justanotherblogger

[justanotherblogger]

A World Without Him

Chapter 24

Slivers of smoke billow up from craters located through what used to be a small town similar to Bellfield, if Tang had to guess from what remains of its foundations. Swarms of people scurried by with varying degrees of exhaustion etched on their faces, all of them wearing a uniform similar to his own except for a matching patch of simple red flowers over their hearts.

Harrison barely bats an eye at the setting, sidestepping the frayed workers with ease and diverting towards a crowd in front of one of the many aid tents set up in the area. Tang hesitated at the sight of so many people, but Harrison continued to get close, the crowd parting for the lieutenant like the Red Sea and letting him through without issue. 

This move didn’t account for Tang, however, leaving the scholar resorting to throwing elbows into guts and kicking shins to get through as well, ignoring the groans and shouts of protest.

He was practically gulping up air when he finally got to the entrance of the tent, scrambling after Harrison to follow inside. He quickly wiped the sweat off of his brow with the back of his sleeve when he finally got close again, subtly glancing around the place as he trailed after the lieutenant.

It was pretty bare other than some foldable tables strewn throughout the dirt floor and the many people milling about inside. They held many different items like basic first-aid supplies, water bottles, and small protein bars, though they were scarce. 

Tang openly stared around him, slight confusion clear on his face. Harrison just continued further into the tent, eventually turning to the left where a person with Tang's exact uniform stood behind an empty table, half asleep on her feet.

The lieutenant glared at the worker, lifting his arms and abruptly clapping his hands in front of her face. She flinched violently at the sound, tripping over her feet and falling onto her butt. She groaned in annoyance, but quickly silenced herself when she met Harrison's gaze.

He just grumbled to himself, looking back at Tang probably out of habit. “I don't know why the Captain allows this behavior to continue. This stuff is clearly why we aren't being taken seriously by the other Companies.” Tang mumbled a sound of agreement with a bit of uncertainty, unsure what to say to that, but Harrison didn't seem to care as he looked back at the fellow inmate.

“Get your ass off the ground and stop looking at me like I'm gonna tear your face off. The new guy will be replacing you for distribution work, so you should get back outside and check in with Smith. You know where to find her.” He ordered coldly, turning on his heel and leaving the tent without another word.

Tang just blinked at the abrupt exit, slowly turning towards the woman who had finally gotten to her feet again, dusting her uniform off. She had tanned skin, a blonde pixie cut, some freckles dusted on her face, and hazel eyes that still seemed slightly foggy from sleep.

He coughed awkwardly, giving an unsure smile. “Uh, hi, I'm Tang. What are we supposed to do here exactly?”

Freckles gives him a once-over, then raises an eyebrow at his question. “So you’re the new grunt.” She says matter-of-factly.

His smile becomes a bit crooked, eye twitching slightly at the reminder. “Erm, yep. Just got “brought in” about a day ago, I think.” He comments bitterly, scowling as he makes visible air quotes with his hands.

She lets out a snort, eyes gleaming with mirth. “Yeah, no one here is all that friendly to outsiders. I’m just surprised you aren't more roughed up from the get-go, considering everyone’s been a bit trigger-happy since something got through the barricade. And to answer your question, you just check on that clipboard how many times someone comes in here.

“They each have a number, so they just have to show you it from a necklace or bracelet, and then you add a tally for the day. Also, no one can grab more than one water bottle or 2 bars at a time, only 2 times a day besides the mandated breaks for lunch and stuff. Then everyone gets the same amount, it doesn't matter what rank or alleged workload.”

Freckles takes a breath, crosses her arms, and leans back onto the table, waving a hand around for emphasis on what she’s saying. “And you don't really have to worry about guys taking more than what they're allowed, that's not your job. Just write a tally near their number and let them be on their merry way.”

She sighs as she finishes her spiel, looking over to Tang silently. Her expression shifts from slightly exasperated to considering when their eyes meet again, tilting her head at him like she's studying a puzzle of sorts. The intensity of the gaze makes Tang fidget with the bell on his wrist, glancing everywhere but her direction.

She opens her mouth slowly, almost calculating. “You know, I've never seen a case like you before. How did you get here without a scratch, huh? I saw the lieutenant was escorting you personally, so you must be at least slightly important. But why are you being watched then? Definitely not because of your fragility, they don't care about that here.”

Freckles scoffs after mumbling her thoughts, looking back at Tang as a cold sweat runs down his neck. He doesn't know exactly what she’s insinuating, but it can't be anything good based on her tone. He interjects before she can speak again, trying to clear up whatever she’s imagining.

“Okay, I’m not sure what you’re talking about, but I'm not some secret informant in witness protection or whatever similar trope you’re thinking of. I was delirious and running on fumes trying to find somewhere safe for an injured friend when I got here, and I didn’t expect to get interrogated just for collapsing on the street, either. And to be honest, I found this place by pure luck, and it's not my fault these guys overreacted to what-”

“Wait.” She interrupted, a look of pure shock covering her face. “You were the guy who got past the barricade? The one everyone found barely alive on one of our main roads? The one that no one noticed crossed over until you were smack dab in the middle of town!?” Her voice raised in pitch the longer she went on, disbelief clear in her voice.

Tang opened his mouth to speak but she beat him to it, badgering him with questions. “I thought you would've been imprisoned in the brig! Oh my gosh that's why they have that hot-head following you- Are you being held captive? Of course you are, you're wearing the inmate uniform. Did they torture you? Interrogate you? You don't have any visible injuries but that doesn't count for much as you look like you would fold like a wet paper towel from a light glare-”

“Okay, rude-” 

“But seriously,” She started, standing up and grabbing Tang tightly by the shoulders. He noticed she was a few inches taller than him as a shadow was casted over her face, the hazel eyes almost glowing in comparison.

“How did you get through unnoticed?”

Silence permeated the air. Everyone else in the tent seemed to notice the yelling and the growing tension, whispering amongst themselves as they stared at the two. Tang didn't know what to say, his throat seizing up at the thought of saying anything at all.

The grip on his shoulders tightened even more at his silence, almost bruising as her voice thickened with false friendliness. “C’mon fresh meat~, I'm not exactly a patient lady here, and I know you’re holding out on-”

“Inmate Park.”

“HOLY SHIT-”

She jumped violently at the sudden intrusion, tripping over her own feet again and almost bringing Tang down with her as she death gripped his shoulders. The pair wobbled for a second until they finally balanced out, with Park having to meet Smith's unamused face.

She jumped away from a rattled Tang and straightened herself out, smiling lazily towards Smith. The red head only narrowed her eyes at the display. “I needed you on cleanup duty 5 minutes ago. Make haste and stop bothering the other inmate unless you desire a harsher punishment.”

Park gave a mock salute in response, trailing back over to the tent entrance with Smith following close behind. She locked eyes with Tang right before she left, something akin to fascination filling her gaze before she was swept back into the fray outside. 

Now alone in the tent, Tang's heart beat frantically in his chest. He wasn't sure why that shook him so much, but he wasn't too keen on experiencing it again just to find out.

He sighs and takes his place behind the desk, loosely grabbing the clipboard with one hand. Rubbing his shoulders from his most recent violent encounter, he looks around for something to rest on, as his legs are currently killing him.

He groans when he sees there aren't any chairs in the tent, grumbling even more as he trekked over to an empty crate and flipped it on its side to use instead. Slowly dragging it to the table and finally sitting down after what felt like forever, he took a deep breath and stretched until his bones popped, letting out the tension.

Getting as comfortable as one can on a crude wooden crate, Tang gives a cursory glance around the tent, seeing that many of the people around had left along with Park and Smith. There were only a couple still inside dawdling about, either looking at him curiously or avoiding him entirely. 

This new air in the tent should be a cause for concern, but less people around means less work, he supposes. 

He sighed deeply, letting his head fall onto the table with a light smack and using his arms as a makeshift pillow. He closed his eyes for a moment, realizing how exhausted he was as he practically melted into the table.

A few minutes passed by like this, leaving Tang to his thoughts as his breathing evened out, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. His mind became cloudy, letting parts of past memories float to the surface. 

He briefly remembered things, things like the artificial taste of watermelon mixed with stress from studying back in Megapolis, the smell of saltwater that was oddly calming near Sandy's boat, the sound of Mei and Mk squabbling in one of Pigsy's booths that always brought a laugh out of him, and the sight of willow branches gently swaying over him in the breeze, a female voice calling out to him beyond the leaves. Though, that last memory seemed fuzzier than the rest, almost muffled.

He doesn’t dwell on the odd feeling attached to the memory, sighing contently as it replayed in his mind. He doesn't remember exactly where it was from, but he was glad for the rest in his mind compared to the last few dreams he’s had.

A decent tug on his wrist drew him out of his head. He heard a voice say something, but he didn’t care enough to listen as he waved a hand at them, hopefully getting his intention across as he tried to get comfortable and close his eyes again. Whoever was in front of him didn’t seem to appreciate the gesture, though, as they grabbed his wrist once again and yanked him violently to the right, sending him tumbling off of the crate.

Tang shouted in surprise, landing hard onto his side. He coughed a few times on the floor, trying to get lost air back into his lungs. He turns his head to glare at who dared to throw him, but quickly loses his resolve once he sees the white eyes and translucent skin on the perpetrator.

Cian grins down at him from behind the table, quickly phasing through it to stand over top of Tang’s fallen form. ‘Hello there, little rat! How does the dirt taste?’ It asks cheerfully, still grinning sharply as Tang slowly pulls himself up off of the ground.

He doesn’t deem it a response, glancing at it warily as he sits back onto the crate, rubbing his side and drumming his fingers on the table as a nervous tick. Cian follows his line of sight, staying in view while it decides to kick up its feet and float above the ground, like he was lounging on an invisible bean bag chair in the air. 

Tang felt a pang of envy at the action, but he didn’t react other than averting his eyes back to the abandoned clipboard, grabbing it again and rubbing the edges absentmindedly. Cian doesn’t react to the blatant attempt at ignoring it, chuckling lightly as it casually floats over to Tang’s face, only inches away. ‘I didn’t scare that badly, did I? Oh, don’t be so dramatic, even though I know that might be hard for someone like you. It was all in jest, I assure you!’

Tang’s eye twitches as the thinly veiled insult, a retort in the back of his throat itching to come out. The only things holding him back were the warnings of the two voices back from the medical tent, and the fact he was in public and would be seen shouting at thin air. He didn’t want to be known as crazy alongside all the other rumors surrounding his arrival, if Park’s reaction earlier was anything to go by.

Cian’s grin drops to a thin line as it leans away from Tang’s face and crosses its arms, staring him down from where it lounged in the air. ‘I came here to discuss your outbursts, but I suppose you’re above talking to the voices in your head now, right? Pretending to be an upstanding member of your pathetic society?’

This makes Tang stiffen in place, stopping his fidgeting as he slowly glances up to Cian with suspicion. It never really explained why his outbursts were happening, or what they even were specifically. He knows it could lie to him with little effort, but something to go off of to start would be helpful. It’s not like the voices from the medical tent were much help in that aspect. 

… why are you calling me a rat?  He starts, giving Cian as little interaction as he can. It doesn’t matter, though, as Cian gives a smug grin in response, showing its sharp teeth proudly.

‘I feel like that name better suits you than my previous one. Something small, skittish, weak, COWARDLY. You can barely even handle the power you’ve inherited, and I don’t particularly like false assessments.’ It squints its eyes at him, still smiling and talking casually as if he was speaking about the weather.

Tang gives a half-hearted glare in its direction, quickly glancing back down at the clipboard afterwards. What exactly do you know about my outbursts?  He asked matter-of-factly, sensing how Cian dramatically mulls over the question, tilting its head and tapping its chin.

‘Demanding, are we? Well, I know for a fact that these outbursts occurred from your own overuse. You used it sparingly before, on lesser leveled spells as well, so it didn’t affect your body as badly. I don’t know how you were able to even cast that combination spell against the Lady Bone Demon, but the sheer power that circulated through it to injure her was greater than your own magic reserves, which are almost impossibly small.’  It recounted, sticking a finger at his chest to emphasize its point even as it phased through.

‘Using that spell and experiencing that surge of power opened the floodgates of magic in your puny mortal form, so to speak. It tricked itself into believing it had more space than it does in your body, leaving it flowing into your small, untrained reserves like an overflowing cup of tea. The magic seeps out, and a number of things can trigger it to activate without proper guidance, mainly your volatile emotions, which causes the outbursts.’

Tang puts a hand to his chest thoughtfully, still processing what he had heard. Cian seemed to revel in the reaction, looking expectedly at his face. He blinked a few times, mulling the words over in his head, then sighed heavily, reaching up to mess with the gauze still barely holding his braid together. Can anything… stop them?

Cian hums thoughtfully. ‘There are only two things that I can think of, but you are NOT going to like either of them.’ It says casually, now back on its feet as it inspects the tables and people still in the tent, though the distance doesn’t affect its volume as it still sounds like it's only inches away from him.

Tang just groans quietly to himself, already dreading the question he’s going to ask. And what exactly are they?

Cian appears inches away from him in an instant, causing the scholar to flinch slightly at the sudden movement. ‘Well, since you asked so nicely, I’ll inform you. Option one, you seal off the magic reserves in your body to stop the leakage. This is not exactly ideal, as it will stop you from using magic permanently. And before you ask, I know it's permanent because I have seen many try to reverse it before, and fail miserably. Option two, the best option for YOU, would be to manually grow your magic reserves so the excess won’t leak out.’

After a small pause, it finally leans back from Tang’s personal space, crossing its arms again and leaning onto thin air, giving him an appraising yet judgmental look. ‘The reserves would normally grow with you as you age, but since yours were so small and meager when you were born, they won’t be large enough to take in the brunt of our magic until you are well over a couple centuries old. So, to combat the slow growth, you will need to train in your stability and expertise to grow them manually. It will be more difficult now compared to your youth as the reserves aren’t as malleable, however, it is the better alternative than sealing them off for good.’

Tang takes a deep breath, biting the inside of his cheek to ground him. You can tell me all about whatever rigorous training I need to go through after we get out of here. How long did you say you’ll need? A week?

Cian actually seems to balk at the mention, the grin on its face faltering for a brief second. That was all Tang needed to see, though, as he felt flickers of exasperation starting to bloom in his chest. You did say you would only need a week, right? I might be having issues involving magical outbursts and hallucinations, but I remember you saying that quite clearly when we got here, no other monochromatic effects or voices present at the time.

Cian grins at him, but it seemed more forced than its previous ones. ‘That is slightly more inaccurate as of now.’

Tang openly gapes at Cian’s lounging form, eye twitching once again, uncaring for the stares he got this time. What!? Does that mean I can’t leave!?

‘Not exactly.’  It replies, looking away from Tang and towards the tent entrance. ‘I was able to do some exploring while you were unconscious, and what I found wasn’t promising. Now that we are further out from the main containment of Bellfield, I can sense the residue of demonic magic all over this place. Something in Bellfield was overwhelming the feeling earlier, so I couldn’t sense it before. So even if I do recharge, if I try to leave the area we will be ambushed by something akin to what attacked you and that leech on the road, probably with reinforcements that I can’t take out with my current state.

‘You will need to train your reserves here, even with the less than desirable conditions, if you want to stop the outbursts.’  It finished, looking back to Tang.

The scholar doesn’t exactly know what to do with that information. So what you’re saying is that there is a demonic presence powerful enough to kill us if we leave and that I have to train here? While I’m imprisoned with literal sludge for food?!

Cian rolls its eyes at Tang, or what feels like one from someone who lacks pupils and irises. ‘It’s not like you will be subjected to unbearable torture, little rat. Though, it might take much longer than necessary if you aren’t naturally adept to the method, which is most likely the possibility considering who you are. However, this is still far better than losing your magic ability entirely.’ It says casually.

Tang gives a heated glare to Cian, barely restraining himself from shouting expletives at the apparition. Why are you so determined for me to keep my magic anyways?! All I want at this point is for these outbursts to STOP and to get back home. If I sealed my magic, at least one of those things would be done and all I would need to do is wait this place out, letting whatever is out there deal with these people and make a big fuss that I can sneak away from!  The scholar knew he was starting to sound delirious, even in his head, but he couldn’t stop.

Cian turned its head slowly, fixing Tang with a sharp glare the scholar had never seen from it before. ‘I care because we are connected MAGICALLY through our contract and I need you to grow so I can get us out of here. If your magic reserves improve, so do my capabilities in your body. There is no guarantee that you will be able to escape after your powers vanish, even YOU know that. If you seal away the magic, then I can’t help you, and I can’t channel my powers through your body anymore. You will be completely defenseless.’  It says sharply.

The tone shocks Tang slightly, never having heard anything stronger than annoyance or cruel honesty directed at him before. He can tell it isn’t telling the whole truth, but it’s still making a strong point with what it’s willing to disclose and he isn’t willing to poke and prod for information while it’s in this state.

Before the scholar can say anything in response, Cian has already turned its back to him, hiding its face. ‘I will let you process this into whatever simple terms you probably think of. I have better things to do than explain such simple concepts to a weak-willed mortal like yourself.’  This is all it said before dissolving into a glittery orange mist, completely vanishing from view a few seconds later.

Tang was left gob smacked in the tent, feeling agitation making a nice home in his gut as he grinded his teeth in frustration. Now uncaring for any eyes still stuck on him, he stands and shouts jumbled curses to the air, throwing the clipboard down onto the floor in his rage. The loud smack of wood on dirt echoes through the tent almost like a curse itself, leaving the space in complete silence as the scholar sits back onto the crate, angry and defeated.

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[justanotherblogger]

A World Without Him

Chapter 23

Tang doesn't know how long he was trapped for, but he knows it's been long enough, and he wants out. Turns out being stuck with only your own annoying, crazy, and self deprecating thoughts starts to grate on your nerves after a couple hours(?) of nothing but earworms and existential dread coming in regularly.

He would actually prefer some of those voices that were usually here by now, even the hands around his ankles, maybe even the stupid buzzing if it could drown out his own inner voice and get him to wake up. He just couldn't stand all these thoughts and he was just so tired of this place-

A sudden burst shut him up. It was back. The energy from before had come back, zipping around, almost frantically, around him. His eyes shot open, the whiplash from nothingness to something causing his heart rate and breathing to kick into high gear.

Tang had expected the energy to disappear, to slow its pace and fall back into obscurity like before.

This was nothing like that.

The sheer presence it held took his breath away; he could barely keep himself from shaking at the image in front of him. Lights and colors he'd never seen before danced around him, combining and dividing infinity in front of his eyes. Among them, he swore he could see shapes and images flash for a moment inside the swirling cacophony; faces, places, even still frames of what he assumed were major battles were conjured then consumed by the ever-shifting mass.

It was beautiful. It was dangerous. It was powerful. He didn't know what it was. It seemed ethereal. He didn't know what it could do.

His body moved on its own, an arm reaching out towards the mass unconsciously. A small voice in his head screamed at him to stop, to back away, but his body wouldn't listen. Everything fell into the background, his eyes focussed on his hand slowly approaching disaster.

Dread filled his gut, heavy along with anticipation. When the distance finally closed, though, his hand went right through the colorful light, a warm sensation covering his palm.

He watched, transfixed, as a bright orange came from his palm, tinting the surrounding light. It started to spread, staining more and more of the mass a glittery, shimmering orange as the energy was lulled and slowed from the shift.

When he tried to pull his hand away, a sudden weight washed over his body, something similar to a weighted blanket thrown over him, slowly dragging him down in the low gravity.

It was almost unnoticeable if you weren't paying attention, but after feeling absolutely nothing for too much time, you start to notice the little things that change.

He was shocked at the feeling, how the weight seemed to increase slowly but surely. The hand touching the colorful mass was hung above his head as he descended, stuck to the orange lightshow as he seemed to drag it down with him. Another new thing. He didn't like how many were happening at once.

He tried to lift his other hand to move, his legs to kick, to move anything, but they were once again numb to his pleas. The only thing he could feel from his limbs was the warmth on his suspended hand.

The weight on his body only continued to increase as he fell, similar to the feeling of being covered in a bucket of tar, not that he would know anything about that personally…

The heavy pressure enveloped him entirely as he sunk further and further into the void's depths. He felt his eyelids grow heavy, succumbing to the ever-present weight over them as they slowly closed.

His limbs slowly started to become responsive again, similar to when they fell asleep when he passed out at the library too many times and woke up to his head on his bicep, cutting off circulation.

The tingly feeling only grew as the weight became more intense. He felt like pins and needles were constantly stuck into his skin, like a very morbid human porcupine or pin cushion.

Tang couldn't even huff at the image he’d created in his head as everything felt too heavy to move, too uncomfortable to even try.

After a while, he could feel the mass start to glow brighter, muted orange hues shining through his eyelids. To his surprise, he could feel the sparks of energy start up again, quickly detaching from his palm and swirling through the void as it circled his body.

Because of this, he almost didn't notice when he could completely feel his limbs again, how the weight over his body stopped increasing, and when his body finally collapsed onto a hard, solid, surface. He did, though, and he jolted violently at the sudden sensation, his lethargic limbs twinging at the sharp tingling feeling when his body made contact.

He was hit with an odd sense of deja vu as he tried to pull himself up from the cold, hard surface. As soon as he started to move, however, the energy circling his presence violently dispersed, the concentrated form it held earlier fracturing and scattering into specs across the void.

Tang opened his eyes in confusion, blinking away the haze that covered them. When it cleared, the smell of smoke and ash suddenly assaulted his senses. He coughed violently into his elbow, gasping for air as the surface under him seemed to… warp.

Gone was the cool, smooth surface, replaced by rough wooden planks. He could feel ash start to pile up on his skin, the course texture shifting as he tried to sit up. A harsh bump from below jostled him back onto his elbows, sending stray ash flying into the air.

He let out a frustrated huff, coughing once again as the ash burned into his throat. Back on the floor, he could feel the vibrations of motion under his legs and palms, wooden wheels traversing uneven dirt roads. The feeling was oddly familiar, making his brows crease in confusion.

Slowly rising to his knees, he settled into muscle memory, adjusting his position while he leaned on the side of the… wooden cart. Huh. I haven't been on one of these in a while.

Looking around, Tang saw what looked like a nightmare-ish version of the Bellfield square. The buildings were all wrong, starkly different from the tents, stands, and warehouses of the current bellfield. What he remembered to be well built houses and storefronts lined the square instead, either on fire or having taken significant damage as the flames roared on.

Ashes and debris lined the road, oddly far enough away for the cart to pass on by. Holes and craters lined the ground as well, pieces of the earth jutting unnaturally towards the sky.

No…

Tang knows what this place is. He knows what's happened, and has enough common sense to know that he's most likely dreaming. But everything still seems too real.

The familiar way the buildings collapsed from the inside, the way everything from the ground, walls, people had just dented and splintered apart from something no one could register. Everything was the same, down to the minute details of where the fires burned to how the breeze blew the remnants away in sweeps of ash.

Except for something.

There wasn't any blood.

He knew that people had gotten hurt that day, back when he was a boy and was… something. Whatever. It didn't matter why he was there, because what happened regardless is something he knows all too well.

He can almost imagine the mixed smell of blood, burning flesh, and smoke all too well. He gripped the side of the cart harshly, the rough wood digging into his hand. That was another thing he noticed. Why wasn't there any smoke-

*COUGH*

*COUGH COUGH*

A cloud of darkness and heat suddenly covered the cart, blanketing the entire thing, including Tang. He ducked his head as he coughed violently, the smoke worming its way into his lungs. It was overwhelming, making his eyes water as he tried to breathe despite the black cloud of crap and the… smell of blood and burning flesh.

He covers his mouth with his scarf (which seemed bigger than usual) and shudders in a breath, his body shaking at the sudden onslaught as he quickly looks out to the square, paling at what he found. Smoke now covered the area in a thick smog, enveloping everything in its path. From what he could see through the cloud, the pure destruction had turned to a massacre.

Bodies littered the area, some caught under rubble while others bled out on the street. The smell was all too like the one he remembered, scarily so. He was glad the smoke only allowed him to see their silhouettes; he didn't know what he'd do if he recognized the tatters of clothing on the most likely charred remains.

A sudden bump in the cart made him jump and shook him back to the present. It was almost like the cart sunk into the thing blocking the road, a wet squelch sounding as they passed… I don't want to think about what that was.

He breathed slowly through his scarf, trying to reason with himself. It's not real. He thinks. I know that. It's just another one of my horrible, stress induced nightmares due to the stupid military, this stupid town, and it's STUPID WAR with whatever attacked us on the road.

But the smell of rot, burnt flesh, and blood still invaded his senses. He screamed into his scarf.

Readjusting, by then he had realized the cart was going in circles around the oddly-intact fountain in the center covered in blood and ash. Looking ahead, pulling the cart was a seemingly normal brown horse, weirdly unaffected compared to its surroundings.

Looking closer while leaning over the cart to put a hand on its back, he noticed that it wasn't blinking, and he couldn't feel it breathing, either-

A strong gust of wind pushed him back onto the cart, the smoke coalescing around him in a whirlwind of black. His scarf was blown askew as he coughed violently on the floor, eyes watering as he struggled against the wind's current.

When it finally dissipated away from the cart, Tang shoved his scarf back into his face and gulped in giant breaths of (slightly) cleaner air as he sat up.

The cart jolting to a stop brought him back to the moment as he stumbled forward, the horse coughing something horrible as it tried to keep walking, stumbling over every piece of… debris thrown into the road. The sounds of it heaving and coughing were deeply disturbing as it basically echoed through the still, gorey setting.

Tang rushed to set it free of the restraints, struggling against the thick clouds of smoke even with his scarf over his face again. He tried to find a latch, knot, anything to undo the reins trapping the poor creature here, but he couldn't find anything before the horse collapsed onto the ground.

The cart toppled with it, leaning dangerously to one side as he let out a muffled yelp in surprise, gripping the sides of the cart for dear life. He was thrown onto the road, landing on top of stray pieces of wood and stone that dug into his side.

He groaned painfully as he got to his feet. Standing on solid ground again, he noticed how his sleeves seemed longer than usual and how baggy his pants and robe had become, bunching near his loose shoes. He tripped over the fabric more than once as he dragged himself back to where the horse played on the ground, motionless.

He grimaced at the sight as he crouched down next to its head. One hand held his scarf to his face while the other hand reached out to its face, closing its eyes to offer some sort of peace. “I’m sorry.” he mumbled, the odd sense of deja vu he got slipping away as he noticed how scratchy his voice had become from the smoke and how it sounded oddly squeaky.

His eyes scrunched together in confusion, a hand reaching towards his throat. “What was that?” His voice stayed weird, still high, still younger sounding than what it should be.

He stood up, away from where the horse now lied. He walked and walked, ignoring the scent of ash, smoke, and blood as he tried to find a building with at least half of its walls and windows still intact, preferably vacant of any… former inhabitants.

Gravel and chunks of wood caved under his feet, the black flats he usually wore not doing him any favors in terms of padding, especially now that they were a size too big. The warmth of the fires around him licked at his heels and bare skin, similar to holding a fresh bowl of noodles at Pigsy's with your bare hands; nothing too bad, but you know it could become worse if you slipped up.

He's only done it once, spill a bowl of noodles, but the skin on his hand was raw for weeks, leaving him unable to write for the entire duration it was healing. This was incredibly inconvenient as this was when he had started college in Megatropolis, and Pigsy had scoffed every time he came in after class and whined about the injury, calling him a clumsy fool with his head stuck in the clouds.

Pigsy did end up leaving him some fresh bandages and burn cream one night, when the pain started to worsen along with the swelling. He had teased the chef for it, obviously, but he doesn't remember exactly what he said. All he does remember is how red in the face Pigsy had gotten, embarrassed out of his mind as he grumbled all the way back to the kitchen.

The pain didn't seem so bad with him around.

However, this warmth around him now wasn't as comforting.

A small glint of light drew his attention. Tilting his head, he could see it was a shattered mirror lying on the floor. It was inside of a collapsed bakery, counters, chairs, and ovens crumbled and covered in ash. The sight of it sent a pang of hurt to his chest, but he ignored it in favor of getting closer.

Stepping over crumbling bricks and splintered planks, he slowly approached the smoldering shell of the building, making sure he didn't stumble over the debris or his own clothing. As he got up to what used to be the doorway, he silently peered inside, making sure that there wasn't anything lingering in there.

He let out a sigh of relief when he saw nothing moving, carefully stepping in through the rough entrance. The edges of his robe caught onto some bent supports stuck into the ground, not letting him get even a step into the place before he fell forward onto his left shoulder.

Tang sighed heavily into the floor. This is starting to get old. Fast. He thought, rolling to his back onto a decently clear area of the ground. He absently looked through the non-existent ceiling as he rubbed his shoulder, seeing how smoke and ash rose into the air and disappeared into the clouds, fire glowing through the gray in hues of orange and yellow.

Tilting his head to the right, he saw what he had come in here for. It was a long, oval-shaped mirror lying directly under the center of the hole in the roof, probably falling from the bakery's second floor. It was cracked and shattered in many places, covered in large amounts of ash; however, the beautiful frame remained intact.

Before getting up and getting closer, Tang sat up and looked around the bakery more thoroughly. It had only taken one blow, the giant hole above and the small crater in the floor being the only evidence of violence proving it. He saw other items in the crater as well, peering into its depths.

A broken plant vase with burnt flowers, some trophies melted and mangled beyond recognition, pieces of clothing that might have been matching aprons at some point, and some picture frames that weren't so lucky as the mirror, with most of the frames, glass, and pictures themselves being shattered or ripped to shreds.

He slowly dragged himself over to the crater, lowering himself about a foot as he carefully avoided broken glass and the like. Despite how careful he was, however, he still managed to accidentally knee one of the broken picture frames, letting out a hiss. The glass and splinters thankfully didn't cut through the fabric, though.

Sitting back and dusting off his knee of stray grime, he looked down at what he had hit. It was a family photo, parents standing behind the kids where everyone was smiling at the camera wearing matching uniforms that seemed familiar.

He picked the photo up, brushing away the layers of ash that covered it. The old couple seemed distant, eyes clouded with other worries and thoughts with polite smiles gracing their faces. Their hair had Grey streaks, yet was well handled with a bun or a ponytail.

The eldest child, or just the tallest one, stood next to the father; a small turn of the lips is all that's given to the camera, sharp eyes crinkled, annoyed with the activity perhaps. His hair was neat, almost too neat for a child his age, probably around 16 if he had to guess.

The kid standing in front of him was most likely the youngest due to how he stood a foot shorter than any of the other people in the picture. His smile was wide and unwavering towards the camera, some missing teeth becoming noticeable.

Then the kid on the left, the only girl, stood next to the mother, no more than 15. He noticed her eyes first, hazel irises glinting with mirth at the camera as long black hair framed her face-

*CRUNCH*

The photo was crushed in his hands. He balled it up violently, throwing it towards whoever knows where. I got distracted. This is just a dream.

He sighed heavily, focussing back on what he came here for. The mirror was propped up on the crater's slope, covered in ash that he quickly swiped off, slanted not enough for a full body view but enough to see his top half when he stood up.

What he noticed first was how skinny he looked, like he was drowning in his own clothes. That wasn't surprising, but what was was that all his wrinkles were now replaced with baby fat, his hair now infinitely shorter as well.

He raised a hand to his face in shock, feeling to see if that was what he really looked like. He was a teenager again. His age back when this all happened. Back when he couldn't fight back. Back when he wasn't strong enough to protect his friends.

He didn't like that he looked like this again.

Leaning closer, he saw the bags under his eyes he still had today. That never changed, he supposed. The cracks distorted the image, though, with parts of him in all different sections of the broken mirror. He remembered when he broke his own mirror in a fit of frustration, back when he was still in Megatropolis.

That time seemed forever ago, when he sat still and carefully plucked all those shards from his knuckles. He had hit it square in the center, cracks forming and crumbling outward from his weak punch, but this mirror seemed to have a different start.

Trailing the lines of the mirror with his eyes to look for the source, he saw that the cracks led to a small hole in the mirror made by blunt force, maybe from a piece of wood or brick, making a focal point that landed perfectly on Tang’s reflection, right above his heart.

He supposed it was poetic in some way he couldn't think of, mind hazy from the carnage and smoke surrounding everything around him.

However, the little introspection didn't last long. He heard the walls creak eerily before he even knew what was going on, ash displacing from the remains of the higher floor as it started to tilt inwards. His breath caught in his throat as he slowly looked up at what could only be described as something utterly, completely, horrifying.

A figure was suspended in the air, obscured by clouds and clouds of smoke and fire that seemed to wrap around its very being. The only thing visible through the whirling grey and orange was its piercing white eyes as it stared him down through the rubble.

The supports around him creaked in displeasure as the whirlwind around it kicked up, consuming more and more smoke, ash, and blood from the surrounding area. Dust, grime, anything light enough was picked up soon enough, either crumbled or burnt to complete ashes as it joined the tornado above.

The smell of burnt flesh and blood had gotten so much worse, causing him to gag and cough even through the scarf. It got so bad that he had to fall to his knees, letting go of his scarf as he kept dry heaving into the crater now empty of any personal belongings. Only the ashes remained constant, whirling around him with the smoke only making his coughing worse.

The wind howled in his ears, thrashing his loose clothes every which way and deafening his senses. His throat felt like it was on fire, ashes and particles tearing the soft tissue apart in every breath. He had started to choke at one point, his hands clawing at his throat in a pathetic display of helplessness.

Those eyes never left him once. Staring and staring and staring and staring as he faded more and more. Never moving, never talking, never blinking. Tears fell from his eyes in waves, the droplets barely making it an inch before the winds took it away as well.

He was dying. This is what dying felt like. A slow, painful way to go in his memories. He didn't remember this. He was never near the demon who did it. This never happened.

That’s what he thought.

The pain was too real, too specific to be something his brain made up for no purpose, the feeling too familiar to discard as just another part of a wacky nightmare. The surrounding building cracking and crumbling to the clouds of smoke becoming a fixture in his brain as he trembled on the floor barely conscious as the last bit of restraint was pulled away.

Pieces of drywall, brick, and ash came down all at once. Tang closed his eyes as he trembled on the floor. The first time this happened, dread, fear, and helplessness had engulfed him, Allan’s determination being the only thing pulling him through that mess. The second time, he had Cian for support, a voice grounding him to the situation at hand so he could get his ass out of it in one piece with Zach.

Now, though, he only had himself: his weak, cowardly, pathetic self, and wasn't that just a terrifying, dreadful thought to have? That without anyone else to lean on, to rely on, to leech off of, he'd be left for dead even in his own head?

The building collapsed inward over its own weight.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tang woke up with a start, an awful crick in his neck making itself known as well. He gulped in the air greedily as he reached a hand up to his throat on instinct. His throat was completely fine, no burning sensations to be felt as he kept breathing heavily.

However, he did feel stretches of raw, tender skin over his neck. Feeling a hand over his neck, it was most likely scratch marks from how thin the marks were, how they slightly burned, and how he could see some redness under his own fingernails, too. Did I do that in my sleep? That seems a bit concerning…

A smack on the side of the truck spooked him out of his stupor, making him jump in surprise and turn towards the noise. “Heya, sleeping beauty! Finally awake?” Rick jokes, leaning on the side of the truck with a piece of rope hanging over his shoulder.

Tang just blinked slowly in response, unsure of what to say. Before he could reply, however, Harrison came up to the other side of the truck with a clipboard, glaring across the vehicle towards the other.

“Step away from my assignment, Rick. I need to give instructions and you can socialize all you like after your head dismisses you back to your tent. Glasses, come with me.” He said curtly, turning away from the truck and starting towards a small tent on the outskirts of what used to be a city if Tang had to guess.

All that was left was scorch marks and rubble, he's guessing something caused by explosives based on the earlier conversation in the medical tent.

Rick rolled his eyes dramatically before walking off with a wave in Tang's general direction. Tang could only huff at the antics before scrambling to get out of the truck and running as fast as he could to catch up with Harrison.

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[justanotherblogger]

A World Without Him

Chapter 22

His dream held nothing memorable. The black void had apparently lost its novelty after being dragged into its depths so many times before. Tang's expression held only annoyance as his body spinned and glided through the never-ending darkness.

He didn't want to deal with what he knew would come next. The hands, the voices, the damned buzzing that came in recently.

What he wanted right now was one of those phantom things to appear in front of him, actually consider him a person worth talking to, and answer his questions.

To tell him what this void was even for, how they had access to his head since he knows the reoccurring nightmares and chatter wasn't formed from his mind alone, no matter how those things try to gaslight him into convincing himself overwise.

However, he also knew nothing would come from screaming at the void or cursing these stupid voices out in every curse word he knew, dead languages included. Maybe some of them would understand; he saw the old style of clothing the two spirits had when they showed up at the infirmary.

But it's not like they would talk to him of their own accord (besides Cian, but that thing comes and goes as it pleases and only talks to him when it's amused or wants something. It's a wildcard he doesn't want to think of the implications of), those two he saw were freaking out when he just looked at them.

From the urgency in their voices, Tang doesn't think he has a good chance at a one on one like that again, especially not here.

So, he chose to do the only thing he could: wait, like almost every time before. He crossed his arms, folded his legs, and sat still, eyes closed as the void suddenly reacted to his choice.

It seemed to come alive as he relaxed into its atmosphere, accepting him into its domain. He swore he could feel tendrils of unseen energy suddenly coil and bend around him, letting themselves be seen for the first time. He could sense it slow and accelerate based on unknown variables, how it had potential, how it could be something more if someone just gave its power shape.

It was overwhelming, yet not unfamiliar, like an overenthusiastic relative hugging you a bit too tight. But when he opened his eyes again, everything suddenly stilled, only pitch black as far as he could see.

It was silent, empty, yet again. Tang didn't know what that could mean, or even what that rush before was, but he wanted to figure at least one thing about this place out.

And because of that, he closed his eyes, ignored the warning signs, and tried to coax the energy back out. He sat in silence for a good while, waiting for the familiar energy to return.

Nothing happened for a good while. No spikes in the atmosphere, no familiar feelings, and there weren't even the usual voices or hands crowding his space. It was just quiet. He didn't move to open his eyes, though, as he liked the peace and wanted to stay a bit longer, even with a small bit of paranoia in the back of his mind saying the nightmare would begin sooner or later.

So, he focussed on what he could feel. His hair swayed behind him in the low gravity, stray wisps tickling his neck as the strands went every-which-way. He could feel his clothes do the same, the soft fabric of his sleeves and the ends of his robe billowing away from him…

...My robe?

He slowly opened his eyes once again, looking down at his body. He was no longer in the drab uniform he was given at the sleeping quarters, but instead he was back in his old red, white, and gold outfit.

The fabric seemed brand new as he took a piece between his fingers, nothing like the worn threads of his actual outfit. His shoes, scarf, and gloves were absent, though, while he still had long white socks under his maroon pants.

He calmly unwound his legs, letting them dangle in front of him. Looking closely at the fabric, he could see a small, almost unnoticeable orange sheen over the clothing. Frowning, he lifted his hands to his face seeing the same sheen over his hands, sleeves, and… the bell.

It seems like this piece of shit followed me in here. He thought bitterly, scowling at the bracelet hanging off his wrist. He raised a hand to his hair, running his fingers through the strands.

He still wasn't exactly used to the length, having had short hair for a good decade before it started growing dramatically after LBD. His hand kept trailing through the strands, ending at the middle of his back. And even before then, he'd never had it this long.

He fidgeted with the ends of his hair, lost in thought. He noticed some pieces had become lighter than the others, similar to the highlights he'd seen in Mei's signature hairstyle. However, his were closer to ashy blond than neon green.

Tang wonders if the color was natural. It fits her family’s theme, the whole white, green, and gold palette, so maybe she did it as some self expression while also sticking to her family's rules. She’s also a descendant of the Dragon of the West, so he supposes it's possible to get it naturally from those mythical being genes.

If… when he goes back to Megatropolis, he'll have to ask her himself.

He let go of the strands he was fidgeting with, letting them float in place as he sighed into his palms. Taking his head out of his hands, he glanced around the void once more, trying to see if anything changed while he was stuck in his head. The scholar couldn't see anything different, so he sunk back into himself and crossed his arms with a huff.

He wonders if the voices are gone now, stuck somewhere, unable to interact with him anymore. He saw how panicked they were in the medical tent, and he hasn't been able to hear from any other voices like them afterwards. He wonders if Cian was the person they were talking about, how someone should have blocked the connections from them? The details were fuzzy.

Still, he remembered the clear fear on their faces, how they couldn't let him die just yet. He's supposed to stay away from Cian and the monastery apparently, and Tang is more than happy to avoid both if he could. He could feel it in his gut that interacting with either of those options would not result in something good.

It's not like he can do much else at this point. His bag had most likely been confiscated by those military officials while he was unconscious, so most of that supplies is stuff he's never getting back. He groaned at the thought. All of that work is just gone in the wind now.

He misses his journal the most. All the little notes and scribbles he makes help him to focus, and reading back on them helps keep the memories fresh. Most of the stuff he writes is just about the legends and Monkie Kid's adventures, though, as he likes to portray them on paper the most.

Speaking of the legends, he wonders what is exactly going on with these spirits. The scholar doesn't remember hearing of ghosts matching the descriptions of the spirits he'd seen in any of the myths he's read, and since he is a Certified Scholar Spectacular (name given to him from a 9 year old Mk with a paper badge to match. He kept it in his journal as a bookmark. He really wants that journal back now), he knows that they've never shown up in one.

He thinks they're somehow related to the Golden Cicada and the Great Monk, with the obvious gold and orange colors along with the multiple cicadas popping up in most of his dreams. He just doesn't know how that connects with the rest of the information he’s gotten.

Flickers of memories play in his head as he tries to think of anything tying these things together. Cian had called his visions flares, and that it had his powers before him. If Cian was anything like the other voices, did that mean those two spirits also had powers like his before, too?

How do his powers work in the first place, anyways? How can they be passed down from (most likely) the Great Monk if he had already ascended like in JTTW, and had no possibility of reincarnation?

He rubs the back of his neck, lost in thought. Maybe Cian had lied to him at some point, about anything really, but then how were those voices from the medical tent related?

The truth is, Tang doesn't know.

The declaration hurts his soul, but it's true. He can't link these things to anything he's seen before. Everything is too foreign, too unpredictable where he can't wrap his head around all the stuff piling over one another.

He hates the feeling: being in the dark, not knowing what he's really dealing with. He prides himself on his knowledge, his ingenuity, as it's the only thing that really sets him apart from his friends.

So when that gets taken away from him, he's left scrambling, making situations worse than they already were in an attempt to make them better.

His teeth grind together as his hands grow tight on his arms, the unpleasant thought wriggling under his skin. Maybe I shouldn't have stayed here for so long. Nothing good has come out of this place so far, anyways. He thinks, looking out into the unchanging darkness; it's still empty.

He didn't know what he was expecting.

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[justanotherblogger]

A World Without Him

Chapter 21

Tang only got a few seconds to process what exactly he was stuck with before he was hauled up by the back of his uniform shirt and onto his feet. He stumbled forward at the sudden force, broken glass crunching beneath his feet.

The scholar blinked indignantly at the rough handling, but he couldn't even get a huff of displeasure in before the soldier was already walking out of the curtained area and gunning for the front exit. Tang couldn't hide his annoyance as he groaned loudly into his hands and started to go after the guy, wiping his face with his sleeve while he tried to follow.

Every one of his steps crunched on the stone floor, somehow powering over all the other noises in the medical tent as he tried to pursue the guy, glass shards almost definitely embedded into the soles of his boots now.

It was uncomfortable, but the growing sense of exhaustion quickly drew more attention. He’d already been drained from that ghost intervention, but he didn't realize how badly he was affected until he couldn’t even take two steps without his lungs burning up. Tang knew that this was a losing battle.

He leaned on one of the empty beds when his head started pounding and looked ahead with bleary eyes. Squinting, he only saw a glimpse of how the soldier seamlessly passed by the staff and wandering patients, seemingly dead focussed on getting out as fast as possible with practiced ease.

The scholar could only grit his teeth as he pushed himself back onto his feet as the body's silhouette got smaller and smaller. As he tried to move forward, his body became more slow and lethargic; he felt disconnected to his limbs, almost numb.

I guess there just had to be side effects for anything giving me a boon here. He thought bitterly, pushing himself forward. He could barely keep the guy in focus as he was already so far ahead while he tried to dodge and swerve to get to the exit himself, noticing the feeling was achingly similar to the streets back in Megatropolis.

Pushing the small feeling to the back of his mind, Tang saw that the soldier was no longer in his line of sight, most likely frolicking outside in the grass while getting further and further away from his tag-along.

Tang clenched his fists at the thought and if you were to ask anyone in the vicinity, they would have said that smoke was billowing out of his ears. Tang silently prayed that he would make the trip to wherever he's being forced without his legs giving up and moving to the Bahamas because of unsafe working conditions.

He huffed a bit at the thought as his legs started to twinge even worse, almost as if they were dignifying his thoughts with a response. Tang just frowned, pushing himself past one more staff member before he was finally in front of the exit. He took no hesitation in pushing the tent flap open and stepping outside, the dirt cushioning the glass in his soles.

A breeze kicked up at his exit, blowing wisps of hair behind him as he quickly walked a few feet before plopping himself down onto the ground, relishing in the feeling of his legs not giving in their two weeks notice. This, along with the nostalgic feeling of grass swaying in the wind, helped him relax.

He squinted up at the darkening sky af6er a moment, seeing how rish blue started to fade into vibrant hues of magenta and navy. As the sun was no longer visible beyond the treeline, electric torches started being lit all across the clearing pathways, giving everything a soft yellow glow as the area began to darken.

Tang just sat still at the view, taking in the scenery as fragments of memories flooded into his mind. A glance at the willow tree showed its hanging branches swaying in the wind, a single torch laying under it for some light amongst the grass. He put his elbow onto his knee and leaned into his hand for a better position, even if he knew there was nothing stopping the pain he would feel from his hunched position.

Behind him, a surprisingly soft voice knocked him out of his trance. “It's almost beautiful by itself, isn't it? If you can ignore the lake filled with mush and the tents covering every inch of solid ground with patrolling officers.”

Tang sucked in a breath and snapped his head to the voice, half-expecting it to have come from his own head and for nothing to be behind him. Instead, he saw Harrison leaning against the monastery wall, a blank look in his eyes as he looked over the clearing.

Tang didn't know how to react, giving the guy a blank stare as he tried reasoning in his head. Did he wait for me here? I thought he really didn't like me. That’s surprisingly nice considering he looked seconds away from maiming someone a couple of minutes ago…

He didn't know what to respond with, only opening and closing his mouth as no words actually came out. He eventually decided not to say anything and looked back towards the clearing, his eyes trailing back to the willow tree. He heard footsteps approaching after a minute, stopping right next to him as Harrison spoke up yet again.

“We need to get moving. Make sure to keep up this time.” He mumbled, reaching a hand down for Tang to grab. The scholar hesitated for a moment before grabbing the offered hand and being hoisted up again, much more smooth and comfortable than the first time.

Harrison quickly let go as Tang got to his feet, brushing past him and heading towards the dirt stairs now illuminated with torch light. The scholar blew a piece of hair out of his face before following right behind, his hands unconsciously starting to fidget with the bell on his wrist.

He tried his best to keep close behind this time, never letting the guy more than 2 feet away from him lest he lose his next guide and get lost in the labyrinth of white fabric. He did trip more than once on the uneven ground trying to keep up, but if Harrison noticed it, he didn't care to mention it as he only kept his head forward.

As the walk went on, the talk with those voices(? Spirits? Ghosts? He didn't exactly know what they were still) pushed to the front of his mind as he got more used to the white noise of the camp, replaying the conversation over and over as he tried to find anything useful he didn't already know.

All he could remember in detail was not to go to the Monastery, avoid Cian as much as he could, and basically nothing else. He frowns at the memory, millions of questions flying through his mind at what was going on.

He did know they had some sort of master, though, maybe a higher up who also put them in charge of watching over him. But why did he need watching over in the first place? (The job itself seemed like a punishment, though, considering those voices were obviously displeased with the work.) What deities are they most likely working with, and who exactly is the master they were referring to?

He doesn't have much to go on. Maybe that's the point, though, as those beings seemed shocked that he could hear and see them while all the info they did reveal was mostly slipped out by the younger looking one in a panic.

The more he tries to think about those things, his powers, Cian’s whole deal, and the apparent upcoming demonic war going on at his hometown if the vague (and straight up) threats from human military with whole towns being blown up are anything to go by… he really just wants to go back to Megatropolis, sit down at Pigsy’s and talk that grumpy cook’s ear off with Sandy, Mei, and Mk while scarfing as many noodles as he can down his throat.

However, he knows he needed to go somewhere other than there; that staying any longer would either break him, or cause trouble to the people around him. He knows what's been going on is most likely highly dangerous with the burn marks, strange dreams, and magic voices floating around his head among other (terrible) things giving some indicators.

He really wishes that it could all go away, that one morning the voices, dreams, and stupid bell would all just disappear. But it can't, not really, unless Mk's mentor has been storing up some magical cure or curse that could cancel out the presumed magic in that cave somewhere.

He wishes that he could go straight to his friends, ask for help, get all the support he could ever want, and end up ok. But it's not like that would happen. They would definitely try to help, of course, they're his friends. However, what could they really do for this? What could they do for the voices? The outbursts? He doesn't even recognize what's happening himself, and he's the certified scholar of the group who's read every legend and story he could get his hands on!

Another problem is that he still doesn't know the extent of how bad his magical episodes can get, if he can even control them, if he could stop them from happening, if he could actually hurt his friends during one of them.

Mk would probably be alright, he's got a good amount of Monkey King's powers with decent durability and is on an all time high right now after LBD got put into the ground. But he can't exactly be that sure for the others, or the city, for that matter.

He remembered what happened during one of his episodes, the foggy memory bubbling to the surface; glass scattered all over the streets and sidewalks. The shards silently crashed onto the unforgiving floor. Did anyone get hurt from that? Did that actually happen?

Tang couldn't remember. No faces came to mind, no news report on the TV or gossip overheard on the street were talking about it. But he can't be too sure, as almost everything after the Megatropolis Library fell was shaky at best and he wasn't exactly focussing on his surroundings.

The Library still hangs heavy in his mind. The screams, the crumbling ceiling, Allan, the poor kid, Mk… he still doesn't know exactly how to feel about that, either. He's seen Mk be reckless before. Hell, he's seen entire buildings go up in smoke trying to destroy one villain, but he never batted an eye. Never really thought about the “collateral damage”.

Until he experienced it. The fear, not even from the fight itself, but from the careless swings that could send tons of rubble towards them at any moment. The fighting style solely focussed on the opponent, uncaring if the missed shots or flying bodies caused damage to the city as long as the enemy stayed down.

That was something so different from the fear he's experienced before. Something so different compared to facing a common foe. Those are straight up. You know what you're getting into, that these guys will try and take you down however they see fit. You know they're trying to stop you, that you have to stop them in turn. You can run, hide, fight, do whatever in combat, adrenaline keeping you standing until you can get away or win at least.

But that moment in the library was something so raw, from not knowing what could happen next, that powers beyond your control could send something crashing down at you at any second, and you couldn't do anything to stop it. That powerlessness, that feeling of dread growing bigger and bigger every time a piece of the ceiling or wall crashed to the ground, was eating him alive from the inside out.

Tang wouldn't want that to happen again, especially not because of him. That was a big factor in why he left, the faint feeling of hopelessness eating at his insides when he's alone with his thoughts for too long.

He frowns at the depressing thoughts, feeling his eyes start to burn again. He knows he should take more time to take these thoughts in, to take them seriously and pick them apart, but he's not exactly in the right environment to do so at the moment as he looks up and notices they’re nearing the edge of the clearing.

He rubs his eyes before focussing back into his surroundings. The glass in his soles still grate onto the floor uncomfortably, but it's lessened by the softer dirt path he's currently walking on. Looking past Harrison, Tang can make out a few vehicles lined up next to each other, most likely trucks based on the cargo beds full of people in each of them.

When they finally get close enough, Harrison leads him to a half empty truck and gestures half-heartedly for him to get in. He walks away quickly after and starts to talk with a different soldier in the driver's seat of the first truck, leaving Tang to awkwardly hoist himself up and onto the cargo bed.

He doesn't recognize anyone in the truck, and he’s silently grateful for that as he doesn't think he can take any social interaction at this point in time. He sits down a decent amount away from the other passengers as he sags in relief at finally getting a longer break.

He does jump slightly as the tailgate of his truck gets slammed shut almost immediately after he gets comfortable, but he quickly relaxes again from the utter exhaustion creeping back into his body.

As the trucks get started and slowly start moving forward, Tang can barely keep his eyes open any longer as he starts to succumb to his fatigue. His eyelids droop as he lazily watches the trees swish by and the torches from the clearing get duller and duller until they're fully covered by the foliage.

He wraps his arms around himself as the breeze comes by again, causing a chill to run up his spine. But that's not enough to stop his eyelids from closing completely and his mind to finally take a rest from the day's events, drawing him into a deep, deep slumber as more trees roll on by, branches and leaves shaking in the wind almost like a lullaby.

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[justanotherblogger]

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[justanotherblogger]

We’re just one step away from achieving our goal—only $218 separates us from raising the $10000 needed to bring stability to our family. 🌿💞

This campaign isn’t just about numbers; it’s about providing hope and a future after the hardships of displacement. 🛤️🌟

Your generosity has brought us this far, and we’re so close to the finish line. 🕊️

Let’s make this dream a reality together. 🤲💖

Be the difference today. 🌟 Even the smallest contribution can help us reach our goal. Donate now:

https://gofund.me/abbc2759

[justanotherblogger]

Hello🤗❤️

I hope you are well🌹

Can you help me get my voice heard

and share my family's story?🙏🏻

Can you Reblog my post from my blog?

By helping to reblog my story, you could

save a family from death and war.🌹

Thank you very much🌸

🕊️❤️🌹🙏🏻

[justanotherblogger]

Hello, I am Tareq from Gaza Iam trying save my family from the genocide happening here. I ask for your help in spreading my story and donating if you can contribute anything, no matter how small.Please don,t forget to sharethe latest post from my page and follow my account to help spread the story to the world. Thank you.

[justanotherblogger]

A World Without Him

Chapter 20

They stared. Stared and stared and stared and stared. They seemed frozen in shock, almost as if they had finally succumbed to the surrounding area's influence.

Tang didn't know what to do. Should he run? Shout? Try to blink this place away like it came to him in the first place? He didn't know. He couldn't figure out what to do. He should know what to do. But he didn't know anything.

What are they gonna do to me!? Oh my god oh my god oh mY GOD OH MY GOD- Can they touch me, take over me, KILL me?! AUUUUGH, I DON'T KNOW!

Cold sweat dripped down his neck, seemingly unaffected by the area as Tang took in short, raspy breaths. His throat felt as if it were on fire, and his eyelids begged him to shut, but he couldn't risk moving. He didn't want to trigger a response from whatever these things were. He didn't know what they could do.

This silent stand-off only continued. No one moved for what seemed like an eternity, the surroundings actually showing change from how long this had gone on for. The curtains parting behind the figures as a small syringe fell through a gap, slowly falling towards the hard, unforgiving floor.

Yet Tang stayed still, meeting the harsh gazes as if he was worried they would disappear out of view with the slightest coverage. His body started to shake as his hands gripped together so tight he would have been worried for blocked blood flow if not for this staring contest. The pain kept him focussed.

The syringe continued its descent as Tang started to waver. His jaw clenched as he tried to stay focussed, keeping him from changing the scene once again. His eyelids still started to fall, though, slowly encompassing more and more of his vision until he could no longer hold out. He was only human, after all.

As soon as he closed his eyes he shot them open once again, scared out of his mind now that the figures were out of his sight. The figures were gone, leaving empty air in their wake. His eyes immediately locked onto the syringe that kept its descent, still falling ever so slowly.

He wasn't out of the clear yet.

His breathing became more exasperated and frustrated as his eyes scoured the room, trying to find where those bastards hid now. He started standing up when his eyes failed him, his eyebrows pinching together in stressed concentration.

This finally brought them back out. Orange suddenly filled his vision as he tried to stand up, causing him to yelp and fall back into his chair. His limbs felt heavier than before, but he was too focussed on the blaring face of fear in front of him as the syringe continued to fall indoors the commotion.

“Oh fuck, he can definitely see us. Do you know what this means!? HE, CAN, SEE, US. That means our predictions all came to shit, and we wasted our time out here for all those years we could've been- UGHHHHH, we are so FUCKED when the Master hears of this!”

The face turned back and forth from focussing on Tang to focussing on the other figure, getting more hysterical as its mouth kept pouring out nonsense.

What are they going on about!? Masters, predictions, what even are these guys!?

However, through the sporadic jumble coming from the first one to the concerned expression on the other, they didn't seem hostile. They brought an odd sense of warmth now that they're closer to him. Tang was still weary, though, so he continued to stay put on his chair and tried to make out what this thing was saying. The syringe spun and flipped through the air, now only a foot above the ground as it seemed to fall faster.

“... and we thought the first time he was taken over that he had no aptitude! Master had to guide this doormat himself to even defeat that ice queen bitch, and even then it was just a combination circle! Is this why that bastard in the Between wanted this guy so badly!? What should we even do-”

“SHUT YOUR MOUTH. He isn't deaf, you know!” The older one shouted suddenly as he gestured to Tang, causing them both to look back at him while the poor scholar froze on the spot. “Now stop that running river of a mouth, and let's fix our mistakes. It clearly doesn't have a strong hold over him yet since he can see us now. You.” He suddenly addressed, looking at Tang with conviction as he pointed a finger straight to his face.

The scholar’s brows pinched together in worry. “Me???” He answered hysterically. The older figure moved quickly to crouch face to face with Tang. “We don't have much time here. I can't explain everything going on inside your head,” He started, quickly pointing at Tang’s forehead with a bony finger.

In the scholar’s peripheral vision, the blacks and whites started to fade, leaving small amounts of color. That can't be good. “But you must know that Thing that you're bound with cannot be trusted. It takes, it harms, it consumes everything it can get ahold of. We've had many like you before, trying to harness its power for mortal gain, but it never ends well.”

The tattered clothing of the older figure suddenly rammed into Tang's mind again, how this figure seemed to have almost been torn completely apart, similar to the cracks throughout the skin of the other figure.

“You must stay awake for all of our sakes. Don't let that menace back into your body, no matter what hellscape you might find yourself in.” It had a look of pure rage as it spat the warnings out, this emotion being the most prominent that Tang’s seen of it this entire time. The syringe is only a few inches off the ground, the blue liquid contained within it gaining back its hue.

“Don't let that thing manipulate you, control you, TALK TO YOU.” The other interjected, pushing the older one aside as the surroundings started to gain color rapidly.

“You need to make sure that it doesn't sink its teeth into you further.”

Indignation filled Tang as these warnings only gave more questions, more of the unknown that he couldn't predict. “THEN WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO NOW?! YOU SAID I'M STUCK WITH IT BUT WHAT DOES THAT MEAN!? HOW DO I GET IT TO GO AWAY!? IS IT THIS STUPID SCRAP OF METAL?!” He stands up harshly, waving the wrist with the bell in front of the figure's faces. The syringe falls and falls and falls as Tang’s legs refuse to cooperate, buckling underneath him.

“No, no, NO. We need more time-”

“Stay in the village and avoid the monastery at all costs! WE NEED YOU ALIVE-”

*CRASH*

The syringe connects with the floor as Tang hits the ground, pieces of glass quickly covering the ground. He looks up wildly, seeing all the eyes look towards his hunched figure. Red Hair is back in her seat, her clipboard nowhere in sight as Manex hovers over his form from behind.

His eyes water so much that streaks flow down his face in waves, his knees aching from the collapse as his ears ring from the sudden influx of sounds. Through blurry vision, Tang sees Zach asleep in the bed. A voice knocks him back into this reality.

“Why is the staff rushing outside?” The old man asks, slowly standing up and pushing the glass shards away with his cane without a care as he looks outside. Manex quickly walks up to join him, having to dodge another staff member when he barreled out of the tent with numbers of supplies in his arms.

Now that Tang is focussing again, he hears shouting all across the tent from medical staff, heavy footsteps drowning out most of the current patients groans or cries. Aggressive Guy shoots his head up with a concerned look, a hand hovering over his M17 pistol cautiously while Red Hair does the same.

One staff member slowed down in front of the tent after a few more ran out in a panic, focussing only on the old man. Fear was clearly painted on her face. “A second surprise attack was issued after the initial attack on the Waning District which took out most of the cleaners and remaining soldiers on site. We need all hands on deck as there may be even more casualties under the rubble that the cleaners hadn't gotten to yet.”

She gave a slight bow of her head before she rushed off with the others. Manex bit her lip as the old man sighed. “Why can't they just let us have this? What more can they take from me?” He leans on his cane and rubs his nose bridge in frustration.

Red Hair and Aggressive Guy both stand up quickly, their stature secure and ready for orders. “Harrison and Smith, you both go and survey the damage while protecting the medical staff and remaining cleaners from anymore attacks. Manex, you come with me to the HHC.”

The old man then looks down at Tang’s pitiful form, a cold and curious look crossing over his face as he narrows his eyes. “And you, lucky prisoner, will join the cleanup mission. They may need someone to look out for triggers, be an extra pair of hands, or scream when the next attack might come. Now go along with Harrison. I promise he doesn't bite. Much.”

The old man then exited the tent with Manex following close behind and Smith along with them. Now it was only Tang and Harrison still in the room, and this guy's face is the complete opposite of happy. A single tear ran down the scholar’s face. I’m so screwed.

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[justanotherblogger]

My account was banned by tumblr policy and I created a new account and my account is very weak

I have about 10 accounts suspended because Israeli groups have cancelled my campaign. Please donate and help me complete my campaign.

‎‏I ask this with shame: Please donate a small amount that may save my father's life, he needs daily medication worth 55€ and will undergo surgery worth 250€💔, Please don't ignore my message and don't hesitate to help me 🍉

‎‏ Please support me I am facing this alone🙏

🫶🏻💝 I world be very grateful

✅verified by: @gaza-evacuation-funds

[justanotherblogger]

Hi 👋, My name is Mona, and I’m reaching out to you in a moment of dire need. I’m a mother of two young children living in Gaza, caught in the middle of a catastrophic war. Our home is no longer a safe haven, and the future here looks increasingly uncertain. 💔I launched a fundraising campaign with a goal of raising $20,000 to move my family to a safer place where my children can grow up in peace and have a chance at a brighter future. Unfortunately, my previous fundraising efforts were abruptly halted when my account was closed without explanation. However, I remain determined to continue fighting for the safety and well-being of my family. 🫶If you can take a moment to read our story, consider donating, or simply share our campaign with others, it would make an incredible difference. Every act of kindness, no matter how small, brings us one step closer to safety and a new beginning. 🙏Thank you for your time, compassion, and support. ❤️‍🩹https://gofund.me/37eaacd6

[justanotherblogger]

This is me Aya.. ‏🇵🇸

suddenly you wake up with nothing left.That's exactly what happened with us .we moved from having everything to having nothing.In a blink of an eye ,we lost everything, our house ,dreams,

memories belongings and our works. We are starting from zero and need your help to climb the leader step by step from scratch.

All the positive words cannot express how generous you are, especially in sharing my posts to inform other donors about the people of Gaza who are still suffering from the terrible conditions caused by the unjust war on Gaza!

Please continue to support us by donating directly or by sharing the link to let others know. Don't hesitate to help people in difficult and miserable times until the dark days are over. 🙏🏻🍉

https://gofund.me/c4c2cf82

[justanotherblogger]

Hi lm hamdi lam from Gaza.lam a father for 4 children . our first goal is to reach 1,000€ please donate!! . We are still suffering from the effects of war and the loss of everything, This amount is not just a number, but a real opportunity to rebuild our lives and Help me complete my children's education and put a smile back on my children Thanks 🙏🏻

[justanotherblogger]

Dear friends ❤️,

After surviving the devastating war in Gaza, my family and I sought safety in Egypt. While we have moved away from immediate danger, the challenges of life here remain significant. We are struggling to secure rent and daily living expenses.😢

We have decided to open a fundraising link to help secure a safe place for us, a place that will protect us and our children from the harsh conditions. Your donations will serve as a beacon of hope in building a home that provides us with safety and stability.😔🇵🇸

Every contribution, no matter how small, will make a big difference in our lives.🙏🏻

You can contribute via the following link:

https://gofund.me/abbc2759

From the bottom of our hearts, thank you for your support and generosity.🙌🏼❤️‍🩹

[justanotherblogger]

I am Motaz Mohamed ❤ a palestinian youngman from Gaza🍉🇵🇸, seeking to find safety and peace ☝️for my family if twenty members. We have been ❤🇵🇸🍉passing through all forms of torture and pain for almost ten months because of the war on Gaza.

Life is very miserable and tragic❤🇵🇸 as we are now deprived ❤🇵🇸🍉of all means of living. Drink water, healthy food health care and medicine❤🇵🇸 have become things 🇵🇸🍉❤of the past. We are dying dear friends. That is why I am asking you to help us break through this tough situation.Life in hot tents is incredibly sad and miserable. We are now experiencing the worst circumstances we have ever had in our life. The war has stolen happiness and life from us.

Please don't leave us alone in such dire times. Your kind contribution either through donating whatever you can or sharing my posts will be highly appreciated and valued.❤🇵🇸🍉