“The more you search for me, the more far ahead I will be. Stop searching, Brother. And let me naturally resonate with you.”
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Grizeo wakes hearing the sound of bears raging, wolves whimpering, big cats roaring and monkeys chanting. Snow slapping his maked cheek as the blizzard howls around them. He sits up, pressing his right eye against his aching head before the with his body on the last layer of clothes and his finger tips have already started fading to strings. Randon is fighting a sword wielding crownless with a pickaxe. Whistling like a bird at every moment he gets which pulls the fading strings back to Grizeo’s body and become fingertips again. At the same time, summoning animals to aid him which does no help other than buying him time. “Stop sitting around and let’s get out of here!”
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“Lim…!” standing up and clicking his uzis from his belt. “He said…he hates me…”
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“Whatever he got to do to make us leave. Come on! You should know where you came from right? The tacet field you went in…” Clashing his pickaxe, the metal breaks but Randon sidesteps and with the stick of his pickaxe, tries to pierce through the body but the entire handle shatters. His cheekbones burn and crack as he gets slapped against an ice boulder. “Ugh” grunting as he stands back again, eyes wild like and irises shrunk like a feral snake. Teeth grit like lion, “I survived long not to die in the same place as my friends. I want to go back, and I will go back home.” Whistling for his bleeding and broken nose to stop fading. His dislocated foot stinging like frostbitten toes. With the Crownless facing with its blade cutting through the falling snow.
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And Lim will for sure hate his big brother, really hate him that he won’t go looking or resonate with him, whatever he meant by that. The thought of that future is comparable to being dead. Grizeo grips on his guns tight as he clears his throat. Letting the heat melt the ice in his frozen muscles, letting steam blow instead of cold mist, and having eyes burn embers. Tacet mark glowing on his cheek. Aiming both guns at before firing his deadly explosive darts. 4 points for the nape, just to grab the Crownless’s attention. “Yeah, that’s right. Fight me!”
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“This…ridiculous brother of yours.” Whistling for a giant falcon to materialize and land. Randon climbing on its back before commanding it to snatch Lim. But the big chicken does not want to get grilled by the explosive darts. Until one actually landed next to it and explode its left wing off. Whistling and it regenerates back. “See! It’s all fine when I’m here. Quickly take that man and let’s go” And the bird, feeling both shake feathers and reassured with Randon on its back, flies down to grab Grizeo. Randon helping the young man calm down and go up on the bird’s back.
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“I didn’t bullseye it yet!”
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“We got no time for that—”
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And a giant sword pierce through the center of the falcon, almost slicing off both riders. Their mount disappearing into strings as they freefall in the air. Randon screaming for dear life while Grizeo grabs hold of the boy’s hand, turns to face the white resonance chords and thinks of Lim. Lightning sparks to engulf both of their bodies before they zip up and thunder through the clouds. Passing by biomes of land, some struck down and monochrome by the destruction of Lament, others are lifeless and empty. Then a great stretch of sand—a desert with an active tacet field and white resonance chord. Grizeo reaches his arms out but then it cuts off. A pain that has yet to register as they both tumbling on the ashen grounds.
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As the crownless with scissors and the Grenade launcher Brandson charges towards them. Randon sits up, hands up to clutch and cover his ringing and bleeding ear, feeling for the first time the mind wringing pulses of the white resonance chords. He cannot scream, any noise is devoid of any sound. Grizeo grabs hold of his collar and throws the boy out of the way. Scissors cutting off Grizeo’s only arm, instantly spiking the nerves as he bites his lips bloody and tears wincing out. Before the Brandson grenade launcher spits out a black bile. Exploding on his entire front and sending his back against a tank. Strange, it is strange. How can he feel the pain when the last time he went in, a headshot with guts hanging out of the belly was nothing. Numb, everything is numb. Breathing is as painful as grilling his own nose over a blowtorch.
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Blowing, Randon tries to whistle but there is no sound. The two Crownless approaching to finish off Grizeo. But they have already come so far. So far, yet there is no hope in this situation. He throws a rock at one of the Crownless. Brandson Grenade Launcher faces the boy and fires a black bile. Randon braces himself. He cannot run away because of his broken feet. He can only brace, in the thought of Death.
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It explodes, no sound but only a shockwave that knocks the boy unconscious. Grizeo watches as the flames and blood of the bile gets sucked into the resonance chords all before Randon starts hovering and gets pulled in. Scissors try to chase after but the boy already plucks through the strings and flies straight to the etheric sea. Grizeo closes his eyes as he feels the winds hovering and carrying him up. Plucking against the white resonance chords for his body to rocket straight up then feel hot ash against his back.
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There is sound—barely with his bleeding ears, and warmth from a healer echo covering his front. The etheric sea clearing out to a clear blue sky, and Coy appears in his view. Looking confused and worried before yelling at Dr. Bolg who pours hot liquid all over Grizeo’s scorching front. He turns to look over his left shoulder, numerous TaKaRan soldiers laying lifeless on the sand as soldiers with emblems—Bastion soldiers cover the dead in plastic bag. Over to his right is Randon with his facing properly forwards and Ms. Baizhi massaging the boy’s ankles. Ah…how he thinks she will massage his front next.
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But who would want to massage an open flesh with the organs fully exposed. Grizeo’s entire front exploded and only the healing echoes can gently touch and tend to him. With Coy and Dr. Bolg sitting next to him and mouthing comforting words. “Stay strong // Tell me about this time //” they say, and Grizeo cannot hear them. As he smiles his burnt lips and close his eyes to rest. Burn, burn warmly like the sun caressing his cheeks.
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And whistle, whistle, does someone so sweet. Calming his terribly beaten chest, and tending to his flickering mark cheek. Grizeo sees Lim, only in his head. Opening his eyes with heavens’ clouds above, fading the whistle as he hears his surrounding sounding to life.
ns 15.158.61.51da2
