Through raspy breaths, Singed coughed and adjusted the cloth scarf covering his face. His skin was still tender and bandaged from the blast and his limbs trembled under the strain of moving with his burn wounds. Despite this, he picked up a scalpel and resumed dissecting a stray Undercity citizen who had wandered a little too far from home.
"Such a disappointment," Singed sighed after the violent struggles stopped, resting his hand mournfully on the man's shoulder. "It will take time to rebuild what we have lost."
His gaze slowly wandered across the rusted pipes and sludge-filled hideout until it landed on Silco who rested against the wall, arms crossed. In what looked like a large, hollow iron bunker with exposed floors above, his supporters were also gathered. Wounds were being tended and Sevika was sweating profusely while recovering on a roughly made bed of scraps.
"We've lost time," Silco responded, though it came as an angry snarl. "We haven't lost knowledge, nor our desire to be free. What is a little more suffering if it means breaking free of this cycle of slavery and madness?"
"Hm." Singed eyed him before turning back to the body now growing cold under his palm. His fingers brushed it gingerly, mournfully, with a slight sadness in his eyes. "We lost a marvelous specimen too."
Silco's expression tightened further.
"He would've made a marvelous test subject."
"One of a kind," Silco begrudgingly admitted. "I doubt we will find another like him."
"That brat has tales woven about him already," a thug laughed mockingly, glancing at another who smirked. "The boy who ran."
"Ran to his grave," another thug sitting next to him chuckled cruelly. "Boom-bang-dead!"
As if on cue, that same thug's head slammed against a metal beam as Gustove, Silco's large muscle man, delivered a punch to the side of his head. A simple glance from Silco and Gustove acted. The unconscious body crumpled to the floor.
"It appears you have another test subject," Silco wryly commented as the other thugs stiffened. Singed, however, glanced at the unconscious body dismissively before shaking his head. "No need. He will not further my work."
There was a pause before Silco said, "Very well," and gave a nod to Gustove who dragged the unconscious man toward the exit.
Stepping away from the wall, Silco moved toward the center of the metal enclosure and looked up. A dark abyss greeted him with endless walkways spiraling up into it and cold, contaminated water dripped onto him from above. He closed his eyes, letting it pelt his face until one drop struck his corrupted eye.
"This will do."
------
~The Last Drop~
"How are ya holdin' up, lad?" Vander asked, patting Ekko's head.
"Mm..." Ekko murmured, rubbing his arm.
"Benzo was a good man, and a good father," Vander said. "The other lads will help you get through this."
With a cry, Ekko embraced Vander and Vander hugged him back with a bitter expression. The lines on his forehead and the tiredness in his eyes were a little deeper than they had been a week ago, before everything that had happened. He had been working nonstop to bring back peace after the events of that night.
Letting Ekko go, he walked back into the lads' room where Mylo and Claggor silently sat and watched with sympathetic expressions. Vander took a step past their room to the girls' room and opened it only for his expression to darken further.
Vi was sitting next to and holding Powder who was rocking on her bed, her head buried in her arms. Vi looked up at Vander with a broken look, her lip quivering and her eyes filled with tears, having no idea how to help Powder anymore.
"Powder?" Vander said slowly, sitting next to her as well. "Come here."
Without a sound, Powder leaned against him. Vander carefully lifted her onto his lap and wrapped both arms around her.
"It's alright," he whispered, gently stroking her hair.
"You'll get through this."