Crowe's eyes rushed open.
He gasped— cold air stabbed his lungs as he grips his chest. His spine snapped forward, only to be shackled by restraints
Crowe hurriedly pulled his body back and rested. He looked around him— only to find an empty cell. The air around him was silent, only the low hum of electricity beyond an iron door was heard.
In the quiet solitude, Crowe's gaze returned to his grimoire, it rested on his right hand. He could feel an intangible connection.
It felt familiar—a heartbeat resonated with it, almost as to match its new master. It was unsettling yet intimate.
Suddenly
The iron door cracked open with a muted hiss, it's sounds echoed the sterile walls. Crowe's eyes, tired and heavy, deceive him. But his ears felt nostalgic steps approach towards him.
Archie walked— a silhouette of pure joy against the harsh fluorescent light. Crowe's face, now animated, was filled with glee of watching his brother's youthful performance. But it dawned on him, Archie too did it.
Crowe rubbed his eyes.
He saw it.
Another grimoire.
His brother, raising a crooked smile— hands raised but his hand still clutched on the grimoire almost like he won a race.
"Brother... " he laughed. Breathless and weak from the whole ordeal.
"W.. we made it!"
Crowe's heart lifted, but something didn't feel just right. Cold sweat perpetrated his skin as his brother's voice cracked.
He recalled the searing agony of the chisel, the burning ink— Azo carving his skin. Archie was too succumbed to such a fate. This very realization had twisted Crowe's heart. His heart, wrenched, heavy with sorrow and regret.
Without any moment for the brother's to lament— Director Gehrman introduces himself again, aided with a dozen or so researchers. They began rushing in to the cell and questioning the brother's.
"What was your dream about?"
"Where there any mentions of future events?"
"How did your grimoire talk? Was it deep-voiced? Feminine?"
Archie timidly replied.
"U.. Uh, It was a massive white garden. A.. and there was no mentions. But the person was very kind and strong."
Crowe knew— he was tasked with a prophecy to kill the gods, he couldn't give any hints. He was unaware of his world around him but it did not make him less sharp.
"Um, it was just like a garden too, and he too didn't mention. That's all I know"
The researchers scribbled on their notes, pouring down their thoughts in a flurry of motions.
Director Gehrman had listened enough and concluded.
'They should be prepared to start working for the company.'
Gehrman waves his hand and gestures it to the exit. The researches follow his command and leave the room. He adjusts his coat, eyes gleaming with calculated satisfaction — then clears his throat.
"You both have proven... compatible."
His voice calm, hands clasped behind his back.
"The synchronization with your grimoires, your survival and your own willpower. These aren't small feats. Only around one in a hundred survive these ordeals. "
He paused — adjusts his cuffs.
"You didn't just survive, your grimoire responded to you. That makes you highly valuable."
He then gives a charismatic, deliberate nod.
"Your real work begins now."
Gehrman then leaves the place, guiding the boys to follow him. The brothers leave the room walking as they closely follow Gehrman's strides.
The hallway yawned, lights buzzed around them, sterile walls flickered— never in sync. Gehrman calmly walked in a neat pace from hallway to hallway as metal doors flick open at his command.
Finally, they came across one large iron door— and at a swipe of a keycard.
It hissed open.
And so too did their world.
A vast hangar stretched further than their eyes could see, so tall— the ceiling vanished into the mist. Enormous ships hovered in suspension, like sleeping titans, their sheer size was incomprehensible to the naked eye. But what made the brother's eyes flash weren't the size nor the amount of men working around and over the ship. It was the smaller ships — sleeping. These small ships were sleek, black and were hung suspended inside the giant ships.
Gehrman ushers them towards a group of people, dressed the same as the brothers. It was clear that they too are recruits. The director calls in a drone — it hovers and projects a message.
"Welcome to the Fleet docks, your jobs as collectors start today. To brief you on the mission... Each and everyone of you are to be stationed in the huge ship behind us the — Titan and you will be split up into smaller groups of four to board the Runners. Stay attentive, listed in this projection will be your groups."
KZZT
KZZT
The message ends— the drone opens its eyes and mini projectors scattered the air, revealing a grid which consisted the groupings. Crowe nervously scrutinizes the groups, hoping to not be separated with little Archie. But Archie's mind was elsewhere, his eyes gleamed and glued unto each and every Titan and Runner that he could find.
"YES!"
Crowe exclaimed. His hands snapped shut from joy.
"A..Archie, thank god we're in the same team!!"
Archie, regains his focus, blinking rapidly as if to escape a dream.
"What team are we in?"
He flicks his fingers, searching for his names.
"I see it! G-G8!!"
The excitement was soon short-lived. just as the names flickered off the projection grid, the drone's sensors pulsed again. Its central eye flared blue, and a soft hum vibrated through the air. Narrow beams of light sprayed unto the floors of the Fleet dock, projecting small holographic maps— like a constellation of footprints guiding the recruits to their stations.
Everyone's feet marched— the brother's followed the glowing footprints, the route stretching like a ribbon, each footprint pulsing in sequence— urging them forward. Archie's eyes sparked with jovial curiosity as his eyes peeled towards every single footstep. Their chatter soon swallowed by the halls of the Titan.
Archie jogged ahead.
Crowe followed in suit.
He jogged and jogged.
—then he stops.
"Crowe.. I think I found it. A runner they say"
Crowe came up from behind him and stopped— he froze. a
There it was.
G8.