*this is the last chapter for a while, since tomorrow I'm starting my journey towards going abroad for uni. Join my discord servers if you want updates or to just chat with me randomly: https://discord.com/invite/8RcQy2aQ36 -copy paste it into google, and see you all there*
Steadily, they all progressed to the orphanage building, the four of them looking for the crates with the needed supplies. They were right before their very eyes, and yet Bronya did have some concerns.
"These crates have been sitting here for many years, right? Even if they have materials in them, are you sure they are still usable?"
Seele brushed it off, her usual expression coming back.
"Do you think undergrounders care about expiration dates? Even having any supplies is a miracle in itself."
She checked them one by one, only to find that all of them were empty, devoid of what they so sought. Meanwhile, Mark and Stelle, who stood a bit to the side, caught wind of something weird, a sound that was misplaced in that area.
"We've got a big one on our hands!" shouted Mark as a large Fragmentum monster floated before his eyes. It was huge, around Svarog's size, with a deep, chilling blue color that reminded Mark of the everlasting winter in Belobog.
He readied his pipe, taking a hearty swing at it, but the blow did almost no damage. It did rattle the creature a bit, but that was about all. Meanwhile, Stelle was already moving to the side, her steps quick as her bat swung, causing the creature's leg to shatter. Mark's eyes widened at the flawless display of sheer force that could tear that thing down.
The monster swung its hand at Stelle, forcing her on the defense. It formed some ice spikes in the air seemingly out of nothing, but trying to use it was futile.
Bang.
Bronya shot it square in the face, cracking its head with ease. Right as it tried to get its attention back, Seele came in with a swing of her scythe, taking off the head with one swift motion.
"Damn... you guys are all something else..." muttered Mark, feeling the pain in his palms. The shock from his blow traveled through the pipe and right into his flesh. He sighed, pushing back whatever thoughts came upon him. What would he have done, had he been alone?
Seele chuckled as she panted a bit, her quick reaction taking her breath out for a walk.
"Heh, it was fun to fight alongside all of you."
Stelle and Bronya nodded, smiling softly. Meanwhile, Mark walked over to the remains of the creature, striking at specific points with his pipe, the blows lacking any serious bite.
"What are you doing, Mark?"
He turned over to Bronya, then back at the crystalized body, hitting random spots.
"I'm looking for a weak point. There has to be something that's easier to crack than the rest. Stelle packs quite the punch, you have a gun, something that I refused to take, and Seele is just crazy with her scythe. I have to figure out other ways to take things down."
The others walked closer, looking over at his progress. The largest crack was in the central point of the torso.
"That's the weak spot. Ok, noted, I'll know where to strike next time."
His words carried a tinge of resolve, and yet he found himself unable to fully embrace it. What if he'd miss? He lacked even the skill level needed to hit a moving target in a specific place. Still, he had at least some idea of how to go about it—unless swinging on and on relentlessly could work as well.
"Anyway, let's focus on finding the supplies now. If I remember correctly, something has to be in that corner over there. The kids used to get bruises and scrapes all the time, so Natasha kept some supplies over there."
Meanwhile, Bronya was holding her palm on her chin, deep in thought, speaking slowly.
"It wasn't my imagination."
Seele gave her an odd look, and Mark just smiled slightly. Yeah, the moment was right before his very eyes.
"What are you talking about?" asked Seele, confused at the sudden revelation.
"This building, this playground equipment... I've seen it all before."
Seele didn't buy it, and even Stelle was confused.
"What do you mean by that, Bronya?"
She looked around, taking in the entire sight. Her mind was blurry, the memories of a long time slowly creeping out.
"I need to look around a bit more before I can be sure."
Mark crossed his arms, trying to hide the tiny smile on his face, yet he wasn't doing the best job. The group looked around the entire place, searching around, just checking out the swings, listening to Seele's stories about her childhood. In the end, all across the playground, a few crates waited to be opened. Inside, they found the supplies and something else that sent Bronya's memory into overdrive.
"A snow globe with a rabbit and an owl chasing it. How fun."
Bronya's eyes widened as she fiddled with it, cradling it gently in her palms, afraid that even a touch too rough would ruin it.
"It's something from back when I was a child."
Both Stelle and Seele were taken aback, especially the latter, since her whole childhood, she had lived there.
"When you were a child!? Are you sure?"
"You came to this town as a child, right?" asked Stelle, trying to piece things together. Mark simply chose to remain silent.
"No. I remember now. I used to live here. Before the Architects took me away, before Madam Cocolia adopted me... I used to live here! I'm... an undergrounder."
Seele was still struggling to process that, trying to make sense of it all.
"You're... an undergrounder? Wait a minute... you're saying that Cocolia, the Supreme Guardian, adopted you? Then-"
Bronya nodded, letting the information sink in.
"Yes. I'm the successor chosen by the Architects. In the future, I will become the guardian who leads Belobog."
Her voice was shaky, her hand slowly rising to her head, holding it as if to ground herself.
"My memories are so blurry... why didn't I remember until now?"
"Maybe Cocolia did something to make you forget," replied Stelle, who had finally noticed that Mark was unshaken by the information, keeping on the same bored expression with a tinge of tiredness in his eyes.
Slowly, the entire conversation took a more depressing turn, with Bronya nearly crying about her inability to do something, about how she couldn't protect anything, about how she just watched from the side, unable to argue with Cocolia about her choices. It was Seele who made her snap out of it with pure bluntness, anchoring her in reality. In the end, she made it clear that Bronya would have to start acting, which is better than just crying about what she couldn't do up until that point.
Mark met Stelle's gaze, and he just motioned to the side with his eyes, a sign that they should leave those two alone to talk it out. Before his leg could touch the ground and move away, Bronya called out, both her and Seele looking at him with confused gazes.
"Mark, there's something I have to ask."
He turned around, nodding, waiting silently for the question to come in.
"Back when you said that me and Seele are alike in more ways than we'd like to know..."
She couldn't finish the statement, and Mark couldn't find it within himself to try and lie. The rest of her words came without a sound, questioning his knowledge of the past. He simply shrugged and spoke in an emotionless tone, trying to keep a lot of things to himself.
"What does it even matter? I know things, that's for sure, but don't let it bother you. I'm on your side."
With that, he walked ahead, leaving Seele and Bronya behind. Stelle came with him, walking at his side, contemplating something as well. The two made their descent on the stairs, the pack with supplies heavy on Mark's shoulders.
"Must be my fatigue. I can handle labor, but too much is too much."
"Let's find some painkillers, shall we?" asked Stelle, her gaze soft, warming up Mark's being.
"Sure. Let's see what we can find."
Just as they reached the bottom, a robotic voice and that of a child came in together. Before their eyes, the same little girl who had been with Svarog met them.
"Warning! Warning! Intruders! Initiating active defense mode!"
Clara quickly tried to calm down the robot.
"Perkins, stop! I've seen them before. They're not bad people."
Mark chuckled, smiling softly.
"Hey, nice to see you here, Clara. What brings you around these places?"
She smiled back, looking up at them both.
"I've come here looking for painkillers. There are a lot of people hurt at the vagrant camp. I guess things are no different for the miners. If everyone could just get along, things would be easier."
Both Mark and Stelle nodded, switching focus on their discussion.
"Well, I did tell Svarog that I want what's best for the Underworld. Maybe I should straight up push for peace between the two sides. Who knows? It could work, but the people are scared for their survival. It's a huge mess, Clara. Don't let it get to you, though."
He ruffled her hair slightly, to which she giggled. Stelle watched the scene unfold, arms crossed.
"Look at you, acting all like an older brother."
Mark nodded, pulling his hand back. His gaze went numb for a moment as his nightmare came back to him, haunting him with memories that he'd probably never live again.
"I am... was... whatever I should call it... an older brother. Anyway, it doesn't matter. Let's look for the painkillers, the four of us."
Stelle felt a pang of guilt for aiming at the wrong spot, and yet she went along with Mark brushing off the topic.
"Four of us?"
He nodded, smiling down at Clara and the robot.
"It's me, you, Clara, and Perkins. Right?"
The robot made some happy beeping noises, somehow feeling happy at being mentioned. Mark still struggled to wrap his mind around what sort of programming took place when making their software.
"This is one helluva world I'm in."
Yep, we're still going. The plot is pretty slow because of how the game moves, and I don't want to jump randomly from one point to another since it would cause everything to be way too chaotic. So, as I said above, this is the last chapter for a while (might be at least one week before I post again) so yeah.... enjoy, everyone. I'll be back once I'm all set up and ready to conquer :)). Peace out and Deus vult
*Update: I'm not dead, but I still have a lot of stuff to do here. I managed to write this chapter, but I need to find a good internet provider in here to make sure I don't cash out on mobile data :))
For now, enjoy this chapter, even if it's a bit short. I'll do my best to come out with better content once I'm fully set up here, since I moved abroad and am currently living all alone*
At Mark's mention of going to look for the painkillers, Clara smiled and rummaged through her bag, which was on Perkins' head. She pulled out a tiny pack and handed half of the contents to them.
"Here you are. I hope the medicine is of help to you."
Stelle nodded and smiled as she took the pack, while Mark raised his brows.
"My, you sure are efficient. Already looked around for them?"
She nodded, gently patting Perkins on the head.
"Yes, we already did. We're in need of resources too, so I came here to look for them."
Mark let Stelle talk with Clara, simply watching from the side as they talked about Svarog and her past. Mark knew those things, so he simply switched focus to the feeling that slowly gnawed at the back of his mind. Something was still odd to him—a certain need to save someone lingering on his mind. For some reason, the moment doesn't come to him as a big one, and yet he's bothered a great deal by it.
Soon enough, Bronya and Seele came down as well, walking the same path as them. Before he knew it, the group was ready to set back to Natasha and hand in the medical resources they had found.
The walk back was smooth, and yet Mark seemed out of it. His mind couldn't figure it out, and thinking too much made blood drip from his nose like a broken tap, just drop after drop after drop. In the end, they had reunited with Oleg and the rest of the Astral Express crew, which did bring a tiny smile on his face.
March smiled as she laid eyes on them, her cheerful expression putting Mark at ease, even if just a bit. It was Oleg's expression, similar to that of Dan Heng, that did keep him on the edge—and he was right to do so. The talk was about Svarog and how dealing with him would help both them and the Underworld.
"If we manage to deal with Svarog, we could solve the entire crisis."
Mark nodded, then spoke up, still deep in thoughts that swarmed around each word he spoke.
"I see how it is. I guess it's time I try to come up with something that could fix this ordeal. After all, I did talk a big game about trying to make this world better, so it's on me to follow through with it."
All eyes fell on him, curious gazes on all sides, trying to see what his mind would come up with. Even the silent Dan Heng couldn't fully hide the tinge of curiosity in his gaze. One could say that, with an individual as peculiar as Mark, who had known some bits of information from the start, the expectations reached astonishing levels.
"Here's the deal. Plain and simple, no beating around the bush. We try to get along with the vagrants. That's the best solution."
Seele gave him a stingy look, one that spoke loudly of how much she was against it. Bronya, however, did get into her thoughtful stance, her fingers lightly brushing against her chin. Oleg nodded, waiting to hear more, while the Express crew exchanged glances in silence.
"Yeah, we try to get along. It's fairly easy in its own right, if done well. Resources, scarce as they are, must be shared. It's the sort of effort that will take a lot of sacrifice from us, but it should throw off Svarog's calculations and what not."
Seele nearly threw a fit, her scythe ready to lunge at him.
"Are you out of your damn mind!? Do you even hear yourself? The situation in the Underworld is bad as it is, and you want to make it worse?"
Mark glanced at her, knowing damn well that her worries were justified. Still, it was a shot worth taking. He crossed his arms and let out a sigh.
"It's bad, yes, but also good in a long-term scenario, should it all play out as intended. We might require a bit of help from Natasha to make it even better though."
Oleg raised a brow, mimicking Mark's stance by crossing his arms as well.
"Natasha's help? Why is that?"
Mark looked over everyone present there, smiling a bit.
"We'll all play doctor. Share resources, and from what I know from Clara, the situation at the vagrants' camp is pretty nasty. They lack resources too, and their people are wounded as well. I myself have a bit of knowledge on some basic first aid, so I think we're good to go with the smaller wounds. Natasha can teach us more, and we could all make an effort to lend a hand en masse."
Steele almost swung her weapon, but Oleg put a hand before her, motioning for her to stay. He stared into Mark's being with one serious glance, yet it didn't shake him.
"Are you sure this plan will work?"
Mark shook his head. There was no use in lying.
"No, I'm not... and yet, if the vagrants have a brain, they should make it work. Union between people is the one thing even world leaders are scared of. Numbers are hard to tackle, no matter who you are."
With that, their plan was made.
"Fine," said Oleg, letting his arms fall at his sides. "We'll try doing as you said. It's good that the vagrants live near Svarog's lair, meaning we can tackle both a walk there and moving along your plan."
Mark nodded, straightening his back a bit. Sometimes it hurt for no reason, so he had to move a bit.
"Yeah, got it. So, to Natasha's clinic, we go to learn some things. We're short on medical supplies, but we need to try and split things so that we could try to help the vagrants."
With that, they all headed to Natasha's clinic. The place was bustling, filled with people who showed all signs of hurt. Natasha herself was tired; that much was visible, yet she held herself with more dignity than many manage to muster in a lifetime.
She quickly glanced to the door, speaking as she cleaned someone's wound—a deep cut that looked pretty nasty.
"Oh, it's you. Sorry, but I'm a bit busy."
March nodded, speaking in her lively voice as she watched from up close.
"That's why we're here. We wish to lend a hand, so teach us how to take care of wounds and things."
She glanced at the group—a good few working hands that would lighten her workload by a lot. Still, she had her doubts, since teaching these sorts of things takes a bit of time, time that she didn't really have.
Mark noticed the conflicted state she was in while working, so he simply chose to suit himself up. He grabbed a pair of tweezers and slowly lowered them in a pot of boiling water.
"We disinfect the tool. We're short on alcohol, so no using that."
He slowly took it out, the tips of his fingers touching the water, but it didn't bother him much. He took it out, grabbed a piece of cloth with the tweezers, fixed it in place to the best of his abilities, and began working next to Natasha on another patient that seemed to have some smaller wounds—but open cuts nonetheless.
"Well, you do seem to hold a bit of knowledge on this."
Mark nodded.
"It's just the basics, nothing more. We don't want to risk an infection, even if it could happen since we're low on many resources. Also..."
He quickly briefed her in on the plan, which seemed to ignite a spark in her eyes. Suddenly, her fatigue vanished, leaving behind a hopeful woman who wished to do her best.
"I see how it is. I'll try to work something out. Meanwhile, if you're all here to learn, I should do my best to teach you."
She began barking orders left and right, telling everyone what to do and how to do it. Mark smiled at the thought of Natasha, the actual leader of Wildfire, using her skills in this manner.
While Dan Heng and Bronya held some knowledge on medical issues, the rest were pretty much clueless. March, Stelle, and Seele struggled to figure things out, bumping into each other and almost causing a mess.
"Focus, all of you. It's not that difficult." said Dan Heng, pretty unphased by this. Mark knew how much he had to handle March and Stelle like some sort of babysitter.
"But it's hard. There's too much to do, and you need to be quick and... and..."
March even ran out of words. The whole day was a hustle to get around, but in the end, the injured had been treated as well as possible on limited resources that had to be cut down on more to have some for the vagrants.
By the end of it all, Mark was sprawled out on the floor. He didn't know how, or why, but he had managed to keep up with Natasha, which surprised him like never before. The feeling that had gnawed away at the back of his mind was still there, dulled by the other thing that turned his nights into attempts at not losing his sanity.
The feeling pushed him forward, into things that he didn't even know. It was something words couldn't describe well, like a force that lived within, moving him forward, ushering him into something grand. Mark could only call it his will for something grand.
"Heh... we did it. Tomorrow, we set off to the vagrants' camp."
He let out a weak chuckle as everyone just tried to lie down wherever, tired out of their wits.