Salvation Wears a White Mask

A cruel tyrant who had overrun the realms of reason and reasoning, pain had taken over Nicolas's entire universe and left him a prisoner inside his own body. Every throb from his broken hands seemed like a hammer blow to his brain, a vicious cadence that tightened around his temples like an iron band and was timed to the furious beat of his heart. Hunched over him, Pazzo's silhouette appeared hideous in the laboratory's waning torchlight. The rudimentary instrument in the professor's fingers, a terrifying device fashioned from the ruins of civilization and made for the one and only horrifying purpose of digging through a skull to get to the brain, glowed with a sinister promise.

Pazzo placed the icy point of the instrument between Nicolas's brows on his forehead. In a world already engulfed in pain, the cold metal felt like a brand against his heated skin, a burning point of contact.

"Don't be scared," Pazzo said in a whisper, his voice echoing with the fervent enthusiasm of a high priest overseeing a holy rite. That perilous fire that danced a perilous waltz between genius and lunacy flashed in his eyes. This will only be a tiny opening. A modest window that provides access to the sacred haven of your consciousness, the spectacular electrical storm that is your brain.

Taking hold of the tool's wooden handle with both hands, he prepared to throw his entire weight into the dreadful task. Nicolas closed his eyes tightly. The rest of his body had given in to the inevitable, but a final, desperate glimmer of hope still thrashed in a corner of his mind. But the white-hot flash of all-consuming anguish he had been bracing for, the grinding sound of splintering bone, never materialized.

Instead, when Pazzo's movement suddenly stopped, he felt the pressure on his forehead disappear.

Sharp and agitated, the professor's murmur sliced like a blade through the faint hum of the lab. "What's that noise?"

It started off as a deep, rumbling rumble, a tremor that seemed to emanate from the bedrock itself. Pazzo scowled at the sudden interruption, his expression a mask of obvious anger. But the deep rumble turned into a loud explosion before his question could completely fade into thin air. A massive boulder struck the laboratory's weakest wall from the outside, where Hector had placed the torches, causing it to collapse inward.

A wave of concussive shock tore through the room. Fragments of stone and mortar flew through the air as Nicolas's ears rang with a high-pitched whine, destroying Pazzo's painstakingly placed glass jars, his anatomical charts, and the delicate systems he had spent years creating. Immediately the cold, iron-scented night air surged in through the opening, choking the room in a blinding cloud of smoke and dust.

Hector used his cloak to protect his face, avoiding the worst of the flying debris with the natural agility of a panther. Without any delay, he snatched the bow from behind him and looked out through the newly created gap. The tough, uncaring mask he wore cracked momentarily at the image that met his gaze. The shining steel armor and royal-crested shields of almost a dozen warriors were visible outside in the wavering torchlight. Lucas stood at the front of them with his sword in hand, his face contorted into that sardonic, angry grin.

Hector snarled, his voice hardening with a rare tightness, "The King's soldiers." "They've located us."

"It's impossible!" Pazzo let out a roar, not that of a scientist in a tight spot, but rather that of a god whose holy temple had been vandalized by savages. "Only I knew the coordinates for this base! Nobody could have known!

Hector took action instead of debating the theoretical. He released the first arrow after drawing his bowstring as far as it would go. With a deadly hum, it struck the helmet of the front-line soldier and bounced off with a mechanical cry before disappearing into the darkness. The combat was declared to have begun by the gong. Pazzo hesitated for a second, then dropped his priceless subject and hurried to the lab's left. As though playing a ghoulish organ, he started to frantically turn a set of corroded levers and wooden gears on the wall.

He yelled, "This place won't hold me for long!" above the hissing and grinding of the triggered mechanisms. “A group of small-minded idiots won’t undo years of labor!”

Immediately, the lab turned into a lethal funfair. Soldiers daring to charge inside were met by jets of toxic steam erupting from the walls, iron bars shooting out from the floor, and scythes swinging down from the ceiling on concealed pendulums. On his stone altar, Nicolas was briefly forgotten in the midst of this commotion. He realized that this was his only opportunity, even though his hands hurt so much and his ties seemed to be too strong. He prayed for a miracle while arching his body like a bow and exerting all of his strength on the ropes.

His eyes suddenly noticed an irregularity in the whirling shadows created by Pazzo's lethal devices.

It was there. A shadow, moving soundlessly amid the roar of combat and the whirling cloud of explosion dust. It was completely unmoved by the chaos around it, moving like a phantom. The slim figure suggested that it was a woman, but a smooth, matte-white mask with no characteristics or pattern covered her face entirely. Her dark, leather-like garment was a perfect fit for her physique, highlighting the smooth motion of her muscles without revealing who she was.

She was by Nicolas's side before he could even comprehend her coming. Between her gloved fingers a tiny, curved blade materialized, and she cut the heavy ropes that bound his wrists in one smooth stroke. Next, his ankles. Nicolas was unencumbered.

Leaning in, the woman in the mask murmured in his ear. Although she spoke in a calm tone, her voice had the firm, commanding power of a leader. "Keep your mouth shut, and take my hand."

Nicolas was taken aback. A mysterious hero had freed him just seconds before his brain was set to be drilled. "What?" was a breathless rush of air that came out of his mouth.

The woman didn't spend any time. She took a firm hold of Nicolas's unhurt hand. The universe altered the instant her skin touched his. Her touch sent a chilling tremor through his body, like though he were being drawn into a block of solid ice. Around him, hues faded into a subdued, shimmering gray as the light started to bend and warp. Through a curtain of flowing water, the world turned into a landscape. After a moment, it seemed as though they had simply left the boundaries of reality. They were no longer apparent. When Nicolas looked down at his own hand, all he could see through his now-transparent palm was the lab's stone floor, which was smeared with blood and dust.

No one paid attention to the two invisible figures that discreetly slipped from the side of the stone altar, passed directly between the two warring sides, and disappeared into the night while the troops who had broken into the lab struggled with Hector's lethal arrows and Pazzo's insane traps.

Hector came up to Pazzo, who was standing amid the debris of his laboratory, a few minutes after the soldiers had been forced to flee after suffering significant casualties due to the unexpected resistance. His visage was a thundering mask, more sooty and frustrated than ever.

He responded, "The subject is gone," in a voice laden with frustration and rage. "No sign. The escape was too tidy. Most likely, it was a premeditated attack meant to divert our attention. Andrew, what should we do now? Find us another topic.

Gazing through the wall's opening, Pazzo's gaze followed the last of the fading torchlight as it vanished into the forest's depths. His expression had changed from one of rage to one of eerie, icy calculating. He set the bleeding mallet on a table carefully.

His voice was as cold as ice, but it rang with a renewed resolution. "We will pack our things and stick to the plan, old friend," he murmured. "This small setback won't deter us. Whatever it takes, I want you to find that boy.

Hector furrowed his brow. "Why him in particular?"

"Because his brain is fresher than the others," Pazzo retorted. The others have been here over two years; this environment may have tainted their neurological connections, causing them to react more slowly. That boy has a lot more potential to get us out of here than they do.

"It won't be simple," Hector said.

Pazzo lowered his voice to a low, threatening tone and continued, "You will make it happen if you ever want to see your daughter again."