Arc 3 - Chapter 75: To Feel Hope

A donkey galloped toward that group. Stalling where Luke was at, or where he sat, he slowly looked up at such a steed. Like he was awaiting his knight in shining armor, he softly smiled.

“You again? Always helping me out huh?”

“Luke? Know this burro?” Asked Luna.

“That ain’t no burrito.” Said Gary.

“It’s a burro! It means donkey!” Yelled Christian.

“Then say that then!”

Luna and Christian felt their eyes tinge in subtle frustration, but not so much as they would downright get pissed. Gary meanwhile rolled his eyes, and grumbled underneath his breath. Having his hands in his pockets, drool continued to escape from Loraine’s lips, as her snores molested his ears.

Fred chuckled to himself, and let his thoughts wonder. ‘One thing that I always ask is how little languages we have. For such a continent, we should have hundreds to thousands of cultures, but we’re reduced to just a mere few.’

English, German, French, Mandarin, Japanese, Hindi, Arabic, Spanish, Portuguese, and Swahili. Those ten languages are the only ones spoken in their world. With so many people, and so little languages, what part of history explained the birth of such dialects? Even when they were halfway to reaching their destination, Fred continued to ponder.

‘We have to know what happened before history was traced, before we started recording everything. When we’ll learn it though, is the question.’

Pushing his hands into his pockets, it was only until now, when his nails scraped against a singular glass vial. With his right hand, he grabbed it and pulled it from his pocket. Glancing down, the black sludge that stalled in its prison, remained to be asleep. ‘But, at least I can get some answers, starting with this vial here.’

They finally reached where their enemies slept.

The night being their blanket, Eren, Ada, Alexandra and Betty slept soundfully with coarse throats. Their bodies too exhausted to produce danger, the donkey led Luke toward that group. His eyes already opened, he sluggishly looked at those sprawled out bodies.

“What do you think we should do with them?”

“It’s up to you Luke. Leave them, kill them, I don’t mind either.” Said Jack.

“Now hold on, what the hell is that suggestion?” Asked Miles.

“We’re not killing them.”

The donkey took him toward the four of them, as the corners of their mouths withered out drool. Running down their jawlines, Luke felt his eyes tug down, and his chest tightened. Lifting his head an inch from the fur he laid on, his eyes took in their soulful snores.

“They were just doing their jobs. The agents, Briggs, even that spartan we encountered had no choice.”

“Luke’s right. They were all cool with us a month ago, so what happened between then and now?” Asked Miles.

“Probably brainwashed.” Said Benn.

“But still, we shouldn’t let them go unpunished.”

Sean walked over to the sleeping group, and had both of his hands stuffed in his pockets. Taking out a nylon rope, and a sharpie, he began tying them up in a single group, rather than one by one. Once he was finished, he knotted the rope tight but not too tight. Once he was finalized with the knotting, he straightened his back, and raised the sharpie like a knife.

“And for the final dose.”

Sean began his work. The four sleeping enemies didn’t feel anything, which fueled the elf to shuckle a smirk. Many of them puffed their cheeks, as air squirted in small miniscule intervals. Finalizing his last artwork, he pulled the sharpie back at last.

“There. Feast your eyes everyone.”

Dicks were plastered on their faces.

Everyone in unison pushed the air out of their mouths. Despite the injuries they succumbed to in battle, they continued to laugh regardless. Bullet holes, bruises, broken bones, they didn’t care if it amplified the pain.

“Hahahaha, guess that works.”

“Now all we need left is for Elizabeth to heal Hope. From there, we head out.”

—A black van began to take form.—

Busting out a sandstorm, the endless grains of sand scattered into clouds of dust. The engine loud enough for their ears to take in, they all lowered their hands to their holsters.

Stopping a few dozen meters away, the engine continued to roar before turning off. As it fell asleep, the sand that prowled out from the tires, had the clouds of dust fade into the night. Silence filled the empty air, until the driver opened the door. Closing it, he wore a cowboy hat and a black leather jacket.

““““““““““David!””””””””””

Letting their hands loose, they all rushed toward the cowboy. Feeling their lungs balloon, the air they took in stretched their air sacs in unprecedented levels. While the cowboy walked toward that same group, he raised a hand to the tip of his hat. And gave the man who rode on that donkey a nod.

“You did good, son. Proud of ya.”

“T-Thanks.”

“And as for all of you, you all did good too. Luna, how are you—”

While he glanced at everyone, he took in their injuries and battered states. But there was one woman, one swordswoman who wasn’t like the others. Having no jacket, and no shirt to cover her chest and stomach, David folded his arms beneath his chest.

Jenny hid behind everyone.

“You better put on a jacket. Right now.”

“Settle down old man, I had no other choice.”

“What did I say about calling me an old man?”

“What? Gonna lay a hand on me? In your state?”

“Eh whatever.”

As she rolled her eyes, she also scoffed with dried lips. Folding her arms beneath her chest, David was too exhausted to deal with such an attitude, so he looked over to Luke, Miles, Jack, and Sean. He released his arms from his chest, and began crackling his knuckles one by one.

“I hope you boys didn’t take any peeks. I always told you to look in a woman’s eyes while they speak.”

“First of all, we know better than that.” Said Jack.

“And second of all, she’s showing her ‘tatas’ to the world. How is this our fault to begin with?” Asked Sean.

“Ex-fucking-cuse me!?”

“You lot are lucky I’m tired of dealing with any bullshit. Besides, there’s something you all need to see anyway.”

He pushed his hands into his pocket, and led everyone to follow him. Stepping through the sand, they all focused their attention on that single black van.

David glanced from behind, and took in the unconscious members. Hope in Miles’s arms, Lorraine on Gary’s back, Stan’s pinkie was missing from his hand. Sean and Jack carried bags, mostly Sean, and Luke had his pockets stuffed with gold. But most importantly…

He scanned two corpses within that crowd, both carriers being in the back. The cat-girl had a man’s head resting near her chest, while the other…

—Jenny carried Kenichi princess style, his stomach pierced through by a pan.—

Without uttering a voice, David bit his lower lip, all to draw in no noise. Keeping his eyes low, he reached that passenger door, and grabbed the handle. It shook, and there was a pause, before opening it softly. What stepped out was a familiar face tattered in bruises.

““““““““““What!?””””””””””

He wore a tuxedo and a fedora, along with a man-bun on the top of his head. Having a goatee, his whole face paled like a ghost, and his breathing was already fastened. But of course, his whole body slugged with exhaustion.

“D-David sir! Why is Spartan Gabriel here!?” Exclaimed Christian.

“Tell them Gabriel.”

Gabriel had both of his hands cuffed, with the metal dug into his wrists. Having his shoes already prickle the sand, he stared with dead eyes at the group. He smelt blood, but more or less manure. Coming from the back, he already knew of what fate succumbed to Kenichi.

“Me and David had an agreement. My agents, and the agency, won’t hunt you down until you pop up in our radar again. So for now… you lot can enjoy the liberties of a normal life.”

Everyone lit up their faces. Like drinking a warm cup of cocoa, on a winter night, the weight of their imaginary sins was cleaned by the snap of a finger. But as soon as they were about to cheer, Gabriel cleared his throat loudly, making everyone turn to him again.

“But, if you do pop up in our radar, I’ll come back with a hundred men.”

“Agents?”

“Spartans. All of them. So you better behave, Dark Angels.”

They all nodded, as the mix of good and bad weighed on their mind. Whilst the Dark Angels and Pacithiests spoke, Gabriel looked into the distance, and saw four sleeping bodies. Eren, Ada, Betty, and Alexandra. No signs of Doug or Briggs, he exhaled softly through his mouth.

“You’re gonna keep your word?”

“As long as they comply.”

“Well that depends on how your government plays.”

“I’ll just tell Reed they all went missing. If I tell them they’re dead, they’ll demand proof. How’s Jenny holding up?”

Gabriel sunk his eyes into the sleeping group, most notably at Eren and Ada. David shoved Gabriel to walk, before responding to him.

“Doing much better than I expected.”

“So she grew huh.”

“Yeah, growth…”

“And from the looks of it, you haven’t grown yourself, huh David?”

Continuing to walk to his comrades, the sand beneath Gabriel’s shoes sank down. Dragging both of his feet, David already knew how much Gabriel got beaten, how much he was bruised. But his words made the cowboy tilt his head low.

“You haven’t either. No, you did change. You betrayed the Pacithiests to be a lapdog for the government. It’s like you ate the forbidden fruit.”

“To be honest, the taste was worth it.”

“Just shut up. I’m done talking.”

The cowboy shoved Gabriel to the sleeping bodies. From there, he sat on his butt, and cradled himself in between Eren and Ada. Whilst the sudden chill of the night desert took shape, David turned toward the group. Just before he could walk, Gabriel spoke.

“If we ever meet again, just know that one of us will meet Kenichi again. You know that, right?”

David didn’t say anything. Having his hands stuffed in his pockets, they were balled, tightened enough for his bones to ache. Finally resuming his walk, each step was a means to reach that loud group.

‘Not every battle has to end with death.’

Lowering his head, he didn’t look at the blooming sky above. He kept his eyes to the sand, sand that shifted with every step forward.

________________________________________________________________________

“Veil Delirium.”

One man and a woman laid on the heat-emitting sand. Trying to battle the sudden temperature change, some of them stuffed their hands into their jackets. Keeping them there, they huddled close, except for one particular man.

Jack tried to fight his way out.

“No! No! No! Don’t make me go through that again!”

“Just shut up and get healed! Besides, you're our driver, and Hope won’t be able to reach you.” Said Luna.

“I don’t care! I could still—AH!!”

Two dark miniscule clouds rummaged their way into two particular people. Scraping past their lungs and throats, they did their duty to heal, to soothe such wounds.

Being held down by Luna and Miles, tears sprung from Jack’s eyes. Everyone giggled, with Luke chuckling on the donkey he laid on. The attention shifted to Hope, who arched her whole body forward. She—

“AAAHH!!”

Rolling around in the sand, it was like an electrical current circulated throughout her whole body. Grains of yellow sinking into her clothes, it only worsened the pain.

Luna laughed, but it wasn’t obnoxious or cocky. It was a soft chuckle, a laugh that was cute to many men’s ears. Everyone who giggled turned their eyes toward her, as small tears swept from the corners of her eyes. Once she cleared her throat, she noticed the silence. In the flip of a switch, she returned her normal frown and glare; while Hope screamed her lungs out.

“What? Do I have something on my face?”

“I don’t think I ever heard you laugh like that.” Said Miles.

“What is it with my laugh?! You got a problem with it!?”

“N-No there’s no problem. We all think it’s a little cute.” Said Luke.

“W-What!?”

Meanwhile, Hope’s screaming dimmed, leaving her vocals to sour with soreness. Coughing out saliva, batches of it, she slowly rose from the ground with trembling arms.

Stan saw the whole commotion with deadpan eyes. Their arguments, their screams, he shook his head while blood still rummaged from his pinkie.

“Keep your eyes up boy.”

Sitting down next to him, Pacifica wrapped her arm around his neck. Unable to feel flustered, he allowed himself to be tilted. Having his left cheek rest against her shoulder, sleep tried to win, but the tightness of her arm grew.

“Thanks Pacifica. You don’t have to…”

“I do. If-If I’m gonna be your girl, the least I ought to do is keep you like this.”

“W-What, o-oh well…” Staring blankly, his eyes remained forward although the sleepiness tried. Deprivation, soreness, pain, swelling; it was all caused from the lack of blood flow in his body. Only taking in such warmful voices, such belittling arguments, if he were to die right there, so be it. At least he was surrounded by others. ‘Too tired to think right now.’

Jack’s torment finally ceased, leaving himself to cough dryly. His body unable to rise, his palms strained on the sand, as he looked up at Miles. Because Luna was arguing with Luke, he had the older brother to himself.

“You know, if you ever need healing, I’m gonna make sure Elizabeth is right beside you.”

“You can’t be that butthurt can you? Walk it off.”

“I’ll walk you off.”

Benn, Fred, Gary, Diego, Christian, and Jumbo; the six of them stared at their commotion. Although it was friendly, they knew that such talks would be given. Looking over at Stan, who was cradled by Pacifica, Christian felt a singular vein pulsate from his jaw.

“Just what is she doing?”

“Sorry to say this bro, but Stan swept her up from her feet.” Said Gary.

“Lucky.” Said Diego.

“What do you mean lucky?”

“What Diego meant by that is… S-Stan is a great guy okay.” Fred spoke from the tip of his tongue. Raising a hand toward the back of his neck, he felt a small glimmer of sweat run down, but he kept his eyes straightened out. “You don’t have to worry about her Christian. I know Stan better than anyone.”

“You may be right, but—”

“He’ll do good.”

An unfamiliar voice joined in on the convo. Having his arms folded to his chest, he kept them low. Staring at the sight in front of him, Christian did so too, but he still had that small vein throb over his temple. Until Benn lowered his voice an octave.

“We all are good men. There are always going to be good people, and bad people, but some of are better than others, and some are worse than others. Stan is on the good side.”

Christian felt that vein fade in real time. Loosening the strain on his literal cheeks, loosening all that he kept inside, he even exhaled air out of his nose. Hunching his body forward, he creased his eyes in a tinge of darkness.

“I sure hope so… Benn.”

He called him by his real name.

Meanwhile, Luna grabbed the front of Luke’s collar, and wrinkled the leather with nothing but her fingers. Her cheeks burning pinkish red, veins sprouted from the sides of her temples. Her mouth puffed like a chipmunk, Luke was at the front of her anger. David’s whole face darkened.

“Do not call me cute! I am not!”

“I-I-I’m sorry okay.”

“I’m dead serious! D-D-D-Don’t call me that!”

“Hehe, cutie.” Said Sean.

“What was that you—” Before Luna could even roar, someone matched her temper.

“ATTENTION!!”

All of their convos dissipated, like sand sinking into the ocean’s waves. Being right in front of everybody, he had his hands already to his sides, and his back was straightened.

“If you all are done acting like kids, then I suggest leaving! I don’t want to be here when any agents show up!”

They all began to rise, or if they already did, began to walk to him.

Having two vans in tow, Luke and the Dark Angels began their walk toward the brown van, which was near the destroyed bridge. Him, Jack, Sean, Hope, Luna, Miles, and Benn; along with Pacifica, Stan, Christian and the new donkey they acquired.

Gary, Fred, Diego, Jumbo, Loraine, Elizabeth, and Jenny all reached the back of a black van. Piling in, both widows settled the corpses nicely on the floor. Iris cooped herself up front, right on the passenger. David opened the driver door, and seated himself with a blow of air released from his mouth.

Luke’s group finally reached the back, to which they piled in as well. Once they were all well settled, all without noise, the green donkey firmly called the back home.

—Hope she doesn’t poop.

With everyone in, the back doors closed. Sealing them with a lock, Jack the driver roared the engine to life, along with the other van. Once those automobiles spurred out sand, it was only then they drove north. They were all packed of course, but it didn’t mean the end. Throughout the entirety of their little ordeal, there was one thing they officially acquired…

—A journey to share with each other. A journey only hope can achieve.—

________________________________________________________________________

(Reverence 7, 59 / 10:14AM)

“Gah!”

A man sprung out like a jack-in-the-box, with sweat drenching his face. Wearing nothing but a hospital gown, he glanced to his left and right, and saw many other sleeping men. Same attire, same wounds, it wasn’t until he noticed the walk of a female nurse. Wearing white heels, a cap, and a tight uniform, she had a pen and clipboard in hand. His eyes were still widened, and his face was still clammy.

“I suggest you rest. You agents inhaled a good amount of bromine.”

“Bromine? W-What’s bromine?”

“A chemical agent that damages the lungs. Consider yourself blessed that it didn’t kill you.”

Looking over to his drawer, he saw his usual black fedora settled near the lamp. And moving his eyes, he glanced at a chair near that drawer, to which his own clothes rested. Within his pants pocket, was a picture, a black and white photo that slightly stuck from the opening. A family photo to be exact.

He released a sigh, and pushed his head down to the pillow.

“So will I live?”

“We did tests on you and every agent who was positive with bromine. You all took in so much, your own lungs acted like sponges.”

“---”

“But God said otherwise.”

She pushed her pen into her pocket, and raised the clipboard to her face. Skimming through each bold inked letter on that page, she stopped at images, x-rays that were taken. Lowering the clipboard to her side, she glued her eyes onto the man at last.

“Your rashes are only short-term, and the gas itself was non-lethal. In fact, your body would pretend like it never happened.”

The rays from the sun, which doubled down through the windows, pushed light into the room. Looking down at his hand, the rashes his knuckles and fingers were blistered in, didn’t conjure any pain. Adjusting himself forward, he had his body arched 90 degrees rather than laid out.

“Every doctor and chemist seeing the results are utterly shocked! They’ve all been saying the same thing! The person who made that bromine somehow changed its side effects! It’s a breakthrough for science itself!”

Having the clipboard now clutched to her stomach, the agent released air from his nose. Clutching both of his hands, he rested them on his knees, before looking down at his nails. He rubbed that same rash with only a thumb, to which he felt no burn.

“Unfortunately sweety, our chemist is a mad one. That gas you all took results from, was crafted by Luke Fenix.”

She dropped the clipboard. Raising both her hands toward the sides of her hair, she dug her nails into her own head. Taking a step back, her throat jumped with each syllable as the information embodied her soul.

“Fenix!? That criminal!?”

“Yep, and the sucker is barely a young man. That’s the worst part.”

Ignoring the nurse, he stopped rubbing against his rash. Moving his thumb, he rested both of his palms on both sides of the bed. From the time he woke up, and the info he had received, it conflicted from the government’s early heedings.

‘Come to think of it, why are we hunting him down anyway? He’s young, he’s merciful, but how come the agency is making him look like a multiversal threat?’

________________________________________________________________________

(Reverence 6, 59 / 9:27PM)

Several minutes after the Dark Angels left…

A silver-haired man blinked himself awake, and took his surroundings. Left and right, pitch black covered the dunes, with the wind itself cooled down his own sweat. Budging his arms… he was bound by rope. Feeling the presence of others, they were too bound by his own predicament.

“You’re finally up.”

Eren turned to his right, and saw a man wearing the same attire as him. Having a man bun, along with a goatee, small golden zippers laced against his chest pockets. Knowing who it was, Eren felt his eyes sublime in a growing darkness.

“Did we lose?”

“Seems like it. Not only that, but I made a deal with an old friend.”

“What deal?”

“We won’t be hunting them, not until they appear under our radar.”

Eren averted his stare to the side. Taking note of Gabriel’s bruises, along with his injuries, Eren didn’t feel the pain his superior did. Already healed, a small batch of dry air escaped from his lips, as he did his best to maintain calmness. But, a single droplet of sweat escaped from his side.

“I always thought you were the strongest.”

“There’s always a bigger fish in this world son, you have to get used to it.”

“So what do we do now?”

“For now we wait. The battalion should be getting here any hour.”

The two only took in the rippling wind. Hearing it whistle against their ears, and ripple the top of their hair, they looked forward into the darkness. It subtly calmed them, subtly soothed the insides of their soul. If their path was with shade, how far could they walk through such gravel?

Until the two heard jostling, as the female agent who snored blinked rapidly. Looking around with half-lid eyes, she zipped her irises to her right and left.

“W-Where are we?”

“In the desert, waiting for backup.”

“Then what about the train?”

“That’s the thing. Luke and his group won, it’s over.”

Her fingers dug deep into her palms. Knuckles grinding against one another, she dropped them to the sand, which wallowed in small droplets of red.

“Those bastards.” Ada growled the words from her throat.

“Let’s consider ourselves lucky that they didn’t kill us.” Said Eren.

“But the moment I get my hands on—”

“Enough.”

Her body loosened tenfold. Uncurling her fingers from her palms, she turned to her side toward Gabriel, who looked down at the sand. All three of them feeling the wind, they took in the sternness of his voice.

“There’s no point in sulking here. Once the battalion arrives, I’ll report everything that happened to President Reed.”

“And what do you think he’ll do?”

Gabriel lifted his head, and stared at the never-ending horizon in front of him.

The landscape felt… empty. If he were to walk forward, he would probably find nothing. Such an empty landscape, such a hellish walk for one to prowl through, he exhaled air out of his mouth.

“Even I can’t understand a man like him.”

________________________________________________________________________

(Reverence 6, 59 / 10:57PM)

The van continued its endless prowl. Through the black asphalt road, with no light in sight, only the high beams penetrated through the sand. Jack being the driver, and Miles being passenger, they stared into the shifting dunes cascaded in shadow.

In the back, specifically on the left row, was Stan, Pacifica, Christian and Benn. The four of them were fast asleep, with Pacifica nuzzling her head on Stan’s shoulder. On the right row was Hope, Luna, and Sean. Sean was the only one asleep, and Luna and Hope stared at the donkey in front of them.

—This feels better than sitting down.

Barely able to fit the donkey in, it slept soundfully around bags of luggage. Little snores excreting from its mouth, Luke was the only one snuggling near. Having a hand press on its back, the luggage was his pillow and mattress. Whilst he laid, two pairs of boots hovered near his body.

Knowing that Hope and Luna were near him, they didn’t speak, nor did they argue. Calm, contempt with how he calmed such a creature, the two just stared. Hope had already healed his wounds, and exhaustion built up within her biceps. Luna noticed the way her eyes flickered. From out her pocket, she pulled out an aluminium can.

“Huh?”

“Take it.”

“I don’t drink energy drinks. They’re bad for your heart.”

“Just take the damn can.”

Hope scoffed, before snatching it from her hand. She didn’t open the lid, but kept it cradled with both her sweaty hands. Luna had her back straightened out, and her hands already resting on her knees.

“Not gonna drink it?”

“I told you, didn't I?”

“Well whatever. You act spoiled for a ‘nice’ girl, you know that?”

“You have no right to judge me.”

“But I admit I ain’t a saint.”

Hope felt her fingers dig into the can, to which the metal around it creaked. Without looking at Luna, she dug her eyes on the donkey, and her body slouched forward. Furrowing her brow, Luna moved her arms to fold them beneath her chest.

“Then what do you want me to do?” Asked Hope.

“That’s for you to decide. You said you wanted to help others. That was your ambition from the very start.”

She remembered the crossroads she was given. Whether to save Gwen, or to help soldiers in need, she chose the latter. She’ll never know if that was the correct decision, and she’ll remain with that uncertainty. If to help is to sacrifice, how can she prevent less sacrifices?

“My ambition hasn’t changed…”

“Huh, right.”

“And I see you’ve changed.”

“I didn’t change, I grew. Big difference.”

“But still. Are you gonna fight for Luke, or for the group?”

Luna lowered both of her arms. Having her palms glued to the sides of her chair, she looked up toward the roof. Blocking the stars, or the pitch black sky, she laid her eyes on that single piece of metal. Despite having softened cheeks, she had on a frown and narrowed eyes.

“Both. What about you?”

Hope folded her arms beneath her chest, and slugged air from her mouth. Looking down at Luke, he looked content. He pushed himself for them, not for himself. Hope was subtle with her realization, and she knew he’d grovel through anything to keep them safe. And because of that, she had to do the same.

“The latter.”

Her voice lowered to a mere whisper. Feeling the exhaustion already creep behind her shoulders, she yawned, before settling the can near her thigh. She lowered her head, and closed her eyes, as sleep finally got a hold of her. Moving her right leg, she accidentally dropped that aluminum can to the ground.

Turning right, Luna softened her eyes before feeling that exhaustion. Her eyelids acting like anvils, she allowed the weight to finally win. It wasn’t even five seconds later until the walls throttled with snoring.

Turning to his side, Luke noticed Luna already fast asleep. Arching his body up, he took off his leather jacket, with his white shirt already speckled in small bits of sweat. Rising with half-knees, he reached to where Luna was, and like a blanket…

—He covered her with it, blocking anyone that’ll take a peek.—

—Rest Luna, you did well.

Reaching to where Hope dropped the can, he picked it up. Keeping it cradled near his side, he took a small glimpse of her blonde hair.

—So do you Hope. You two earned it.

Lowering his knees to the luggage, he finally laid on his back once more. Laying his legs flat, his hair and head groaned under the hardness of such a suitcase. Staring at the black ceiling, he could only take in everyone’s snoring, and the rumbling motion of the van they rode on.

Taking one last look at Luna, he had his eyes locked on her. Her lips parched, and with them being slightly open… he shook his head.

—I’m no prince from a fairytale. Come on Luke, what are you thinking?

Closing his eyes, all he could take in was the ambiance of two distinct sounds. Being from below and above, he finally succumbed to the weight of his eyelids. With Jack being their driver, he was the only one to bring everyone—

Home.