Arc 3 - Chapter 33: Road to Culkia

(Reverence 4, 59 / 8:37AM)

“Both of you changed each other…”

Hope wrapped her arms around her legs.

In front of her, Elizabeth stood with her hands on her hips. Johnny’s jacket barely kept her warm, and she shivered under the freezer air. Dead skin rummaging her skin, her fingers slowly turned numb.

“How does this relate to Luke’s promise?”

“If you promise a man something that is hard to change, he’ll most likely break it. Instead of repeating the same goal over and over, how about taking it step by step?”

Hope’s frown reeked of ice, as her eyes clouded in darkness. Sensing that Hope still wasn’t convinced, Elizabeth rolled her eyes, and chuckled to herself.

“Alcoholics don’t quit drinking in one day. They’ll try to, but they’ll be running back for that booze.”

“Step by step? Like limiting how many times he’ll get angry? Rather than all together?”

“Precisely.”

She furrowed her brow, and slightly tightened her hold on her legs. Her face showing off a sense of confusion, her lips were still sunken down.

Folding her arms beneath her chest, Elizabeth hummed through her warm throat. Returning a furrowed brow back, she felt appalled, but she showed it through a sly grin.

“Don’t give me that look. In the long run, it actually works. And it’s reasonable too.”

“Why does it matter? If he’s going to break it again, then what’s the point of making promises?”

“Then believe in him.”

Lowering both of her hands, she then thrusted her right hand forward.

Even when she felt the air corrode her nerves, she insisted on staying put. Like she was punishing herself, her skin could only hold in warmth for so long. Taking a step forward, her hand was within Hope’s reach.

“Believe that he’ll conquer not just his enemies, but his demons too.”

“I really wish for that, I do… but I see him as Luke. Just Luke. And his demons make him … not Luke.”

“Then what do you want him to be like?”

“I want him to be Luke.”

“Then who’s Luke?”

Hope let go of her legs. Letting her knuckles crease against the ice, she felt her cheeks burn red. Not from embarrassment, not from anger or frustration, but from the actual air that was around her.

Unable to think, unable to comprehend an answer, what she did was ground her butt on the ground.

“Is he kind? Is he timid? Is he some lost puppy that gets kicked around?”

“Well…”

“I guess that’s your type, hehe.”

“E-Elizabeth!”

“Alright alright. Anyway…”

Shifting her body close, her fingers were inches from her forehead. Feeling her bones shiver, feeling them crackle in frost, she jittered her teeth as her blue lips crackled.

“Believe in Luke, and believe that he’ll do good to you and all of us.”

But Elizabeth felt no such cold.

Like she was embodying the warmth of humanity, even when she was a cat-human, she employed such a kindred hope. Not to the level of herself, or to Luke, but of a passion of trusting oneself.

“Fine…”

Taking her hand, she rose from the ground by sliding her back against the wall. It was like knives, like tiny particles were trying to kick in. Once her whole body was straightened out, she let go of Elizabeth’s hand.

“Let’s get out of here… I’m tired of being in this cold.”

“Works for me.”

As the two walked out, Hope pushed her hands in her pockets. Her eyes low to the floor, there was only one thing she wanted him to hear. An apology.

________________________________________________________________________

(Reverence 4, 59 / 5:09PM)

The sun’s rays shone on the asphalt, whilst sand rippled through the ground.

Dunes all around them, yellow could be seen as far as the eye could see. The van plowing through the pavement, the small potholes shifted the driver’s body the longer he drove. Gripping his hands on the steering wheel tight, Jack noticed … green in the distance.

‘Hmm … looks like a swamp.’

Meanwhile, Luke allowed his eyes to take in the sand. The dunes reaching two to three stories high, there was one object he distinguished uniquely. It was a billboard, a sign that said…

{Culkia - 50 Miles}

Once they passed the sign, Luke turned to Jack.

“We’re almost there.”

“And it’s nice that the station is outside of the city. Perfect for no one to see us.” Said Jack.

“Believe me. You’d be in joy by not stepping in that city. It’s practically reeking in manure.” Said Johnny.

“I believe it when I see it.” Jack responded.

Sitting in the back, Luna, Miles, Benn, and Hope sat on the left side, while Christian, Pacifica, Chris, and Elizabeth sat on the right. In the center of Jack and Luke, was Johnny.

Minutes turning to hours, it wasn’t long before the sand was replaced with grass. Mini swamps scouring the four-story trees, along with the thickened shrubs, both Luke and Jack furrowed their brows. Scratching his head Luke noticed many of the trees held mangos.

“Why the big change of scenery?”

“Geography-wise, any monsoon arising from the South usually strikes Southern Ticia or Khazuan Territory. Haxouburg being in the middle, and the country having such a dry climate, it pushes away moisture needed for rain. Usually speaking; we only end up getting thunderstorms that wet small areas.”

“Thanks weatherman, but that doesn’t answer Luke’s question. Why the change of desert to straight up jungle?”

“Good question, have you ever heard of the artificial world theory?”

Jack didn’t answer, but he cocked his head to the right. Even when he thinked, he drove with gripping hands.

Luke nodded his head slowly, as the question began to exercise his brain. Rubbing his chin, his fingers smoothened under his dry skin, all the while he thought and thought…

“Uh, no.”

“This theory sort of explains your question. Some people say that this world isn’t natural, mostly because of the range of biomes our planet has. Ecologically estimated, some scientists say that our biomes should take days to traverse. Ours take up half a day or less.”

“So…”

“But it makes sense. When you look at it right now, why would a swamp be right next to a desert?”

Meanwhile, everyone in the back heard their conversation unfold. They mostly couldn’t care whether the world was natural or not. But to Chris, and even Miles to a certain extent, had their ears perked.

Luke began to tap his chin, as his fingers pinched his skin. Nodding slowly, he allowed the intel to take in, even though it felt too far to reach.

“It… kind of does make sense.”

“And my favorite theory is the rumored underground city. Some say that there’s an ancient civilization beneath Aseneth Swamp.”

All the while the two talked, Jack nodded back and forth with relaxed eyes. He wasn’t tired, nor was he full of energy. Swaying his head, he tried to imagine he was listening to music, as the asphalt began to look crackled and old.

Feeling the wheels prowl over potholes, and seeing the mango trees and shrubs, it was all new to him.

“Sorry, but I got to stop you there. I highly doubt an underwater city could be built.” Said Luke.

“If the city is advanced enough, then yeah. Think about it, Khazuan Territory is lawless, and it’s drastically low in population. It can hide secrets, excavations ready to be discovered.”

“But that’s just a theory.”

‘A game theory’ thought Jack.

“But some theories can be proven true.”

“Or a conspiracy.”

With Luke and Johnny debating with one another, their words of intellect and reasons were … boring.

Christian stared at Benn. Seeing that he kept his eyes downcasted, he noticed him slightly trembling.

“You look like you might pass out. Need a bathroom break?”

“Trying to be nice?”

“More or less. Just don’t want you to soil your britches.”

“I’m doing fine. I don’t know about you.”

Christian hunched his back forward, and pushed his elbows onto his knees. His hands hanging, his posture made him look exhausted, but air held in his lungs. Fully energized, he analyzed the way Benn sat.

For a bulky man who had his back straight, his fingers twitched in intervals.

“Quit acting tough. I know you’re nervous, I could see it. But I don’t blame you.”

Some of his hair gleamed under the sun. The angle allowed rays to hit his head, and his brown cowlick glimmered. Even when the van jumped, the slight shift didn’t falter his stance.

“If any guard sees you, or even notices you, you’ll be gunned down like a cockroach in a cowboy bar. You know that right?”

“You care about me?”

“I’m just letting you know. I could be sympathetic to second-class citizens.”

Benn clutched both of his hands together, and began rubbing his fingers. Each finger fiddling with the next, he kept his stare on Christian, rather than on his own hands. With everyone silent, they all looked at both of them.

“I’m a target.”

“And you’re going to play that role?”

“I’ve always been good at being bait, and I know what I’m getting into. Again; I don’t know about you.”

Christian pursued his lips, and looked down at his own two hands. Having them clenched together, he noticed his knuckles shivering, but it didn’t take long before he kept them at bay.

Having his back still hunched, he slowly arched it straight. Putting on a frown, the corners of his lips reached the bottom of his chin.

“So what’s your goal then?”

“Don’t have one.”

“Okay then. Desire?”

“Peace.”

“For yourself or for others?”

Benn curled his lips downward, his frown aching his cheeks more than they should. Unwilling to showcase such emotions, he kept his posture firm, as the back of his head rustled with the metal.

“Why are you invested in my interests?”

“It’s just a simple question. Do you want peace for yourself, or for others?”

“You think I could just change the status quo?”

“That’s the thing shark-human…”

Christian raised his right foot onto his knee, and then folded his arms beneath his chest. His back straightened, followed by his neck and head, he made himself look like an interrogator.

Staring into the eyes of Benn, he saw that his lower eyelids blackened. He could’ve held back, but he pushed it further.

“Most beast-humans do want peace, but it's for others. I rarely find beast-humans who look after themselves individually.”

“I never said that.”

“Explain. Why are you so invested on being some anti-social—”

—He heard a snap.—

Blood trickling out from one of his fingers, Christian saw with subtle fear at one of Benn’s nails. Looking like he snapped it in half, the nail was bent, all because of the force his fists held.

Christian sealed his lips, and dropped his arms and boot from his knee. Letting his palms rest on the seat, he averted his eyes, and didn’t muster any word that’ll make him tread on ice.

‘How could I change how others see me? See my own people like … people?’

Benn meanwhile slumped forward, his frown softening as the pain began to gnaw. Keeping his eyes in a grisly chocolate, the silence that he heard was too loud, even for his small ears.

‘The only one that pushed for that was Kirk The Shark-Human. 28 years later … and we’re still suffering the consequences of his allegations…’