"Edwards, slow down!" Equinox shouted.

    Dark kept walking down the halls, his cloak rushing behind him. Xilef only cast her a glance when she caught up.

    "This is reckless," she said. "We have three hours before this 'experiment' is even over. That gives us time to sit and wait—"

    "We've waited for long enough," Dark spat. They turned a corner, and Equinox nearly tripped on her heels. "I told Mark that I would be there for him. I failed."

    "You knew he was going to get hurt—no matter what," said Equinox. "What makes this any different?"

    "You don't know Antinstine like I do, Equinox," spat Dark. "You wouldn't understand."

    Equinox bared her teeth, glared at Xilef. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

    Xilef glanced down at her through the corner of his eye. They kept walking. "I trust Dark's judgement," he said simply. "You should, too." Equinox scoffed and shook her head.

    "What're you going to do when you find them?" she demanded. "Have you even thought about that, yet?"

    Dark breathed hard through his nose and stopped. Equinox stumbled a few paces ahead before whirling around to meet his gaze. It was red with fury.

    "Antinstine isn't someone who shows mercy, Equinox," he breathed, meeting her in two strides. "He's never friendly, or accommodating, or sweet unless he has a reason to be." He towered over Equinox, the rage rolling off of him in waves. "Can't you see?" he seethed. "He's planning something, and he's using Mark for it."

    Equinox stood her ground, frowning. "You can't just go out there blind."

    "I won't," he breathed, and he leaned back, gaze going half-lidded. His rage settled into that dangerous, uncomforting quiet. "I'll have Eyes filling me in every step of the way."

    With that, he resumed walking, Xilef close behind. Equinox clenched her fists and huffed.

    "If it'll make you feel better," Dark called out, "you can come with."

———

The changes were subtle, at first. The echoing in his ears, the clearer image of his surroundings.

    Ox lingered around Mark during the entire experiment, making sure everything went smoothly. Syl recorded data and conducted other experiments while Antinstine lounged around, laying on top of lab tables or slumping on the floor in boredom. Despite the casual manner of the experiment, Mark couldn't help but be on edge. As time dragged onward, the feeling didn't go away; he grew more spastic—paranoid.

    As the second hour ticked on and on, closer to three, Mark jumped at any sounds in the room. The padding of feet, the clinking of vials, the drips of water into solution. They echoed around him, through him—as loud as screeching cars or blaring music.

    There was no pain, but the room spun around him.

    Twenty minutes left.

    The room gave a sudden lurch. Mark swayed and gripped the edge of the table. His vision went blurry, and his ears rang with a sudden, piercing frequency. He slid out of his seat and fell to the floor.

    "Viper—" It was Ox. He sounded faraway, his voice swimming along with the other noises. "Viper, are you alright?"

    Mark breathed hard, his vision splitting like a kaleidoscope. Lights dazzled all around him, swimming with shadows, and he screwed his eyes shut to try and make it go away. His hands brushed against a body. He swatted it away.

    "What's happening?" Antinstine.

    "The serum... maybe it's..."

    "I told you..." Syl. "The ability... too complicated."

    Mark opened his eyes, but it was still blurry. He shut them again. Their voices were too loud—their figures suffocating. He could hear every beat of their hearts—could hear them swallow, could hear them breathe.

    "Do something about it," echoed Antinstine's voice in his head.

    "I am!" Ox. "He shouldn't be feeling anything—"

    "Maybe he should," said Syl. Mark cringed away from their voices; his own breathing was too loud. It made him feel hollow. "The body responds to pain..."

    "S-stop talking—" Mark slurred, clutching at the cold floor. His voice thundered in his head. "Stop talking."

    They did. An awful silence hung over the air, carving out a void in the spiral of sounds. Mark could still hear them swallow, breathe—could still hear their heartbeats—but now that he focused, he realized their hearts were beating faster. Something had happened.

    Mark blearily opened his eyes. His vision was still blurry, splitting and wavering—but through the blurriness, he could make out three shapes standing over him. He couldn't see their faces, but he could feel their fear—could hear it.

    "What..." breathed Mark, struggling to focus. "What's wrong?"

    "Nothing," Ox answered automatically, as if he had to answer right away. Mark could hear Antinstine's sharp exhale—a breath between a laugh and a sigh.

    "It worked," said Anti. He clapped Ox's shoulder, nudging him forward, and Mark flinched with how loud it was. "Let him feel again—just a little bit. That should fix it."

    Fix what? Mark thought, but before he could dwell on it, a sharp pain pounded in his head. He shouted—clutched his head—closed his eyes—

    He lied, rang through Mark's head, louder than the noise around him. He lied, he lied, he LIED. The pain increased, and Mark curled in on himself, gritting his teeth.

    "That's good," said Syl.

    The pain shut off like a switch.

    Mark gasped for air, and his eyes flew open. Everything came back crisp and clear—so clear that the sight crashed into him, and he stumbled back, winded. Antinstine knelt by his side and helped him sit up, hands gentle. Mark huffed.

    "Painless, my ass," he managed out, still able to feel the echo of pain. Antinstine snickered, and the sound wasn't as loud this time; the room still echoed around Mark, but it wasn't overbearing. Whatever this ability was, it made his senses hypersensitive. He didn't enjoy it one bit.

    "Pain is mandatory sometimes," said Antinstine with a smirk. "I didn't expect it would be needed for this, though."

    Mark's brows furrowed, and he gripped the table, hoisting himself up. Antinstine's hand hovered at the small of his back for good measure.

    "What exactly did you do to me?" Mark mumbled.

    Antinstine's posture slackened. "Ability of persuasion," he said automatically, just like Ox. "It's an ability that borders between telepathic and physical. A silvertongue." His eyes had glazed over when he answered... like the life had left them. Mark's eyes narrowed, and he stared at Antinstine.

    "Are you saying I can control people?"

Mark could see the words crawl out of Antinstine's throat before he had a chance to think about them.

"Yes," he answered, eyes glazing again. Mark's eyes widened, the room seeming to spin around him again. Antinstine shook his head and motioned towards Syl. "Try it on him."

Mark swallowed, and he turned towards the scientist, his head blank. "What do I say?"

"Anything."

Mark pursed his lips, his face hardening. "Something simple, then," he said. He studied Syl for a moment. "Jump two times and touch your toes."

Syl's eyes glazed over, and he obeyed without hesitation. Mark's eyes bulged out of his head.

"No way," he breathed. Every word that passed from his lips felt like poison—he couldn't even trust himself. How was this possible?

Syl blinked, and the spell fell from his eyes.

"Tell me your name," said Mark.

"My name is Syl Vern," he said, the life and energy dying from his eyes again. When he blinked away the spell, the light was back.

"Fascinating, isn't it?" breathed Antinstine, running a hand along Mark's shoulders. He shuddered. "Now imagine killing with that ability."

Mark breathed hard, his heart speeding up.

"This..." Mark shook his head, voice quiet. "I don't..."

Antinstine smirked, and he circled around Mark—leaned in close so the scientists wouldn't hear.

"Selfish, isn't it?" he whispered, breath hot over Mark's neck. Mark shuddered and swallowed, feeling like prey despite his new ability. "We allow Evolveds with abilities like this to roam around freely. Without consequence."

Antinstine was so close that Mark could feel the brush of his body against his.

"No Evolved in their right mind," said Antinstine, "would use this power for good." He paced around Mark, then stopped in front of him, eyes alight. "They don't deserve their power, do they? It should be stripped from them—leave them with nothing so they know how it really feels to live."

Mark swallowed, Antinstine's words echoing in his head. He had that murderous gaze he knew all too well.

"The world resists one way or another," said Antinstine, "when you bend it to your will." His eyes glinted, and he grinned, stepping back. "Why don't we finally get something to eat?"

Mark stood there, stunned—and for the first time in his life, he didn't want to kill.

———

Dark stood at the edge of the Fanged Elder forest, glaring into its shadowy depths. Xilef watched him through calm, calculated eyes.

    "Equinox does have a point," said Xilef quietly. "If Eyes does manage to see where they're going... what will you do?"

    Dark's jaw tightened, and his fists clenched. He turned the question over in his head—tried coming up with a plausible answer—but came up with nothing. Xilef watched him carefully; could see the cogs turning in his head and coming up dry.

    "I don't know," Dark said honestly, staring ahead. He hated not knowing—not being ahead of the game. It made him feel weak. Inferior. "I'll know when I see them."

    Xilef simply nodded and left it at that. Dark was grateful for the silence.

    "When this is over, son," rang his mother's words in his head, "you will be thanking me."

    If only Celine could see him now.

Even so... as much as he suffered, and regretted, and loathed Antinstine's existence... he wouldn't be surprised if his mother was awestruck. Proud, even.

Antinstine had become a monster, and as much as Celine advocated for equal power among Evolveds... Dark was sure she'd enjoy the tyranny he brought forth.

Dark deftly touched the earpiece at his ear, waiting for Eyes' next update. He didn't want to think about Celine anymore. As empty as his thoughts were about what he'd do next, he still preferred it over the thought of her.

Dark's fingers lingered on his earpiece. Eyes hadn't spoken for some time. He wondered if she wouldn't be able to find Mark and Antinstine—that they would be stuck here, waiting—having lost another chance at an upperhand.

At his side, Xilef shifted, the grass rustling beneath his feet.

"You've uprooted entire legacies," said Xilef suddenly, breaking the silence—a gesture unlike him. He gazed at Dark through the corner of his eye; his expressions had hardened, but he continued. "The Evolveds know of your power—how you reveal the truth." He turned towards him, and Dark only averted his gaze. "Why haven't you done so with Antinstine?"

A muscle in Dark's jaw twitched, and he closed his eyes with a huff.

"It's too late for that now," he mumbled. "Don't you think?"

Xilef leaned against a nearby tree, examining Dark's figure. His gaze was unrelenting.

"That's not an answer," he said. Dark studied Xilef for a moment, then sighed.

"No one would believe me," he said under his breath, shoulders slumping. Now that the others weren't around, his mask fell; Xilef could see the worn, abused man underneath.

"You remember that broadcast," said Dark, eyes glimmering as he recalled the memory. "How Antinstine lied through his teeth... said I killed my own mother." He glanced over at Xilef. "Whether I reveal his truth or not—anything I say would be seen as trying to take back the 'throne.'" His lip curled in distaste at the word. He kicked a few loose pebbles on the ground and watched them clatter into the underbrush.

"It's just logical," Dark said simply. He let the words hang in the air, heavy.

Xilef shifted and gazed past the treeline, able to spot a few weak auras from Vella, the small village. He hummed.

"And killing him," he said, voice low. His eyes glimmered. "What would that say?"

Dark stilled, his expression going hard. His fists clenched beneath his cloak.

"I have no choice," he breathed, his voice nearing a whisper. Xilef had to strain to hear it, and when he did, his eyes narrowed.

"We all have a choice," said Xilef. "Some just aren't in our favor."

Dark's eyes flashed red, and he glared at Xilef. "What are you getting at, exactly?" he growled, gritting his teeth. He walked up to him, but he didn't flinch. Xilef only stared down at him cooly, brow raised, and crossed his arms with a calm ease, even as Dark's breath ran hot on his throat.

"I'm simply saying," breathed Xilef, tilting his head so their eyes were even, "that perhaps you haven't been thinking things through enough."

Dark's eyes widened, and Xilef had the audacity to smirk.

"Your mother was right about one thing," said Xilef. "Even now, you let your emotions dictate your choices." His breath fanned over Dark's face. "It made sense when you were younger, Dark; but now you're getting old." His lips curled up into a mocking grin, and he tilted Dark's chin up with a finger. "That human's been making you weak."

Dark bristled, and he slapped his hand away. "Why, you—"

    Their earpieces crackled.

    "I've got a lead," came Eyes' voice. Dark hovered a finger over the earpiece, narrowed his eyes at Xilef, then stepped back.

    "Where are they headed?" asked Dark, turning away from Xilef. He could feel his gaze burning into his back.

    "They're going out to the City," said Eyes through the earpiece. "Once they're out of the mansion, I won't be able to give you as reliable coverage." Dark cursed under his breath. "I'll do my best, but the City's firewalls are strong, even for me."

    Dark nodded, and he headed down the worn path, not even sparing a glance towards Xilef.

"Do what you can," said Dark. His hand fell from the earpiece, and he kept onward, heels snapping twigs and debris. Xilef followed close behind, but didn't bother to join Dark's side.

    "Will you kill him?" called Xilef from behind. "Once you see him?" Dark huffed, and he glared over his shoulder, meeting the other's pure-black eyes. Xilef only rose a brow when he didn't answer.

    "Enjoy yourself all you want, Xilef," Dark snapped, storming ahead. "But remind yourself that this isn't some game."

    Xilef's eyes trained on Dark's back, burning into him, and a cold smirk curled on his lips.

Who was he to determine that?

Hehehehe, what are your thoughts? >:)

Thank you so much for reading, and have a wonderful day!

Love,

Kass xoxo