Second Round, Interrupted

Messenger Yan took a small detour, abandoning her previous destination for the one the Prescripts gave her.

With the cryptic mental instructions, she found herself in the middle of a heavily used trash disposal area.

The stench of decaying flesh and vegetable matter wormed into her nose.

And physical worms too, squirming into her cloak's fabric.

Without hesitation, the girl plunged her arm into the rotting trash.

'Five inches right...' She shifted her hand right. 'Two inches down...' She buried her hand deeper, clawing past the maggots.

A lever filled her palm.

With a twist, an elevator structure silently emerged from the wall beside her.

Yan entered the cubicle. She gripped the protruding handle in the white elevator, adjusting her cloak as she plummeted downward.

In less than a minute, she had descended into one of the countless Index 'safehouses'.

Not a single human being in the City knew exactly how many of these pure-white basements existed across the Sections, or who exactly built them.

The only way to find one was to follow the Index's whispers.

The Messenger soon found what she came here for.

From the plain walls surfaced a door labeled 'Stasis Room'.

She knocked on the door, twice with her palm and thrice with her knuckles, in rapid succession.

Before her fifth knock could land, the door swung open.

...

Esther inhaled.

One hundred thousand.

Then exhaled.

He inhaled.

One hundred thousand and one.

Then exhaled.

In the Stasis Room, all one could do was breathe. Unblinking. He stared at the white ceiling.

In this room, there was no rest.

Despite the fact, one's mind was forcefully activated at all times. Esther had not slept in more than a week.

The Proxy kept track of each breath and each heart contraction with perfect clarity.

Heartbeat, heartbeat. Breath. Heartbeat, heartbeat.

Six hundred thirty thousand, nine hundred and twelve. Six hundred thirty thousand, nine hundred and thirteen. One hundred thousand and two. Six hundred thirty thousand, nine hundred and fourteen. Six hundred thirty thousand, nine hundred and fifteen. One hundred thousand and three...

More time passed.

In this place, external stimuli were nonexistent. Esther hadn't felt, heard, or seen anything in seven days.

Yet his expression was calm, even placid.

Heartbeat, heartbeat. Breath. Heartbeat, heartbeat.

Six hundred forty thousand. Six hundred forty thousand and one. One hundred thousand and fifty-seven. Six hundred forty thousand and two. Six hundred forty thousand and three.

One hundred thousand and fifty-eight.

He sat up.

It was time.

What was the instructions he received again?

/*Wait in the Stasis Room for 100,058 breaths.*/

*Knock Knock*, *Tap Tap T-*

/*Afterwards, open the door before the fifth knock lands.*/

Before the condition was broken, Esther swung the door open.

"Proxy Esther. Your presence has been requested."

The man nodded. He knew.

In front of him was the youngest Messenger in the history of the Middle Sections, Yan Vismok.

Or, by now, Haruko. Her eyes still held that childish light, ones that still saw Esther's feat as impressive.

Surviving the Stasis Room for over a week-

A proper comparison could be made to the process of ascending to a Messenger.

To become an official Messenger, among other things, one had to stay in the Stasis Room for twenty-four hours, tempering their mind with complete emptiness.

But the sheer length of time wasn't the most impressive part of Esther's feat. For the Proxies' training, not only did they stay for longer periods of time, they also had to commit to an inhuman task.

A task that was impossible for just about anyone.

"Six hundred forty thousand and three heartbeats. One hundred thousand and fifty-eight breaths." Esther reported.

Yan bowed.

"16th Dawn Street. A Prescript concerns you there."

Esther did not acknowledge her. He already knew.

Instead, he wordlessly sunk into the ground, disappearing under the white tiles.

Yan listened, silently. To a voice that whispered to her.

"Asher...?"

The Prescripts now directed her to someone she once knew.

To that same street, 16th Dawn.

...

Asher giggled, swinging away from the railing as a glowing fist cut through the pink smokescreen.

Gyeong-mi snarled as his blow shattered the rust-brown railing, missing his true target yet again. His bloodshot eyes reddened as the pollen induced an unbearable, itchy sensation on the moist membranes of his eyes.

"Fuck!" The leader of the Stray Dogs shouted with resentment. The man realized his mistake halfway through, clenching his mouth shut.

Wasting breath in this environment would be a bad idea.

A growl built in his throat as he whirled around. The smoke was unbearable.

'Poison gas...'

With a start, the man realized he had been separated from his comrades. Dino, Zulu, and the others, where were they?

He decided to waste some breath.

"Everyone! Group up here!"

"Gotcha, Boss!" Dino's voice called out from the right, a bit hoarse but otherwise fine.

Zulu, on the other hand let out an anxious, growl.

Then, a scream. A spark of gold flashed from the left side of the smoke, followed by a searing, caustic heat.

Gyeong-mi's heart dropped to the pits of his stomach.

"Zul-"

The smoke was swept away under the deafening explosion. Gyeong-mi could only catch a glimpse of Zulu as Sophie's glowing fist carved into the man's face.

The momentum carried the broken body careening into the darkness of the adjacent alley.

Where the man used to stand were the other three Stray Dogs, deceased on the pavement. A single slice to the neck did them in.

Gyeong-mi's expression fell. Now only him and Dino were left. The man took his five best fighters to face the Chimère Office. Four were dead now.

There was no time to regret the decision.

Dino's tattoos writhed with rage, and sickly black ink dripped to the pavement.

Their roar dug into the street, shaking the buildings from their foundations.

"-YOU FUCKERS!"

Gyeong-mi stomped the ground, shattering the concrete slabs beneath him. With a guttural scream, he uprooted a lamp post from the ground with a single twist of his arm, using it to point at Sophie and Asher, like an oversized sword.

His muscles doubled in size, straining to hold themselves together as the tattoos on his back deepened to pitch black.

Asher glanced at Sophie. They nodded simultaneously. Even Sophie had an energetic, confident twinkle in her eyes, a rarity for the usually emotionless girl.

They both loved a good fight, a trait conditioned into them from their experiences. Fighting, at least for Fixers and Syndicates, was such an integral nature of their being.

To hate the thrill of a fight would be a death sentence for a profession so woven with conflict.

Asher built another cloud of smoke in his lungs.

The tension sheared away as Boris whistled audibly from the sidelines.

"Well, well, how sad."

Pity was scrawled on the boy's face, like a child's crayon drawing.

Dino and Gyeong-mi whirled around, their expression filled with hate. Why did he not back out earlier? Why only do so after their comrades died?

"I would call it quits here..."

Gyeong-mi stiffened.

'Would'?

"If I was a fucking loser!" The boy's grin resurfaced. "Hey, those two are still alive, right? Y'all know what happens if you quit here, don't you?"

Boris took out his brass knuckles, twirling them between his fingers.

Gyeong-mi hesitated.

Hesitation.

The Capo's expression flattened, morphing into a hollow stare.

"Kill them or die. One second."

Gyeong-mi gulped as the Capo's blackened scleras pierced through his sunglasses, into the man's soul.

A second passed.

Boris opened his mouth, then froze. A white cloak rose from the ground beside him. The boy's mouth morphed into a thin, white line.

"New Capo."

The man's flat tone was coupled with the eerie tangle of golden chains on concrete.

Boris snapped downward, into a stiff, ninety-degree bow. He did not return the Proxy's greeting.

Esther glanced around himself, taking in the surroundings. The man let a ghost of a smile break past his lips as he observed Asher and Sophie freeze under his watchful gaze.

"Fix. To mend or repair a scene of damage."

The lamp post in Gyeong-mi's hand bubbled past his fingers, melding with the street once again. The various cracks in the pavement and railing also conjoined themselves.

Under the Proxy's eyes, the world seemed to hold still in anticipation.

Boris was still twisted in place. He was the only person out of every witness present who was bowing.

"You are the transfer from the Reaper's region?"

Boris did not speak, remaining in the stiff bow.

"You have permission to speak." The oldest rule in the Thumb; this was the founding principle.

Speaking to a direct superior without permission was forbidden in the Thumb. This rule applied to every type of authority in the City. For example, a Capo would never talk back to a Grade 3 Fixer without permission, under the fear of punishment by the superior party.

Under a different region, not under the lax supervision of Sottocapo Kalo, misfits could have their tongue removed for breaking such a rule.

Boris's mind drifted for a fraction of a second. He remembered the 'Silenzios', a secretive division under his old Sottocapo, Ibzan. Each one of them were former Capos who broke that rule.

Remembering the hollow gazes of the Silenzios, the boy shuddered.

It took some time for him to shake away the memory.

Boris finally reopened his mouth.

"Yes. Ibzan was my previous Sottocapo. You are this Section's Proxy of Knowledge, correct?"

Esther nodded. He spared no effort transitioning to the topic at hand.

"Your interactions with the Stray Dogs are to be ceased completely, starting three minutes from now."

The newly inaugurated Capo did not dare say a word of complaint.

Any of the Proxies' words were synonymous to the Index's will. And the Index was a being not even the Sottocapos dared to refute.

Boris made a subservient nod, bowing even deeper. He tilted his head, barking a few instructions to the remains of the Stray Dog entourage, Dino and Gyeong-mi.

"Alright, it's over! Scram!"

Having roughly suppressed their emotions, Gyeong-mi and Dino took in the sight before them. Dead bodies of their comrades filled their vision.

For what purpose did their sacrifices serve?

The leader heaved two of the bodies onto his shoulders, and Dino did the same with the remaining body.

Silently, they limped into the alleyway where Zulu's body disappeared into. Their comrade, they both knew, was long dead from that girl's searing blow.

Only, Asher blocked their path.

"I'm taking that man's body." Little Red's weapon was near its next upgrade.

"Bastard-!" Gyeong-mi tightened his fist, his eyes narrowing into slits of hatred. Then he whirled around.

Behind them, Boris cracked his knuckles.

The boy's skin trembled with suppressed bloodlust.

"Wanna die? Get the fuck outta my sight."

Gyeong-mi could only choose a different alley to disappear into.

Leaving the body of his right-hand man behind.

Asher and Sophie heaved the breaths they had stored in them. The adrenaline faded from their veins.

The remaining crowd dispersed into their buildings, as the excitement of the brawl faded.

Esther had long disappeared; the man was only there to stop the fight, for a reason only known by the Prescripts.

Boris stepped up to the two Fixers.

The Capo's face was surprisingly neutral, as if he depleted all his energy simply from the interaction with the Proxy.

Even his usual violent flair vanished, and his voice was thin with exhaustion.

"Now I've confirmed it. There's no way you could have beaten Stella."

Boris stepped closer, scoffing as the two Fixers tensed their stances.

"Crushing your skull to paste would be a breeze for me." He pinched the frame of his sunglasses. "In fact..."

The boy stared at the two Fixers' weary faces, then shrugged.

"The Sottocapo believes otherwise. Patch yourselves up. Don't think for a second that he's done testing you."

"Testing...?" Sophie whispered beneath her breath. Asher felt a sharp sting on his forearm as Sophie tightened her fingers.

"Ha, you bet! There's you," he pointed at Sophie, "who blew up a Soldato in front of his very eyes, and you," he pointed at Asher, "the illustrious Capo Killer!"

Boris's grin widened, exposing each of his pearl-white teeth. His voice taunted Asher, the so-called 'Capo Killer'.

After the fight with the Stray Dogs, Boris knew that the last Capo must have been either too weak or too braindead, dying pitifully to this kid in front of him.

Asher backed away a step as the Capo's skin stretched across his face in glee. Seeing his reaction, Boris's smile faded.

"But on a serious note, if the Sottocapo sets me on your trail... Well, let's just say that collecting the bits and pieces would be a huge pain."

The Capo turned around and began to walk away.

Before he disappeared around the corner, he left one last warning for them.

"The Index seems interested in you, too, for some godforsaken reason. That's the attention of two Fingers now. Watch your back, Chimère. And you too, Marionette."

With the chilling reminder, Boris left Asher and Sophie to themselves.

They let out a collective sigh.

Sophie spoke first.

"I have to [Room]. I think I'll just go back to Mei's." In the brawl's mayhem, the Sophie's Fixers had smartly made their way back to Mei's apartment, hiding there with her for the situation to finish.

Asher nodded. He wasn't badly wounded, but his partner could definitely use a break.

The girl's fingers, after all, were now black from the burn marks.

Sophie went back to rest. Asher watched the girl clip past his view, choosing not to follow her.

He decided to finish some more work, and also make use of the relatively strong corpse in the alley next to him.

After a long stare into the horizon, he turned around-

"What is this?"

The soft voice behind him caused Asher to flinch.

A familiar, haunting voice.

Yan stood beside him.

"Was that a lie?"

She twisted her head sideways.

A chill ran down Asher's spine as the girl's expression was dangerously blank.

"Is she not one of your disguises?"

Blinkless eyes stared into his soul.

He had forgotten.

That Yan knew half his secret.