Facade latched his face forward, expressions seething with pure rage.
"..."
No one dared to speak, let alone move an inch. Mike, somehow humiliated by his own actions, passed over a flustered look. It was all because of this Crimson. He complained, not able to make out how shameless Watson was.
"I said get off." Facade repeated, more clearly this time. But still, nobody followed, a strange awkwardness lingering in the air. "Tsk..." Facade sighed, surrendering his command before the awkward setting.
Rather than the seated trio, Facade opened his door, pausing on its sill before landing on the ground. "No commotion." He started, not bothering with their blank expressions. "Take Watson with you and reach for the black house at the end of the alley. Watch out for the surveillance camera. Forces are still finding us. And yes, start moving after a minute." The briefing almost felt like a one-way address when Facade spoke, banging the door right after stating his point.
Location: Military Hospital, 5:30 AM
"Oh, that's nothing! I'll come see you tomorrow." The commander bade his farewell, leaving the deluxe ward at last. "Phew..." Frawl released a quick breath right after his departure, his head finally easing on the backrest.
He hadn't got a split second to relax, not in the flesh, but rather in his mental space, which was filled with one dim moment.
Bakery.
Frawl's eyes creased at the recollection, logic beginning to weigh upon his decisions. "I shouldn't have done that," he mumbled, his bandaged arm resting on his chest.
The guilt of keeping the situation from his vice commander lurked at his core. Why had he not reported the offender, the same one that pressed Forces to add himself to their rubric, no less, giving a stigma?
Answers blanketed in fog when Frawl tried to deliberate, his conscience interjecting the mental flow.
Fifteen minutes had already passed since the chief's visit, but it felt more like a mere second to him. He could still feel his body burning with ointment, each hygienic strap bounding his flexibility.
When Frawl first realized he was on a hospital bed, he never asked for futile things; instead, he inquired about the offender. Even doing so, he avoided taking Facade's name, simply because he couldn't recall his ill-framed label to begin with.
It was only one fleeting moment when he dropped an ear to General's oration, not bothering to hear the statements filled with either the history of Forces or exceptions that they might face from Blac—
His mind snapped shut the instant he tried to remember Facade's shrouded title, breaking the entire sequence into pieces. And before he could answer his current agitation, previous reflections erased like chalk on a blackboard.
"I'm literally not thinking straight, am I?" he uttered in silence, only his heartbeat echoing in the room.
Focus again diverted to another topic, his cognition now busy mulling over the doctor's opinion. One had informed him of the cause for his state, stating that he had a frostbite lining from his chest, just below the right shoulder to a quarter of his back.
Another further illustrated marks being gapped by many inches, showcasing that the attacker used 'CO,' in other words, Carbon Monoxide as an offensive weapon, its effects bringing upon fatigue within a tick.
Frawl's brain instinctively sliced out the chemistry before, grasping only a single term from his report.
Fatigue. The reason why he collapsed in one strike.
I thought he was extraordinary or something to beat me with just one hit. Phew... Thank goodness it wasn't the case.
Dizziness hit his senses as he regarded the cut-out concerns, especially when he should be worrying about the peculiar vial.
Thuk!
A quick knock intervened with stillness, forcing Frawl out of his chaotic mind. "Come in!" he yelled, barely enough to reach the visitor.
There was a brief pause before the door flung open, a mature man crossing his doorway. "Sir Frawl," he halted, bowing slightly from a distance.
"The doctor just filed the report if you're here for one." Frawl lay at ease, his gaze fixed on the man's white robe. "I'm aware, sir," he said, delicate body language reflecting his dialect. "I'm not here for your checkup report, sir. I'm a mere messenger from command."
Frawl fidgeted at the statement, his relief gradually fading into tightness. "What do you mean by 'command'?" Frawl instantly narrowed his droopy eyes, attention sharpened to the man standing at a distance.
"KIKER-BRAEK."
The response left Frawl with a long, assuring sigh. "Man~ I really thought for a second that you were a rebellion."
"But sir..." The visitor stood too erect as a doctor, his form betraying the casual pose. "Isn't that good?" he asked the recovering officer, swiping his head to his own side.
Draped in the rebellion's uniform, he wore a pure white lab coat, a black high neck underneath the whiteness. The pocket mirrored their flag, two black swords, parallel yet unequal in size. One slightly larger than the other, like peaks in uneven data.
"Yeah... But not in front of me." Frawl puffed at the unexpected sight. The agent, on the other hand, blushed, lips tightening from sudden realization. "Oh... Guess I adapted a lot."
"And you must." But Frawl insisted on the emphasis, aware that any loophole would bring ferocity from the Rebellion's Unit. Especially, on the agent Frawl was conversing with. His name was a common blend to people, sometimes Max, sometimes Leo, yet deep within those agents rested a loyalty to Forces.
It wasn't only him, but many other nameless individuals who worked for the Forces.
Treatments, doctors, inspections, every detail from the random incidents in their infirmary—all belonged to the Rebellion.
Even having the word 'rebel' as their organization's name, it stayed one of the most trusted medical centers among the kingdoms. In fact, they were once a military department, those who were categorized as lowest in military sections.
Forces came first, then their individual divisions, after that the Military, and finally, their distinct units. The lower the array, the less the value of a section. And the Rebellion Military Unit had already carved a way to end the partiality, revolt being their first step to abandon the system.
Back in those times, the military's defiance brought upon a shockwave to the public, the King's serene behavior stirring more protest.
It was verily a wise decision from King Forter, as most of the rebellion members were skilled doctors whose fame once highlighted the Kingdom of Laurae.
This single fact illuminated the military's scheme; most of the soldiers' former careers concerned medical practices. The reason behind the identical and most crucial assembling was to survive the lean of revolt, narrowing causality to a quarter if they failed to persist.
Frawl believed that the offhand slaughter of doctors was one of the military's deeds back then. However, just because his opinion wasn't regarded as valid never meant it wasn't.
He was almost right in his hypothesis, as there had been clear evidence to prove his thinking. But the chance to prove the rebellion's guilt was long gone, and the organization brewed up another matter, solely to heap the law with more puzzles.
By the time the truth circled Laurae's streets, the Military Unit celebrated their role as 'New Medical Generation' in their hideouts, shamefully introducing their services after a week of prolonged silence.
Strict measures were taken when they introduced biotechnical campaigns, pressurizing the King by tying the minds of medicines into a single knot. But still, their provision resulted against them, leading to the execution of most participants.
To sum up the demonstration, justice never prevailed. Many turned out to be pointless victims and some, hidden serpents.
"S..r..."
The clash between the royal house and the Rebellion lasted for about a month, not until King Forter passed an absolute order to their side: 'System is ours, people are yours. If you agree, we might cooperate.'
Those three clauses were enough to settle the protest within two days, the same that pressed the military to destroy what others see as a defined cycle.
"Sir!? A-Are you feeling unwell? I'll call a doctor right away." Frawl instantly lashed back to the present, focus finally back on the present. "O-Oh yes, I'm... I'm all right." He cleared his throat before speaking, almost ashamed to worry the man before him.
"You said you wanted to leave a message. What's that about?"
"Oh, that." The man was about to take an upright stance when he immediately ceased, his hands, which were about to lock on his back, reforming into fishing his empty pocket. The change was significant, but Frawl let it slide this once.
"I'm here to report about the three individuals under custody. They had escaped."
"Escaped?" Frawl's face went pale. "What do you mean by escape? I already sent half of my team with them."
"The concern isn't their escape, sir," the visitor emphasized, light yet obvious.
"Then what?" Frawl finally glided from his cozy bed, arms supporting his weight as he moved. The agent held his words before speaking, imagining how Frawl would react to the news.
"The Black Beast made them escap—"
"BLACK BEAST?!" Frawl yelled in astonishment, his finger stretched toward the man's side. The agent was about to compliment his thundering remark when Frawl cupped his mouth, wishing that nobody had ears pressed against his wall.
"I'm really sorry," he whispered, embarrassed by his verbal reflex. But before he could add more to his apology, a sting surged through his body, the ache forcing a gasp out of Frawl's mouth.
"Sir!" the man hopped to his side, forcing Frawl to lay still. "You should rest easy. We're handling the matters here."
It was obvious that those three had some connection with that damned Black Beast.
Though Frawl finally remembered Facade's famous title, he couldn't help but fret over fainting at the spot. He could have captured him if he were more alert. He could have put an end to the corrupted Mansion.
"I'll be taking my leave, sir. Hope you rejoin soon." Concerned about Frawl's recent condition, he swirled toward the exit, hands nearly reaching for the knob when Frawl called him out.
"Elaborate on the weapon used to ambush me before leaving," he asked, confident that he would get some clue from the attack.
"An element, sir." The lab coat flapped when the agent shifted cleanly, his face once again attentive toward Frawl. "Name: Carbon Monoxide. A deadly gas that causes instant fatigue, dizziness, nausea, or even sudden death."
"It's gaseous, colorless, and odorless, perfect for a silent death." The man's delicate accent achieved what others failed to explain, step-by-step, pointing out his communication skills.
"So... the gas formed a frostbite on my back?" Frawl asked, entirely oblivious to the chemical world. "No, sir. But a liquid did. By what your report shows, the Carbon Monoxide was in liquid form. It could be semi-liquid but still..."
"But still?" Frawl peered at the agent's unusual crease, his expression lost in ponder.
"Sir, it's beyond human capability to make CO gas into a liquid." The agent faltered to hide his perplexation, his features pointing at the fragile situation.
The disclosure made Frawl less startled than his insights, the possibility cornering him into blankness.
Does that mean... the Black Beast is a Rebellion member?