Nymos

Recovery had been painful. Eret had to help you change your bandages, since your arms and back were still sore. He also offered to spoon-feed you soup, but you shot him a withering glare and he shut up.

You were finally allowed to resume your job. It helped you not to go stir-crazy, but you had...enjoyed the days off. Your friend had made you laugh until your stitches nearly burst, and you could never look at pineapples the same way again.

With some effort, you managed to strap yourself into your armour.

You’ve had time to reflect.

Blood God had saved you. Eret had his number saved on his phone.

“Didn’t wanna deal with the hero replacing you.”

What could that imply? Did he like you more than other heroes? You weren’t after his approval, but it did feel nice to be acknowledged. Maybe he had gotten used to your mannerisms and quirks? You tended to talk a lot during your fights. It was super fun to bicker with Calydon, who was super chatty. He did take care not to reveal anything vital about his identity, but you had heard enough after how he told you he ordered his coffee. Disgusting.

You knew the Syndicate, but Blood God especially, hated the hero system and did everything within their power to topple the empire of heroes. Were you just another soldier to him? And why did you care so much what he thought of you?

And what was Eret’s role in all of this?

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The rain was just pouring straight down. Harsh, cold wind jutted through your fairly thick clothes. Just a horrorful Wednesday night. Your shift had started a few hours ago and the weather kept growing worse. You wished you were home and it reminded you of your latest failed mission. Look, it was nice to rescue people and save the day, but at this hour? Your bed called your name.

At least the radio was quiet. You really weren’t looking forward to fighting another villain today. Globsputter (yes, really) nearly set you ablaze just an hour ago and you had to file an incident report. So much paperwork, you should’ve become an accountant instead.

Loosing a sigh, you looked down at the alleyway before you. You had picked a random, isolated spot to relax in, so you were surprised when movement caught your eye.

Your heart seized, cold terror flooding your abdomen.

Blood God was here.

Hunched over something, he seemed to not have discovered you yet. What was he doing here?! Carefully, you inched backwards from the ledge of the building and listened.

While you were used to him mumbling under his breath, this seemed to be more directed at...something.

You strained your ears, and under the white noise of the rain you could make out soft meows.

Fuck, were there kittens? How had you not heard them sooner? Were you spacing out that much?

You risked a quick look to the alley. Three tiny, fuzzy creatures were gathered in his big hands. Hands that had been stained with so much blood in the past. He cradled them close to his chest, the babies leeching off of his warmth.

You could all too clearly hear the pleased chuff that Blood God made as he turned on his heel and walked away.

Shit, he was out of your sight. What would happen to the kittens? Should you follow him, risk a confrontation? You were all healed up, yes, but you weren’t keen on re-injuring yourself. While you could take on the Blood God, you preferred being more prepared than this.

But the cats.

You followed him. Who knows what he had in mind for these poor fuzzballs. What if he was sacrificing him to an evil god?

...You might’ve been theorising a bit too much about his hobbies while you were at work.

It was a winding path through L’manburg’s streets, You were turning at every other corner until you were in front of an … animal shelter? Was this some mob front?

Blood God paused in front of the door. Shuffled awkwardly. Looked around.

“Uhhhh. Here goes nothing, I guess?” he muttered to himself.

He gingerly put the kittens on the ground, rang the doorbell, and booked it.

You watched the door open, a horned woman stepping out and taking the kittens inside. Huh. Guess it was the real deal?

In your dumbfounded haze, you missed the Blood God disappearing.

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You locked eyes, but he looked shocked.

With a swift movement, he swung his weapon at your guard and scattered his brains over the wall. If you had anything in your stomach at all, you surely would’ve fought to keep it in your body at the sight.

Good god, you were next. He would swipe your head off, or chop you to bits while you screamed-

The ropes binding you loosened.

Huh?

You turned your head around, trying to decipher what on earth was going on. Behind you knelt Blood God, fiddling with the ropes until he took his dagger and simply cut them.

To reiterate: Huh???

“Get up.”

Never did his voice fail to raise goosebumps on your arms; too much did you associate his gruff baritone with the foul smell of death and agonized screams.

You hauled ass, trying to get as far away from the danger as you could, but your feet weren’t cooperating. Falling flat on your face, you cursed your frail body. A deep, annoyed sigh behind you was the only warning before you were picked up like a particularly misbehaving cat.

He just manhandled you like it was nothing! Just how strong was he?!

As his shoulder dug into your side. your now elevated vantage-point gave you the opportunity to overview the situation: Blood, gore, bits of innards.

The rest of the Syndicate was nowhere to be seen. Where they even here?

Blood God carried you out of the room, through some floors and halls and what-nots. How the hell did he know where to go? You’d already lost track after the first three corners you rounded.

“Can you type?”, his annoyed voice ripped you out of your musings.

You wiggled your fingers.

Yes! you told him. His ear twitched.

Letting go of you with one hand, he quickly fished out his phone and gave it to you.

“Call someone to pick you up. I ain’t stickin’ around.”

Doing as he told you, you punched in Royal’s number and listened to the beeps patiently. He picked up after the second ring.

“-ello, Blood God? What is happening? Where are you?”

You interrupted him with a “Nice to see you too.”

“Guardian? You OK? Where are you right now?”

Good question.

You poked Blood God’s shoulder.

“Where are we?”

“Brighton street 25, the old warehouse has an underground cellar we’re in.”

As you relayed the information to your fellow hero, you ordered him to bring you something to eat, God knows you were starving.

Royal was on his way, so you could focus on other important things, like food. And your weapons. Speaking of which.

“Have you seen my weapons?”

“If I had, I’d keep them as payment. You owe me a favor, and a big one at that.” Bastard. You could hear the self-satisfied smile in his voice.

“How do you even know where we’re going? It all looks the same.”

Blabbering his ear off wasn’t something a smart person would do, but c’mon. You had no one to talk to in the time you were kidnapped, so you welcomed the entertainment. As far as you could call being slung over your arch-nemesis’ shoulder like a potato sack “entertainment”.

He huffed.

“I’m the human GPS. I always know where I am.”

You sent him a flat look, which your helmet effectively blocked. You decided to mentally transfer the feeling of being judged to him.

“Stop that.”

Just as you were about to retort, you stopped in front of an elevator door. Freedom!

Blood God had to duck to enter the elevator, and you would’ve laughed if you hadn’t almost hit your head along with him.

As you stood in the ungodly slow elevator, you took inventory of your body.

You noted your rising irritability, which you chalked up to your hunger and general pain-level. Maybe the withdrawal of your meds.

Everything hurt, even muscles you didn’t even know existed.

This was not good. So you poked Blood God.

How did you even know I was here?

“I didn’t. Also, stop pokin’ me.”

You huffed, not that he could hear it.

Why rescue me?

He was quiet for a second too long.

“Didn’t wanna deal with the hero replacing you.”

Finally, the elevator dinged and the doors opened. Sunlight flooded your face, too used to the artificial lights.

You were dumped unceremoniously. Blood God just strode off into the light, not even sparing a glance towards your crumpled form. Asshole.

Swift footsteps approached you, Royal’s mask popping into you field of vision.

You could relax, you were safe. He picked you up, struggling, and got you to his car.

“Let’s get you home.”