Among the Stars

Chapter Seven

By Roofles

“It’s just a bunch of bright dots in the sky. I don’t see the big picture here. What made you want to leave home and risk it all by going out there? It’s not like it is here…” The Saberwolf said laying on his back. The jagged cliffside was uncomfortable and a harsh, savage wind blew. Fitting for this planet. What little there was left of it.

A dirty reddish-brown dust filled the humid air around them, choking what little life remained, as he stared up at the night sky. The air smelled like ash and death. Little else. The life on the planet Saber had long since died off, leaving only the native Saberwolves left to fight over the leftover scraps of their once vast empire.

A civilization that had, at one point, covered the planet’s surface. Now nothing more than memories.

Their pride refused to allow the majority of their people to leave their home planet. Declaring that they would survive, that they would rebuild and that they had won the right to be here. They had fought, bled, and died to protect it. Where their ancestors lay. Their bones and spirits. Just like their cities, just like their home… Nothing but bones picked clean by scavengers, marauders, and their own kin.

Time.

Time was their greatest enemy. It wasn’t the invading armies or the encroaching darkness that had done them in. It was time. Time that ticked by. Eroding everything with it.

He doubted even their spirits would remain in such a desolate, barren place. This planet was done for. It had been for a long time. War. War changed everything and in a cosmic clash, they had won the battle. Defeated their enemies and pushed them beyond their system… But lost what was left of their home in the process.

 Tearing into the earth, the Saberwolves dug deeper and deeper. Ripping out the rich metals to use in their war machines against their enemies. Crafting a battalion of warships, arming their soldiers from fangs to toe and creating ever larger, ever grander structures to reside in. Spiring towers that jutting from the ground, made of dark metals with jagged edges.

Unlike their ancestors, they didn’t reside within caves or dens but built monoliths to showcase their strength. Their savagery and viciousness had won them the war. Such things came at a cost and only after it was all accomplish, did they see the damages wrought on their home.

The damage done to the planet was irreversible.

Only bones remained. The ruins of their major cities, landmarks long since forgotten. All vegetation dying out due to the thick smog their factories produced and the act of draining the planet dry. Even their people were hollow, malnourished compared to the large, proudful warriors they once had been.

A drought hit that had never passed by. Leaving the ground dry and cracked, several places eroding away to dust. There was no more rains. There were no more fields to tend. Everything had been lost, and still they remained.

Needing to import supplies and food from the outer systems to survive, they bowed their heads and tucked tail in order to remain here. Willing to sacrifice the one thing they had left, their pride, in order to survive. Hiring themselves out to be bounty hunters or mercenaries to earn money to send back home. To buy and purchase supplies they’d need to rebuild their once vast empire.

To be great again…

“So much for that,” he sneered, cracking a crooked smile at the idea of rebuilding this wasteland. “There is nothing here left to rebuild!” Start fresh? Start anew? That this was their home and so they needed to be shackled here? That’s what his parents had told him. His friends. The others in their tribe. “We were never that great to begin with. We just wanted to be…”

“I agree with you on that. Such beliefs can be exceedingly dangerous, especially when you are trying to regain something that never was. To return to an imagine greatness. My people tried to do something similar. Rather than changing with the times, adapting, they blindly rotted in the past. Hoping to somehow turn back time.”

“No one here is willing to truly leave. Sure, they go out into the stars, but they always return here. Working themselves bloody, dropping off their ill-gotten earnings and leave once more. All to hope that future generations will clean up the mess they left behind. It’s like… We’re bound to this dumb rock. This lifeless hunk of rock hurtling through space.” He wouldn’t even call it a planet. There was nothing here…

“Maybe that’s why I look out there. Towards what could be, instead of what was.” The other man shrugged, looking back up there. At those lights in the dark. A force in itself. Such a vast, empty darkness and still there was… life there. Those stars represented more than the nightlife the Saberwolf treated them as.

They represented possibilities. All you have to do would be “willing to risk it all, for that hope. That’s why my people did survive. Unlike yours… Oh, I know they’re alive but their not living. Their just… here. Memories of what was, not what could be.”

Not like out there. Above them. Countless bright lights twinkling above. Each and every light could be a new home for them. A new start. A true start to it all. If only they’d be willing to grasp it.

“I guess,” the Saberwolf scratched idly at his chest fur as he laid there. Still trying to see what this stranger did. To look past the doctrines his people had forced on him since he was a young pup.

To value Saber life above all others. To not conform to machines again. To never stop fighting for their right to be here. Kill all invaders. No matter who they were. Any who dared interfere with Saber again would be obliterated…

“They’re so dramatic,” the young Saberwolf sighed, glancing over at his companion. If he had just done that? Blindly listening and obeying as he was supposed to do? If he had just listened to them, then he’d have never met this man. This stranger from another planet, another system in space.

To learn and discover that outside this broken rock, there was so much more out there… To be seen. To smell. New things to taste. Sights and colors and sounds he could never even begin to fathom or comprehend to exist.

But they did. Out there. Beyond this system. There was so much more.

So many stars. Countless twinkling lights above looking down on him as he looked up at them. Each and everyone filled with… possibilities.

“Where are you going?” The young Saberwolf asked instead. Instead of asking about those places. Those planets. Those sights and sounds and smells… he asked where this man, this stranger, was going instead.

For he was sure, if he followed him… then he could never be led astray again.

“The big picture is the point,” the man laughed, covering his mouth with a closed fist. Trying to contain the sound. They weren’t supposed to be out here. The man wasn’t supposed to even be here, but he had wanted to see – again. Despite the risks it meant. “There are SO many things out there! I don’t even know where to start. Planets, galaxies, space stations, entire battle fleets! Or the remnants of wars and battles fought. Space graveyards, floating hunks of metal left behind after the victory was won… or loss. The inner and outer rings, alone, would take forever. Longer than my lifetime… or three!” He laughed again. A strange sight. A strange sound in itself. To look… happy, here, in this desolate hellscape. “The Trade Barons and The Cartels would be interesting to research and read up on, but I’d never want to run into either. There are just so many different nations and sights and sounds and,” he stopped as he just smiled, getting lost in the thought of it all.

Smiled up at the night sky. His eyes were so bright that humid night. In this wasteland of a planet, that face was the brightest thing – had ever seen. Those eyes were brighter than any stars and were filled with far more aspiration than he would ever feel in his life.

“Hey, -, I want to go there! Out there. To places, see things no one else has. I want to see so much.” The man’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much as he looked at the young Saberwolf watching him nearby. “Not here. Not on this ugly, craggy planet… Uh, no offense.” He chuckled. “Present company excluded, of course. You’re the only good thing here.”

The Saberwolf snorted as he rested back on an arm.

“You won’t hear me defending this rock. Saber is nothing compared to what it used to be. War has changed it. Ruined it. Tainted it’s people… dark inside. Stolen their light. It’s nothing but a… scar on the galaxy now. Countless wars won and loss have left it the lifeless planet it is.” He closed his eyes, wishing he could see the hope that – did.

“I read that it was once a beautiful, bountiful planet… no wonder why your people and your ancestors fought so hard trying to protect it.” The man looked out, over the cliffside, to the jagged peaks in front of them. Jutting mounds of rock and earth spiking from the ground around them with deep canyons and pits running between them from the old mining operations. Reddish brown mountains with no signs of life was all that remained here other than the tower metal spires looking like saber fangs poking from the crust of the planet. “It’s incredible still… I mean, not in a good way, but like… wow. It’s just… amazing.”

“This place?” The Saberwolf cracked an eye open to look at him. He was taken aback but the look on – face. “What…? How could you think this place is anything but the ass crack of the universe?”  

“The sunset is beautiful.” The man said with tears growing in the corner of his eyes. “Every sunset, is a gift.” He wiped off his face, smiling at the Saberwolf. “For it means that another day passed by.”

“What do you mean?” The Saberwolf sat up.

“It means that I was lucky.” The man got up, dusting off his pants from the reddish-brown dust that covered everything.

“I don’t understand…” The young Saberwolf pleaded for an answer.

“It means I was able to spend another day with you.”

“I don’t understand,” the Saberwolf reached out.

“Let’s go, get out of here.” The man turned away. Covering his left eye with a hand, his head sunk. “To see the stars…” The sun was setting, the freezing cold winds began to blow, and everything stilled.

“Wait!” Words were lost as the silence was deafening, a force that weighed on him as he was there, alone, on the craggy cliffside. Reaching out for a shadow, long gone. To be left alone. “No. Just. Wait, I’ll come. I’ll go. To the stars or beyond, just wait for me there!”

For every star in the night sky, “none ever shined as bright as you…”

….

….

Cyclone’s heavy mechanical steps clanked against the metal grating of the hallway. His head bowed, lost in thought. His hand clenched and unclenched several times, trying to work out these overwhelming emotions inside.

What should he say?

What should he do to convince Isaac of the truth?

Would that even change anything? No matter how many times Cyclone had tried, here he was again. Uncertain as to what to do. Nothing more than a shadow of the man he followed, trying to capture something intangible with his hands.

Like trying to grab hold of a ray of light. His fingers slipped through it, coming up empty.

“How long have you’ve been working with Raphael?” It was the first thing Isaac asked as the metallic doors closed behind them, sealing tightly as they did. Isaac could hear the hiss of air being cut off and glanced back as the light vanished from the other room.

The other room was still filled with life and laughter, people getting a little too worked up underneath the strange glow of the crystals light. It was better than here. Another dark tunnel, empty and void of warmth.

It was cold in here. Isaac could see his breath in front of his face as he faced towards that door. His pulse was racing, his heart pounding against his chest as there was a thumping noise in his ears as he stared at the locked exit. Eyes quickly roaming over it, looking for a way out. Desperately finding an escape.

No lock. No mechanism to open it. Controlled somewhere else in the ship. There was no panel to pop open and fiddle with the wires inside. There was no Sphinx to call for help. Typhon was gone. Isaac was alone. It was locked tight, and Isaac was trapped here.

That feeling of claustrophobia set in. The walls closing in around him as he tried to keep his breath even.   

He hated that feeling more than anything else. Being trapped. Stuck somewhere. As if his wings were clipped, legs broken. Unable to run, to fly away from it all. It scared him more than the two he was with. It scared him more than Raph or the Celestials or even that black-scaled reptile from the previous week ever did.

It reminded him of the nothingness that was space. That empty void. Devoid of life, warmth, or light. It stretched between everything, the emptiness between others.

With such fears, with such weakness, the cracks were forming again. Like thin ice breaking when too much weight was pressed on it. Isaac was that thin ice. Threatening to break and be plunged into ice cold, dark waters with no way out. The pressure building inside. It was so cold, yet Isaac was sweating. His palms were clammy, and he tried to steady the beat of his heart.

It didn’t feel like his heart. The beat was off. Everything felt off. The sound only grew, seemingly beating within his ears. Within the walls. Was the ship breathing? It felt cold, lifeless and yet… alive.

“Isaac?” He wasn’t sure who had asked that. Who had spoken his name. It felt familiar, though. A warmth that steadied his nerves and let him collect his tumultuous thoughts.

Unable to look back, Isaac turned forward and would deal with this.

“It’s nothing,” Isaac lied. These were things he’d had dealt with before. It was his own problems, no one else’s. No one else could deal with it, but him.

“Hurry along then.” Cyclone motioned with his muzzle, as if in warning. Isaac wasn’t sure if it was a threat or if this stranger was trying to look out for the Terran.

They’d gone down into a utility hallway. There was a dull thunking sound as they made their way down the metal grating, the sound echoing from underneath their boots as they walked further inside the ship. The Silken Cat went first, keeping an eye on the two as they led the way down the dark corridor. They didn’t make a sound with their long, yet light steps. No matter how long their body was, the feline seemed to weigh nothing as he moved with a fluid grace within the dark hallway. Small lights buzzed like insects on the walls, humming softly as they walked past.

It reminded Isaac of old lantern with insects buzzing around them. In the middle of the night, maybe on a small walkway over the water. Like down near the bayou. A humid breeze was blowing, and the stars were out “that night.” The insects were buzzing, fireflies were glowing over the swampy waters surface. Moss clung to the wood as – walked down it, looking up at those stars. “I remember those stars, you know, up above. No matter where I go, where I am, I can look at those stars and know that I’m still… here? Their like fireflies watching us, looking down on us as we walked underneath their soft light. Hand in hand… under the stars… it was the best day of my-,”

“Isaac.”

He looked up to see the other Saberwolf looking at him. Cyclone hadn’t said his name. It was that person, back then, back there, that had said his name. Looking at him with eyes that resembled the stars. Not the sunken eye of this space pirate.

“W-what?” Isaac asked, needing to hold the wall for support. The floor were still metal grating, not the wood… wood of a deck, in a swamp, in a place that Isaac had never been before.

“You hear me?” Cyclone growled and Isaac shook his head.

“No, sorry. I… What was that again?” Isaac apologized, forgetting where he was. He was doing that a lot lately. He thought… he was getting better. Yet, when things got dark, and all the lights turned off… Isaac could feel himself slipping away.

To places, to times that never was, yet always had been.

“It’s nothing.” Isaac sighed, rubbing his temple with a hand. “Just hate… I just hate cramped spaces like this. Is all.”

Cyclone watched him closely, before snorting and shaking his snout.

“I’m not working with that moth. To answer your question. Or working for him. Get that notion out of that pretty little head of yours.” Cyclone made sure the difference between the two was clear. “My job is hunting people down for a bounty… a bounty hunter,” the cybernetic Saberwolf sneered at the Terran. “I thought that much was obvious. For money. And here I thought you were supposed to be the smart one.”

“And here I thought you worked for those black-scaled lizard people?” Isaac was confused exactly who Cyclone was working with or for. Trying to get as much information he could from the man while he had the chance.

Cyclone snorted again, sneering at the question. A nasty, grimy smile that covered his face and made his eyes pull up slightly. Looking down on the silly Terran lost in space. Oddly, Isaac didn’t mind it when Cyclone did this.

It helped. It helped ground him in the moment. Where he was and what he was doing. Afraid if he didn’t grab onto something, someone, he would slip away in that current and be lost.

Cyclone seemed more than willing to play along with it. Giving him bits and pieces of information as they walked. Teasing him. Poking fun at Isaac’s inability to see what was directly in front of his face. Like an older brother teasing his younger brother. Nothing like what Isaac assumed a space pirate captain would be like.

There was that familiarity once more, between the two. Like a burned bridge that had once been and now gone. Only the smoldering ashes left behind. Isaac could practically smell the ash and death in the air.

The hallway was dark, practically devoid of light and Isaac’s mind began to wander. Glancing behind him, he could see the dock crossing through a swamp. Then it abruptly ended, turning into a craggy rocky red planet that was just as uncomfortably hot and humid. That path disappeared and another, new one formed.

Were these memories? Whose? Isaac wasn’t sure as he tried to ignore it. Ignore as he felt the warm breeze blow against his face and the smell of the ocean fill the air around them. He could hear the waves crashing, the birds squawking in the distance.

Sand ran between his toes as Isaac stopped, standing there as he looked at an ocean he’d never been to.

“Lizard? Oh, you mean Rakastan? He and his ilk are… let’s say, distant cousins to what I do.” Cyclone explained. It only left Isaac more confused as he followed after the Saberwolf and away from the pictures filling the hallway around them. Everyone of them was from a first-person viewpoint. Someone looking out, rather than a picture of them. Of world Isaac only dreamed of seeing. Of foods he’d only dreamt of tasting. Of sights, sound, and smells… “You see, technically speaking, Saberwolves and Raks are part of the Cosmic Guardian Order. Keeping balance, tabs on anomalies, etcetera etcetera. Not Celestials. I know, it’s confusing as fuck.”

“Guardian Order? You say that as if I’m supposed to know what the hell that is.” Isaac sighed, feeling exhausted by all this. He wanted to get drunk with Typhon and relax on the ship. To have a pseudo vacation, not this.

Not whatever was happening, again, to him.

“Celestial Bodies are what the noble races call themselves around the universe, right? Stuck up fucks, all of ‘em.” Cyclone spat to the side. “The Guardian Order are their… let’s call them tools, that they use to keep Order.” Cyclone scratched under his chin, mulling it all over himself. His nails were dark, and his blue fur was shabby and unkempt, looking almost black in the dim lighting of the hallway.

“Don’t they have armies for that?” Isaac frowned. He knew that the Raks were a force to be reckoned with. Even the Terran Amada avoided them when they could. The black-scaled lizards were infamous around the galaxy and their zealous crusade was well known to stay out of the way of. Where they went, only destruction remained in their wake. Isaac had assumed, or thought, they’d be Celestials as well. “Aren’t they?” He winced, holding the side of his head as he tried to piece it all together. “I feel like we’ve had this conversation before.” He chuckled lightly, wincing from the sharp pain he felt.  

Cyclone ignored that last part.

“Celestials and Guardians can both be the same thing. However, not all Celestials are Guardians and not all Guardians are Celestials… getting it, yet?” Cyclone chuckled still with that sneer on his face, looking down on Isaac even now.

“No.” Isaac sighed. “No, I am not getting it. This is one of those ‘all thumbs are fingers but not all fingers are thumbs,’ kind of bullshit, huh? It’s necessary for a Celestial to be a Guardian but not sufficient? I think I got that right.” Isaac gave him a look. He was surprised to see Cyclone facing towards him.

With both hands behind his back, Cyclone walked at his side. Facing towards the Terran. Talking to him. Walking at his side, instead of behind or in front of him. Walking as an equal… he looked so familiar in the dark shadows passing them by.

Isaac wanted to say he knew him, but that might’ve been just another misunderstanding. Walking like this, Isaac looked down. He could practically see his feet. His feet kicking through crystalized sands of all colors. They glistened in the setting sun and there, at his side, was a Saberwolf walking. Laughing and talking with him.

Isaac wished he could hear the words he said as the sandy beach turned to the swampy dock again. The two-walking side by side as they were… exploring? Was that what they were supposed to be doing? Going around the entire world, the entire universe to see and hear and taste and feel… as many things as they could?

If Isaac squinted he could’ve sworn it was Typhon. Maybe that was just wishful thinking.

He blamed that on the lighting. On the fact that Cyclone was another Saberwolf himself of similar size and proportions as Typhon was. He didn’t want to assume they all looked alike… This felt different. Cyclone felt different. Familiar, yet not… It was why his betrayal hurt so much.

As much as Isaac wanted to reach out and touch those memories, those pictures, Isaac knew that… that wasn’t him. Why then, was he seeing these things?

Glancing at the Saberwolf, Isaac wondered if this was what Cyclone was seeing, not him. That these things… were being projected onto Isaac. Another misunderstanding? It only left him with another sharp pain, wincing as it stopped his thoughts in their track.

Warning him not to push past it. Pain was a signal the body told the mind to be careful of something. Not to push past it or risk getting burned.

“Something like that,” Cyclone nodded. “Most Guardians are chosen. Not born but picked.” He reached up as if to pick a succulent forbidden fruit from a tree. “Rakastan took being picked as a Guardian to heart. You’ve noticed he’s rather on the more… diminutive size, for his people, right? Always looked down on. Metaphorically and physical. Real Napoleon complex, that one. Then he was chosen… His entire life’s calling was set for him. No more independent thoughts. Just missions to follow and obey. His life IS for this job. To keep Order in the galaxies. Forever forced to fight. Some say he’s blind to that calling… Blinded by the light,” Cyclone chuckled darkly, crushing his hand and that forbidden imaginary fruit he’d plucked. “Fly too close to the sun and…”

“Against… who?” Isaac asked and Cyclone glanced over at him. “You said to fight. To fight against who… or what?”

Cyclone sneered. “That’s the question, isn’t it? To fight against who? Not against other races or nations or species or, whatever else you might be thinking of out there. No. No, it’s that last thing, that last fearful thought in the back of your mind… that’s what they fight against. To keep at bay. To keep order and balance in the universe.”

“You mean…?” Isaac struggled to say the very word. “The Void? Their soldiers to fight against the inevitable? Light against dark? How… cliché.” Isaac frowned.

“Bingo, the original enemy. The very first one, you could say. Inevitability, time…” Cyclone winked at him before facing forward. “Some say struggling is what makes us truly alive. Fighting against even the inevitable, or fate, the void, death or whatever you wish to call it. The Celestials keep order in the galaxies between the known, civilized races. They’ve spent all their vast resources and wealth to research and discover new and ever-expanding ways to increase ones lifespan. Running fearfully from death… They fight against roaming marauders, space pirates and the nations that refuse to conform to their ways like the outer rings and the Cartels. Taking care of any who would threaten their pseudo immortality. They deem themselves the law and, that way, what they say is right and what we say is wrong.” Cyclone growled at the end. He spat to the side. “The void on the other hand is… well, you can feel it, can’t you Isaac? The whispering call. The cold touch. The feeling of… nothingness, inside. That emptiness is what they fear the most. What every ‘light’ fears, being turned off and consumed by the dark.” Cyclone shrugged. “Poetic and simple, really.”

Isaac didn’t want to admit to any of that.

“The void is all around us. Even now. Within this hallway,” Cyclone said, and his voice echoed down the chamber. “It is the passenger we never asked to tag along with us. Silently watching, waiting. Lurking beyond our vision, in the corner of our eye or in the dark shadows of a room. There but not at the same time…” Cyclone laughed at the look on Isaac’s face. “Makes you want to drink, doesn’t it? To party endlessly like the fools back there?” Cyclone thumbed over a shoulder from the room they’d come from. “To revel in the moment, dwell in the past, and ignore the future in front of us…”

“Lovely,” the Terran sighed, shaking his head.

“Knowing the truth doesn’t help, does it.” Cyclone gave an almost apologetic smile at that. 

“Heh, not really, no.” Isaac admitted, and Cyclone let out a harsh laugh.

The sound was very metallic, like two pieces of metal rubbing against each other.

“I know who the Celestials are. Like the Immortal Tigeron King and the Reborn Firebird… Why don’t I know about the Guardian Order, then? Why am I so… ignorant, to the void? Why do I hear it over others? I just… I don’t understand, dammit.” Isaac cursed, getting frustrated with how Cyclone kept skirting the answer.

“Simple.” Cyclone stopped and Isaac did with him. Isaac didn’t hear it, but knew the Silken Cat stopped with them up ahead, lost within the darkness. Twin golden orbs watching them from within. It was far more unnerving than this conversation was. “Your kind doesn’t know about them because you don’t need to.” The Saberwolf said. “Simple, right?” He added with that sneering smirk again.

“Excuse me?” Isaac glared at the other man. “How about, fuck you!”

Cyclone leaned closer, practically rubbing his snout against Isaac’s cheek as he whispered into his ear. “You don’t need to know the Truth, because Terran’s can’t become Guardians… Ever.” Cyclone said as if it were some great secret he had just divulged to Isaac. He jabbed a finger painfully against Isaac’s chest, making him pull back and rub the spot.

The Terran was still utterly confused about it and followed after Cyclone who continued down the hall. Thinking it over, Isaac could see some points Cyclone had been trying to make. Such as his ignorance. If Terrans couldn’t become part of the Guardian Order, then there was no real reason to let them in on this cosmic secret the Celestial nations kept for themselves.

They already kept enough from who they deemed to be the “lesser” races within the galaxy. It was forbidden to research into immortality, and yet several of these Celestial nations openly did. Even proclaiming their king immortal, for instance.

Terrans, like so many others were just a means to an end for these people.

Just another tool, as Cyclone put it, in their belt to be used against the other, ignorant nations. Keeping them in the dark to have that much more power over them. That feeling of superiority of knowing a secret, where others didn’t.

“Is that why… Celestials see themselves above everyone else?” Isaac eventually asked and Cyclone did a one-handed clap. A needlessly impressive sight. “They can become part of this Order and, throughout history, saw themselves as special and important because of this…? Better than everyone else?”

“Why do you think royalty and kings and queens existed on Earth?” Cyclone suddenly brought up, glancing over at the Terran. “Because they claimed that some god, or deity, in the sky told them that they were super special awesome.” Cyclone snorted out. “Everyone just conformed with that belief. Blindly following it. Like sheep… They were more than happy to accept such a title. That responsibility. It only fueled their arrogance and bigotry for those who weren’t chosen… fueling their superiority over them.”

“Makes it easy to overlook and abandon the rest of us.” Isaac laughed without humor.

Isaac took two more steps before noticing Cyclone hadn’t. Looking back, he could see the Saberwolf standing there. Staring at him. It was unnerving to see his dark, shadowy form staring at him with one eye. It glowed with an unnatural light. Mechanical, maybe, like Isaac’s left eye was.

That wasn’t Typhon. Typhon was pure, untouched by such… atrocities that war brought with it. Ignorant and innocent. A pure light in the dark. Cyclone wasn’t Typhon, no matter how much he might’ve resembled him. Isaac could clearly see that. He was something that made him feel fear, instead of the safety and warmth that Typhon brought him.

Isaac took a hesitant step back. Away from Cyclone.  

“What is it?” He asked but Isaac didn’t hear his voice.

“Something’s wrong, Cyclone.” Isaac said, trying to alert the Saberwolf before he felt it.

It was like waves lapping at his ankles, making his skin crawl. Cold water moving around them as the walls began to beat with life. Dripping. Wet drops, leaking through the cracks as the lights flickered around them. The walls were leaking, and the hallway was filling with something that didn’t belong.

Isaac didn’t turn around for he knew something was there. Fear crawled up his arms like hairy spider legs. Tickling the back of his neck as goosebumps formed, warning him. Just like the pain from earlier, all these things warning him for what was here.

Was it always here? Did Raphael know this? Did Cyclone? Was this all a trick or-,

“Isaac!” It was a woman’s voice, and he felt an arm sling itself over his shoulder, a weight pressing at his side. He looked over, expecting to see his old friend Kiara. But she wasn’t there. Even if he could hear her voice, feel her weight and smell the perfume she wore that night... she wasn’t there. “We’re going to be late. We need to… the test… I know your father…” Her voice came in and out like a dying radio.

He wasn’t there, in that hallway, but in the gymnasium at The Flight Academy. In an open, spacious room filled with empty chairs and balloons. It was the end of the year, their graduation. When Isaac had somehow managed to pass his finals and graduate with his dear friend.

Isaac knew this couldn’t be happening, but it felt so real. He could smell it. Smell the familiar nostalgic smell of the rubber balloons, of the spilled drink someone had spiked and see it. See it all as if it had happened yesterday, in his memories.

“Fuck. No, no, no…” Isaac took a step back and bumped into someone in the empty room. Their front was firm and solid, covered in dense fur and one of their four arms grabbed Isaac. Steadying him from falling over.   

“Whoa there, looks like someone’s been drinking.” The Tigeron said. “Took you long enough.” A strong male voice spoke up and Isaac turned around, expecting to see his classmate. To see Bai’Tai standing there. The white Tigeron with four arms and that soft smile on his face.

“No, you aren’t… I…” Isaac stepped away.

A single step, a single movement, and the room was different. Changing. Swapping. A slideshow. One picture after another flipping through. Fleeting memories disjointedly connected together. The walls continued to beat, and Isaac covered his ears with both hands.

His left arm was missing, and Isaac gawked at the hole that remained. Of where he lost his arm.

“It’s not real-,”

“It’s not that your failing, Isaac.” He was in another room. In an officer. It was his teachers. Behind her desk. Looking down at his test papers. “You’re above average, sure, if only by a few marks… when we accepted you into The Academy, we expected great things of you. Mr. Mayhew…” She shuffled the papers, setting them down and looked up at him.

Her face was missing.

A black void was there, watching him.

“We expect more from you.”

“I’m sorry.” Isaac clutched his head. “This isn’t… I’m sorry. I’ll do better next time. I’ll do better… d-don’t kick me out. M y f a m I l y…”

“Isaac!” Cyclone said. There was the sound of static as the lights flickered around them. “Don’t worry,” Cyclone stepped closer, but he didn’t move closer. Even the Saberwolf seemed surprised by that. “Isaac.” He repeated and Isaac winced as everything kept repeating. The voices. The words. The scenes replaying.

Like a movie that had already been finished. A picture book being flipped through. Pictures and scenes and memories and pieces of himself, of others, mixing together as they blended together as Isaac struggled to breathe.

“It’s like a freaking anxiety attack,” he clutched his chest, wincing. He’d never had a heart attack before, but it damned if it didn’t feel like one.

There was the beating heart again. Behind him. Whispering words Isaac couldn’t understand. Isaac wanted to turn around. To look at what it was standing there, behind him. The thing that was always there, going unseen.

There was the sound of a film reel flipping. But the credits refused to play. The movie was over, but no one was getting up to leave.

“I’ve seen better.” A voice said next to him, smooth and crisp as they took a bite of the popcorn from the theater seat. “You could’ve done more.” They looked at Isaac, who was sitting there, next to them in the theater. “Not that it would’ve change anything, mind you. There are no wrong choices, not really. That’s the cruel beauty of life. There's only your choice. Your one chance… You just have to live with them. Whatever it is you choose in the end? Make sure it’s something you can live with.”

The jackal took another bite, turning back to the screen. His fur was dyed black with golden markings around the edges, like a trimming, highlighting his features further. It circled his eyes, curving up at the end like eye lashes.

An ear flicked. “He’s calling you back, Isaac.” The jackal glanced over at him. He was taller than Isaac by at least two feet. “You aren’t supposed to talk in a theater…” The canine lifted a finger to his lips, a smirk playing on the edges of it as he looked at the confused Terran. “Make sure to tell him that for me, alright?”

“Who…?” Isaac mouth opened; his voice should’ve come out but only silence was heard. The jackal’s ear twitched.

“It’s too soon for this conversation.” The jackal gave a bittersweet smile. “Isaac, remember this. No matter what happens… you aren’t special. Sucks, I know. Such is life. I look forward to the day when we can watch this until the end…” And with a single finger, they pressed it against Isaac’s forehead. “Careful. The first step back is a-,” with a shove, Isaac was falling.

He expected to land on his back. He didn’t. Isaac was still standing there, in that dark utility hallway. The back room. A space behind the walls, within the cracks. He could hear the sound of something dripping and worried… it was himself.

“Don’t worry,” Cyclone repeated the step forward.

He didn’t move closer. Repeating the action over and over again. No matter how many attempts he tried, it changed nothing. No matter how many choices he made or different routes he took, the results were always the same.

Isaac was sure that this-,

“Isaac.”

Was a warning from the mysterious jackal he had just met.

“Isaac…”

“No matter what choice we make, we only get one, huh?” Isaac hated that it made him feel… relief, knowing that truth.

“Isaac.” Words from those around him, from woman and men and aliens… everyone but the one man, the one Saberwolf, Isaac wanted to hear from.

Taking a slow, steady breath. Isaac placed a hand on his chest. He could feel it… something. Underneath. It glowed with a soft blue light. A cool warmth like a summer storm’s breeze, smelling of rainwater and ozone.

“I-I thought… I thought that I was better now...” Isaac closed his eye. He could feel his left eye leaking. A thick stain running down the side of his face. He was so very tired of all this. It felt like he’d done this so many times before, already, and would again and again… Sometimes, he just wanted it to stop. “You fixed me, didn’t you? I’m better now. Fixed. I’m not… broken. I’m not… I’m not…” The cracks continued to form and grow, spreading out like spiderwebs. “Shit.” He cursed, trying to keep it together. “Have to calm down. TO grasp onto something, someone. An anchor to hold onto before..”  

Isaac wasn’t sure if it was the room, the windows, the lights… or himself cracking.

“Isaac…”

“Stop, please.” Isaac covered his ears as that static sound increased. Growing in volume, consuming everything until all he could hear was the white noise.

Then silence.

And a thump of a heart. A beat that sounded around them. Within the walls, as if they were alive. Thumping and beating as a heart, that wasn’t his own, sounded around them. From behind him. Isaac didn’t dare look as he felt it leaning over him, closer to him, as close as possible without ever fully touching.

Waiting for Isaac to reach out to it first.

“Isaac,” it whispered the words against his ear in a voice so familiar it brought tears to the Terran’s eye.

“Damn you, fucker…” Isaac covered his mouth with a hand as he cried.

“Isaac,” his mother said. “Why arEN’t you LOokINg at Me?” It continued to press, without ever touching, yet the pressure increased. Isaac could feel a weight on his shoulders as if it were her hand, pushing him down. The ground softened, the metal grating becoming covered by a thick, growing swamp. “SweETie? Did I dO soMEthiNG wRoNg?”

“Stop,” Isaac kept his eyes closed. “Your not…”

“Isaac…” The words were normal again. “You need to…” It cut off. “Isaac,” it repeated. “You have to…” It never finished. “Isaac… Don’t worry, no matter what. I won’t ever-,”

“Stop!” Isaac shouted and the lights exploded around them with blue energy that sparked and arced between them. Isaac felt a sharp pain in his chest and grabbed at it, holding onto it desperately as he felt his legs grow weak and the floor beneath them fade away.

From within his chest, a blue light glowed. A shimmering shard that sparked with energy, warding off the impending darkness threatening to consume everything he was, is and ever would be.

In the shadows, lit up by the blue electricity, stood Typhon standing there before him.

“T-Typhon?” Isaac reached out for him but not with his mechanical arm. With an arm that wasn’t there any longer. Isaac couldn’t see him with his eye, nor his mechanical one. He saw him with an eye he didn’t have any longer.

A hole in his head where it should’ve been. Reaching out with a left arm that he had-

“I’m sorry,” Typ-Cyclone said as he withdrew an hourglass from within his coat. “No matter how many times I try… It’s too soon. It’s always too soon. I’m sorry, I wanted… No, I needed to say, see, you, again. Now, before, after it all…” Cyclone’s body darkened, and his fur turned blacker than night. “I love you.”

It dripped.

His fur dripped off his body. Sludge running down his face, over his shoulders and arms. As if a bottle of ink had been dumped over him. He stood there, dripping onto the ground as he turned the golden hour glass around with his hand.

Letting the golden grains of sand fall, once more.

“Next time. It’ll be different, next-,” Cyclone voice cut off and Isaac was standing there.

The door shut behind them, sealing and locking. Preventing him to reach Typhon as the Terran blinked several times, holding the side of his head. It hurt. A dull ache as he looked up to see the Silken Cat ahead of them and Cyclone beside him. Trapped between the two.

“What happened?” Isaac asked, looking back at Cyclone. The Saberwolf only shook his head.

“Nothing for you to be concerned about. Raphael is waiting.” Cyclone pushed past Isaac, walking in front of him. Ahead of him. Leaving the Terran to stare at his back. Left in the Saberwolf’s shadow.

There was a dull ache in his chest, an emptiness that Isaac tried to grasp with his hand. Something was missing. A piece, gone… Then there was that warmth. A blue spark that kept him from breaking apart. Glowing softly in his chest as he could smell it.

The cool scent of ozone in the air as it hummed softly from within.

“Typhon…” He whispered softly, walking after the two. “I’ll survive, so I can see you again. I promise.” Isaac almost laughed at the thought of Typhon hearing him, yet the warmth in his chest increased momentarily in response. “Thank you…”

Isaac followed.

Isaac didn’t doubt that Cyclone would drag him along, nor doubt that the Silken Cat would try something if he didn’t hurry up. Something about the feline’s eyes scared Isaac and he wasn’t sure what exactly it was.

“How long have you’ve been workin-,” Isaac started up again, feeling a strong, overwhelming sense of déjà vu as he did.

“No talking.” Cyclone snapped his jaws at him. “Raph will answer whatever questions you have. I’m not your babysitter. Go ask your mommy for that…”

“Wow, thanks.” Isaac wanted to flip the bastard off. “My mom’s dead asshole.”

Cyclone didn’t answer him. In fact, the Saberwolf refused any further forms of communication between the two. It would’ve been easier if he had reached out and pulled Isaac’s translator off from around his neck instead of giving him the silent treatment.

Isaac wasn’t sure what the hell that was all about and assumed this had all been an act from the start. Cyclone had been playing him like a fiddle and Isaac had foolishly fallen for it. Whatever familiar bond he felt for the man was gone and Isaac looked everywhere except at the Saberwolf.

Sure, it was petty, but at times that’s what you do when the one you loved shunned you.

“Love?” Isaac wasn’t sure where the fuck that thought had come from as he quickened his pace. The other two might’ve been guiding him down this hallway, but they sure weren’t going to wait up for him.

“They don’t pay me enough for this shit.” Cyclone spat to the side, talking to the Silken Cat. Isaac wished he knew their name, but this wasn’t the right time to ask.

“You could always take our offer instead,” the feline said back. They laughed, a hissing sound like a serpent as their forked tongue slithered out, scenting the air. “Not that you ever would.”

“I prefer more materialistic wealth than what Raph’s offer would give.” The two continued to talk as if they were old friends, or rather, old rivals. The two of them kept butting heads, comparing their scores against the other as Isaac was left behind.

Not that he minded, as he rolled his eyes yet again when Cyclone was trying to brag about the number of bounties he’d brought in over the years, only for the Silken Cat to show him his earnings.

“Quality over quantity.” The feline hissed a laugh.

While they were distracted, Isaac flipped open the panel on his cybernetic arm. Tapping away on the keypad, he entered the command for the tracker in his arm to start up. It made no sound. No lights flashed. Isaac shut the panel and would just have to wait for Sphinx to get the message. The AI would alert the others and hopefully one of them could save his ass from this fire he’d been pulled into.  

“I really could go for a drink,” Isaac sighed and was beginning to feel like Juke. He hoped the coyote was okay and that he’d found a nice bar, and bartender, to cozy up to and relax while Isaac dealt with yet another dilemma popping up in his life.