˚ ༘ 𝖂𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝕲𝐀𝐌𝐄 彡
꒰‧⁺ ⇢ ❝ 𝕮𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙾𝙽𝙴 ¡! ❞ ˊˎ
- ̗̀ ๑❪( ◌⁺ ˖˚ ಿ twenty years later.

⋆♱✮♱⋆

──────  &&.   𝕳𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑵𝑫𝑺 𝑶𝑽𝑬𝑹
THE BLEEDING CORPSE, GENEROUS DROPS OF BLOOD DRIPPING FROM HIS KNIFE. It had been over in seconds. The knife slid across the throat like butter. The man was barely able to get halfway through a plea before a pocket of air emptied out of his now smiling throat, sentenced to a silent death. All was quiet in the old, run-down apartment once more.

He stands there a moment longer, staring into the permanently open eyes of a dead man; a sight all too familiar. Blood continues to flow like a river from his neck, a red halo encircling his head: Hell's own version of an angel.

It's the closest humans are ever going to get to heaven now.

Bending down, he places his knife off to the side and begins to rummage through the corpse's pockets: spare bullets, traded cigarettes, a handkerchief that used to be white but is now dulled to a dirty grey, and —

His fleshy fingers grasp onto the rough leather of a wallet — exactly what he's looking for — and opens it casually to see its contents. He's met with smiling faces in a worn, browning photo.

The man bleeding out from below him is embracing a little girl no older than six, both of them wearing cheesy grins for the camera. A woman on his right is kissing his cheek, the arm around his shoulder proudly displaying a costly wedding and engagement ring. The little girl shares a multitude of their features, her eyes the same colour as her dad's while her hair is dark like her mother's. Her dad's hair is grey now, soaking up the crimson waters below.

There's a date scribbled out in the corner of the photo: September 1st, 2003.

Figures, he thought.

Ignoring the photo, he empties the wallet until he successfully stumbles across a folded lump of ration cards. He flicks through the pile with his left thumb, smoothly gliding across the paper like fine silk. His left arm faces the gauzy curtains, barely blocking out the sunlight as metal glimmers and shines into the reflection of the congealed blood glazing the mouldy floors.

Silver fingers stash the cards away in his pocket, satisfied with the space it fills. He just hoped it would be enough to later fill his stomach.

Distant blue eyes flicker down to the lifeless body lying beside him, silently scanning up and down in a routine fashion. A flash of gold exposes itself to the sun, a golden wedding band wrapped tightly around cold, rigid fingers.

He steals it without flinching, without any second thought or remorse, and puts it away with the ration cards as he rises to his feet. One last look around. There's nothing valuable enough to steal. It doesn't come as a surprise to him.

Either way, he takes a raggedy poncho from the man's closet and shrugs it on. It was itchy and had a few holes in it, but hid his gear and weapons well enough so he settled for it.

His knife lightly scrapes against the wood as he picks it up, smoothly pulling it back into its sheath with a flip of his fingers. He's pleased with the fact that he didn't need to waste any bullets this time, as would Enzo. God knows how the man would react if he came back with an empty chamber once more.

Best not dwell on it, he thought as he made his way to the door. The aged hinges creaked with movement, but no one was around to hear it. Everyone was out working by now, doing jobs they would never have dreamed of doing twenty years ago.

He also had the luxury that, should anyone be in the building and cross his path, no one would think to stop him. Nobody cared about anybody these days. All it is is one more body to throw into a limb-piled fire pit, leaving behind nothing but a spare room for someone to trade their credits for.

It was this lack of humanity that carried his steps along the corridor without a sound. Enzo would often joke that he needed to wear a bell so he wouldn't jump every time the younger man snuck up on him, but he knew he would never do it. His silence was what made him such a great asset.

He kept his head down as he stepped into the streets of the Boston Quarantine Zone, hands down by his sides as the poncho hid them from view.

FEDRA soldiers swarmed the place, their faces holding the type of superiority that made you want to slap them. They looked down at you both figuratively and literally, snipers manning the roof consistently nowadays — which may be partly his fault due to his previous escape routes during the night after a kill.

People suspected the mysterious figure used it as means of escaping the QZ, but that wasn't it. He was far smarter than that.

He had only left the zone a few times, when Enzo needed supplies and was assured that he would come back after being in a partnership for years now, but had never used the roof. That's practically asking for a bullet in the back.

The Fireflies weren't his favourite people to rely on, but Enzo trusted them and that was enough (whether he liked it or not). They gave them insights on the best travel routes, areas that FEDRA stayed clear of and where the number of infected were slim to none. It was a helpful alliance, something Enzo made sure to remind him of.

Enzo's connection to the Firelies was through a woman named Marlene, the leader of the notorious group. They had teamed up at the very beginning of the outbreak, each having qualities that would benefit them in the long run and ensure their survival.

Enzo liked their alliance because it offered him outside resources; Marlene liked their alliance because it offered her him.

He had lost count of how many people the Fireflies had sent him to kill, and Enzo would always give him little time to count throughout their twenty-year partnership. According to Enzo, all he needed to know was that they were bad people — just like the man he had killed in the apartment moments ago.

"Ah! There he is! My boy!" He could hear Enzo's voice from a mile away, the words sending a buzz to his eardrums as he walked into the underground bunker the older man called home. Enzo refused to live in a cramped building with others.

It granted them distance from the chaos of FEDRA, hidden away in the Quarantine Zone. Marlene had given it to Enzo — with a hefty price, of course — after the Fireflies found it to be completely empty during one of their raids. It was too small to be a base for them, but just the right size for Enzo and his larger-than-life ideas.

"I take it our friend has been taken care of?" Enzo raised a greying eyebrow at him as he approached, his lips quirking up in their corners. They always did that when he asked that question, because he already knew the answer. He just liked the affirmation, the sense of power.

"Yes, sir." Despite knowing each other for close to two decades now, it was rare for him to address Enzo by his real name.

"I like the new look, you know. At least the guy had taste." Enzo gestured down to the poncho with a chuckle, lightly tugging on the material. His amusement towards the item of clothing didn't last any longer than that, switching into seriousness as he peered over at him through his glasses. "Did you collect anything else during your visit?"

With a nod, he ripped off the poncho and reached into his pocket where the ration cards and wedding ring were stored. He produced both to him, hands held out like a poor beggar.

Enzo snatched them from his grasp, fixing his glasses as he flipped through the number of cards. He let out a short hum, telling the man across from him that it was good enough. Not great, but good enough. He took far more interest in the wedding ring, holding it up between his two fingers with a smile. "Ah. Now this might just do the trick." He said, more to himself than anyone as he beckoned him forward. "Come, my dear boy."

Enzo turned and walked away, and he followed after him like a dog. He knew where they were headed, and the panels of his metal arm clinked together as he tensed up.

Hearing this, Enzo just chuckled. "Don't worry. It won't hurt any more than the last time."

Sweat had already begun to build on his forehead, lips open to release shaken breaths. He couldn't even remember just how badly it hurt last time. He just knew that it hurt . . . a lot.

"Will the ring help?"

Enzo snorted like he just told the funniest joke ever, shaking his head as he approached his proudest creation. "No, my dear boy. The ring will just help to secure the loose dial. We would hate to have a repeat of last time. You were out cold for a good three days."

"Oh." He didn't remember that either, but Enzo always told him he had the worst memory. He couldn't even remember the day he had met Enzo after he had saved his life.

"Yes. Now," He flinched when Enzo undid the straps, a mixture of leather and metal. The Fireflies had stolen them from abandoned hospitals, prisons, and mental asylums. Marlene handed it all over when Enzo explained what he needed them for.

The chair stationed in the corner of the room used to belong to a dentist, looking a bit worse for wear with its patches of loose stuffing and claw marks decorating the armrests — the latter being his own fault.

Enzo had spent years designing the perfect cuffs for the armrest, ensuring that they held his boy down during the convulsions he would get during treatment. The combination of metal and leather did a good job holding up against his left arm specifically, perfectly sculpted to keep him in place whilst the machine did its magic.

His body shook in apprehension as Enzo beckoned him over to sit in the chair. Sensing his hesitance, Enzo sighed the way a disappointed father would. "We've been over this —"

"I feel fine." He stated, swallowing the bile down his throat.

"That's because of this." Enzo emphasised, patting the medium sized box that fuelled his nightmares. "You should be more grateful. Do you not appreciate what I'm doing for you? What I have done for you?"

"Yes. Of course, but —" He didn't get to finish his sentence as Enzo stepped up to him, mouth closing in reaction.

"Then get on the chair." Enzo ordered, his tone stern as he narrowed his eyes, daring him to challenge or question him again.

Enzo never had to ask twice.

   He fell into place like an obedient dog, tail tucked between his legs as he shuffled over. The aged leather squeaked under his hesitant weight, butt hovering for a few seconds as if the skin of the chair was scolding hot. Rigid hands dug into the armrests which more so resembled a cat's scratching post, locking up in anticipation as Enzo circled around him.

   "Good." Enzo secured the straps to his arms and legs, ignoring the tremors and shakes his touch caused his test subject, whose facial expression already told a story of pain. "You and I both know this is all for your own good. Just a few moments of pain, and you'll be right as rain."

  It wasn't a few moments, that he could remember. Through his fuzzed-up mind, he knew that the cause of his humanity hurt like no other; his brain being shot at with as much electricity as he could take without dying.

   In this post apocalyptic world, there was no anaesthetic or muscle relaxers in reach to come and save him: his body felt everything. Every shock was like a stab to his skull, a cut to his nerves, a question to his mind; was it worth it?

   It didn't matter, was what he would tell himself. What mattered was the pain, and that he felt it; that he suffered just like they did.

   Their names and faces had faded over the course of twenty years, but he knew them like the heart knows an old wound; always in mourning.

   Enzo fed him his mouth guard, something that had been added overtime after he had bit down on his tongue numerous of times during treatment. He took his place on the chair beside him, one much less restrictive as he drew the dreaded box closer to him. Enzo wriggled the old wedding ring his apocalypse partner had smuggled from his newest kill onto one of the many dials, tight and secure so it could twist and turn successfully again.

  "See? All fixed." When Enzo talked to him like that, it reminded him of a parent speaking to their child; ridicule hidden behind a soft coo. Enzo knew how worried he had been to get into the chair again after the dial controlling the waves of electricity came off last time, resulting in uncontrolled shocks flowing through his convulsing body until he blacked out.

   It had been horrific, but here Enzo spoke like the event held no weight to him — which wouldn't be too surprising.

Enzo pulls on his dark shoulder-length hair, his head slamming against the headrest in response. The chilling material of a leather belt drapes across his forehead, now tied to the other side of the bed to hold his head in place.

He doesn't fight any of it, still and compliant like a rag doll.

Electrodes are then attached to his head, cold to the touch. He wishes that was the main cause of his shivers, but he knew better as the familiar monster of fear took a bite out of his gut.

The machine gave him the heads up instead of Enzo, the familiar whirr of the machine signalling the upcoming wave of pain he would have to endure until his mind is set right again. Until he's the closest to human as he can get.

His eyes nervously darted to Enzo, who was operating the machine with a stone-cold expression. He never gives him a drop of sympathy to lap up like a thirsty dog, never uttering a soft word for him to claim before it's shocked from his mind like every other time.

In moments like these, he's nothing but a poison, insides rotting like old fruit. His metal hand twitches at the thought.

Shutting his eyes, he prepares for the suffering. He doesn't welcome it like an longtime friend, but he doesn't regard it as a mortal enemy either. Instead, he lets it pass by as a neighbour; something that lives too close yet far enough; something he'll have to open the door and meet again when the time is right.

The suffering locked itself in his head, seeping into the ever-changing flesh like a coat of blood. It smears the remains of his memory, painting them red until his body is nothing but blood personified. He's a vision of violence, a killer backed into a corner by who he is and who he's not; who he remembers and who he forgot.

ZAP!

His body jolts, lurching up against the tight binds he's trapped in. They hold him in place, digging into his skin to redden and bruise.

He shouts against the mouth guard stuffed in his mouth, teeth baring like a rabid dog. His blue pupils are blown wide, chest heaving, pulse jumping erratically.

ZAP!

His muffled shouts extend to agonising groans, his body wriggling against the uncomfortable aged leather seat as it squeaks in displeasure.

His hands dig into the armrests, fingernails clenching until he feels a hard snap of a nail bending.

Black dots drip into his vision, his brain unable to hold up his eyesight through the changing of its currents. He takes this as his signal to close his eyes, squeezing them shut as they tingle.

ZAP!

The whimper he lets out is pitiful, like a wounded animal begging to be put down.

   It shall pass, he hopes. It shall pass, he keeps repeating it in his half-fried mind — a questionable thing to save.

   But perhaps that is the point of it; the fact that all this pain still didn't cure what was rotten. He bore stains that could never be washed away and had a true desire to die.

   But he never indulged in such a thing, purely because he didn't feel worthy of it. Living the way he is, in this diseased world, was the curse he inherited from those two bite marks that now seethe. Inside him, some feral animal claws at his ribcage, trapped, begging to be let out to continue the chain of violence — to contribute to what this world had already made of him.

   A monster. A murderer. Barely a man. Hardly even human.

   ZAP!

   Their faces and names still live deep inside of him, wallpapered in his subconscious, but that wallpaper has decayed and flaked so much over the years that he can never figure out the silhouettes, not until Enzo forces him back into the chair, at least, where the cycle continues.

   The darkness now closes in, signalling the near end of his consciousness. He'll black out soon, and enjoy the only moments of peace he could get — where his mind is forcefully shut down and he's swimming in an endless void where there's nothing. Nothing at all.

   The thought sounds enticing, but he wishes he didn't have to go through so much pain to achieve such a dream. Then again, he's sure he deserves it; no one's ever told him differently, treated him differently.

   Even as he edges into unconsciousness, Enzo keeps the machine going. His eyes are permanently squeezed shut, but he doesn't have to see to know that the man holds no sympathy for him. Enzo has grown used to his screams, his cries. It's nothing but background noise to him, an irritating sound wafting through his ears to touch his impenetrable heart of stone.

   Enzo shows no remorse in shocking his companion, his pet, his slave, his monster.

   One last weak cry and fruitful thrash against the binds signal the near end of his consciousness, the ongoing shocks soon shooting him back into place against the chair as his hands twitch by their sides.

   His mind is fading to that faraway place, that void of nothingness, and he crawls towards it in search for some relief.

   He felt the cold slick of a tear leak from his closed eyelids, and the last thing he could hear over the whirring of the machine was Enzo's demeaning chuckle.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

   "I need him for a job."

   Those were the words that called out to him in the dark, alerting him of his mind switching back on. His body still remains strapped to the chair, limp from all the shocks. Enzo doesn't even move him after he passes out usually, letting him come to where he originally blacked out.

   Even now, his eyelids feel too heavy to open, so he sits with his rubber bones and listens.

   "What kind of job?" The voice belonged to Enzo, who carried his usual all-business attitude when speaking to others about him.

   "Transport. We're moving the girl out of the zone, to the camp out west. Anderson thinks he's finally figured out a cure." A female voice replies, and he thinks he's heard it before. He can't say for sure though, his mind currently swimming high up in the clouds.

   There's a long pause before Enzo speaks, voice low. ". . . You're serious?"

   "Does it look like I'm joking?"

   He hears a long sigh from Enzo's end. "Why him?"

   "Come on, Enzo. I know his track record, the stuff you and I have him do. You think people don't talk around here? I need him."

   "He's just a killer, Marlene. He doesn't smuggle people."

Marlene. The name and voice sounded familiar, but he can't remember why. His head was still swimming in the clouds, fogging up his already blurry memories.

   "I don't need a smuggler. I can do all that. I need a killer, someone as ferocious as those things out there." A heavy weight is quick to settle in the atmosphere, compressing their chests as Marlene's voice strains, "You know I'm right, Enzo. We have a secret weapon here. Might as well use it for something worthwhile instead of just sending him out to kill whoever you want or whoever gives you enough ration cards."

Enzo stays quiet, something one could pin down as hesitance. Marlene takes the opportunity to press on.

"Come on, Enzo. You're one of the few people who know just how important this girl is. You want this just as much as I do; I know you do."

"I know how big of an influence you have over him. I trust you, Enzo, and I trust that he'll listen to you. You tell him to protect her, and he'll do it with no questions asked. I need that. I need someone willing to shed blood without asking for something in return." She adds on, her tone laced with seriousness. "I need someone inhuman."

   "I can't have him be away from me for too long. I won't be able to perform his ECT. He could become erratic and unstable. He's never gone too long without it." Enzo presents in a cautious tone.

   "He won't be too long without it. There are better supplies up west, way better than just a simple shock box."

   "It's not a shock box —"

   "Whatever it is, there's a better alternative where we're headed."

   "And until then?"

   "I'll have my people arrange some sort of electric stimuli at certain checkpoints. It won't be the same, but it'll be enough to reach our destination.

   Enzo doesn't give an immediate response, taking the information in. Even strapped down to a chair, half-conscious, he knows it's not an idea Enzo would immediately turn down. He's not above treating him like an animal.

   Enzo's answer only further proved his point.

   "Fine."

   "We're leaving with the girl tomorrow, so I need him ready for then. Think you can do that?"

   A long pause fills the thick air. "You really think this will work?"

   "I wouldn't be here asking for your help if I didn't."

   "Then consider it done."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

   Ellie. The girl's name is Ellie. Her name is Ellie and she's important. Her name is Ellie and she's somehow immune to the virus. Her name is Ellie and she could be the cure to all of this.

   Her name was Ellie, and he had to keep her alive no matter what.

   Those are all the words Enzo drilled into his head the next morning when meeting up with Marlene again, still feeling the effects of his treatment yesterday as Enzo put him to work. His hands dug uncomfortably against his skin as he pulled him up to leave with a backpack for the journey. He doesn't complain. He doesn't even resist. He knows better than to think he has a say against Enzo.

   "The only thing your mind is good for is killing and following my orders."

   So, he did just that; killed and followed orders. Whatever he could do to repay his debt, to both Enzo and those who he slaughtered that day.

   Marlene walked Enzo over the details for their trip, using an old map for reference. She emphasised to him the strict schedule they were on, the Boston QZ beginning to catch on and station more guards around the area. If they left it any later, it would be impossible to move the girl without any notice.

It had to be tonight.

   All seemed to be running smoothly, but disaster was never far away nowadays. All it took was one trigger-happy sucker to turn a simple battery exchange into a full-blown shootout.

   He was quick to react when he saw the guy, Robert as Marlene had addressed him as, reach for his gun. The henchmen were soon to follow, rapidly firing at the group standing across from them.

   People were dropping to the floor almost as quickly as the bullets were as they whipped past, feeling the rapid rift in the air as they ducked for cover.

   With swift reflexes, his mind went into autopilot as he grabbed onto Enzo and pulled him behind the wall at the end of the hallway for cover. Once done, he reaches for his gun tucked by his waist with his left, metal arm.

   He's a better shot right-handed, his dominant hand, but he had taught himself to be just as deadly with his metal fingers pulling the trigger.

   Keeping himself hidden enough round the corner, he kept his peeks to a minimum as he turned his arm their way and started firing.

   He heard a groan, followed by a hard thud. Hit.

   The bullets kept firing, bouncing against the harsh metal of his metal arm every now and then. They were powerless against it, having no skin to sink into.

   Marlene was barking out orders, but he paid no mind to her. All he considered was the number of people alive across from them, counting them in his head with every bullet he fired.

   He knew from the pattern of groans and grunts that followed after a shot that he had landed a few successful hits, the firing from the opposing side decreasing bit by bit.

   His gun clicked when he tried to fire again. Empty. He let out a brief growl in frustration, ducking fully behind the wall as he double checks to make sure it wasn't just jammed. He was met with an empty bullet chamber.

   Peeking round the corner, he noticed that only one guy was left standing. He was firing two guns, one stolen from his dead buddy on the floor. The guy had poor aim, hands shaking too much from the fear of going down like his fellow friends.

   He was quick to reach for his hunting knife, pleased with his single target. Unsheathing it carefully, he noted the time between shots.

   He heard footsteps drawing closer, the guy closing in to secure a better hit. All it revealed was that the guy was getting desperate and low on ammo.

   The aged floorboards creaked under his weight, and he took that opportunity to strike.

   In a combined motion, he twisted himself back into sight. His metal arm held firm by his face, a small shield whilst his dominant hand wielded the knife.

   He grunted as he swung it fiercely, the handle slipping from his hand as it flew the short distance between him and the attacker before landing directly into his skull.

   Robert's last man standing staggered back, the pair of guns clattering to the floor. His eyes were wide, soon becoming unfocused as a trail of red began to run down the middle of his face. Seconds later, his body gave up on him and collapsed to the floor, his blood mixing in with the rest of his group.

   Silence fell upon the hallway, the only sounds being laboured breathing and rushed heartbeats. He chose to focus on the latter, rather enjoying the sound. The sound of being alive; of being human.

   In steady steps, he stalked towards the pile of bodies. They were well and truly dead, the last death rattle fading into the air as he bent down to retrieve his knife.

   He took no issue in ripping it out, having to use force to separate the blade from bone and flesh. It released back into his grasp, the silver blade now painted a deep crimson as it leaked onto the floor.

   "Well," Marlene was first to speak up, voice drifting through heavy breaths. When he turned to face her, he noticed Marlene's hand palming — very noticeably — a gaping hole in her side. Blood coated in splotches on her arms and neck but mostly it was found on her navy tank top, turning it a murky, foul, brown colour. "That didn't go to plan."

   "No shit." He heard Enzo groan back, still hidden from behind the wall.

   The sound rang off alarm bells as he soon discovered Enzo had been hit in the leg just before he had dragged him back for cover. Instantly, he knelt in front of him to inspect the wound whilst Marlene and her Firefly accomplice limped over to check the battery they were supposed to be trading for.

   He paid no mind to them. Marlene's frustrations about it being faulty meant nothing to him at that moment as he gazed down at Enzo's wound.

   All his eyes could stay locked on was the leaks of blood from the bullet wound, which more resembled a mini black hole now as it sucked his mind into a trance of sorts.

   A hard hit landed on his cheek, the forceful impact of the hand making his head whirl to the side. It did nothing to ease his ears, which were already ringing from the previous gunshots as his skin reddened with the imprint of a hand. A mark on Enzo's territory, a mark his skin had donned more than once.

   Through the drapes of his unkempt hair, he could see Enzo glaring down at him.

   "What kind of protection was that?! Thanks to you, I now have a fucking bullet in my goddamn leg!"

   He doesn't say anything, always lacking the words to communicate with Enzo. He stares. It makes Enzo roll his eyes, but he knows he would just be getting another hit if he did talk back. Enzo was never one to be pleased easily by him.

   "Shit." Marlene groans in pain ahead of them, her Firefly companion trying to assist her with her balance despite not looking in any better shape herself. Even from here, the rush of blood flowing down her ear area was clear as it shone under the lights. They had clearly taken big hits.

   Perhaps that's why he is the only one to pick up on the noise. It's faint, barely a whisper in the world of echoes, but he picks up on it.

   The sound of footsteps shuffling closer.

   His posture tenses, gaze darkening as he moves swiftly. He's up on his feet in seconds, grabbing Enzo's discarded gun and aiming as he whirls around.

   He's met with a pair of hardened, dark-brown eyes. They belong to the face of a rugged-looking man, who appears older than him by a few years as suggested by the grey hairs appearing on his hair, moustache and light stubble sprinkled across his chin.

They both stand still.

   They stare directly at each other, neither daring to break eye contact as the barrel of their guns remain poised and aimed. Both of their fingers dance across the trigger, waiting for the other to make their move.

   The moment only lasted a few seconds, but these type of things feel like a lifetime as your heart clings to your chest. The silence that falls is a bullet in its own right, piercing through your mind as you're left with the thought that these few seconds are life or death; to kill or be killed.

   He had no hesitation in what answer he would choose, especially with Enzo watching so close.

   Just as his finger pulled back to release a shot, the door to the side of the man ripped open.

   A young girl, a teenager, let out a yell as she charged forward with a knife in hand, ready to attack. The man reacted quick, shifting his body to the side and using that momentum to slam the girl into the wall. The knife fell from her hands when she met the floor with a hard thud.

   The commotion alerted Marlene and the Firefly, who swiftly turned to point their guns as a natural instinct. Enzo watched from his place on the floor, eyes switching between what seemed to be another standoff.

   Thankfully, this one didn't seem to be heading in the direction of the last one as Marlene's brow knits in recognition.

   "Joel?"

   "Marlene?" The man now named Joel confusedly says back, his gun aimed at the young girl on the floor whilst his attention remains on the adults before him.

   Keeping her gun up, Marlene's gaze shifts down to the girl. "You okay?"

   "Yeah." She says, panting slightly. Her eyes stay locked on Joel, reaching out to retrieve her fallen knife. Joel's boot slamming on the silver blade stops that from happening.

   "Ellie . . . Ellie." Marlene gently calls out, trying to calm the girl down as she seethes at Joel. It reminded him of when he and Enzo first met, like a trainer trying to calm a wild animal.

Her name clicks in his mind, head tilting in a barely noticeable gesture. So this was Ellie.

   Marlene's words seemed to work well enough, Ellie turning to look at her only to tense up when she notices Marlene's bleeding wounds. "Oh shit."

   "No, it's okay. I'll be all right." Marlene assures her, features soon falling in disappointment as she follows up with a sigh. "You can't be stupid like this."

   The grip on his gun tightens when he hears another set of footsteps approaching, a woman around the same age as Marlene coming into view. Her features twist in annoyance when she sees them.

   "So this is who Robert screwed us over with? The Che Guevara of Boston?" She scoffs, shaking her head at their predicament. By "us", he assumes she must be with Joel to some capacity, partners.

   "Yeah, it kinda has been." Marlene comments flatly, clearly not in the mood for any of this. "The merch was bad, and he obviously didn't take "fuck off" for an answer."

   "I told you not to make deals with him." Enzo stated in an 'i-told-you-so' manner, which earned him a sharp glare from Marlene.

   "Give me my knife." Ellie suddenly mutters up at Joel irritably.

   "What do you need a car battery for?" He ignored her, only turning to point his gun down when she reached for the knife under his boot. "Don't."

   "Not at her." Marlene demanded sternly, her and the fellow Firefly defensively drawing their guns again. The woman stood behind Joel pointed hers up in turn. "Point it at me."

   The tension in the air increased, a silence filling the space between the seven of them. Joel cautiously raised his gun back up to Marlene, who seemed relieved that he was no longer pointing it at the girl as she spoke.

   "And to answer your question, I need it for a better reason than you do. No offense, but Tommy's just one man. It's our business to know things."

   "To know things?" Joel quoted, eyebrows knitting together in a flash of anger. "You're the cause of it. You turned my own brother against me."

   Marlene rolls her eyes. "Okay, Joel."

   "You know these smugglers?" Enzo questions, nose turned up in disgust at the mere sight of them. It wasn't surprising; Enzo always liked to believe he was above others, his acts of survival somehow making him more righteous than others.

   "It's a long story."

   "That was a lot of gunfire." The woman beside Marlene warns, turning to her leader. He could see from her side profile that her ear had been almost completely blown off, whats left being coated in thick layers of chunky flesh and blood. "FEDRA's gonna be on the way."

   "I know." Marlene nods, voice drifting off in thought. She addresses Joel and Tess. "We were gonna move Ellie out of the zone tonight, but we won't make it anywhere like this. Not for a while anyway. So now I'm thinkin' . . . you're gonna do it."

   "The hell we are."

   "I'm not going with them!"

   "You're out of your mind."

   "Let me take her."

   The reactions from Joel, Ellie, Enzo, and the Firedly woman didn't deter Marlene in the slightest it seems.

   Glancing over his shoulder, Joel shook his head at the woman he was with. "Tess, we don't have time for this."

   "Oh, you don't have time?" The words seemed to peeve Marlene, who raised her voice.

   "Who is she?" The woman, Tess, nods over to Ellie.

   "To you? She's cargo."

   "We don't smuggle people. Sorry." Joel says, his tone not sounding apologetic in the slightest.

   "I can do it." The Firefly woman tried to protest, only for Marlene to cut her off.

   "Kim, you don't have a fuckin' ear on your fuckin' head. Could you please?" Kim's head hangs low, knowing Marlene had a point. She continues. "There's a team of Fireflies waiting for her at the old State House."

   Joel is quick to scoff.

   "I know what's out there." Marlene quickly presses on, trying to convince them. "We were going with an entire squadron for that very reason but now I don't have a truck, I don't have a squadron, FEDRA's five minutes away."

   "What I do have is you." Marlene states, her gaze shifting from Joel and Tess until she's looking directly into a pair of cold blue eyes that cause her lips to purse. "And him."

   "Marlene —" Enzo tries to interject, but he's cut off also.

   "I know what you three are capable of." Marlene adds, attention dancing between Joel, Tess and himself. "For better or worse."

   Ellie's eyes fill with concern, looking between them as she whispers softly, "What are they capable of?"

   "You get her there safely, and they'll give you what you need. Not just a battery. The whole thing. Fueled-up truck, guns, supplies, all of it. I swear." A tense silence fills the hallway, Joel and Tess's faces unchanging. "I swear."

   Joel and Tess glance at each other, exchanging silent words as Tess jerks her head back. Joel walks up to her so they can discuss it together, but not before kicking Ellie's knife further away with his boot.

   "Asshole!"

   Meanwhile, Enzo and Marlene were having their own debate from behind him. He listened in on their hushed whispers.

   "Marlene, he can't go with them."

   "Why?"

   "In case it isn't blatantly obvious, I have a fucking bullet hole in my leg. I won't be able to make the trip."

   "I know . . . so he'll just have to go without you."

   "No. That wasn't what we agreed on."

   "My hands are tied, Enzo. We don't have any other options."

   "Just let the smugglers take her."

   "Don't be ridiculous. You and I both know he'll do us much more good out there than he ever will in here."

   "I don't trust those two with him."

   "Well, I do. Joel and Tess are a lot of things, but they aren't stupid. They'll know that he's useful and keep him around. Besides, I know your buddy over than can handle himself just fine should anything break out between them."

   ". . . He's never been apart from me for that long, Marlene. I can't risk —"

   "It won't happen. The trip should only take them a few days at most. Like I said yesterday, I'll have my guys arrange something at checkpoints. He'll be fine; he only has to make it to the old State House with them."

   Enzo is silent, so Marlene speaks again.

   "I need him to protect her. Remember what we're doing this for."

   Enzo doesn't get the chance to respond as Tess walks back over to them.

   "Okay. Here's the deal." Tess begins, all business as she gets straight to the point. "We'll get her to your crew at the State House. But before we hand her over, they give us everything that we want. If not, we kill her, there and then."

   "Deal."

   "Really? That fast?" Ellie exclaims to Marlene, eyes wide.

   "You are all that matters. My team will not jeopardise that. Remember what I told you? Now go get your backpack." Ellie stares at the wall ahead of her, shaking her head in disbelief. "Now, Ellie."

   With a very teenager-like sigh, Ellie gets up and strides back into the room she came running out of moments earlier.

   As she rummages around to gather her things, the group of adults on either side of the hallway stare at each other tensely.

   He and Joel lock eyes again, prompting the older man to speak up.

   "So what? Is he cargo too?" Joel questions, gesturing with his gun to the mysterious stranger as he raises his eyebrows at Marlene.

   "He's an asset." Enzo answers him instead, voice stern as he leans against the wall for support due to his leg.

   Joel narrows his eyes. "We're not taking care of two people. It's bad enough that we need to keep her alive out there."

   Enzo laughs, throwing his head back. "Oh, you don't need to worry about keeping him alive. He can handle himself out there just fine. After all," He trails off, clearly getting a kick out of this as he staggers forward.

   He flinches when Enzo's hand lands on his shoulder, his left one. He doesn't fight against the hold as Enzo rolls up the long sleeves of his tattered shirt, exposing the hard metal in its full, distinguishable glory.

   Joel's chest visibly tightens, swallowing thickly as he stares at it with a masked expression. Enzo savours every bit of it.

   "You're looking right at the Silver Hunter, my friend."

   By luck, Ellie re-emerges from the room, bag in hand. She takes in the scene she stepped into, eyes widening at the sight of the metal arm. Looking at Marlene with uncertainty, the older woman nods as she shuffles to go with Joel, Tess and now this so called "Silver Hunter".

   Enzo drops his arm and shoves him forward, causing him to stagger before recollecting himself. He looks at him, face blank as the man stares right back at him.

   No words were needed. He could read Enzo's mind better than his own — which wasn't saying much but still.

   Either way, Marlene was already vocalising the same thoughts to Joel.

   "Don't fuck this up."

   Don't fuck this up.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

   Joel and Tess were quick to shove their two new additions into a room when they brought them back to where they lived, slamming the door shut behind them to speak privately — much to Ellie's annoyance as she cursed them out.

   He glared at the wooden door they had slammed in his face, arms crossed over his chest as he stood vigilantly by the door in silence.

   Well . . . it was silent until Ellie spoke up.

   "So," the young girl trails off, swaying gently in her spot as she looks at the brooding man. "You got a name?"

   He stares at her, unmoving.

   "Usually, after that question, you tell people your name." Ellie huffs out, giving him a look. "Come on. I gotta call you something, and I'm not gonna refer to you as that Silver Hunter bullshit or whatever they called you back there."

   He blinks at her.

   "Definitely not much of a talker, are you?" Ellie whispers under her breath, rolling her eyes slightly.

   She thinks for a moment, pursing her lips before shrugging. "I guess I'll just call you Hunter."

   "Don't."

   "Ah. So he speaks." Ellie grins at the words,
"Well, if you tell me your real name, I won't. Unless you want me to pick out a different name for you." She trails off playfully, lips quirking up in mischief. "And I don't think you'd like my other options."

   He genuinely doesn't know how to react to that, furrowing his brows as he catches onto the warning in her tone, as if challenging him to let her choose another name for him — one which would undoubtedly be far less fitting and appropriate.

   He doesn't challenge her, sighing through his nose as he glances back at the door.

   Ellis smirks in success, picking up a book of sorts from one of the tables. He doesn't care enough to see what it is as she flicks through it. "Hunter it is."

Another moment of silence passes between them, save from the occasional flick of a page. He didn't anticipate Ellie speaking to him again, much less in the quiet tone she did with an air of hesitancy which seemed unlike her from what he had gathered.

"Do you know?"

He turns to her, taking in her expression. Her brown eyes flicker down to the book she was holding, glancing over at him briefly before looking back down. She bit the inside of her cheek nervously, wondering if she should've said anything at all.

He can see the cogs of her mind turning, trying to figure him out. He knows she'll have no luck with that; not even he could figure himself out at times.

Still, her question is understandable enough. He was only half-associated with the Fireflies through Enzo, so either outcome could've been possible in her eyes.

And, though his brain is still recovering from what it received earlier, he understands what exactly she's asking him. No need to elaborate.

"Yeah." He tells her simply, letting his gaze dance over to the rolled down sleeve of her right arm. Ellie caught it, steadily inhaling as she does. He's unsure if she's relieved or worried. "I know."

Silence falls once more, allowing them to hear the muffled chatter of Joel and Tess on the other side of the door. They're debating whether to take  long or short way, choosing the former. Joel makes a comment about stopping by Bill and Frank's on the way for supplies.

   They both agreed to leave after dark, which made sense. It's easier to sneak around the FEDRA soldiers in the dead of night, which makes your odds of sneaking in and out alive better.

   When the door opens again. Joel steps in, appearing lost as Tess tells him to stay, leaving him with Ellie and "Hunter".

   "Wait. Why do I have to . . . Tess." The woman doesn't respond as she leaves the man to his own devices, much to Joel's displeasure. "Tess!

   "So, who's Bill and Frank?" Ellie wonders, still holding the book in her hands.

   Joel doesn't answer her. Glancing between him and Hunter, Ellie rolls her eyes at somehow having this same conversation, or lack thereof, twice.

"Geez. You two are sure big conversationalists, aren't you?"

   Returning her eyes back to the book, she scans along the passages as she speaks, "The radio's a smuggling code, right? '60s song, they don't have anything new, '70s, they got new stuff. What's '80s?" Again, Joel doesn't answer as he walks over to the aged couch stationed in the room. "What are you doing?"

   "Killin' time." Joel lies down, closing his eyes as he tries to get comfy. His voice is gruff and blunt, clearly disinterested in answering any of Ellie's questions.

   Ellie frowns, gesturing between her and Hunter. "Well, what are we supposed to do?"

   "I'm sure you'll figure that out."

"Your watch is broken." Ellie quips as if that were some kind of comeback to the man's words.

The three strangers settled themselves in silence once again after that, each having their own corner of sorts. Ellie was the furthest, tucked in the corner of the room as she settled herself by the window to look at the scenery — not that there was much to admire.

Joel is stationed in the middle, draped across the couch as his chest gently rises and falls in the pattern of sleep. The hand with his broken watch lies on his chest, right next to his heart as he sleeps with light, incoherent murmurs here and there.

And Hunter? Hunter sat closest to the door, the exit and entrance. His eyes are straight and focused, like a guard dog. He did nothing and said nothing, his only movements being his blinks as he waited for dark to fall on them.

The only time he peeled his eyes away was in confusion when a tune unexpectedly flew through the room, a man singing over the radio.

"Wake me up before you go-go
Don't leave me hanging on like a yo-yo
Wake me up before you go-go
I don't wanna miss it when you hit that high"

"What the fuck," Ellie whispers, features twisting at the song. She looks to Hunter, Joel still fast asleep. "What is this?"

"A song."

Ellie rolls her eyes, flicking through the pages in the book. "I know it's a song, dipshit, but what era? 60's? 70s?"

"Wake me up before you go-go
'Cause I'm not planning on going solo
Wake me up before you go-go
Take me dancing tonight
I wanna hit that high
Yeah, yeah"

"80s." Hunter catches himself off guard when he answers, looking away and going back to staring at the door.

How did he remember that?

In all honesty, he didn't know. It fell from his lips before he could register the question like it was some knee-jerk reaction he didn't even know he had.

Even when the song came to an end, he still didn't have an answer. His brows twitched, a very faint flicker of confusion crossing his face before it flattened back to normal.

Best not to dwell on it, as Enzo would usually say.

Joel would later wake up with a start, having slept right up until dark. The quick motion of the older man had Hunter taking a defensive stance, hand subconsciously twitching for his knife.

Joel noticed, glancing up from his hand to his face with a grumpy expression. Hunter didn't react any differently to it, hand returning back to his side slowly as he stared right back.

"You mumble in your sleep." Ellie speaks up, cutting the two's eye contact off as she stares out the window.

"I've never been on the other side of the Wall."

"Look how dark it is."

"You guys go out there a lot?"

Clearly neither of the two men were impressed by her rush of questions as Joel sighs tiredly, leaning back. "I guess."

"When was the last time?"

"Maybe a year."

Ellie's eyes dance over to Hunter. "What about you?"

"About the same." He keeps his words tight and short, nodding along.

He doesn't tell her that he can barely remember that time, the memories all fuzzed up due to his treatments with Enzo. The only way he can really recall it is because he has a scar to remember it by.

That's how he usually remembers occasions like that, his body telling a story his mind could not.

"What's it matter?" Joel wonders to Ellie, that crease between his brows tightening as he frowns.

"But you know where to go." Ellie ignores his question, and Hunter could see the weight of apprehension settling on her shoulders as she looks between the two men. "So we're gonna be okay."

"Yeah." Joel states, clearly not sharing the same worries as he eyes her curiously. "So, what's the deal with you anyway? You some kinda bigwig's daughter or somethin'?"

"Something like that."

She and Hunter happen to lock eyes at that moment, carrying the weight of a nonverbal conversation.

"Oh, the radio came on when you were sleeping." Ellie blurts out to Joel, tearing her gaze away from Hunter as his cold blue eyes lock on Joel, who is oblivious to the two's secrets.

Her words happen to spark his interest however, tilting his head as a light wave of surprise washes over him. "What?" He stops leaning back against the couch, shifting forward in a movement of eagerness. "What was the song?"

"He kept sayin', like, like, "Wake me up before you go-go"?" Ellie repeats features scrunched up in confusion as she repeats the lyrics that she and Hunter had to listen to whilst the man slept.

Joel's face falls, head turning down as he softly curses, "shit."

"Gotcha." Ellie's lips tilt in a smile. Joel looks up, confused. "80s means trouble. Code broken."

"Listen —"

The door suddenly opens, Hunter reaching for his knife once again only to realise it was just Tess returning.

"The spot under Lancaster looks good." She tells Joel, eyes crossing over to Ellie and Hunter. "You two got a jacket in your pack?"

"Yeah." Ellie says through a nod, Hunter doing the same but silently.

Tess seems pleased enough, nodding with them as she speaks, "Okay, get it. It's time to go."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

   The Quarantine Zone was more chaotic than usual during night, operations in full swing as sirens buzz, helicopters whirl, and speakers announce,

"Observe mandatory curfew to fight the infection and insurrection. Observe mandatory curfew to fight the infection and insurrection."

The rain pounds down on the four of them as Tess leads the pack, Hunter staying at the back behind Ellie as Joel walks in front of her.

The three adults held their guns close, cautious eyes scanning the area as they snuck around in the dark.

Ellie looked like a kid in a candy store as her eyes took in everything occurring around her. "Holy shit. I'm actually outside."

Hunter grabbed the sleeve of her jacket, tugging her forward when her steps grew too slow for his liking. Ellie shot him a glare before shrugging him off, going back to her usual pace.

"Jesus Christ." They heard Tess mutter under her breath. Whether the words were referring to Ellie or the hectic nature of the QZ around them, they weren't sure. It could well be both.

"Okay, we're gonna take the left edge around the buffer zone." The woman continued, turning to face Joel, Ellie and Hunter. The three nodded in agreement, Tess looking at Ellie mainly. "You stay close and you follow my lead."

"Yeah. Yeah, of course." Ellie nodded, being serious for once. She clearly understood that this was no joking matter as the three adults smuggled her around.

"Let's go."

The four of them made sure to lay low as they walked, the rain and thunder unyielding. Tess remained in front, successfully going undetected until they rounded a wall and crossed paths with an unsuspecting FEDRA guard.

"What the hell?" The guard, who had previously been urinating on the wall, frantically worked to zip up his trousers. "Hey, hey! Don't move!"

The four of them panicked, frantically scanning for an exit to run to, but the guard had already pulled his gun out on them.

"Don't move!"

Tess, Joel, and Ellie raised their hands up. Hunter hesitated, fingers itching for his gun as he tried to calculate whether he could take a shot before the guard. The chances were unlikely, and he knew he couldn't risk Ellie getting caught in the crossfire if the FEDRA guy shot first. He begrudgingly raised his hands up also.

The thunder illuminated their faces as the guard paused, pulling up the clear visor of his helmet. His gaze locked on Joel in recognition. "You gotta be shittin' me."

Joel seemed to recognise him too, quickly trying to negotiate. "Okay, let's talk this out."

"Turn around."

"Hold on —"

"Get on your fuckin' knees." Neither of them complied, the guard raising his gun higher. "Get on your fuckin' knees!"

"Now hold on —"

"What did I fuckin' tell you, man? I said stay the fuck home." The guard told Joel, Ellie shifting uncomfortably behind him and Hunter. "Get on your knees!"

Tess sighed, looking at the three of them as she began bending down. "Just get on your knees, just get on your knees."

"Listen, you let us do this run, we'll split the cards with you." She told the guard, Joel, Hunter, and Ellie following her lead as they got on their knees.

"Oh, will you?" The FEDRA guard didn't sound too tempted by the offer.

"Yeah."

"I'm so blessed." He rolled his eyes before barking out orders. "Hands on your head. Eyes forward. Hands on your head!"

He took a scanner out of his pocket, Hunter registering it immediately. Both he and Ellie tensed up, Joel and Tess not noticing as Tess rolled her eyes.

"Really, man?"

"Yep. We're doin' this by the book."

"Jesus Christ." Tess muttered, letting the guard scan the back of her neck regardless as it let out a zapping sound. The scanner lit up green. "All right. What about three-quarters?"

"Unauthorized exit. They'll hang you for that."

"Fine. Everythin' off of this run, and half off on all of the pills." Joel butted in as the guard moved down the line and onto him next, Ellie and Hunter beside him.

"Half off?"

The scanner turned green for Joel.

"All off. Risk my job for half off." The guard muttered under his breath, moving on to Ellie. "Outta your fuckin' mind . . ."

Ellie glanced over at Hunter in panic and, for some unknown reason, the man found himself freezing under her stare as the thunder clapped around them.

Ellie's eyes were wide and fearful, reminding Hunter of just how young she was as she looked to him for some sort of solution.

The look felt oddly familiar to Hunter, but he didn't know why. All he knew was that it chilled his bones ice cold and made his stomach churn and tighten as he tensed up.

Where had he seen that look before?

Before anything else could come to him, Hunter was snapped out of his weird daze when Ellie suddenly reacted.

Just as the scanner zapped the back of her neck, Ellie let out a scream as she stabbed the FEDRA guard in the leg with her knife and got to her feet.

Hunter, Joel, and Tess scrambled to get up with her as the guard cursed wildly in pain, pulling the knife from his leg.

"Arghh! Fuckin' bitch! Fuck!" The guard groans, throwing the knife to the ground and automatically raising his weapon at Ellie.

A shot rings out, Hunter reacting in a split second. His reflexes are quick as he pulls Ellie by the arm, the bullet narrowly missing her by a hair as it lodges in the ground.

Hunter whips his head around and glares at the guard, a murderous look in his eye as his fingers go for his gun only to be interrupted by movement out of the corner of his eye.

Ellie being shot at seemed to trigger something within Joel, who immediately put himself between her and the FEDRA guard as Hunter keeps her close to him. He stands firm, much to the guard's irritation.

"Get out of the fuckin' way!"

"Whoa, whoa!" Joel keeps his hands raised, trying to salvage the situation. "We can fix this."

"Move."

The thunder and rain filled the tense silence that followed, Joel tensing up as his breathing began to thicken with his lip beginning to shiver. It seemed something was running through his mind, muscles much more rigid than usual.

He doesn't move, prompting the guard to advance forward with his gun. "Move!"

The action flipped an unknown switch in Joel, who released a yell as he rushed forward and tackled the man to the ground. The FEDRA guard was completely taken aback as Joel got on top of him, pining him down as he swung his fist down in swift punches.

The guard didn't stand a chance, red beginning to cover more of his face than the colour of his skin as his motions ceased altogether.

Out of the corner of his eye, Hunter saw a shift. He turned his head, eyes widening when he saw Tess reaching for the scanner the FEDRA guard had dropped after Ellie had stabbed him.

His eyes widened, rushing forward.

Tess was closer to the scanner, beating him to it as she snatched up the item. The red glow illuminated her face as she froze, features dropping in horror. She completely ignored Hunter, who felt hopeless as Tess stared up at Ellie.

As if sensing the eyes on her, Ellie turned her head. She too froze when she saw the red light emitting from the scanner, but for an entirely different reason. She frantically began shaking her head.

"No, no! No, I'm not sick!"

"Joel!" Tess yells out to her smuggling partner, who had finally stopped punching the now deceased guard as he breathed heavily. He turned his head, Tess showing him the scanner that revealed Ellie's monstrous secret. "Joel!"

"I am not sick! I'm not sick!" Ellie urgently insisted from behind Hunter, pulling up the sleeve of her right arm to reveal a scar that didn't line up with the usual stages of infection at all as she showed it to the woman. "Look! Look! This is three weeks old. Nobody lasts more than a day! Does this look a day old to you?! You would've killed me!"

Tess discards the scanner, roughly grabbing Ellie's arm to inspect it. Even in the darkness, she could see the wound and it's lack of freshness. Still, her teeth gritted with a fearing anger. "I should fucking kill you! When did it happen?"

"It doesn't matter! You have to trust me! They're gonna catch us if we don't run!"

The sound of distant sirens soon followed Ellie's words, Tess's eyes widening as she rushed up to her feet and began pulling Ellie with her. "Joel, we gotta move. We gotta move, Joel! Joel!"

Joel got up, snatching the FEDRA guard's gun as he went. He and Hunter briefly met eyes as they passed, Hunter making sure to put himself between him and Ellie as they ducked under a broken chain link fence.

The four of them ran out of the QZ, boots splashing on the wet ground caused by the heavy rain as they began to put as much distance between them and the zone as possible.

Hunter looks behind him, the area growing more and more distant to his eyes as he ran. The look Enzo gave him and Marlene's words before he left were engraved in his mind as he followed Joel, Ellie, and Tess through the desolate land, weapons held close.

Don't fuck this up.

He couldn't afford to fuck this up.

: : ❛ 𝓐𝙐𝙏𝙃𝙊𝙍 𝓝𝙊𝙏𝙀 ❜ : :
╰───╮; finally got around to finishing this bad boy! sorry for the late update, been super busy with schoolwork and life. you know how it is.

also, due to this being a work of fiction, descriptions of electroconvulsive therapy (ect) have been dramatised/twisted to fit the storyline. i am not a medical professional by any means, so don't take any of this as factual information.

this chapter is quite long, so thank you for reading if you made it this far! it really means a lot to me!

thank you sm for your patience again! votes and comments are very much appreciated if you're liking this fic! don't be a stranger!

thank you for reading!
love you all!

∴ ✷ ❱ · TRGDYCOILS !! ━━━━
( 10.5k words )