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[closed] came from the depths of me
[ by all means, he should be dead.
No, he is quite sure that he was dead. The memory is chillingly crisp - Rion's grip around his throat, the pain, their words, that darkness. His pain had been great but fleeting. Then there was nothing.
Nothing, and then this.
The sound of his Mother's tower does not rouse Cain from endless sleep, but it is not long after that the sound of footsteps from the lower levels does. Unexpectedly, he finds his fingers curling against the ground, the neurons in his enhanced brain firing again as if he's a car that's been jumpstarted (in reality, this is not far from the truth.) He pulls himself to his knees - his entire body feels numb and tingling, and where it doesn't, it aches, but the sensation is only a minor annoyance to him, because Galerians are born to suffer through their lives. What is troubling is that he does not understand why. There are many things Cain doesn't understand; he was a defect, an imperfect clone, and Mother rarely let him leave the comforting red confines of the Mushroom Tower, assigning him a different purpose than the rest. His siblings knew far more than he did about this damnable planet they were trying to change. But he doubts even Rita could explain what just happened to him.
He tries to gather his thoughts. Focus. When he listens, he cannot feel the faint buzzing in his ears that indicated the presence nearby of any of his kin. Was Rion dead, then? Somehow, it's a bittersweet concept, but it's one he can't linger on now - he notices secondarily just how quiet it is around him. There's no thrum of energy from the endless number of wires, servers, and every other piece of machinery that powered Dorothy's mind. There's silence. The round room, which had been so like a womb to him before, warm and alive with noise, was suddenly, noticeably different, all at once - a red, bloody echo chamber. Then Dorothy, too, was --
Ah. So that was it. That's why he's here now.
The sardonic smile that curls onto his face as he laughs to himself (or at himself) is dark. A tool to the end, of course - he never expected more. It was his greatest joy, he thinks and pleads. But he doesn't have time to think about it more now. There were humans coming up the tower from below. He can hear them and feel their presence, too - probably officers, police of some kind, coming to inspect the damage. Cain could not allow himself to be caught by them, or he would ruin everything further. It's at once surprsingly easy for him to destroy the wall of the room of his birth - he was not a sentimental sort, it seemed - and open a path to the outside world. The sky was dark and gray even as dawn approached, thanks to the smog the humans released. No matter. He steps off into it as if he were toeing into a pool, and his telekinesis carries his slight and damaged frame through the air. The pain really is incredible. His head feels like it might burst - for some reason, it's funny to him, and he can't bring himself to care.
His work isn't over. He had not failed yet. He had to find Lilia - there's a voice, an instinct, deep in his nerves that urges him to do so. So he enters the city and searches, opening his mind to scan for her. All it would take is a single psychic call from her. ]
No, he is quite sure that he was dead. The memory is chillingly crisp - Rion's grip around his throat, the pain, their words, that darkness. His pain had been great but fleeting. Then there was nothing.
Nothing, and then this.
The sound of his Mother's tower does not rouse Cain from endless sleep, but it is not long after that the sound of footsteps from the lower levels does. Unexpectedly, he finds his fingers curling against the ground, the neurons in his enhanced brain firing again as if he's a car that's been jumpstarted (in reality, this is not far from the truth.) He pulls himself to his knees - his entire body feels numb and tingling, and where it doesn't, it aches, but the sensation is only a minor annoyance to him, because Galerians are born to suffer through their lives. What is troubling is that he does not understand why. There are many things Cain doesn't understand; he was a defect, an imperfect clone, and Mother rarely let him leave the comforting red confines of the Mushroom Tower, assigning him a different purpose than the rest. His siblings knew far more than he did about this damnable planet they were trying to change. But he doubts even Rita could explain what just happened to him.
He tries to gather his thoughts. Focus. When he listens, he cannot feel the faint buzzing in his ears that indicated the presence nearby of any of his kin. Was Rion dead, then? Somehow, it's a bittersweet concept, but it's one he can't linger on now - he notices secondarily just how quiet it is around him. There's no thrum of energy from the endless number of wires, servers, and every other piece of machinery that powered Dorothy's mind. There's silence. The round room, which had been so like a womb to him before, warm and alive with noise, was suddenly, noticeably different, all at once - a red, bloody echo chamber. Then Dorothy, too, was --
Ah. So that was it. That's why he's here now.
The sardonic smile that curls onto his face as he laughs to himself (or at himself) is dark. A tool to the end, of course - he never expected more. It was his greatest joy, he thinks and pleads. But he doesn't have time to think about it more now. There were humans coming up the tower from below. He can hear them and feel their presence, too - probably officers, police of some kind, coming to inspect the damage. Cain could not allow himself to be caught by them, or he would ruin everything further. It's at once surprsingly easy for him to destroy the wall of the room of his birth - he was not a sentimental sort, it seemed - and open a path to the outside world. The sky was dark and gray even as dawn approached, thanks to the smog the humans released. No matter. He steps off into it as if he were toeing into a pool, and his telekinesis carries his slight and damaged frame through the air. The pain really is incredible. His head feels like it might burst - for some reason, it's funny to him, and he can't bring himself to care.
His work isn't over. He had not failed yet. He had to find Lilia - there's a voice, an instinct, deep in his nerves that urges him to do so. So he enters the city and searches, opening his mind to scan for her. All it would take is a single psychic call from her. ]
no subject
I'm sorry, Rion. I'm scared.
Lilia thought herself to be a coward, running from any dangerous situation even if it seemed safe. She ran until her legs could carry her no further into the city, she even found better clothing to hide herself. A simply gray hoodie with a lavender wing on the back and front, a pair of jeans and boots that made different types of terrains easier.
For now, she caught herself walking inside the convenient store and taking a few food items before she could be caught and leaving. Lilia spent the next few hours looking for a good place to hide for the night, but nothing seemed good until she found an abandon clinic that neared the edge of the city. Her weak attempts at telekinesis helped her open the window only, she lifted herself and fell inside with a heavy thud. Lilia let out a yelp, she was aware that she might have sprained her shoulder, but she didn't care.
The red-haired girl stood up, found a nearby couch in the waiting room area and set down. Lilia used telepathy to see if anyone was near her or could find her, before she pulled out her banana, yogurt and apples to distract herself with food.
Where do I even go?
no subject
There's a wince from the effort. His brow is creased, and his voice is ragged.
"Don't scream for help. Unless you want me to kill anyone who comes by, that is."
no subject
She jerked her body briefly until he threatened to start killing people that came by. Lilia wasn't sure what she should do, she couldn't scream for help but if she struggled with him too much he'd have to reaction. Lilia did happen to notice he seemed to be sick to a degree, ragged breath and all. She didn't have Rion to save her now, he was absolutely dead and she needed to try to take care of herself.
Against her better judgement, her fear and mourning of Rion caused her to raise a hand and slap him.
no subject
"Do you really think you can do anything against me? I need you alive, but I don't need you uninjured," he growls, lips curling into a snarl. In truth, he's hardly got any strength yet - but he wants to believe he has enough to hurt her if he has to. "You're going to listen to me, do you understand? If you don't, I'll just break your limbs until you have no choice."
no subject
The deep growl in his voice raised her concern and she suddenly relaxed underneath his strong hand. She made a simple, soft noise of agreement and she opened her hands to expose them to submission. Lilia knew Cain was serious, even if he was weak, ragged and could bluff way better than Lilia could know if his actions would bear fruit.
Closing her eyes, Lilia let tears flow from her hands as she called for Rion within her mind even if he was dead. She expected that any moment that Rion would burst in and save her.
no subject
Now, how to begin. His own understanding of the process is poor at best, but it's coded into his brain, and the words come almost unbidden.
"Dorothy is dead, and you're going to help bring her back. Or... what's in your brain will."
no subject
The red-haired girl shook her head a little as she grabbed the top of his wrist, attempting to get herself free without showing that she would escape. Cain, without Rion, was dangerous and deadly; he wouldn't hesitate to kill her or others to prove his point.
Lilia's wide eyes stared into Cain's and she hummed again, mostly still silenced.