Arc 2 - Interlude III: Miles Brown

(Solmonath 28, 56 / 6:48PM)

On the day Ticia fell…

“Ladies and Gentlemen!”

They all felt the grisly air of the cold tunnel, blowing against their faces like the air of a freezer. Hearing shouting, cheering, all the teens who stood idly in the tunnel heard a combination of all those. Echoes grazing through the small funnel, it boomed the metallic material.

The teen in front, who had dark-complected skin, towered like a giant as he held a brown helmet. In fact, all the male teens gripped the helm of their helmets.

“Let’s give our boys a guaranteed welcome!!”

Wearing brown jerseys and football gear, it was obvious of the sport they play. Looking to be slightly burly, but not too burly, the dark teen had enough muscle to overpower even the strongest of arm wrestlers.

“As the Taiga champions in Kepputha, this game will be their last!”

Strapping on their helmets, along with a soundful click blaring their ears, beads of sweat sprouted from their temples. Echoing the aluminium like walls, it vibrated the tunnel, along with their bodies that shook relentlessly under the freezing wind. And although their hands trembled, they had them to their sides.

“And as such, please give them a thunderous round of applause! For! The! Stallions!”

A roar of applause rocked the stadium, along with the tunnel rumbling by the pressuring noise. Hearing their cue, the tall teen led his team out from the tunnel and into the light. Walking through the grassy field, they saw the massive stadium that surrounded them. Families, children, teens, adults, elders; all age groups filled the seats with roaring yells and cheers.

Even the enemy team, who were getting ready, noticed the tall quarterback that loomed like a giant. By just seeing him, the enemy players all stopped training, with some of them beginning to do little prayers.

Meanwhile, the quarter and his teammates all saw an overweight man at the edge of the white line, who wore a fluffy jacket while carrying a clipboard. Jogging in full gear, they got right in front of the man, and towered over him like a herd of sheep. Setting his eyes on the team, the overweight man set his clipboard down.

“Alright boys! Just like I said! Do your best, try your hardest, and you’ll never lose. Do I make myself clear!?”

“Yes sir!”

“Perfect! Oh and Miles…”

The coach took a few steps forward, and faced the quarterback of the team. Having medium length hair that covered his cheeks, while wearing a ponytail, he was so tall and strong that anyone could falter under his stare.

Except for the coach, who softened his eyes at the dark-skinned teen.

“Be the best man out on that field.”

“Oh I will.”

________________________________________________________________________

(Solmonath 28, 56 / 10:40PM)

In the dark woods of the taiga, laid an empty road. And prowling through that same road, was a bus scanning the dark trees of the forest with its headlights. Inside the same bus, was an abundance of loud male teens, all shouting and smiling throughout the interior of the bus.

“Man that throw was crazy!”, “Yo I thought we were going to fumble in the third quarter!”, “Nah bro, that last touchdown gave us the game!”, “Dude, Miles came in clutch not gonna lie.”

Even the bus driver had a calm face, as he rubbed his chin with his right hand. Facing the road in front of him, in back of him was the coach, who sat a seat behind him while still wearing his fluffy jacket. His ears being bombarded with heavy shouts, he had his hands on his thighs, as he smirked for himself.

“Can’t believe they won the championship.”

“Never thought I see you happy.”

“I get paid pennies to drive people that act like I get paid quarters. But in this case, I don’t mind the pennies.”

The coach swiped some hair from his head, which got stuck into his palm. Balding, he turned his head around to catch a full glimpse of the fruits of his labor.

The bus driver looked around the woods with sluggish eyes, as the low beams were unable to pierce through most of the darkness. Pushing the high beams button, the visibility in front of them increased tenfold, allowing the grass and leaves to reflect its greenness.

Opening his mouth, a yawn slithered out while he raised his hand to cover it. His left hand still on the wheel, his eyes continued to remain even more sluggish.

“Why a fancy diner outside of town? It’s pretty late at this hour.”

“The diner is willing to accommodate us. He’s a big sponsor for us, so he’s willing to go the extra mile.”

“Mile huh … don’t you think these woods look different?”

The driver began scratching his right cheek, flickering the little hairs as he passed through every tree burned by the high beams. Feeling a cold chill running down his spine, it left him feeling his stomach sweep down to his abdomen.

“Or maybe I’m just getting old. I just get that feeling like somebody’s watching us.”

The coach did the same thing, as he scoured his eyes through the endless trees blistened in darkness. Even though he felt cold, as if something did lurk within those woods, he crossed his arms beneath his chest.

“I’m sure we’ll be alright. What could go wrong at a diner?”

________________________________________________________________________

(Solmonath 28, 56 / 11:01PM)

“It’s all you can eat boys! You guys deserve it!”

Forks clicked across the surface of glass plates, leaving it to be heard all across the room. All of the football players enjoying their late night meals, the coach brought out his whistle, and squealed the air with it.

Gathering everyone’s attention, and ceasing the cesspit of food being devoured relentlessly, everyone looked at the overweight man. His back straightened, he let the whistle drop to his chest.

“I want to make an announcement!”

Pressing his right hand onto his left wrist, he pushed it back onto his lower back. Putting his feet together, it made it seem like he was a soldier, as had the same pose as most recruits in basic training.

“I didn’t want to tell you boys this, but this year is my last year of coaching football. Take this moment to your graves, you hear me?”

Many of the football players began to sigh, except for Miles. The quarterback, who was a couple of feet away from the coach, looked down at his plate that was still lavished in food.

He continued to eat without looking up, chewing and slobbering the broccoli and pork within his mouth. Gulping it down his throat, he pushed his fork down to scoop up another batch, all the while he darkened his face.

‘Guess he reached his dream goal.’

Noticing that Miles was keeping his distance from everyone, the coach took a few steps forward toward where Miles sat. Looking up from the plate he devoured, he turned his head, and gulped the food that lingered within his mouth.

“Don’t get so stressed Miles. I’ve been doing this for 30 years so it’s about time I settle down.”

“But what about the next year of players?”

“They’ll be trained by a person with new tricks. Look, Miles…”

Pulling out his right hand from his pocket, he gripped Miles’ shoulder firmly yet softly. Keeping his fork firm within his hand, he felt the tightness of the coach’s grip. All the while everyone else ate, their mouths full of steak and mash potatoes, mixed with gravy.

“Try to do more things in life than just football. In my 30 years of coaching, I’ve seen many men like you being a star on the field, but being a nobody in the real world.”

“But what about you?”

He let go of his shoulder, but he didn’t place his hand back into his pocket. Instead, he stook out his pointer finger, and tapped his right temple while radiating a smug smile.

“I found the best of both worlds.”

“Everyone! … pants … Everyone!”

Barging out of the kitchen door, the diner’s owner looked around the building with a pale face. Having a radio box within his hands, he looked over at the coach, and began running toward him like a speeding bullet.

Reaching him, he bent down, with his lungs piercing his chest the more he breathed in and out. Extending both of his hands outward, he helped the diner owner straighten his back.

“L-L… L-Liste…”

“What?”

“Listen…”

The diner owner moved the knob along the radio, trying to find the frequency he last heard. While doing so, he placed the box onto the center table, leaving everyone to stop what they were doing.

Seeing the small commotion, followed by food being balled into their mouths, their ears perked up. Until at last, the static that softly screamed was soon brought to words.

“This message is being broadcasted on all frequencies throughout Kepputha. If you already heard this message, then this message was broadcasted all throughout Ticia.”

“President Reed?”

‘Huh?’

Everyone began to hover over the box. The diner owner, continuing to heave in heavy breaths, wiped away cold sweat that lingered his forehead. Not just him, but many of the other teens felt their hands tremble a little, leaving their fingers to tap the table.

Miles in question, peered his eyes into the radio with hands in his pockets, same as his coach.

“Several hours prior, the world we know has cataclysmicly changed. At 4PM, the nation of Ticia was deliberately attacked by unknown forces, collapsing the country in just a couple of hours.”

They all remained dead silent, as their eyes were glued shut to the box that continued to speak. Unable to move even the smallest of muscles, no one dared to flinch their feet from their frozen position.

A bead of sweat rolled down Miles’ right cheek, which dropped toward the dark oak wood below. Meanwhile, the coach felt his breathing fasten, but not so much that it was noticeable.

“As President of the great nation of Kepputha, I hereby declare to militarize this great nation into total lockdown. Haxouburg and Aizzonia should be following suit as well.”

“What the hell…?”

“And I heard the bastards are mythical too! If you get killed by one, you’ll become one!”

Everyone began to shiver intensely, allowing their bodies to shrill from the sudden cold. Murmurs and whispers spreading throughout the room, the coach glanced at his students who had sweat filled faces. Miles, who clasped his hands together, turned his eyeballs down to the oak wood floor that darkened his eyes.

‘Would we be invaded too?’

“I don’t think there’s anything to fear.”

All the teens, and the diner owner, looked at the coach with tilted heads.

Putting his hand against his chest, he cleared his throat, all the while his fingers started to rub his black fluffy jacket. Feeling everyone’s eyes squinting at him, the noise around them suddenly stopped, once the radio went silent.

“The president said that the invasion happened several hours prior. That means it only attacked Ticia—”

They blacked out. Catching a glimpse of the last several seconds, he saw everyone fly and tumble around, as the shockwave barreled through.

________________________________________________________________________

Only tinnitus rang his ears. Unable to tell the difference between complete silence and deafening noise, he could barely combobulated his thoughts.

Laying on the wooden floor, as debris blanketed his chest and stomach, he wasn’t able to turn his head. Moving his eyeballs left and right, he strained them once his vision flickered. Seeing the roof completely destroyed, allowing the darkened night to blanket on top of him, the walls were mostly gone too. The only light being the street lights near the parking lot, it meant that he was given just enough light to see.

‘Get up…’

Everything laid motionless against the floor. Breathing slowly, the ringing of his ears stopped once he glanced to his far left. Tucked underneath a rubble of debris, was an overweight man wearing a fluffy jacket, barely breathing.

“C-C-C.”

His throat jumped with each consonant, as his vocals enacted as cells for his formulated breath. Constraining his neck, which sored and tore the more he turned his head, he pushed himself to the very limits of his pain. His eyes growing red, tears began to litter his lower eyelids.

“C-Co-Coa.”

He slowly pushed his body up, leading his muscles to engangle with one another. The blood within his body causing him to twitch on his own, he ignored the broken tables and utter darkness, as he saw only one thing. Feeling the debris on top of him lighten, he pushed evermore, allowing his body to finally…

“Coach!”

He lifted the debris; with his body.

Sprinting towards his coach, Miles’ breath began to swelter. Reaching the trapped overweight man, he noticed a rivet of blood flowing from the back of his head. Crouching down, he placed his hands onto the hunk of debris, and began lifting the wood from his chest.

“Coach! Don’t you die! Not now!”

His breathing erratic, his chest heaved up and down relentlessly as he clenched his stomach internally.

Pushing away the blanket of the wooden ceiling, it fell flat onto another topple of rubble. His eyes barely keeping themselves open, his breathing was shallow, making him look like he was on the periphery of death’s door. Having his hands pressed onto his shoulders, many thoughts and scenarios went through his head, mostly from his friends who happened to be all over the wooden—

He heard a thump, as if someone had jumped on hardwood.

“Who’s there—”

He saw a man several years older than him, wearing a white sports cap and a white leather jacket. Wearing white pants and boots, the man stood up straight with his chest, feet, and head pointed at him.

Unable to see his face, as it was covered in a black facial mask, his whole body went stiff as the man soullessly stared at him.

“You have three options.”

The only thing that sprouted out to him was his eyes, which can be seen but only at a given angle. Miles kept his eyes on him, like he was trying to decode his motives.

But once the man extended his hand outward, his decoding stopped. His knuckles and fingers being clothed in white gloves, it cultivated warmth needed for blood to run through.

“One, you can join us in our quest for salvation. Two, you can run away like the idiot you are. Or three …”

With his other hand, he gripped the end of a metallic object, which was hidden from view. Although he didn’t see it, Miles knew what it meant for him, if he decided to not follow the first.

“You fight me, and die by my own hands.”

The white-masked man threw the metallic object straight at him, which flew straight toward his face. Unable to catch it, it plopped to the floor, while his hands failed to even flinch. Looking dumbfounded at the metal object, he crouched down to pick it up, and noticed that…

It was his mother’s necklace, drenched in pink blood.

—“Your choice Miles.”—

A weird collection of breaths drew from his mouth. Rubbing the cross with his fingers, and feeling the cold blood slither his skin, his body shivered against the cold wind. Swaying his head softly, he didn’t want the last thing to remember was—

“Run Miles…”

He turned rapidly to the voice from behind.

Seeing his coach breathing heavily, as his throat gasped for more air, blood dribbled down his neck and into his shirt. And upon noticing the man’s trembling legs, it made Miles pale his face even more.

“Get your mother’s necklace out of here … Your mother … said it’s important to her.”

Miles' body began to shake even more. As for the coach, he kept his sluggish eyes on the masked man, while bringing out a metallic object from his jacket’s pocket.

“Take this too…”

Hearing the dangling of metal within the coach’s palm, he saw many traces of tall silver edges jangled in a circle. Looking to be a large hoop, the coach threw it at him, but unlike last time, Miles actually catched the object. Glancing his eyeballs down, the many silver edges, jingling in a hoop, was none other than…

‘Bus Keys…?’

He took a step back, but not enough for him to run away through the night. Taking one last look at the coach, who emptied out a sigh of relief from his exhausted lungs, he pushed one last smirk. A smirk that was filled with both warmth and confidence.

—“And get out of here to be the best man you could be.”—

A spark lit up within him, allowing himself to zip through the wooden floor like lightning. Having his mother’s necklace within his right hand, he passed through the many bodies laid bare amongst the rubble. Blanketed in stone hard debris, he knew their names, he knew their words, their voices, the memories they shared … he knew every last one of them like an open book.

And he was running away from it all.

Not looking back, he pushed his way toward the opened woods, and saw the bus still intact. The coach, who kept his eyes glued to the white masked man, began pulling out a military-grade revolver from his jacket.

‘I wonder how my son is doing. He got promoted to Sergeant the last time I heard of him.’

He heard two to three bullets piercing the darkened air, allowing Miles’ eardrums to be assaulted by its stricken cruelty. But it wasn’t before long the shooting stopped.

Entering his way into the bus, he sat on the driver seat, and pushed the key into the ignition to start up the engine. His left hand on the steering wheel, he roared the engine to life, and turned his head toward the direction of his hometown. For some reason, orangish light glowed from the town…

‘W-What… why is …’

—As if the town was on fire.—

[Don’t look back.]

With the engine running, Miles placed his foot on the gas and thrusted the hunk of metal due East. Driving in the dark woods, the wheels aligned itself to the country road, while his breathing maintained its haggard state.

As he didn’t look back.