those horrid years of brutal mental annihilation, experimentation, and fatigue built up two monsters—two siblings who now stood in opposition.

“Why do you continue to fight for him?” John asked, their neck beginning to tense from their constant use of resonance. “He is a madman!”

“Our father is a savior,” Fang retaliated, a bit of blood trickling out of their nose. “He is the one who will bring freedom to this world!”

John took a step forward, widening their eyes. “How can you say that? He wants to take choice away from the world. He’s nothing more than a tyrant in disguise. Wake up, Fang!”

“I’m wide awake! Aren’t you the one who told me to think for myself?” Streaks of crimson started to flow out of their wicked eyes. “So why are you mad at me?”

“Because you’re not doing that!”

Although it seemed impossible, both of them erupted with even more resonating waves. The clash between those fortorn siblings brought the best, the worst, and the absolute most out of each other. That’s how it has always been. And perhaps, how it will always be.

Their monumental waves entangled in the middle of the car, breaking upon each impact. The sheer force of will that was on display looked like a madman’s war—one without end or purpose…or maybe one whose purpose was long forgotten. It was a bloody, terrible war that continued just for the sake of fighting. It didn’t even care what it harmed by proxy.

The steel interior of the train car trembled in fear, occasionally caving to the might at hand. Walls and ceilings would bend inwards, giving in to the pressure of the waves. They would scream and squeal as their once-rigged structure was slowly taken from them—malformed by the vengeful powers around them.

“Give up, Fang,” John said, taking a few steps toward them. “You’ve never once beaten me and you never will.”

Fang continued to groan and seeth, pushing their mind to its breaking point. Blood poured out of their eyes, ears, nose, and mouth.

“I can—” they started to say before coughing up more blood.

“You can do nothing!” John interjected. They continued to march forward, head held high. “Especially not with a weak mind like that. How can you ever be my equal if your mind isn’t even your own? How can you be strong if your mind can’t stand on its own?”

“I—” And before anything could be uttered out of Fang’s mouth, it happened. Like a rope on its last thread, their mind snapped. It broke. Shattered. The mental fortress around their inner brain crumbled within a fraction of a second while in the presence of John’s monstrous ability.

They slumped to the ground, defeated, dazed, and delusional. The world around them spun and shifted in ways unfathomable. Their head throbbed and their veins pulsed in agony. Blood continued to run out of their body, almost as if it was trying to save itself from the pain.

As they lay on their stomach, flat as a corpse, their muscles twitched in erratic ways. A byproduct of their resonance and Resonator ability. Even though their body moved on its own, they could not willingly move a single part of themselves.

And that’s when the train exited the tunnel.

John ceased their projection and slowly walked over to their sibling, their footsteps echoing off of the now eerily still room. The train continued to move along the rails, but that sound was nothing compared to the sound of John’s victory.

Bending down on one knee, John talked into Fang’s ear. “Please, dear sibling, make a choice that’s your own. Be free.” They then leaned in even closer, now whispering. “I pray that your friends can finally wake you up from your nightmare.”

And with that, John stood up and began to walk past Fang, into the next car. Their footsteps continued to reverberate off of the now-bent interior of the car, slightly distorting the sound. To the average person, it sounded no different, but to Fang, it made all the difference.

Just as John began to crest beyond the next door, a new sound entered Fang’s ears. It started as a low buzz, but soon a static voice started to apparate out of the fuzz.

“...so you have to abandon the train now!” the voice firmly yelled.

John stopped and turned around. “Is that Archard’s voice coming out of your earbud?” they asked.

“I repeat: The bomb is NOT on the train. It has been discovered in the C-Station, which is rapidly approaching. All Libra members, abandon the train now!”

John’s feet shuffled about and they glared down in Fang’s direction. “You devious bastards,” they said, angrily spitting on the ground. “Fine then. Take your victory, no matter how shallow it is.”

With a swift movement, Fang felt their body lifted up and draped over their sibling’s shoulders. They were in no position to protest nor fight against it. Fang watched as John placed their hand on a particularly damaged section of the train wall. It had bullet holes, metal tearing, and multiple indentations. A directional flow of resonance poured out of John’s mind, streamed down their arm, and moved into the wall. The more the wall absorbed, the more it began to vibrate. And soon enough, that vibration turned violent. With one final push, the wall surrendered itself to its fate, breaking outwards into a human-sized hole.

“This is my last act of mercy to you, Fang,” John sighed. “Make the most of it.”

With that, they leaped out of the train, carrying Fang with them.