The dead man walking was surrounded by a fiery red, pulsating with every breath he took. His body said these were his final moments, but his eyes had a lifetime's strength in them. His aura glowed around the sword he carried in his only arm, lighting every crack and ring in the wood. "I... won't let... you take them."
"It was never up to you," said Morado, releasing the chains' vice grip off the brothers and back to his hands.
Myelin landed on his feet and swayed as he tried to compose himself. The screeching of metal clashing with wood sent him into disarray; he needed to move. Disoriented, he shook his head and grasped the corner of the column behind him, and as the world became still for him, the grasp of Atal yanked his arm up and away.
"Run," said Atal. His eyes were strained and his voice hoarse. He spoke quietly yet kicked up into a full sprint immediately, turning his back to Myelin but not letting go one bit.
Myelin did as he was told, as he always had done with his brother. He ran, every step pushing off the ground as hard as he could—so much so he worried he would no longer have the strength to push with that leg once more. The noises of the fight behind painfully bled into his ears as they left the grand doors behind them.
"The ship, Atal, to the ship!" screamed his friend, before a curdling gasp for air silenced the noise.
The tunnels felt darker than they had ever before, the turns at each intersection uncertain. They didn't have time to think twice. Atal would slow for a mere moment, shake his head, then turn the first way it went. Myelin could hear the chains dragging across the floor, and the closer they got, the deeper the realization set: they were trapped.
Approaching the next intersection, he could see down what appeared to be the dimly lit fires of the elevator site. The glass-encased elevator column shone through like a crystal in the night. Fear sliced his heart as he saw The Governor's head turn the corner, blocking the shine ahead with one of his own—the chains came hurtling through the air and flew right in front of Myelin's nose. He paused, unable to cross. He looked to Atal who was biting his tongue waiting. The chain retracted back.
"Myelin, wait!" said Atal.
But Myelin couldn't wait another moment. He leapt ahead, praying to make it across. His biggest fear was ending up trapped and cornered alone by the monstrous man hunting them down. And as his feet left the air, he crossed the intersection, a cold familiar feeling clinging to his ankle. The other chain had latched onto him. Myelin was slammed onto the rocky floor below.
He scratched his nails into the crevices that lined beneath him, trying to get some kind of hold, trying to crawl to his brother. The tug of the chain began to slide him back. He couldn't see what was behind him. He didn't want to look. Myelin helplessly paddled against the momentum, to get away from the painfully tight grip numbing his foot. All to no avail as he was dragged into the light.
"Get off!" Atal screamed as he now made his leap of faith into the open for his brother.
Like the time he had come to his rescue before, Myelin saw Atal coming flying in with his sword drawn and his aura blazing. But something was different, in the eye and in sensation. The current was more powerful, rippling the air about as much as The Governor's did. Its strength spoke for itself through the pressure it bore down onto the air. Most importantly of all, it was no longer the misty white the brothers shared. The energy surrounding Atal was a deep green.
Myelin wasted no time as the chain released its hold, drawn to Morado's hands for a fight. Picking himself off the floor, Myelin rushed to his feet and searched within himself for his own soul energy. His heart pounded, distractingly loud as it thumped against the wall of his chest. He searched so hard for his power, yet he felt lost, until he found it—a deep reservoir of soul energy that felt cold and eerie for Myelin to reach out to, an energy that was not his own. Hesitation and caution weren't the right words for staying away from this power, but it is what he told himself to cover up the fear that shook his body.
The clashes between Morado and Atal sent screeches in the air that left Myelin's ears ringing. They slid past one another's weapons like snakes, looking to strike through their opponent's heart. Atal was like a needle threading through the strings that came for his head; Morado like waves coming to crash down on a ship in his sea. They moved so flawlessly to counter the other's attacks at just the right moment, growling as they swung to take the other's head off. Myelin realized the malice outside matched the malice he felt residing within himself.
"You won't take him away!" growled Atal. Like a fang coming to bite, he drove his sword with both hands overhead down to the governor—he was ready to finish this.
Unbeknownst to Atal, Morado wouldn't even raise his hands to block. He had already wrapped a chain over his opponent's legs. Turning around, Morado held the chain over his shoulder as he leaned over. He flung his arms forward, launching Atal straight across the small hole they were in—he crashed into a wall across the cave, leaving a cracked crater behind him as he fell to the ground.
Myelin couldn't waste time fearing what lay ahead of him nor what lay inside; his brother was in danger and needed his help. Feeling it crawl out of his body, a blue aura seeped through the pores surrounding him in an oceanic mist. It was a soul energy that poured out with pressure he never could have imagined, like it was exploding at the seams and the only thing holding it back was the very skin on his body. Any injury or tiredness of Myelin's could have been brushed aside in the moment, feeling such a surge of power. He toyed with the idea that maybe there was nothing in the world that could stop something so grand. But the battle at hand was just as powerful, and so he rushed to The Governor with flailing arms and the idea that he would hit him but with no clue how.
It was to his own surprise that Myelin moved himself with such speed—speed that nearly shook him off the soles of his own feet. He leaned forward to keep balance, inadvertently watching as Morado's chains swung over his head. A bullet dodged, but it almost appeared to be moving slower than it had before. It was not. Myelin understood something from that blue heart of the alien's corpse that changed him, altered his perception, and gave him strength. He swung his arm up into the Governor, the very same way he did against that alien beast the first day he had gotten his powers. The punch connected with his gut; he felt the solid impact thump all the way in his bones. But Morado merely wobbled backwards. That's it? Even now, that's all I can do?
Myelin was pulled back by his shoulders. Atal was up and he launched himself back into the fray.
"Let's get out!" said Atal. He brought the base of his foot and teep kicked the Governor into the wall. To Myelin's surprise, Morado was far from just wobbling from that. He was dazed, laying against the cracked wall behind him all the same as Atal moments ago.
The brothers didn't hesitate—poor boys living as opportunists their whole lives aren't born to miss moments by second guessing. They slid back into the elevator's metal cage inside the glass. Myelin slapped the elevator buttons like they owed him money. As the casing shut, and the cave floors became ever distant to the speed they rose, he could see Morado get up with his gaze meeting theirs. A roar of a scream beckoned and echoed across the walls. He raged as he flung his chains all around, shattering some of the glass encasing at the bottom of the elevator column. But it was much too late for that; as he faded into obscurity, the boys were home free.
"Where're we gonna hide," said Myelin. "They could find us on any crevice in this city. He's probably got soldiers everywhere!"
"We're going to the top floor," said Atal. "His ship's still there..."
"The space port?" said Myelin. "Shoot, man, shoot. We're really in a fix. You think we can both get through to Mars?"
"No, Myelin," said Atal, the look on his face pale, grim, yet giving no leeway for emotion. "You're leaving."
"Like hell I'm leaving without you!" Myelin felt his heart sting and burn, singed with betrayal. "I'm sure they'll get it on Mars if you wanna switch bastion affiliations or something. Look, we don't have a choice!"
"Myelin, when I signed on to be a lunar bastion, I signed on to protect you," said Atal, who looked out the glass panes to the fleeting sights of the many floors the brothers passed up. "And I signed to protect them. If this Governor is so dangerous, whatever it is he's doing, I've gotta stop him."
"Stop talking stupid," growled Myelin. "I'm not arguing this. We're going. We're going to Mars and I'm not losing you."
Atal remained silent in response. He didn't even look his brother in the eye. The brothers waited silently, as life went on all around them in the bustling city of Neo York. Myelin could catch glimpses of families and smiles, tears and fights all alike as the elevator flew past. The silence never broke, but after enough of it, he couldn't help his stress and burning heart be washed clean by yet another first sight—the top of the city.
There were no more floors above them. Instead, the elevator's glass pathway passed through a roof of metal that covered the layers of the city beneath. As they passed this layer, a much smaller world came to be revealed—a space port. Ships docked outside the large hangar as they were half in and half out into the open space of the moon. The bay door was simply a milky bubble that formed around the butt of the ships, which must have kept the harshness of space away. Specs of green and white littered the black canvas of space outside.
The hangar was largely empty space; there were likely to be thousands of hangars just like this one. The only things sitting between them and the ship were litters of traveling businessmen, crates being hauled around, and a customs gate packed with soldiers.
The elevator dinged, opening its doors and letting in cool air, washing Myelin back over with a new wave of stress. The boys shuffled out and quickly ducked behind an unattended pile of boxes, likely to be shipped out not anytime soon. Atal peered over the top.
"That one right there," Atal pointed to a modestly sized freighter about the size of a school bus. It was gray, and sleek for its larger size. It was meant to accommodate a few people. "That's your ship, get a good look so you remember which one it is."
"Our ship," said Myelin, sliding his back against the crate and covering his head with his hands. "You really think I can just pilot that thing out of here? Stop talking stupid, and let's just go."
"It's got an automatic pilot," said Atal, unphased and unmoved as he now carefully watched the soldiers littered about.
"Can we talk about this for one sec—" said Myelin, before he had his mouth covered by Atal's hand. He watched as his brother quickly retracted back down. The scrambled voices of soldiers rattled his ears. Not too far away, they could have been just on the other side of these boxes. Shoot, have we been spotted?
Myelin turned to his side to look for his brother once more for guidance. Atal pointed at Myelin and then held out his own palm, drawing lines like a football play—needless to say he struggled to follow along with his brother's instructions. He tried to draw back on his own palm what he thought was the plan, to which Atal grimaced and tried to show him again. After about six or so fake drawings, Myelin got the idea: They were going to swing out on opposite sides of the crates, take down the guards near them, then they would make a break past the gates and head straight to the ships. Simple enough.
A countdown with Atal's fingers set the time to action. Myelin stilled his racing heart and got ready to fight once more. When Atal's hands closed into a fist, he went straight to his feet and pulled himself around the crates to the soldier in front of him. Myelin saw the flash of green as Atal's aura let loose onto the soldier on his end. Myelin, on the other hand, was now standing face to face with a soldier, with no soul energy surrounding him of any kind.
He searched deeper into his core, wondering where it had receded to. In his heart, he felt a chilling malice of energy leak with every beat. When he reached out to channel this energy, it was almost as if it reached back out. Just when he was within grasp of it, he was shocked by reality, sweat beading down his forehead. His eyes were wide open, staring right at the weapon aimed at his head. Myelin felt scared, horrified even, not of the man in front of him, but of whatever now laid inside his heart.
To his surprise, misty energy surrounding an orange blur jumped from around his feet. It was the cat, Gatito, now coated in aura and hissing as it flew to the armored man in front of him. It swatted its paws at his helmet, knocking the man straight to sleep as he fell to the floor. Gatito quickly retracted its aura as he came down to the ground, looking to Myelin and tilting his head. What, you think you're confused? I'm confused. How did you even get here?
Atal grabbed Myelin's arm and ran. Alarms sounded, though they were not physical; everyone in the hangar could hear it on their neurattachments. Everyone could see it too: an alert with both the brothers' faces. Myelin could see civilians point at them and gasp as they ran by.
"What's going on, where's your soul energy?" said Atal, running so fast that Myelin was practically only cycling his feet so as to not fall over.
"I can't, I don't know why, I just can't!" said Myelin. He looked to his brother with worried eyes as they teared up. "I'm scared!"
"I've got you, and I'm getting you out of here," said Atal, but that didn't make Myelin feel any better at all.
At the gate stood a couple of guards blocking the only entrance to the ships beyond. Only a few velvet ropes flanking them and an empty space littered with pilots hanging around, engineers diagnosing ships, and luggage and cargo being loaded on and off. There were grand engineering machines, like cranes with opposable arms carefully moving things up and around.
Atal shoulder-charged right into those poor guards, sending them crashing into the businesses ahead. A few of the engineers shouted in annoyance, before seeing the slumped suits of armor unmoving beneath them. Pandemonium ensued as they now evacuated, clearing the way of all people but leaving tools, crates, and the likes littered about.
As the brothers readied to continue their charge, a voice yelled from within the cluttered maze in front.
"This is as far as you shall go!" growled the voice.
An engineering machine sparked as it toppled over. One trolley of luggage raced to the left at sonic speed. Another shipment of crates became wrapped in a grip of chains before being flung the other way. Standing in front of them was Morado, scowling with fury that had his mustache tremble.
"Powerless dregs, you know nothing," said The Governor, stomping forward, dragging the metal links behind his sides. "I've come here to teach you, and this is how I'm rewarded."
"Myelin," said Atal, holding onto the shoulder of his brother.
"No."
"I need you to run to the ship," said Atal, his voice cracking. "Don't look back, don't ever look back."
"I already told you, no," said Myelin, his voice unsteady all the same. Now he truly did fear what was in front of his very eyes. "I-I'll fight. I can help."
"Myelin," said Atal once more. He held both of his shoulders and looked him dead in the eyes. "I'm not leaving you. I promise you, I will see you again. Just go. And promise me this will be the last time you ever run."
Myelin wanted to contest more. He wanted to disagree, for more than he could fear what lay ahead of them, he feared facing it alone. But his heart pounded and his stomach churned; he knew deep down he had no means of helping, no means to even disobey his brother. Myelin decided to listen. He set his mind.
"I promise." Myelin wanted to say more, but his throat choked shut. He trembled so much he could barely look at his brother straight.
"Thank you," said Atal, smiling lightly as he could manage. He pat Myelin on the head—a warm hand that sent some reassurance to him. "Godspeed, Myelin."
And so the two brothers turned back to the situation at hand in front of them. Ready to face death one more time, Myelin watched as his brother walked to meet the Governor halfway.
"Come on!" shouted Atal, drawing his sword.
Myelin took one last look as the fight unraveled in front of him. Morado was too distracted whipping his chains, trying to beat the swordsmanship of his brother. Sparks flew each time metal and wood screeched against one another, covering the footsteps of Myelin as he ran off.
He made his way through the maze ahead of him, leaping over wires, pushing boxes around. Myelin heard the fierce yells of the two bastions and their fight echoed behind him; he held his tongue and kept moving. The knocked-over engineering machine blocked the way ahead. A metal pole came whizzing overhead. Myelin quickly ducked and looked back, only to make eye contact with the enraged eyes of Morado. The governor, in the midst of his fight, had his head craned back.
"No!" roared Morado. He kicked Atal ahead and wrapped his chains around a spare engine about as large as a car.
Myelin could hear him grunt as The Governor pulled the metal as hard as he could—sending the engine right his way. Myelin kept moving, full sprint as fast as he could. The engine creaked and groaned as it moved in ways it never should. Just as it cast a shadow over his head, Myelin slid to his knees, right underneath the engineering machine. Please hold up, please hold up.
The engine crashed right on top of him, into the cage post of the engineering machine's base. Shaking its core to Myelin's chest before flexing back up as the engine bounced off to the side. To his left, Myelin could see Morado approaching. He scrambled to pull himself up and out of the machine.
Behind The Governor, Atal stood once more demanding his attention. There was no sword in his hand anymore. He was charging at him with his bare fists. It burned a hole in Myelin's heart to see, but he knew this was his only chance if ever; he couldn't waste a second to not move.
As Myelin cleared the scattered and messy hangar, he entered the area ahead—a calm emptiness, where even the violence behind was muffled and quiet. Only the tail ends of the ships remained, surrounded by the milk-bubbled hangar door. He could see beyond the doors, the stars all around. The earth must have been on the other side, for it was a blank slate littered by specs of light. Larger than the white specs that were the stars were the green ones moving about, Greenjellies. For all the ones he cooked, he had never seen one alive before. Myelin continued his run, up the ramp of the Martian Bastion's ship. As he entered into its cool interior, a notification on his neurattachment popped up.
"Would you like to start your journey, Myelin?" said a robotic voice, what must have been the autopilot.
Myelin turned around, looking down upon the mess that they had left. He hoped just for one second that maybe Atal had changed his mind. That maybe his brother would come running up the ramp. Instead, he saw Atal flat on his back, as Morado towered above him.
Myelin looked at his brother in dismay; his brother looked back and smiled. It was a strong smile, wide like a grin of true happiness. He came to realize the truth: Atal was not coming. Myelin smiled back, weakly but visible enough for his brother to see. He watched as Atal kicked back up to his feet, continuing the fight before Morado could realize where Myelin had gone.
"Start the journey," said Myelin. The hangar door flipped shut, closing off his view as it lifted him away from the lunar ground he called home.