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Wolfwood grabs Meryl and runs.
From the corner of Wolfwood’s eye, he sees the dumbass has the audacity to look away from the fight long enough to smile at them. If he gets himself killed doing that shit, Wolfwood’s gonna meet him in the afterlife and kick the snot out of him.
Wolfwood launches himself from rooftop to rooftop, getting ever closer to the ground as he looks for an exit out of the city that isn’t being choked by evacuating civilians. He finds one, though it’s being blockaded by JuLai Military. He winds himself up and uses some stooge’s face as a springboard.
He clears the blockade with the bound, but he lands wrong and feels a jolt of pain climbing up his left leg from the ankle. He keeps running, regardless of the sprain.
He eventually stops far outside the city limits, at what he had to guess was at one point an old bus platform before the sands swallowed it. He sets Meryl down and leans on the Punisher to give his ankle some reprieve. The whole time Meryl is talking an ile a minute, trying her best to catch him up to speed. He doesn’t have much of value to add, so he lets her do the talking.
“There has to be something we can do!” Meryl says, “Something to help him, that energy's unstable, maybe if—”
“Shortie, stop.” Wolfwood sighs, “This is way outta our hands now. Like I said, there’s no way either of us could stand up to Millions Knives.”
Wolfwood knows that from experience.
He met Knives exactly once.
He was called into the inner sanctum of the Eye of Micheal, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t think it was creepy as hell, desiccated corpses of Plants lining the walls, the sound of a piano reverberating back from every angle.
And there, the one playing the piano, wrapped in an otherworldly shroud, was Millions Knives. His song ended in a crescendo, and he carefully closed the lid.
And suddenly, Wolfwood was hit with an indescribable sense of dread. His heart threatened to escape his chest and break all his ribs on the way out. There was immense pressure from all sides, like he was buried alive in the sand. He couldn’t breathe and there was only one thought that echoed over and over again in his head, desperate and afraid:
I want to live.
Without turning around, Millions Knives spoke, “You’re the S Plus child, aren’t you? Conrad has spoken very highly of you. As I understand it, you’re Chapel’s apprentice as well.”
Knives finally turned around and Wolfwood only saw what little of his face peeked from behind his hood. “I have a mission for you.”
If Wolfwood were in a better state of mind, he’d of told Knives to go fuck himself just to be disagreeable. Put up some level of resistance to keep what little illusion of choice he had, but all he could think was I want to live I want to live I want to live I want to live and he found himself nodding. Anything to get as far away as soon as possible.
Knives approached Wolfwood, and the pressure grew stronger, the plea to live louder.
“You are to bring my brother here, to JuLai.” Knives commanded, “He is foolish and reckless, but you will not allow any harm to come to him, do you understand?”
Wolfwood somehow managed to croak, “Y-Yes…”
“Good. Speak with Conrad. I’m sure he has some sort of incentive in mind.”
Wolfwood made it three steps out the door before he collapsed to the floor dry-heaving and shaking. He remembers thinking then, that if Knives's brother was anything like him, that if the rumors about The Humanoid Typhoon had even a single grain of truth to them, then humanity was well and truly fucked.
“I’m not talking about fighting Knives!” Meryl yells, waving her hands around emphatically, “I’m talking about finding a way to safely release all that energy! With how it all got condensed like that, if it fails, who knows what could happen!”
She paces up and down the sunken platform as she bites her thumbnail in thought. As Wolfwood watches her, he realizes she’s limping too, though he immediately recognizes that her ankle is broken rather than sprained like his. He’s about to tell her to settle down so he can set it for her, when a look of horrific revelation dawns on her face and she turns to face JuLai.
"That's it…" Meryl mutters to herself. Then to Wolfwood, "Binoculars! I need binoculars! Something!"
The little lady is in luck, because Wolfwood opens the arms of the Punisher to access the near unused storage compartments. He keeps all sorts of junk he never uses but The Eye insists all operatives keep on their person; a first-aid kit that's been left to rot thanks to the ampules; an extra handgun Wolfwood never saw a need for when the Punisher did the job done just fine; and lastly a set of binoculars, also neglected.
Meryl snatches them from his grip and he pitches his voice up an octave, "'Gosh, Undertaker, thank you! You're so sexy and awesome!'"
Meryl ignores him, and he deflates a bit from his failed attempt to lighten the mood.
In the distance, Wolfwood makes out two gleaming stars in the middle of JuLai, one fluorescent purple and the other metallic blue. If he squints, his enhanced eyesight can just make out the silhouettes of the twins clashing and separating.
Suddenly, the purple star changes trajectory and shoots straight up. The blue star follows close behind.
“…Knew it…” Meryl says in distressed awe as she lowers the binoculars, “Outer space… That’s where he’s gonna release all the energy!”
Now, Wolfwood isn’t someone who knows much about physics, but anyone with a basic education knows that the ships in the Big Fall got torn up way worse because of how their propulsions forced them into the atmosphere. He feels himself break into a cold sweat.
“What the hell!” He takes a step forward and shouts into the sky, as if the moron could somehow hear him that way, “Jesus Christ, Blondie! You’ll blast yourself to pieces!”
But Wolfwood doesn’t get a reply. Instead, the blue star catches up to the purple and their light shines as one.
His heart drops into his stomach. He has to force himself to look away from the star in the sky, growing ever smaller as that idiot ascends ever higher. He doesn’t want to, but he does so, just for a moment, to keep an eye on Meryl. The tips of her fingers are white from the grip she has on the binoculars.
And for five uncomfortable minutes, the two watch the sky in silence. It’s like some kind of horror story, and they can’t tear away anymore. Not even for a second. They watch as the star grows a long tail in its descent and as it eventually fades away. The star is still falling. It falls down, all the way back down to the center of JuLai.
And then the star bursts into light.
In an instant, Wolfwood turns to shield Meryl with his body. He holds her close to his chest, his feet planted as firmly as he can.
The explosion itself thankfully doesn't reach them, but the shockwave sure as hell does. It hits Wolfwood with enough force that they topple over, but he's careful not to put any of his weight on Meryl. He's sure some of his ribs are broken, possibly there’s some damage to his spine too, but he doesn't take an ampule just yet. He's still holding himself up just fine, and there could be more coming.
Wolfwood waits for the light to fade and the ground to stop shaking before he rolls off of Meryl.
“You okay?” He asks.
“Y-Yeah…” She replies with a shaky voice. Wolfwood glances her over to double check, and yeah, shaken is all she appears to be. Suddenly, she springs up with enough force that she nearly headbutts Wolfwood in the chin. She gasps, “Oh, God…”
Wolfwood whips his head around to look in the direction she’s looking in, in the direction of JuLai. Or rather where JuLai should have been.
JuLai is gone.
Where one of the largest cities in the world once stood is now nothing but a crater. No ruins, no debris, not a single trace of what once was.
Wolfwood is stunned stupid by the sight, so when Meryl runs off, yelling that dumbass’s name, his reaction is delayed. He chases after her as best as he can, hauling the Punisher on a sprained ankle and crushed ribs.
He doesn’t want her to get close to the crater. Even at the distance they are now, Wolfwood can see the edges are still glowing molten, nevermind the possibility that whatever the fuck just happened irradiated the whole area ten times over. But Meryl doesn’t make it that far. She stops halfway there, freezes, and then drops to her knees, letting out an overwhelmed wail.
Wolfwood calls out to her and when he catches up to her, he suddenly understands why she stopped. Radiating from what little remains of JuLai, is the same aura he felt standing face-to-face with Millions Knives.
Or rather it’s similar, but the differences are too stark to ignore. It’s stronger, for one. Even at this distance, it’s as strong as it had been in a room with Knives only a few heels away. Wolfwood can’t even begin to imagine what it was like in the epicenter.
The pressure is reversed too. Rather than being buried alive, it’s as though a whole desert has grown inside of Wolfwood, threatening to break out of his body and join the rest of Noman’s Land.
Rather than fear and desperation, Wolfwood feels smothered by an all-consuming sense of guilt. Instead of a desperate plea to live, his thoughts all bleed away to a small voice, quiet and resigned:
I should have never been born.
And it stirs something in him; an instinct so strong that Conrad's experiments could not surgically remove it or dissolve it in chemicals. The Eye could not break it or drown it in blood. At least, not fully. He drops to his knees and clings to Meryl for dear life. He desperately needs to protect her, because who else is there left to protect?
He holds her tightly as he rocks the two of them in a gentle sway. His throat closes and his eyes sting, but he refuses to let himself cry any louder than short puffs of air.
He can’t cry loudly because That Man’s stomping around, just outside Wolfwood’s hiding place, and he’s scared of what That Man’ll do once he finds him.
He can’t cry loudly because Livio is pouring his little heart out about a dream where his imaginary friend, Razlo, is the one who killed his parents, and Wolfwood needs to be brave Big Brother Nico for him.
He can’t cry loudly because the doctors will try to sedate him, and the sedatives they use don’t work on Wolfwood, only making the serum’s hallucinations stronger.
He can’t cry loudly because despite Wolfwood breaking his knee in the training drill, Chapel does not tolerate weakness.
He can’t cry loudly because even if bullets fired from an uzi are tearing up his insides, Wolfwood has a mission to complete.
He can’t cry loudly because Meryl needs him, and Wolfwood needs to protect her.
It's getting hard to breathe. He takes shallow, gasping breaths and spots dance in front of his eyes. He tries to take out a cigarette hoping the nicotine will steady and ground him, but his hand shakes so much the packet slips right out of his grip and into the sands.
Meryl catches sight of the familiar green packaging and screams. Wolfwood panics.
He doesn’t know what to do anymore, so he doesn’t think about it. His body moves on its own as he clings even tighter to Meryl and runs. Wolfwood runs and runs and runs, despite lack of clear direction; despite the sprained ankle, and the broken ribs. He ignores Meryl’s cries of “No, no, no!” and just keeps running.
Eventually, Wolfwood sees the familiar weathered green of the reporters’ car and all but slams into it. He opens the passenger door and puts Meryl inside. She squirms and tries to get away, probably to go back to that thing that was once JuLai, but he slams the door shut. He runs to the other side and jumps into the driver’s seat before she can fully climb over the console.
He wrestles the keys away from her and holds it high above his head. She’s in no state to drive. Wolfwood’ll drive. Just give him a minute.
Wolfwood catches his breath in large, gasping breaths. The whole place reeks of cigarettes —both his and the old man’s shitty-ass menthols— after two months of unintentional hot boxing. Its familiarity is calming to him, like the second hand smoke actually does anything for him.
Now he’s coming back down a little, he’s beginning to feel his body as his again, and becomes aware; of the buzz under his skin, of the pain blooming in his chest and foot, of the sticky saltwater tracks on the sides of his face.
Meryl is ranting up a storm beside him, but he’s too tired and drained to pay attention to anything she’s saying. He puts the key in the ignition, but as he holds the wheel, he stops.
Is this what it was all for? For all his preaching and pestering Wolfwood about the sanctity of life and shit, is this really how it ends? With him dying to protect everyone, but countless lives still lost? Countless lives that Wolfwood can’t even comprehend because after a certain point numbers stop having meaning.
He tries to curse out that Fuckin’ Goddamned, Needles-for-Brains, Martyr-Assed, Sonovabitch Bastard, but he only gets as far as the first syllable before his throat is torn open by the most visceral, primal scream he’s ever let out in his life. He slams his head down on the steering wheel and the horn harmonizes with him.
Meryl buries her face in her fists and starts crying again. His head hurts.
Goddamnit shut up, shut up, shut the fuck up! She’s a grown-ass woman, why the fuck is she crying?! She’s older than him, for fuck’s sakes! Jesus Herald Christ!
He only realizes he’s said that out loud when Meryl takes a few pathetic swings at him. He lets her. She grabs onto the lapels of his blazer and falls crying into his chest. He holds her despite the odd angle they’re at. His heart hurts.
“‘M sorry, Shortie,” He hoarsely whispers as he holds her, resting his cheek on the crown of her head. “I didn’t mean it…”
She whispers back, “I know…”
He doesn’t know how long they’re like that. But his head is pounding and his ribs are aching and his foot feels swollen when they do eventually break. He turns the keys and the car’s engine roars to life.
“Where’s the nearest Bernadelli office.” He asks, though the flat tone of a statement comes out.
Meryl takes a moment to compose herself before answering. She looks like shit. He probably isn’t all that better off himself. “Little Fe, I think. But that one’s part of the insurance branch.”
Little Fe, huh? That’s about forty iles north of JuLai.
“Will they still take you?” He asks, “Get’cha back to HQ in one piece?”
She needs a second to think about it, then nods. Wolfwood gives it a little gas and turns the vehicle in the right direction.
“Then I’m leaving you there,” and it’s one of the cruelest things he’s said in his life.
“What? No,” Meryl looks at him like he’s gone crazy, “No. What about you?”
“Got shit to do,” He replies. It’s true enough; he outta raid some safe houses to get at the stashes of meds before some Eye of Micheal chuds get to them. But what he really needs to do is get Meryl to safety, and ‘safety’ means keeping her as far from him and his ilk as possible.
“You can’t do this!”
“I can do whatever I want,” He says firmly, though he doesn’t have the energy for it and the words only make the ache in his chest sink in deeper, “And I’m getting you back to your employers, then fucking off forever.”
She sucks in a breath like she's going to cry again. God, please no. He doesn't think he can handle it.
Thankfully, she doesn't. She doesn't even look at him, spending the rest of the drive alternating between staring out the front window and at the makeshift ashtray on the dashboard. They don't talk.
The child sun hasn't even risen yet when they make it to the insurance office in Little Fe, but it looks busier than it's ever been. Probably on account of JuLai blowing up at two-thirty in the morning, Wolfwood’s mind unhelpfully supplies.
Miraculously and despite the chaos, someone recognizes Meryl from college and immediately ushers her away. She glances back at Wolfwood and he pretends not to notice as he gathers The Punisher out of the truck. She’ll be fine. She’s safe now.
Wolfwood finds a bus stop and sits on the bench. He’s not entirely sure he has the money for the fare, but he’s sure he could bullshit his way through it if need be. He digs through his pockets for an ampule and decides to take it before the adrenaline fully drains from him. His body burns from the inside out as everything stitches itself back together and all evidence of this terrible night’s proceedings are washed away. His body is once again a blank slate. And yet…
His ribs are healed. His chest still hurts.
