#spark 23

The papers in his fist smoke, the feathery cloud mixing with the dust in the air for no more than a few seconds before igniting with a silent phwoomp. Oops? Someone more sensible (Konro, maybe) would have chosen to preserve them as evidence, but Konro isn’t there and a hopelessly naive side of Benimaru is discreetly urging him to destroy any recount of what these white-clad have been doing as if that could delete the actions too.

Continuing in silence, the men have to be increasingly carefully as walls have been blasted away and the ceiling threatens to cave in the closer to the epicentre they get. Small mounds of ashes and burned clothes dot the way in random intervals – they all look to have been made of a rough material that once might have been a sort of grey...and some are too small for adults.

Benimaru has counted six by the time they reach their destination.

According to the guy they had interrogated, the heart of the cavernous darkness ahead used to be a room of roughly 25 square meters but expanded considerably due to the explosion that had sent heatwaves throughout the subterranean network of tunnels and chambers.

“Still no sign of his comrade,” the drowsy voice of Joker points out.

Maybe the guy we met wasn’t the only one to run. “Well...if Giovanni already had left, why’d one man stay behind and face an infernal alone?”

It’s a rhetorical question which the lanky man decides to ponder. Knowing already that Joker will say what he likes regardless of any protests, the captain of company seven shifts some pieces of rubble to ensure nothing (or rather: no one) is beneath it.

“It was the strongest he’d ever seen, right?” That’s exactly what the white-clad had claimed before expiring. “They can’t have realized that was a risk or Giovanni wouldn’t have told them to continue with the experiments.”

Whichever reason the twisted “doctor” must have had for leaving, the duo haven’t gotten a proper explanation and the risk of Giovanni and maybe more of his fellow nut-jobs returning makes the hairs on Benimaru stand on end.

“Doesn’t matter now,” he growls, “we came here for one reason only.” With that, he clambers over a chunk of ceiling in the hopes of finding [Y/N].

...  Reader  ...

Your body is heavier than lead. Lying still, the only thoughts running through your mind are simple observations related to the physical inputs. The layer of dust settling on your face and getting caught in the eyelashes is soft, blowing into the air if you exhale harder and renewing the smell of concrete and dirt. You’re also vaguely aware that you’re sprawled out across something hard, but it doesn’t really matter much now that the pain has numbed your body – as long as you don’t move, it’ll be fine and you might eventually get some rest.