#c14

From your vantage point on top of some poor kid’s destroyed home, you can see everything for like, half a mile, but you can’t point out any distinguishing features in the landscape. Her place was by a hill, right? Yeah, you had to climb up a hill to get to the siren…

“God, this sucks,” you mutter to nobody in particular, not even to God, because you’re not religious and you’re the only person around for what feels like lightyears.

It takes a good ten minutes to climb down from the wreckage, and another thirty to decide on a random direction and leave that part of Outglut behind. You investigate a few more hives along the way, but you don’t find anybody else. Whether that’s good or bad isn’t clear.

Just as you decide to just try and zap over to Marsti’s place you trip over something and eat shit on the pavement.

“Watch it!” a low voice hisses, only to inhale sharply once you push yourself to your knees and turn around.

Folkyl’s blind gaze stares directly into your own, even though you know she can’t see you. Her lips are parted and she’s drawing in air through her teeth to smell, like cats do, except cats don’t usually tell you to watch yourself when you trip on them.

“Sorry, dude. Long time no sniff,” you joke.

“What the… is that you, normie?” she demands, disbelief lacing her words. “Am I fucking… no way! We thought your alien ass got culled!”

“I lived, bitch,” you laugh, reaching over to pat her shoulder. “Got kidnapped, went on some adventures, found my way back here. How have you been?”

“It’s been shit,” she tells you bluntly, but there’s no frustration behind it. She’s been alive too long to care, you suppose. It’s something you’ve always respected her for. Sure, she calls you a “normie” and makes fun of the way you smell (seriously, though, what is up with trolls and commenting on your scent?) but you know it’s all in good fun.

You look around at the ruined neighborhood. “Yeah. Why the hell are you even here?”

“Kuprum wanted to come and loot off dead people. My matesprit wants to meet up so she can fuss over me and give me food.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you have a matesprit,” you say, plopping your rear end on the sidewalk. Might as well take a breather while you’re already down. You also decide to ignore the fact Kuprum likes to steal from the dead, even though you know it’s not your place to judge.

“Marsti. You know her,” Folkyl scoffs.

Relief surges through you like a tidal wave. “She’s alive?”

The goldblood hacks out a laugh and slaps her knee. “Are you kidding? It’d take a lot more than some regular-ass drone raid to kill that woman. And her lusus.”

“Good.” Whew, you feel a lot better now.

“Sap. Don’t go making any moves on my girl, or you’re done for.”

“Hey, I might be a slut by trolls standards but I’m no hivewrecker,” you snort. Marsti’s gorgeous, the whole of Thrashthrust probably knows that, but she isn’t your type.

A shout echoes from up the street, and you both turn to see the girl in question, Catmom, and Kuprum making their way over to you. Catmom is wearing a kitty harness with a little backpack on it, which is so frickin’ cute you think you might cry.

Kuprum stops dead in his tracks when you make eye contact with him, stares, and then a huge grin splits his face as he runs the rest of the way over to punch you in the shoulder.

“Ow! Fucker!” You kick him in the butt, but you’re just as glad to see his greasy self alive and well. There’s a new scar across his left cheek and he’s a little taller than when you last saw him, but it’s good to know he’s the same old asshole.

“Fucking incredible. Everybody thinks you’re dead for half a sweep and then you show up to sit around in the dirt with my moirail? Strange flex, but alright.” Kuprum pulls some candy bars out of his backpack and tosses you one, which you gratefully accept.

Marsti huffs as she sits down next to Folkyl. “That’s nothing. When I first saw them again they had climbed the siren pole behind my hive to prematurely set it off.”

“Why?”

“Give everybody a head start in getting somewhere safe.”

Kuprum looks impressed. “That’s illegal. Hell yeah.”

“Thanks!” You give him a thumbs-up as you munch on your candy bar.

You would have liked nothing more than to sit around and catch up with your friends, but before you can ask everybody what they’ve been up to Marsti stiffens with a growl, pointed ears swiveling forward to catch some noise you can’t pick up. Folkyl and Kuprum scuttle back into the shelter of the nearest burnt-down hive.

Fate comes to kick you in the ass as a familiar figure swoops down from the sky on a hoverboard. It’s Mallek, and he does not look like a happy camper.

“Dude! What’s up?” you yell.

“We’ve got a problem, that’s what’s up!”

You jump to your feet and rush over to him, ignoring Marsti’s hiss of concern. Mallek lands in the middle of the street, running a hand through his hair and glancing around as if worrying about being followed. He looks like he hasn’t slept at all, which worries you tremendously, because if you know anything at all about Mallek Adalov it’s that he loves to sleep.

By the time you reach him he’s already going off. “I thought I’d give it some time, because I didn’t want to give any nearby drones something to track-- texting him, I mean, and he’s already probably on a cull list somewhere, I just… I dunno! But it’s been all night, and I--”

“Mallek. My man. Take a deep breath,” you instruct. What the hell could possibly be so bad that Mallek is panicking? Mallek never panics.

Mallek obeys and takes a deep breath, holding it for a couple of seconds before letting it go. “Diemen was in this neighborhood when it got bombed.”

Every drop of blood in your body turns to ice. Oh.

“He texted me afterwards saying that he made it out okay, but he had a kid with him with a broken leg or something. I’m like ‘Yeah, of course, come over’, and I wait, and-and he just never shows up,” Mallek breaths. He sucks in some more air before continuing. “I’ve been searching all of Outglut since the sun went down.”

“You can’t track his palmhusk?”

“No. I only know his last location before it disappeared. It was probably destroyed.”

“Fuck.” You stare up at the stars. “Fuck. Okay. Let’s go back there, see what we can find.”

A yell interrupts your conversation. “Yo, alien! This guy bothering you?”

You turn to yell back to Kuprum, who’s all puffed up like an angry chicken despite being a skinny lowblooded dude. You love your friends so much. “Nah, man, this is Mallek! He’s great, when we met he thought I was a robot!”

Folkyl cackles in amusement, and even Marsti cracks a smile.

“It was only for a little bit,” Mallek complains, almost to himself, before looking down at you with those big blue eyes that have no business being so adorable. “You coming?”

“You bet.” You hold up a finger and race back over to the goldbloods and Marsti.

“Ditching us for the highblood, huh?” Folkyl sniggers.

You make a face. “Sorry, guys. A friend of mine and Mallek’s went missing after the drone raid, and well… we gotta go find him. Keep an eye out for a short rustblood boy with an oblong meat product obsession for me, will you?”

Kuprum suddenly looks way more interested. “Oh, damn, the hiveless guy? Yeah, sure. He’s alright. For a total loser, that is.”

“We know Diemen. There was this psionic orgy at a party, and I asked if he wanted in, but he was too busy with this bronzeblood--” Folkyl begins, but you just groan and stomp away to join Mallek, her taunting laughter ringing through the streets.

Unfortunately, Mallek’s smirking as well. “I like your friends.”

“I’m glad one of us does. Fly or teleport?”

“Fly. For old times sake.”

Everything is kind of shitty at the moment, but you can’t help but smile as you hop up on the hoverboard with him and wrap your arms around his waist. Mallek kicks the hoverboard into gear and you hang on for dear life as the two of you shoot off. It’s a damn good thing you guys have done this like a million times already, because even though it’s been a while you remember how to lean with him as he flies around hives, and then buildings.

You whoop as Mallek corkscrews around a skyscraper. Below the hoverboard, the ground is so far away scuttlebuggies are no bigger than ants. The wind is whipping your hair around everywhere-- man, you need a haircut-- and you’re fucking freezing because all you’re wearing is the hoodie Mallek gave you once, jeans , and a pair of combat boots that Elwurd grew out of a long time ago, but you can’t stop laughing. Mallek grins back at you over his shoulder, goofy as all hell before joining in. Everything feels like it’s going to be okay.

Hang on, Diemen. We’re on our way.

:::

Of course, Diemen’s last known location is a super-creepy back alley. The buildings on either side are so tall no moonlight can get in, because why not, with a dash of the smell of something that smelled faintly of roadkill to complete the ambiance. You almost run into a dumpster one or two times as Mallek leads the way due to your weak-ass eyesight.

“If we die, I call haunting that pile of garbage over there.” You point to a small lump of stuff on the ground.

“Yeah... that’s a dead body.”

For crying out loud. “Ah.”

“They get first dibs around here, I think.”

You sock him in the bicep as he snickers. “Ass.”

“Shoulders, knees, and toes, knees and toes--”

Mallek’s palmhusk beeps. You peer around him to see a flashing red dot on the screen, marked by a green grid thing of where you guys currently are.

“This where Diemen vanished off the face of the planet.” He stuffs the palmhusk into his pocket and looks around. “No signs of a struggle. No blood. I can’t smell anything.”

“I take that to mean that dead body back there…”

“Definitely not.”

“Good.”

“Anything noteworthy from an alien’s perspective?”

You groan in frustration. “Humans are diurnal, dude. We’re supposed to be awake during the day and we sleep at night when it’s dark. I can’t see shit.”

“Okay, okay.”

Mallek emerges from the other end of the alley, with you right behind him. The temperature is dropping off quick, making you huddle against the ceruleanblood for warmth even though he’s far colder than you are. You’re pretty sure this is the tail end of what passes for winter on Alternia despite the lack of snow on the ground.

Out of the corner of your eye, something glints in the moonlight, and you turn to see a security camera aimed at the street you guys are on.

You can’t believe your luck. “Mallek, look!”

He follows your pointer finger to the camera and grins ear-to-ear. “Oh, hell yes.”

Mallek whips out his phone again and taps in the address of the building on your left while you do a little victory jig. The both of you are still in the shadows, so you’re not too worried about your presence being noted just yet.

After that you guys race over to his apartment, and you’re high on adrenaline and optimism. Mallek locks the door behind you once you’re inside, so you take the lead and race up to his respiteblock/workspace/gaming area, with him hard on your heels.

“Alright, so first we put in the address…” He parkours his way over a mountain of random shit and into his desk chair. “... get into the security system, find the tapes, organize the data by date, strip the footage…”

He keeps rambling on excitedly about hacker stuff that you don’t know anything about, but you’re just as hype as he is for the breakthrough. You watch, impressed, as he expertly navigates his way through a series of screens, each with more tabs than you have fingers, and puts in so many passcodes with so many numbers your head hurts just looking at it. It must be really nice, having more than one brain cell.

He’s through in fifteen minutes.

“Mallek. Buddy. You gotta say it,” you beg him.

“Say what?”

“... You know.”

“... No.”

“Please?”

Mallek stares up at you and sighs. “Fine. Hacker voice: I’m in.”

“Yes!”

It’s a few more moments before he finds the footage and begins to sort through everything. None of it makes any sense to you.

Before long you get antsy and start looking around for something to do while Mallek does his big boy work. “Hey, where’s Snakedad? I didn’t get the chance to say hi last time.”

Mallek goes strangely silent. Then, he turns to you, not looking you in the eyes. All of his previous enthusiasm drains right out of him.

“Mallek?” you ask, concerned. “Is something wrong?”

He exhales tiredly and finally looks up at you. “My lusus… he was already ancient when he picked me out of the caverns. He… he died a few perigees ago. Nothing I could do, he was just really old.”

You feel like you’ve been sucker punched. “Oh, God, Mallek--”

“But it’s fine! Lots of kids don’t get as lucky as me. Some lusii die of awful stuff like, like tumors, or they get murdered, so… I’m lucky. I even got to be there when he went.”

It’s definitely not fine, you can tell just by looking at his face, but you don’t tell him that. Instead you just make your way over to him and wrap your arms around him. He stiffens for a second, and you immediately lean back so you can give him space, only for him to pull you tightly against him like he’s lost at sea and you’re a piece of driftwood. He doesn’t cry or anything, just tremble slightly as you comb your fingers through his hair.

When’s the last time he’s been held like this, if at all? When’s the last time somebody expressed that they care about him?

In a society that idolizes tearing down the vulnerable, what’s to keep a kid from isolation once he loses everything?

“You’re really warm,” Mallek mumbles into your chest.

You smile, leaning down to knock your foreheads together. “You’re really cold.”

“Thanks. For being here, I mean.”

You know what he means. The words send little prickles of sunshine into your heart, lighting you up from the inside out.

Oh, hey, those blue eyes are really, really close.

For a second, you wait for him to make the next move, to do something, anything, but then you see something on the screen that freezes you in place.

It’s Diemen, supporting a little rustblood girl with a leg that’s bent in the wrong place. He’s talking to an indigoblood riding some Alternian version of an electric scooter. And maybe the indigoblood is wearing a bulky black jacket and a helmet that obscures most of his lean figure, but you’d recognize that greasy ponytail anywhere.

Everything clicks into place.