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Summary
Zanka, badly injured and on the verge of death, is rescued by an unlikely savior, though it remains to be seen if it will end up being a blessing or a curse for him.
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There was no playing nice with Jabber, there was only violence. The promise of it made his knees weak.
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Zanka has been tasked with keeping Jabber distracted. Things take a turn that he wasn’t expecting. -
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"GREAT! Just great! As if this could GET any better!" Zanka bites out, seething. Of course he's stuck here, injured, in a damp, dirty cell, and of course he's stuck here with fucking Jabber of all people.
Jabber whistles appreciatively, "Man, you're in a mood today. Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?" and cackles at his own joke. Zanka's gonna strangle him. He's gonna rip out those bars with his bare hands and use them to beat Jabber to death.
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Zanka is taken by some people who want to study givers. Jabber is there too. This somehow makes everything both better and so much worse.
Disclaimer: do NOT feed my work into generative AI or I will fucking GET you.
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La•cu•na (n)
a blank space, a missing part“Zanka?” Enjin calls again, “You… you hit your head pretty hard.”
“No shit, with this headache,” Zanka grumbles. He glances up at Zodyl, pulling a face, and carefully wiggles out of his hold, standing on his own two feet. He sways a bit, then says, “Who the hell are you people?”
Interesting. Zodyl’s mind begins spinning, ideas and experiments spilling into his thoughts as Zanka assesses both them and the Cleaners with an unfamiliar gaze.
“Kyouka,” he says then, “What… what’s going on?”
On a joint mission with the Hellguard, Zanka takes a hit to the head. Zodyl sees an opportunity and takes it.