Unforeseen Alliances (3)

"Mmmmm…." The host hummed.

Slam!

Then slammed the door shut.

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

"You don't have any explosives…" The voice on the other side replied.

"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.

Finally, the door creaked open just 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 light source crouched inside. A stifling musty smell also sneaked past that twitched his nose.

"The Awakened Minho…" Corrin croaked. 

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

His bloodshot eyes darted from Minho to Prince.

Narrowing as they finally settled on Hope.

"Who's the stiff…? You bring me a government rat to put me in a grave?" As they locked eyes again, Hope could've sworn he saw the grumpy man shiver. "I like to know who's invading my space before I let 'em in…"

"Some baggage we picked up. Ok?" Minho retorted as he shoved the instruction papers back into his 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?' Hope paused. 'Well, whatever.'

"I'm the baggage," Hope flatly said. 

Corrin frowned as he looked at Hope up and down. "A beaten up one at that…"

Slam!

The door shut again.

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

'In this god-forsaken city, I guess he's paranoid as a person should be.'

The door opened again, and Corrin waved them inside. "Try not to trip over anything…"

The two Awakened let out a heavy sigh. The tension vaporizing as if they've dodged an invisible bullet.

Minho stepped inside first grumbling under his breath. But before Hope could follow in pursuit, he suddenly felt anchored in place as he tried to step forward. He realized Prince hadn't moved.

'What the-'

Hope gave a side-way glance at him. 

But instead of returning the stare, his eyes gazed at the city. Hope caught him like that a couple of times as they traveled up the tower. The brows furrowed and fingers twitched 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 to not take action.

Hope sighed and looked away.

He had a guess 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. 

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

Prince snapped from his daze and glanced down quizzically 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 though. The contact sparked unnecessary memories of a dead person. Why did Hope have to come across 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."

"...!"

Prince's hands recoiled as Hope swatted them off his arm.

***

At first, it was dark in the first half of the room. Trapped with shadow. Walking into a den where 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 but 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 just started on with fresh scratches and smudge work.

But the type of bombs were the 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 Hope finally identified where the source of the light was: computer screens of all sizes piled on one wall, a display of fragmented streams of data, documents, grainy camera feeds, a 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?" Corrin gestured towards Hope.

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

A sour expression filled Prince's face as well.

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

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

Or any form of them should be dead…

Hope thought that as he watched Prince from his peripheral.

Questions. Questions…that were annoying to think about. 

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

That should be an easy question to ask.

"Hey. What's that?" 

"What's what…?"

Corrin froze as he followed his eyes. 

Slowly he turned his head toward Hope. As though he'd just been asked the most important question of his life.

He looked more than capable of answering.

But Hope felt like he should regret opening that door. 

A strange smile stretched across Corrin's tired face. 

"Oh why…That's a novel! You've noticed? I finally got some more media in my life! The old hag finally remembered another story she read long ago. 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."

'Old hag…?' 

But wait. A novel? An imaginative story?

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

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

Minho groaned. "Oh no…"

'Ah dammit…' Even this annoying Awakened sensed a troubling wave. 

Corrin's bagged eyes were more prominent against the light as he pointed dramatically 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 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 wanted to read it. Not live it!"

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

Hope saw a strange fire in Corrin's eyes. 

'Too much energy–'

!!!

Hope quickly took a step back 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 cheeky–"

"Sigh."

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

He dropped his head before lifting it back up again. Then raised a hand. "I have not read any fiction novels."

Everyone strangely froze. The silence in the room thickened from his answer. Hope thought the silence was odd and looked away.

'Mm... 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. 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 anyth–"

"What happens if they get bit?" Hope asked with a bleak expression.

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

'Ah. 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 his hands 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 said 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 shoulder, his dark eyes whipping back and forth to make sure they were paying attention. It almost seemed like he was pressing an invisible elevator button 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 get patched up. And you? You have to explain yourself. Why you even waited this damn 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…"

"…!?" 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 more 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."

"…"

"…"

"…"