Raven

It's not as though he hadn't heard of Wednesday, though. And not just through Enid. If he really believed all the rumours floating around about her, he'd believe that not only had she killed a boy, but also gutted and quartered babies for sale to the black market, and she skinned her victims before consuming them under a blood moon.

She had only just arrived, and she already had a reputation to rival his own.

Nevermore loved a good story. Enid loved a good story. Which meant she wouldn't leave him alone.

Dr. Kinbott herself was making it harder and harder for him to resist the urge to tear his hair out.

"Silas, you need to work with me here."

"…What more do you want from me? A blood donation?"

Valerie Kinbott sighed and closed her notebook, leaning forward slightly. Silas met her gaze, refusing to back down. His nails dug into the scratchy fabric of the couch he was sitting on, looking for purchase on anything to keep him calm.

A loud rip tore throughout the room, and Silas flinched.

His claws. They'd torn cleanly through the cushion, cutting deep into the padding of the couch.

…When had he clawed out?

"The fact that you are reacting this way," Valerie continued, unfazed, "means that this still scares you. You are afraid of facing your truth, Silas."

Silas growled, then drew his lips tightly over his teeth to stifle it.

"I'm not scared. It's been six months of coming to your office, Valerie." He hissed. "Why would I be scared?"

He hoped Dr. Kinbott would let him go. A heat was building up in his temple, right above his ears. He needed to go.

Valerie blinked at him, then picked her notebook back up, flipping the pages. "You're still aggressive."

"I haven't hurt anyone." Silas snapped. His patience was wearing thin. The heat was getting worse.

Dr. Kinbott studied him with the quiet attention of someone who knew that she had her prey cornered. This must be like a game to her, Silas thought, his mind laced with desperation. A sick game. She just wants to be right.

"Then let us talk about your mother."

The searing heat exploded into a blinding flash behind Silas' eyes, and he gasped at the wave of pure rage that flooded through him, all his rage and the anger of something more powerful and than he was.

Quickly, he grabbed his book from the table, muttered a quick "I'm done." to Dr. Kinbott, and left the office, stuffing the book into his camera bag in a blind panic.

She watched the door slam shut, then sighed, crossing something out in her notebook.

Nevermore was a strange place, made stranger by the fact that the institution was one meant to confine teenagers. Principal Weems would correct him, probably. Say that it was meant to nurture teenagers, the best minds of the age, the cream of the crop, the best that the dark underbelly of the outcast world had to offer.

Well. As dark as the minds of the 'geniuses of Nevermore' were, the strangeness did not stem from the darkness that inhabited every soul on the grounds. It came from the fact that they were just that. Teenagers. Silas knew that better than anyone, how even the cold stare of a werewolf on the hunt could not hold a candle to the vindictive fury of a teenager who had vengeance pumping through their blood, seeping into their flesh, their bones, their very being.

The furious teenager inside Silas was losing the battle to the wolf. And fast. His blood ran hot, roaring in his ears. He was meant to be walking briskly away from the town and heading towards Nevermore, but the way the road was rushing past told him that along the way, he had stopped walking and was now running. The last, abandoned stretch of road that cut through the woods leading to the school was now a playground. The thing inside him wanted to play.

The warm tang of blood filled his mouth as his fangs nearly bit his tongue in half, and the creature inside him growled pleasantly, feeding off of his despair. It must be. Otherwise, there was no way it would keep doing this, keep taking control when it knew he desperately needed it. The creature hated him, and he hated it back. More than it knew. More than could be put into words.

The part of him that was still in control wondered if that was all he was full of. Hate.

In his haze, he noticed the clock on Iago Tower, its arms forever stuck at 7:35, and he forced himself to slow down. The immediate pain that sung up his spine from the action alone pushed a harsh whimper past his lips and a dribble of blood down his chin. This was a game of minds, and Silas was good at those. And fuck all if he was about to let the thing inside him ruin his life yet again.

It look several pained minutes for Silas to find the path through the woods that led straight into the grounds of Nevermore, and right Xavier's shed.

If he was lucky, the Psychic wouldn't be around, and he could sneak past.

He was immediately proven wrong. It was Xavier's mop of long brown hair that greeted him first, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. And it was his exasperated, panicked voice that grated his ears, too, making him growl. Silas sank to the ground, exhausted, his head throbbing.

"What the actual fuck Silas, you're bleeding."

Silas coughed.

The evening sun filtered through the tips of Xavier's hair, making it look like he was wearing a golden halo of light. It was an observation that Silas wished he hadn't made. It brought up feelings too complicated to think on.

Xavier, once, had been used to Silas' highs and lows, especially the break outs. But that was once, not anymore. And admittedly, they hadn't been as bad as this then. Never bad enough to force him to mutilate his own tongue. Never bad enough that he had lost control.

The concern in Xavier's eyes as he helped Silas up and wiped the blood off of his chin was something Silas forced himself to ignore.

"Was it Dr. Kinbott?" Xavier murmured, eyes set forward as he draped Silas' limp arm over his shoulder and started for the infirmary.

Silas merely grunted. Xavier shot him a quick sideways glance. "Right. You bit your tongue. Don't talk."

More out of irritation at the whole situation than out of lack of pain, Silas forced himself to talk. "It'll heal."

It wasn't a lie. The muscle in his mouth was already mending itself, sealing itself closed slowly but surely. He'd be fine eventually. Silas hated everything about being a werewolf, but swift healing was definitely a perk he'd keep if he had the choice.

Xavier's slender frame was definitely a deceptive map of frailty. He manged to support Silas' weight the entire way to the infirmary, silence pressing in all around them with an intensity that reminded Silas of a pressure cooker. The path to the infirmary was deserted; nearly everyone was at dinner or preparing for the Poe cup. He vaguely wondered how Enid's boat was doing, whether it was coming along well. Maybe he'd check later, when no one was around to stare at him.

Silas focused on the way the evening sun was reflecting off of the cobblestone and cursed under his breath: he'd lost time again.

He'd left Dr. Kinbott's office at 2:00 pm.

"Xavier," Silas rasped, "What time is it, exactly?"

Xavier didn't look at him. "A little after 6:00."

Four hours missing.

He'd had missing slots of time longer than that, but four was a lot. That was four hours during which he could've done anything. Four hours between Jericho and Nevermore, which was just a 25 minute walk. His head hurt.

Xavier said nothing when they got to the Infirmary, just helped him onto the bed and sat by as Silas slowly took off his shoes and lay down on the narrow bed.

Xavier stood up and turned to leave. Silas could've thanked him. He didn't, just watched the door silently swing shut behind him.

The nurse wasn't around, so Silas lay there, head swimming as the many little cuts and bruises along his body that he didn't remember getting healed and sealed shut.

He wondered about the lost time, what could possibly have happened in those four hours since Dr. Kinbott accidentally set him off. He hoped he hadn't hurt anyone, which was highly unlikely, because there was never anyone in the woods surrounding Nevermore. The thought haunted him, plagued him, and toyed with him until he drifted off. When he woke, it wasn't the nurse's concerned voice dragging him out of the sea of restless sleep. It was the gravelly voice of Sherrif Galpin and the cold press of handcuffs to his wrists.

"Silas Sinclair. You are under arrest for the suspected murder of Ethan Hanson."

Silas shot up from his sleep, immediately panicking, head snapping side to side, eyes landing on the lit doorway, where the silhouette of Principal Weems stood, her shadowed face void of any emotion, hardened eyes fixed on the Sherrif as he snapped the cuffs around his struggling wrists.

"Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law," Sherrif Galpin said, stepping back as two constables hauled Silas, writhing and twisting, off the bed. He glanced up, searching the grim faces of those around him, cold horror dropping like a dead weight into his stomach.

"Don't fight it, son." The Sherrif said, voice cold.

The Cancellation

Now when Infold announced Valko they were adamant about releasing him until that very suddenly changed. We all know about 731 so I won’t get into that. BUT people were concerned about this in fear that the Chinese government would shut Infold down or force them to keep Valko cancelled.

If that were to happen Infold would be long gone by now. And I mean like almost immediately. And if the government had told them to keep Valko cancelled they would have responded to us by now and told us it wasn’t possible. Ignoring a protest this size for no reason would only cause a bigger mess for them.

PR and the reception of Valko.

At the time that Valko was cancelled most people were pretty on the fence about him or just weren’t that loud about their love for him. Not louder than the haters were anyway. The most viral things about him from global were the memes. This is why I very highly doubt that they expected this response. They cancelled him for damage control without knowing just how massive this would become. In just a few days he went from being the least popular love interest to a character known by people who haven’t even heard of the game before. It’s the best uno reverse that any of us have ever seen.

With the amount of attention now on Infold and their horrible blunder, refusing to release Valko would be company suicide. They would lose players and the general respect of most people in the gaming community. It would go even more viral than it already is considering that multiple news outlets and content creators have talked about this already. Their reputation would be ruined.

They have the eyes of the whole world on them. That is a company’s wet dream to capitalise on.

Money (of course)

With the amount of people who have spoken up, blasted every social media platform, email and comment section, they know what is in this for them. They would be more than aware of the drastic drop in revenue between Xavier’s KOD rerun and Zayne’s GOA rerun. That isn’t something a company can simply ignore. And of course there is the website of Valko supporters summing up their total spending which adds up to millions btw. They would never risk losing that much revenue. It would be mental. And then there are the people donating to wolf conservations, adopting wolves, naming a STAR after Valko and making billboards. If people can spare enough money for all of this, imagine how much they could have to spare on their game especially now that everyone LOVES Valko.

The Story (and more money)

Love and Deepspace is a game that has always been HEAVILY story driven. From the main story to the characters memories, anecdotes, myths, and the world underneath, there is so much time and money put into it’s creation. It is all intricately weaved and intertwined. And I haven’t even mentioned the 3D animation, mocap and voice acting. Not only is that hard to delete but it is hard to financially recover from. Valko has been planned from the very start and that is incredibly obvious just from observing the games most basic tools and the UI. He has been planted from the beginning, his roots run deep in this story and it’s future. Ripping that out would be HELL for the creative team. Not only emotionally devastating but just nearly impossible. How do you explain the absence of such a crucial part of a story? It’s like ripping a cog out of a machine and expecting it to still run perfectly fine.

In conclusion