"Ascended Jet," The officer saluted, reverent, fearful, "Welcome to the 31st division. Is there anything I can do for you?"
Jet walked past him, ignoring the horrible squeak that came from his mouth at that—she didn't have enough time for this charade.
"Guide me to the room." She muttered, her tone a tad bit harsher than usual.
"Uh…" The man let out, his posture faltering, "Yes, Ascend Jet! I'll bring someone right away—"
She stopped in her steps.
"Do I have to repeat myself?" Turning around, her eyes flickered past the nametag of the officer. Grey. "Bring someone?" Her eyes narrowed, "Did you not hear what I said? Guide me."
"Sorry, Ascended Jet! I'll bring you there right away!"
—
As soon as he could, 'Grey' left her alone in the massive hulk of the room, hurrying with frantic steps to get away from her. 'Soul Reaper', he whispered into the depths of the corridors, recounting his chilling encounter with her.
Not that she was already used to it.
Gently, she gripped the hem of the plastic chair close to the bed, pulling it forward with an elegance long practiced. She let her jacket flow behind her, drooping onto the chair with the utmost grace she could muster in the moment, sitting atop it with the perfect posture expected of a Master.
The hum of the air conditioner rang around the room, lights flickering occasionally above—the room was quiet, too quiet; just the way she liked it.
Watching the glow of the lights, Jet couldn't help but sigh, resisting with great effort the urge to close her eyes. The lull of sleep continued to gnaw at her, whispering into her ears to sleep, to take the rest she needed… but work came first. It always does.
…At least it wasn't another gate, just an errand she had to run.
The world rang around her, the sounds of filtration were almost too loud, the light too blinding, the steps from countless officers a symphony to her ears. In the distance, in the countless alleys outside the suburb that was the police station, children ran, their steps light, controlled, twisting around the corners of the outskirts with a frantic rhythm—like rats, she couldn't help but think, like rats.
"Ascension really had all kinds of unique perks," Jet muttered into the space of the room, gaze flickering all around here, taking in the places all the necessary materials were. It was the same, always the same.
And if she just blinked it would be the same room as the one she had been years ago, hesitantly awakening to the hum around the air, and the soft, peaceful flow of the world called NQSC; if she just blinked, she'll hear the sound of the metallic door creaking open, a brave, or perhaps cowardly officer entering the room, afraid if the Aspirant before him would end up corrupted.
Well, she wouldn't blame him. Never did the ones from the outskirts live.
Shifting her chair forward, Jet crossed her legs, her head propped up against it. Finally, after minutes of ignoring the elephant in the room, Jet let her gaze fall atop him—the boy who was barely breathing in the room.
His hair was black, almost too black, and if she focused just a bit more, Jet would see the soot atop it, the dirt that clung to him like a second skin. His clothes were ragged, stitched over and over again. But what caught her attention the most was the way the straps couldn't entirely hold him, a haunting gap was left between his wrists and the bondage.
He was thin, incredibly so—they all were.
She let her gaze roam, searching the area around him. A flurry of words caught her eyes—atop his report near the head of the bed was a name. A singular word, no family name, no clan name, no place of belonging—Sunless, it read.
How poetic, Sunless.
"May your nightmare be over," Jet let out a foreign something twisting within her heart. Not that she had one, it was gone all those years ago, the soothing, sometimes erratic beat of the thing called life ceasing to exist now; but she felt it all the same.
Now that it was all over, she could only wait. Rubbing her eyes, Jet allowed herself the momentarily reprieve of rest, eyes closing in almost immediately, but also not quite; when a shift of rhythm in the entire area happens, she'll be awake, like always.
—
Beep—
Her eyes flashed open, settling onto the screen of his vitals. It was erratic, a red warning sign reading: Awake soon. Before her, the straps holding the boy shifted.
His nightmare was over, and only time would tell if he survived.
The world around her rang, again and again, red, blue, yellow flashing into her view; yet she could never let down her guard, never relax and let the symphony of noises fade. She didn't have time for that, for a misstep because of ignorance.
Digging into her soul, she raised her hand, prepared to summon her scythe in moments notice. Not that she needed it anyways, but it was a better way to send him off— poetic and all that.
A tense moment passed, and— any second now.
Tick. Tock.
The boy panted.
Tick. Tock.
He exhaled.
Tick. Tock.
She summoned her scythe, preparing for when his soul would taint and black coursed through his veins.
Tick. Tock.
She raised it, about to strike— His eyes flashed open.
He was fine?
In an instance, the flurry of sparks appeared again, her scythe gone. Never had she expected to meet another survivor of the Spell from here, from the hellhole called the outskirts.
The boy—his name Sunless, she reminded herself—gasped for air, panting and sitting forward. He raised his hand, putting it atop his heart, as if… he had barely survived.
The ringing in her head stopped, the rhythm of whatever was happening messed up.
Huh, rhythm? She couldn't help but think, I really need some sleep.
Well… she better get this over with.
"I suppose congratulations are in order. Welcome back to the waking world, Sleeper Sunless," Jet said, the slightest hint of a smile atop her face.
Tick. Tock.
Sunless didn't answer, his head drooped down, still panting, still huffing.
She frowned.
Did he not hear her?
"Welcome back to the waking world, Sleeper," She once again said, this time louder, surer.
Tick. Tock.
He was still…
"Huh?" He finally responded, head lifted up, eyes staring into— "Sleeper?" And oh— his eyes were black, raven black. How could she have missed it? The entirety of them were tainted with it, the cornea, the pupil, the iris…. All of it.
A shiver travelled down her spine, sure, Aspects were strange, but never so… creepy.
"Yes, Sleeper Sunless. You survived."
He blinked, "I did? I did!" A twisted sense of joy shimmered within those black abysses of his, and though Jet was burning with curiosity on why they happened, she wouldn't dare take away this period of ecstatic victory after a first nightmare.
Seconds later, a wry smile drew itself on his face, "But… who are you?"
"I am Ascended Jet. You can call me Master Jet. These past three days, I was on watch duty due to your nightmare."
Sunless took it in with a gulp, "Master Jet? I have a question."
"Go on."
"Why would a Master be put on watch duty? Isn't it… below your pay grade?
Jet stayed silent for a while, shocked. It wasn't everyday that someone would ask her such a question. He was… smart, it seemed.
"You're smarter than you seem. Recently, there were a lot of Gates opening in this sector." It was a trend nowadays, the numbers were… increasing. And she shouldn't be saying this but… "Most of the local Awakened are either wounded or occupied with the clean-up. Or dead. It's always like that close to the winter solstice."
Well, if she started now, Jet might as well humour a fellow outskirts rat.
"Plus, there's not a lot of Awakened who, like me, directly work for the government. It's by far the least lucrative or glorious carrier one of us can choose. Would you abandon wealth and fame to work abysmal hours and risk your life, fuelled only by altruism and sense of duty?"
He nodded, taking everything in, "No," Sunless said at last, "I wouldn't, and… why would they let someone like me join?"
Suddenly, Jet was very, very much awake.
"No one would care where you came from, Sunless. I can even put in a good word for you later on." She raised an eyebrow, wasn't he bright? Jet knew he must have thought about it.
He hesitated, "Oh… ok."
Something was wrong here, that pause, the hesitation— he knew what she was hinting, so why ask?
"That pause, Sleeper Sunless, tells me that something isn't quite right." She narrowed her eyes, the illusion of her heart picking up its beat—this was similar, too similar, "You're smart, you wouldn't have asked about that. Tell me, what's wrong?"
"Tell me, what is wrong? I can try to help."
"...Nothing," he muttered.
Jet stood up from her chair, grasping the key next to her. "Don't lie," She crouched down, hands ghosting by his skin, flashes of memories appearing in her mind.
The restraint fell apart with a clink—he flinched.
One done, three left.
"You paused there, didn't you?"
Clink! Another one was free.
"...Sleeper Jet? Why the face? You can tell me anything!"
"Don't worry, the government won't ever leak your secrets."
Something stirred within her, dark and sinister. Didn't she swear to never do this?
Clink!
Her hand moved to the last one, the key foreign in her hand. Jet saw her reflection atop of it, twisted, turned, foreign. She was beautiful there, almost… ethereal.
She couldn't recognize herself.
Clink!
The last one fell, the boy was free.
"Blind," He said, voice almost unhearable, "The Spell made me blind."
"The runes, they say I'm dead!"
"Don't worry, the government will do everything it can to support the Awakened. Come with me, and we can discuss more on that."
Everything made so much sense now—why the whites from his eyes were gone.
"Awakened! What is the rule for a code black!"
"No. 141, Section B, any Awakened personnel nearby must answer the call. Keep a record of everything and report to your superiors!"
"Why is that?"
"We mustn't violate the privacy of a NQSC citizen, sir! We can only relay what they tell us!"
No eyes were on them.
"Sunless," She said, leaning forward, "Be glad that it was me who answered the call, I should be reporting this." They could use his state as a bargaining chip, "Consider this a gift from an outskirts rat to another."
He flinched, shoulders drooping, hands shivering. His mouth parted in surprise. "You're from the outskirts?"
She ignored it.
"They won't be as kind as me. Don't tell them anything, your nightmare, your Aspect… Just don't."
You'll regret it, was what she wanted to say.