Chapter Text
It was dark. They couldn't remember why. There was just an endless floating rain pounding on their back, like the thumping of millions of tiny soldiers. The soldiers hit every part of their exposed back. Marching their pattern up and down white skin, turned numb and pale by the cold. The pain never came, just the faintest sensations of cold; bitter and creeping. It was the only feeling they experienced, everything else was dark.
Their back shouldn’t be cold. They couldn’t be cold, not since they were in the middle of a fight. Where did the fight go? They shouldn’t feel the rain on their back; their armored clothing should have provided only the whisper of feeling as the waterproof fabric allowed rain to slink down their back. Why was everything black? Their sight was fine, enhanced even with the upgrades Nebulus offered. Why couldn’t they see? Their face burned, stinging against something hard.
There was ringing in their ears, sound eventually returning, slow as molasses spilling out of a jar onto the pavement. Pavement. Was that what they were lying on? Tarmac and stone, harsh and sharp. Their face certainly ached enough for that to be the case. Scraped open? Water dripped down their face; was it blood or the frigid rain? Was the ceaseless, pouring water that dripped down every inch of their body all rain? Was the heat just their body temperature, or was it hot blood running out of open wounds?
They tried hard to think about how they got into this situation. Was it a fight?
It was a fight, they decided, flashes of punches and running in their memory. They could feel bruises forming, head pounding, and tightness in their face and neck.
Sound slowly entered their ears, the high-pitched ringing fading out of their head. There was water splashing on the pavement, the overwhelming sound of rain, and nothing else. Their breathing is ragged and painful, and the water splatters on the pavement and their back.
Based on the sensations they had, they made the assumption that they were lying on the ground, face smashed into unforgiving asphalt. There was something hard on their head that they assumed protected them from the ground. Perhaps goggles?
There was smell returning. The burning, acrid smell of burnt skin, burnt hair, burnt everything. It permeated their nose, leaving them dizzy. Or they were already dizzy. They couldn't think with all of this pain.
They tried to peel open their eyes. Their eyes were closed; that's why they couldn't see. Colors rushed into their vision as the dark asphalt color entered their view. They turned their head slowly, the sound of glass cracking barely reaching their ears as they shifted their body. Turning slowly revealed a dingy building they laid in front of, and turning even more showed the top of the building. It was smoking, and the top half of the building and neighboring buildings were gone, leaving heavy smoke and dust in its place.
Looking up even higher showed black clouds, releasing the torrential downpour that skidded down their back. Remembering their back, they turned more, wincing as skin pulled. The sight of their back nearly made them drop again as they laid their eyes on it. Burnt flesh, mangled with lashes of blackened skin. There was no blood, just pink muscle, and the water steadily descending down their back.
Their head swam as they struggled to get up, flexing their muscles and pushing against the ground that seemed heavier than before. It was like trying to swim through butter with how their body was moving so slowly, movement making everything spin. Finally, they managed to push themselves up, getting a single knee under them.
It was a monumental task, and they felt like Atlas, trying to stand with the sky on their back, but eventually, they were on two wobbling feet. They began shuffling down the street, gripping walls, making their way away from the mangled buildings and road behind them.
The damn rain didn't stop, clouding their vision as they shuffled down the street. They limped down the endless street, looking for someone, anyone, to help them.
.
There was a figure in the distance, menacing and reliving in one glance. They abandoned all sense of support provided by the walls, breaking into a stumbling run across the street to reach the figure.
The person was brightly colored, covered in a phantasmagoria of colored cloth, with crackling energy at fingertips.
They crashed onto the floor before the person, legs giving out in a combination of relief and exhaustion. "Fantasia!!" They called out, wondering distantly how they knew that name. But it didn't matter; there was someone to help them out!!
Fantasia turned and looked down on them with a type of disdain. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen," Fantasia said, eyes narrowing, hands raising as the energy began to glow. Their mind reeled, as they shuffled away in confusion. What was Fantasia talking about?
Fantasia shifted, lifting a boot-clad foot, crushing it into their mangled back, stopping them in their tracks. "Useless. Second place. Fallen from glory. You're so injured, you can't even fight back." They whimpered, pushing at Fantasia's boot, but they couldn't seem to get it to move.
They were dying, and Fantasia was just crushing them under heel. They tried to cough out some words, something like "stop" or perhaps "why?" but all that was coming out of their mouth was a rotten blackness, poison spewing from their lips as they tried to force words to form. Fantasia laughed bitterly and ground them into the ground a little more. "The little birdie gets what they deserve. Keep speaking your poisonous words, nobody is going to listen."
They would die here, alone on the street, with Fantasia killing them.
Fantasia spit, muttering out a few words as their vision began to blur and their hearing faded out of focus. "You could have been better if you just listened and played along, BEEP. "