Unforeseen Alliances (3)

"Mmmmm…." The host hummed.

Staring long in uncomfortable silence as if two kids carried guilty expressions.

Slam!

Then slammed the door shut.

"Corrin!" Minho snapped, his sharp voice drowning out any nervousness from earlier. "You're cutting it quite close aren't you? Open the door or I'm going to blow this open!"

"You don't have any explosives…" A voice muffled on the other side.

"I'll find some of yours!"

There was no response at first.

But then came a series of faint clicks from the other side of the door, as though someone were unlocking an absurd number of bolts. It was at that moment that Hope caught a faint glow of a security camera nestled above the frame—its mechanical eye whirring as it zoomed in on each of them in turn.

Crrrrr–

The door creaked open again, enough to reveal a shadowed outline of Corrin. The infamous tech Awakened Hope had stubbornly tried to find all day.

His wiry frame was silhouetted by an eerie glow of an unknown source inside. Sneaking past was a stifling smell of burnt plastic and musk sweat. 

"The Awakened Minho…" Corrin croaked. A gravelly voice as if it hadn't been spoken for days.

Hope's eyes adjusted to the shadows and noticed it was a man in his 50s. One with a scratchy beard, smudged glasses, and a low unkempt ponytail. A chronis mess of an appearance that looked like an office worker had never left their cubicle.

His bloodshot eyes darted from Minho to Prince.

Then narrowingly on Hope.

"Who's the stiff…? You bring me a government rat to put me in a grave?" As they locked eyes again, the grumpy man shivered. "I like to know who's invading my space…"

"Some baggage we picked up. Ok?" Minho retorted as he shoved the instruction papers back into his Memory pouch.

Hope blinked a couple of times.

Government rat…Because he was wearing a Special Force uniform? These two Awakened didn't wear one like his since they had Memories, but still.

"Isn't he talking about you guys too?"

"That's different."

'Different how?' 

Because he wasn't at their caliber? Whatever the case may be.

Hope shrugged. "I'm the baggage."

Corrin frowned as he surveyed Hope from head to toe. "A beaten up one at that…"

Slam!

The door shut again.

But then another sound of clicks and a vibrating hum resounded.

'In this monster-infested city, he's as paranoid as a person should be.'

The door opened again, and this time Corrin waved them inside, the gesture alone taking him too much energy.

"Try not to trip over anything…"

The two Awakened let out a heavy sigh.

The tension now vaporized as if they'd dodged an invisible bullet.

Minho stepped inside first muttering under his breath. But as Hope followed in pursuit, his body felt anchored in place as if rejecting his will to move.

'What the–'

Hope peered back at Prince.

But instead of returning the stare, his eyes glazed over the city.

Hope caught him like that several times as they traveled up the tower. Brows furrowed, fingers twitched, and feet shifting as if wanting to leap himself. But for a different reason.

He might've been holding onto Hope to keep him from running away, but it seemed like he was convincing himself not to take action.

Hope looked away.

He had an idea of what was on his mind. His eyes were tethered to one spot specifically.

Strange. For someone who looked concerned, this meeting with Corrin seemed to be a higher priority than his morale. Minho did say they had business with him as well. Whatever it could be…

"The kids should be fine," Hope said. "They're more capable than you think."

Prince snapped from his daze. The night wind breezed against them as he looked quizzically down at Hope.

"Besides, they know more about survival than people give them credit for."

Ah. Prince mouthed.

"..." It was awkward to stare at Prince's face for too long. The contact sparked unnecessary memories of a dead person. Why did Hope have to meet an imposter?

'I suppose those strays were telling the truth afterall…in their own way.'

Hope didn't want to start entertaining their ideology though.

'Tsk.'

"Now let go."

"...!"

Hope swatted Prince's hands off his arm.

***

The first ten paces in the room were dark. Trapped with shadow. Walking into a den where the only light teased ahead.

The group shuffled into a cluttered sanctuary of tech and chaos. Tables were littered with disassembled electronics—wire bundles, circuit boards, half-assembled drones, and ominous sleek bomb casings. A horde of junk at first glance, though must've been a treasure mine in another's eyes.

But one bomb prototype caught Hope's eye.

It seemed to be a new project Corrin had started on with fresh scratches and smudge work.

And the type of bombs he was building were the exact same ones placed inside the fallen tower where Hope fought the Fallen.

And set a number of them off.

"..."

Hope decided to ignore it and move on.

The rest of the room took a moment to absorb where the source of the light was revealed: computer screens of all sizes piled on one wall, a display of fragmented streams of data, documents, grainy camera feeds, an energy pulse reading. And there was the accompaniment of dizzying arrays of cables snaking towards stacks of hard drives.

"...where did you say you picked…this up?"

"Where that family was supposed to be actually," Minho said in a low tone.

A sour expression filled Prince as well. Corrin distractedly fixed a monitor.

"Ahhh…that…did happen…" There was a forced dismissal tone in Corrin's words. Nobody else pushed the topic.

The dead were dead. What could one do about it?

Or any form of them should be dead…

Hope thought as he watched Prince from his peripheral.

Questions. Questions…that were annoying to think about.

Hope then tilted his head as he stared at a couple of the screens, noticing something a bit abnormal from all the others. It was like a report of a monster incident…but livelier and descriptive as if there was a conversation between the lines.

That should be an easy question to answer.

"What's that?"

"What's what…"

Corrin froze as he noticed what Hope was referring to.

Slowly he turned his head toward him, as though he'd just been asked the most important question of his life.

And he looked more than capable of answering.

But Hope felt like he should regret opening that door.

Because a strange, energetic smile stretched across Corrin's face.

"Oh why…That's– That's a novel! You've noticed? I finally got some more media in my life! The old hag…She finally remembered another story she read long ago! Plus! I also got another one added to my collection. Honestly, when you're in an exclusive city that's a ticking time bomb like this one, it's hard to find anything worth pleasuring these days."

Hope watched him rant in a surprising spur of passion.

'A novel?'

Hope rarely saw fiction books anywhere growing up. Let alone read one. Textbooks and documents were a different matter. But it was through other's chatter that he learned of outlandish tales: dragons and knights, man slaying a ferocious Titan, a hero sacrificing his life for the good of humanity. Ridiculous acts.

But Hope was also told these types of books trapped people's minds in an endless cycle of intoxicating dreams. Who would want that in this Spell cursed world?

"Oh no…" Minho groaned.

"..."

Even this annoying Awakened sensed a troubling wave.

Corrin's bagged eyes were more prominent against the monitors as he pointed at the screen.

"This is important! I've finally saturated my core enough to be able to reach this novel internationally! Do you know how hard it is to find anything good to read these days? The author of this one updates twice a week–twice! I'm all caught up! Funny how people say they want to live in an apocalypse under the comments. Do they really? No! If that's true, then they should switch places with me! I only want to read it. Not live it!"

"You're doing this now?" Minho growled.

Hope saw a strange fire in Corrin's eyes.

Step.

'Too much energy–'

!!!

Hope took a step back just as Corrin took one urgent step forward.

"Have you read any new stories lately, stiff? Those two can't even recall a book! Let alone a summary. Are all uniform's intelligence only made for combat?"

"Huh…"

"If I…" His shoulders trembled. "If I'm going to let this uniform rat stay any longer, then he must be worth sharing any passion with me!"

Hope took a larger step back.

"Don't compare me to that guy!" Minho barked back.

That was his concern?

Corrin balled his hands into a fist. "If it wasn't for our negotiations, I would have blown you guys up!"

"You dare–!"

'Sigh…'

Hope couldn't help but internally sigh. Why did he have to deal with more idiots?

He dropped his head before lifting it back up again. Their two dark silhouettes were like ridiculous puppet shadows against the screens.

He then raised a hand. "I have not read any fiction novels myself."

Everyone strangely froze. The silence in the room thickened from his answer, minus the hum from the computers. Hope thought the silence was odd.

'…My [Black Sheep] Attribute must be a scam. Like hell I want to be seen like this.'

Corrin paused. No. For a precise image, it seemed like Hope had broken him the way he twitched like a glitched screen. As if Hope committed a mortal sin. "What! Alright. Who is this guy?! What baggage did you let me in!"

"...!" Prince anxiously stood beside them and waved his hands.

Minho gritted his teeth. "He's a–"

"No. Never mind. He needs redemption…" Corrin muttered as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "What kind of stories do you like? Hmm? If you started anywhere, what would it be? Fantasy? Action? Romance? Horror? It has to be action. No. Mystery–"

"I don't care."

Corrin froze again.

Huh. The reaction reminded Hope of that saying: Strike Two.

Strike Three and he might actually be dead.

"You…don't care?"

Should Hope answer that?

"Fine! How about this! Something interesting…" Corrin pointed dramatically at him. "If the person you loved was bitten on the leg by a zombie, would you cut it off?!"

Minho snapped. "What does THAT have to do with anything–"

"What happens if they get bit?" Hope asked.

"Huh? Well. They get infected of course! Then they get turned into a zombie…"

Hope had many other questions, but he wanted to get this done and over with.

'Well logically then–'

"Yeah. I'd cut it off."

Corrin threw his hands up. "He can stay!"

"Because of that?!"

"..!" Prince quickly inserted himself in between and began waving frantically. First at Corrin, then at Hope, as though trying to physically blow away the chaos.

Corrin squinted at him. "What. What's he doing?"

"Telling us to relax…"

"Trying to mediate."

Hope and Minho sat at the same time.

Hope didn't have to turn to see the strange daggers in Minho's eyes. Hope was going to speak again, but Prince snatched his wrist and dragged him close to him and Corrin.

Prince pointed out the injuries on Hope's chest and shoulders, his dark eyes whipping back and forth to make sure they were paying attention. It almost seemed like he was pressing an invisible elevator as he did so.

There was no need to be fanatic about it though. Hope did need to get patched up, but he wasn't dying.

It wasn't like he was swallowed by a Fallen.

"Ahhh…I suppose it is worse than it looks. Hmm…Hard to tell with blood on black. But he stands so upright that I thought he was faking it…" Corrin muttered, the once excitement visibly disappeared from his tone.

"Tch. Alright go lick your wounds, Hope. And you? You have to explain yourself. And why you waited so bloody long to contact us!"

Corrin waved his hand in annoyance. "Procrastination…is my strong suit…"

"At this time?!"

"Stiff, go in the other room to get patched up. Strip there whatever into a new shirt. If you do anything to my room, I'll know…" His voice crooned.

"...!?" Prince's mouth dropped.

Hope stared unimpressed.

'Whatever then.'

Hope paused.

'Well, if I leave the room and they start talking about something else…'

Then they would forget about him. Or pieces of him. Even if he asked someone to assist him, that was one out of three.

Ah dammit. Any long interaction with someone was becoming increasingly cumbersome. It was ideal to survive alone at most, but there was no doubt that when he needed to compromise, his Flaw was a mocking devil on his shoulder.

Hope resolved his thoughts.

He looked back up.

"It's fine. I'll just strip right here."

"..."

"..."

"..."