Page 87 of Remnants: Disruption
Them
They turn towards you; face twisted in anger. There’s no real identifying features about their face, nor is it really even a face. Yet, the rage is omnipresent.
“You would save them?” they hiss, voice ethereal and directionless.
“I would ask that we follow our own laws,” you say, not yet willing to rise to their bait.
This is not the first time they’ve raised this topic. Every time something goes wrong, this is their first solution.
A mass extinction.
“You’re a naive idiot,” they say, turning to the other figure standing nearby. “Do you think the same?”
The second of us turns, their features just as indistinguishable.
“I believe you have already done the damage,” though their voice is much softer, their words ring like alarm bells.
“What have you done?” you ask, stepping towards your wayward sibling.
“Made a deal,” they laugh.
Light and pain flash around you. You hear the first of us scream with a deluded joy. The second’s scream is one of suffering. Yours is one of anger and fear.
For this is the beginning of the end.
“Your fault,” a voice hisses into the dark.
“Your fault.”
“Your fault.”
Chapter 37
Promises
Ten P.M., November 3rd, 1030 A.D.
For all of those who remained, none of them were ever knowledgeable about what came next. That is why it is paramount that we be the ones to find this being first.
Notice to Tempest from the God Queen, June 4th, 1030 A.D.
Pain flares behind my eyes when I try to open them against bright red lights. For all the downsides there are to being a mutant, the accelerated healing is excellent.
When it works.
And it has not been working recently, if my sore ribs and skull are anything to go by.
God, it feels like someone lobotomized me.
I finally manage to get one of my eyes open and realize the red light is an Affliction lamp beside me.
After a few more blinks, I get the other one open.
“Welcome back,” a monotone voice says into the darkness.
I startle when I see them in the corner. The figure sits so unbelievably still I’d have believed they were a statue if they hadn’t just spoken. Their white, expressionless mask is tilted towards me as though they were watching me sleep.
Which they probably had been.
