Chapter Text
“Agh! FUCK!” Josh Bell (aka Rage) shouts as the man hits him. In his mind’s eye, he can already see his countermove. He’ll use the momentum from being knocked back by the punch to spin himself around, send a kick flying into-
He stumbles and falls onto the ground, letting out a short cry of surprise.
The man produces a knife – from where, Josh can’t say – and holds it up, letting the sunlight glint off the cold metal blade. Josh lets out a totally, incredibly manly scream that in no manner whatsoever resembles that of a little girl and frantically crawls away.
“Hey now!” he shouts. “This isn’t how you’re supposed to do things! I mean, if you’re going to mug someone, you’re supposed to demand they give you money – that’s the entire bloody point! You don’t just pull a knife on them and hope they do what you want! You are the worst mugger I’ve ever-“ The man dashes forward, covering the distance between the two of them, and swings the knife downwards. “-AUGH!”
Josh lowers himself down to the ground on instinct, and the knife passes over his chest harmlessly. He somehow manages to scramble to his feet, and turns and runs. Or, well, he tries, but the other man sweeps a kick at his legs, and he’s tripped and falls to the ground again. Josh is a bit jealous. He wishes he could do stuff like that.
He can’t really see what’s going on at the moment, so he rolls over to his back, letting himself look up at his attacker. The man raises the knife once again.
“I mean, I just feel like this is a little excessive, you know?” Josh frantically says. “Cause, like, if you kill the guy you’re mugging, you can’t-“
His assailant brings the knife down, and Josh just barely rolls out of the way. He gets the feeling that maybe this guy isn’t a mugger. Just a possibility.
Josh looks at the man. He’s tall, a good bit taller than Josh himself, and his hair is way too long for any reasonable man to have. Really, he looks like some sort of bargain bin version of Sephiroth. Only… with a knife instead of a sword, and with brown hair, and with semi-reasonable dark green clothing, and with shorter (though still way too long!) hair, and nowhere near as handsome. OK, so maybe not quite like Sephiroth.
The mugger-slash-murderer-slash-attacker-slash-mysterious-bad-guy-slash-whatever prepares a strike with the knife once more, but Josh has a plan this time. He’ll kick the guy’s legs out from under him, then, as he falls down to the ground, he’ll twist the knife out of his hand while he’s surprised and fight him off with it. It’s a foolproof strategy.
Josh kicks at the attacker’s feet. It has no effect–
i_ bu_n_
–no effect whatsoever.
Oh, he thinks. Well, damn it. And… wait. What the hell was that thought?
Before Josh can think about it any more, a familiar voice rings out from somewhere nearby. “Uh… what the hell is going on here?”
The man turns to the person talking. Josh does the same, and his eyes widen in recognition.
“Hollow?!” he yells. (Josh does. Not the man. Just so it’s clear.)
“My name’s Aaron,” Hollow (or Aaron, whatever) grumbles. “But, seriously… what the hell’s happening here?”
The assailant hesitates for a moment, and then—
th_r___ _ h_le i_ h__ bo__ __d i_ bu_n_
—and then runs away.
Josh follows him with his gaze. “Yeah!” he yells. “Get destroyed!”
Hollow’s face falls, and a heavy sigh escapes his mouth.
|||
Cotton (aka Dyno, aka Dynosour, real name basically unknown) sits in his house (house, right? This guy is way too mysterious) in… uh… some Canadian city (I mean, they’re all the same anyway, with all their igloos and polar bears. And in any case, who even cares about Canada?) and absentmindedly does things on his computer. He considers the idea of going outside. The fact that someone who’s friends with Rage is even thinking about something like that is pretty close to heresy, but Dyno’s doing it anyway.
Then someone crashes through the freaking window and, before he can even react, tackles him to the ground.
“WHAT THE—"
It’s a woman, fairly short, her hair long and flowing. In her left hand she holds a knife, which Cotton can’t help but notice is raised above his neck. There’s a wild grin on her face.
“Oh, fuck,” Dyno spits out. He grabs at her hand before she can stab him, then makes a fist and punches her in the face. She flinches away and Cotton realizes he could probably use that moment to escape, but he’s not halfway experienced enough to know how, so he just hits her in the face again. This time she staggers away, and Dyno quickly gets to his feet.
“Oh, come on!” the woman says in a mockingly complaining voice, though the cheer never leaves her. “Don’t you know it’s rude to hit a girl?”
“I mean, I feel like… you sorta tried to murder me with a knife…” Cotton says.
“I was just going to let some of that blood out of your throat,” she explains, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Don’t you know it’s wrong to keep blood imprisoned? Shame on you, Dyno. Blood rights matter.”
“No, they don’t.” Cotton rejects her argument, weight in his words. He sounds like he’s debating something life-changing, and is way too assured of himself.
“Woooow,” she murmurs. “You’re a human supremacist, you know that?”
Dyno considers it for a moment. “Yeah.”
The girl clicks her tongue. “Tsk, tsk, tsk.” Her expression is like a strict schoolteacher when a student has just given a horribly incorrect answer. “Why would you ever say something like that?”
Cotton thinks about how he should respond to that for a few moments. As he’s doing so, something clicks in his brain, and he remembers the situation he’s currently in.
A strangled noise comes out of his throat, and he turns and runs.
“Blood rights still matter!” the girl shouts from behind him.
|||
Aaron facepalms. “Josh, what the hell?”
“I don’t know what you want from me!” Josh complains. “Clearly, the only explanation for this is that I’m at the center of some mysterious conspiracy and I’m getting too close to the truth, so they had to eliminate me!”
“Or maybe,” Aaron says, his voice heavy with annoyance, “someone was trying to mug you.”
“Muggers don’t try to stab you!” Josh protests, and it takes a few moments for his brain to catch up to his words.
“Well, I mean, they do,” he rushes to correct himself, “but not… I mean… you know what I mean! Muggers don’t just try to murder you!”
“…Which brings up a good point,” Aaron notes. “You just nearly died. Why the hell are you so calm?!”
“Well, I didn’t die, did I?” Josh defiantly says.
“Well, yeah, but… I…” A palm hits Aaron’s forehead. “Ugh. Never mind. We should report this to the police.”
“No! I’m telling you, Hollow, it’s a conspiracy!” Josh yells. “Why else would I be targeted? I’m tellin’ ya, it’s all connected!”
Hollow (or Aaron, whatever) sighs. “Maybe someone really hates your videos.”
Josh bristles at that, as if the very notion is heretical to him. “Excuse me,” he says, his voice cold. “My videos are excellent, thank you very much.”
“I’m not disputing that,” Aaron half-growls in frustration. “I’m just saying that maybe, just maybe, not everyone shares that opinion.”
“Well, they—” Josh stumbles. There’s a sudden pain in his chest. It’s like… like
there’s a hole in his body and it burns
Never mind that. It’s probably nothing.
—they should,” Josh says triumphantly.
Aaron doesn’t respond to that. He just sighs and says “Well, anyway, seriously? An ancient conspiracy is the best way you can think of to explain this?”
“I never said it was ancient,” Josh notes.
Once more, Aaron sighs. This time, it’s accompanied by a disgusted shake of his head. “Okay. Not ancient. Whatever. You really think a conspiracy makes the most sense?”
“Well, of course,” Josh says, as if Hollow’s being stupid to not get it.
It’s at roughly this moment that Aaron gives up hope. “Alright,” he says. “Whatever. I’m still going to talk to the police about this. You can go home or whatever, I guess.”
“Alright,” Josh concedes. “But I’m warning you, man: you’re messing with destiny here. Destiny.”
“That game was alright at best,” Aaron says, and turns and walks in a different direction. Josh just continues on the path to his house.
He has a great idea. When he gets home, he’ll get on his computer (a course of action so obvious it’s barely worth mentioning), and he’ll talk to Cotton. He’ll tell him all about what happened here. Surely he'll believe him, after all?
|||
As Aaron walks towards the police station, he notices something moving in the shadows.
Whatever. It’s probably nothing.
But… Josh was attacked today, just a few minutes ago. And now someone’s near him, and they’re trying to stay hidden. That can’t be a coincidence. Can it?
Yes. It can. The conspiracy idea is still stupid.
But just in case, Aaron discreetly keeps an eye out on the mysterious person dashing between the spots of darkness along the street. It can never hurt to be too careful, after all. Even if what Josh is saying doesn’t make any sense, it’s still entirely possible that this is also some sort of would-be mugger, just by coincidence. And besides, it IS a person – Aaron’s sure of that now – and no one without something to hide moves like that.
His caution pays off. When the person suddenly breaks off from the shadows and leaps at him at ridiculous speed, he’s ready, and he stumbles away and to the side. The man who’d jumped out at him – he can see it’s a man now – staggers as he lands. Clearly, he wasn’t ready for Aaron to dodge, and so he trips over himself and falls to the ground.
“Dude. What the hell?” Aaron asks.
The man scrambles up from the ground with unnatural litheness and snarls at him. There’s nothing human in that voice. He sounds like a beast who’s lost his mind. Aaron steps back in justified surprise.
“Uh. What?” Aaron settles into a fighting stance. Something tells him it might not be a good idea to anger this man, but he doesn’t exactly have a choice.
There’s a brief pause, maybe the length of a heartbeat, and Aaron gets a closer look at the man. He’s not quite bald, but he’s close, and what little hair remains on his head is a pale blond color. The guy’s built like a truck – tall, though not so much as Josh’s attacker, and bulky as all hell. His knuckles are scarred and his skin is bruised, like someone who’s seen his fair share of fights. And yet, his face… his face is oddly youthful, uncannily so – it doesn’t fit in with the rest of his body. More than anything, it looks like someone took a child’s face and stuck it onto the man. The only hint of the hardness that defines the rest of him in his face is in his eyes – they’re cold, narrow, firm and merciless.
And then the moment is over, and the man lets out that roar again and throws him at Aaron. Aaron, unlike literally everyone else in his friend group, actually works out, but he can tell that even he can’t match this guy. The man in front of him is way bigger, and looks far more muscular too. Plus, he looks like he’s got a hell of a lot of experience with this sort of thing.
Good thing he doesn’t need to match him. Aaron jumps to the side again, ducking to avoid the man’s left arm as it comes near him, and puts his foot out to trip the man. The impact sends a jolt of pain up Aaron’s leg, but it works perfectly – the man falls to the ground, an odd bellow rumbling from within his throat. Aaron takes his chance and turns and runs, getting the hell out of there.
He can’t believe he’s thinking this, but… he’s starting to think Josh might have a point.
|||
It’s been a little while since Dyno/Cotton had received Josh’s message about how he, too, had been attacked – thankfully, Dyno had taken his phone with him when he’d fled his house. Josh had claimed that the attack was part of some sort of conspiracy that wanted to eliminate him, and that he was probably the “chosen one” or something like that. Normally, Cotton wouldn’t have believed that for a second.
But there was that girl, the one who’d also tried to kill him. Back then, she didn’t seem to want anything from him or anything like that – it just seemed like she wanted to kill him. And he’s connected to Josh. One of them being attacked, he would’ve chalked up to coincidence, but both of them, at more or less the same time? He finds himself thinking that there might just be something going on here.
His phone makes a little sound again, and he pulls it out curiously. There’s another message – again, from Josh.
“Dude,” it reads. “Someone just attacked Hollow, too.”
Dyno’s eyes widen. Aaron, too? He doesn’t know Aaron that well – Aaron had worked with Josh too, yes, but that was before Cotton had stepped in – but he is still familiar with him. And if he’s been attacked, too…
“Is he alright?” Dyno asks of Josh over the phone.
“Yeah,” Josh texts back. “He’s fine.”
For a few moments, Cotton wonders whether he should tell Josh about the girl. But it’d be stupid not to, right? “That’s nice,” he types on his phone, and sends the message. “By the way, someone attacked me just now, too.”
Dyno waits a second, but there’s no response. He assumes Josh must be reeling from shock or something like that.
He doesn’t wait for his friend to collect himself before texting “…you don’t mind if I come over to where you are, do you?”
“Dude,” Josh replies. “Of course not. It’s all connected. We’ve got to stick together.”
Yeah, that’s basically what Cotton is thinking.
|||
Hollow sits on the couch in Rage’s house. He’d invited the guy over, because he figured this was something that needed to be talked about, and it’d be safer here than out in the open. Hollow had, reluctantly, agreed.
“OK,” Hollow says. “Let me just get one thing clear – I still don’t believe this “conspiracy” theory.”
“Well,” Josh smirks, “what else could it be?”
“Again - maybe someone just really hates our videos,” Hollow replies.
“Were you attacked by the same guy I was?” Josh asks, a note of satisfaction in his voice.
“Well, no, but-“ Hollow starts.
“Well then there you have it,” Josh says. “It’s not just someone who doesn’t like our videos.”
“Maybe it’s two people who don’t like our videos,” Hollow says, exasperated. “Maybe it’s one person who doesn’t like our videos and, I don’t know, some sort of hired thug or something.”
Josh grins. “Really? That’s what you think?”
Hollow facepalms. “Yes.”
“You’re gonna want to see this,” Josh replies, and shows the screen of his phone to Hollow. It’s displaying his conversation with Cotton.
For a few moments, Hollow reads it calmly, with an annoyed look on his face. Then his eyes widen, and he goes still. “Dyno, too?” he asks, his voice shocked.
“Exactly,” Josh says. “He’s in Canada. Canada. You think someone who just dislikes our videos would go all the way over there? It’s not even on the same continent. And besides, it’s Canada.”
Hollow is silent. “And now he’s coming over here,” he finally says. “Don’t you think that’s a bit of an overreaction?”
“Really? Are you still just like “this is fine”?” Josh asks.
He actually thinks about it for a second or two. “Well, okay, maybe not,” Hollow concedes. “I still feel like a conspiracy is a little farfetched. But yes, maybe there’s something going on.”
Josh grins. “See. Told y-“ He goes still.
“…Josh?” Aaron asks. Josh barely hears him. There’s someone in the corner. A man. And he recognizes him.
“Why are you here?” Josh asks in a shaking voice, staring at the man.
“…who?” Aaron says, confused. His eyes follow Josh’s gaze, and when he finds the man, he actually recoils in shock.
Standing right there is the man who had, not too long ago at all, attacked Josh.
|||
It hadn’t taken all too long to get a plane over to England. Now, Cotton sits on his flight, waiting for his arrival.
The boredom has already numbed his mind to the weirdness. He remembers what has happened, of course, but it’s no longer in the forefront of his mind. For now, he’s just sitting back in his chair, desperately hoping this flight will end soon. He probably should’ve brought something to pass time with, he recognizes, but it’s too late now.
Finally, after what feels like hours of forcing himself not to look, he takes the great risk of a single glance at the clock on his phone. His heart jumps into his throat as he dreads what he’ll find. If there’s still too much time left… he doesn’t know what he’ll do.
As he finds out, there’s still a few hours left in the flight. In fact, it’s only been a few minutes since he’d last checked.
His eyes go blank, and he slackens in his seat. Maybe he’ll just try and fall asleep. That seems like the best idea.
After who knows how long, he hears a voice from somewhere behind him. “Hey, Cotton!”
His bleary mind barely takes notice of it, but he still turns his head to the side and murmurs “Eh?”
And then he sees who it is, and his mind suddenly turns alert, and he jolts in his seat. Sitting on the plane, only a few seats away, is the very girl who had tried to murder him, smiling nonchalantly.
Then, he composes himself. It’s not as hard as it seems like it should be, and he manages to sit more or less calmly in his chair. “Why are you here…?” he asks.
“Just came to say hi,” she says, her voice perfectly sweet and innocent.
“Right,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “You’re not going to try anything, are you?” A few of the people around shoot the pair curious glances, but they don’t seem to make much of the exchange – they probably assume it’s just some small quarrel. Good. Dyno would prefer not to involve other people in this, if at all possible. At the very least, it’d be way too hard to explain.
“In here?” she asks, her voice disbelieving. “Of course not. Wouldn’t want to involve all these… innocent bystanders.”
“You involved me,” Cotton shoots back. He really should let this go – if she’s not going to hurt him, there’s no imminent danger – but he can’t just let her say whatever she wants.
“You’re not innocent!” she responds, scandalized. “You don’t think blood rights matter!”
A few snappy responses come to Dyno’s mind, but he bites back on them. He’d just decided not to involve other people, after all. As long as he’s in a public area, it’s best to talk as little as possible about the odd events recently. And it seems like the girl feels the same way.
Cotton sighs and leans against the back of his chair. He knows the girl’s going to follow him once he gets off the plane. He doubts he can do anything to stop her.
This is not going to be a good day.
|||
The man rushes forward. His movement is precise, calculated. Each step is quick and efficient. It’s a quick method of approach that wastes almost no energy, and he’s ready to attack at any moment.
Josh yelps and tries to leap backwards. He ends up toppling his chair and falling to the floor. Desperately, he scrambles to get up – he really doesn’t want to give that man another chance – but his panic just makes it harder, and he falls again.
Aaron, meanwhile, lunges at the man and tackles him.
Or, well, he tries. Without even looking, the man snaps out an elbow in Aaron’s direction, and he just barely manages to stop himself and lean back to dodge the attack. Again, Aaron tries to run at him, this time from the back. This time the man doesn’t seem to react at first, and excitement flutters in Josh’s heart – but it’s a trap. The instant before Aaron reaches him, the man’s elbow strikes once more, this time shooting out right behind him. But this time, Aaron’s far too close to dodge it. It strikes him in the stomach, and he staggers, winded.
All the time, the man hasn’t stopped his advance. He’s nearly upon Josh, now.
“Damn it…” Hollow snarls. Josh just stares up at the man with empty eyes.
With movements as fast as a striking snake, the man’s hand dips into his pocket and comes out with a knife. He kicks Josh in the side, drawing a yelp of pain and causing him to roll along the floor. Josh, oddly, doesn’t really feel scared. That’s probably the adrenaline. (Or maybe he’s just crazy enough to not feel fear.)
Unfortunately, fear or not, Josh can’t really see the man, having come out of his roll faced away from him. But he can’t just do nothing. Without even turning, he lashes out with his legs and feels them connect with something solid. There’s a grunt, more from surprise than pain – but even that’s still something, especially when the man literally hasn’t made a single vocalization up until now.
Using that brief moment, Josh refocuses upon his opponent once more. He lunges at the man’s legs, trying to topple him, but the man steps back and he grabs nothing but thin air. Still, it’s an opportunity, and he quickly scrambles to his feet before the man can attack again, retreating all the while.
He shoots a look to his side. Aaron appears to have recovered, and is facing the man with some sort of fighting stance. Now they’ve got the guy outnumbered, and at least one of them seems to know at least something about fighting.
But the man’s just standing there, knife in hand, eyes cold. Remembering what he knows from anime, Josh realizes what that means. The man can take on both of them easily, and he’s decided to do so.
Though, honestly, Josh would’ve believed that even if he hadn’t watched any anime.
The man goes for Rage first. He’s fast, and Josh sees that Hollow won’t get to him in time. Quickly, Josh stumbles backwards, but the man’s approaching.
Damn it, he thinks. Well, you won’t get me without a fight! Josh settles into a fighting stance, or at least what he figures is one. He throws a punch – he knows the man isn’t in range yet, but the demonstration makes him feel better – and…
there’s a hole in his body and it burns
Something courses through him.
His vision goes white. There’s energy going through him, something like electricity and yet not at all, something that exists and doesn’t exist at the same time, something fitting through his veins as naturally as the blood within…
The man doesn’t exist anymore, not to Josh. He can’t see the world anymore. He can barely remember it. All that exists, suddenly, is the energy. It’s not that it’s painful – it’s not even that it’s distracting. But for some reason, Josh can focus on nothing but that energy. He doesn’t have the slightest clue what it is, but he can feel it perfectly, feel how it’s travelling. Right now, it’s going to his hand, and it’s flowing out of it, and something’s happening to it, it’s turning into something…
Reality snaps back into place, and the man jumps backwards with a surprised gasp.
For a moment Josh is confused. The punch couldn’t have reached him no matter what. So why did he try to dodge it? He seemed to be way too skilled to just react that way on instinct. And what’s this weight in his hand…?
Rage looks down, and all of a sudden, shock, joy and confusion course through him in equal measure.
In his outstretched hand – the one which he’d punched with – is something that could, debatably, be called a sword. The enormous thing is bigger than his whole body, and he can barely wrap his fingers around the handle – how he’s actually holding it is a mystery even to him. The blade’s bulk is intimidating, but its edge is razor-sharp, too, and it’s made of stainless steel, a few pipes running alongside it. On the back of the blade, those pipes connect to – seriously – a freaking jet engine, one that would theoretically activate when the blade was swung and boost its speed. And this whole beast of a greatsword is in Josh Bell’s hand. That was what the man had leapt back from.
He grins as he pulls the blade back. “Oh, hell yes.”