Chapter Text
When Virion Sol landed on Prime, the first thing he did was kill someone.
He wasn't a good person by any means. It was a robber, holding a gun up to a shopkeeper's head. And when Virion caught his eyes, he saw them glowing- swirling bright orange, and red- and something in his gut told him that there was something more going on.
Virion knew that he was dangerous, and that it was a situation that could’ve gotten out of hand very easily.
Being well-aware of the laws at home meant that he knew that he could stop him by any means necessary, if his life was at stake. So, as soon as the fight was turned to him, a golden revolver was summoned to his hand.
There was no big fight. The robber didn't pull out any last-minute tricks to make him sweat, and didn't put up much of a fight in general. One minute, he was shouting at some poor lady behind the counter, and the next, he was motionless, and bleeding out on the pristine, white floors.
He only meant to harm him, but any means necessary meant any means necessary.
And when law enforcement later arrived at the scene, it wasn't for the dead robber.
The lady, instead, pointed her crooked finger over at Virion- and even though he was new to this world, he knew that he was going to get in some major trouble, without context. And he also knew that if he was in trouble, then getting back home would be difficult-
So Virion Sol fought. For his life, and for his freedom- and while being disoriented from the travel over, the fight ended up remaining as a weird blur in his memory.
He could vaguely remember a chase, with those law enforcement following him outside the shop, and around the corner. He could remember a dagger being summoned to his fingertips, as well as hands grabbing at him, and attempting to restrain him. At one point, a new person dressed in an absurdly bright outfit ran over to help, and Virion easily fought against him-
But, in the end, they succeeded.
Virion felt cold metal clamping around his wrists. And suddenly, like a cold shock washing throughout his entire body, his mind was cleared, and his weapon disintegrated in his hands.
Just as fast as he'd arrived to this strange world, Virion was being detained, and pushed into the back of a strange vehicle. And even though he insisted that he wasn't the one that'd robbed the shop, and that he shouldn’t be the one getting detained, nobody was listening to him.
A door slammed shut behind him. He tried opening it again, but it didn’t budge. And when he tried yelling and hitting his bound fists against the window to get their attention, aside from a few flinches at the sudden outburst, nobody batted an eye at him.
He was exhausted. Frustrated, since nobody wanted to hear what he had to say for himself, and thus he couldn't explain that he was entirely in the right.
And as he leaned his head against the seat- sitting alone, in a strange vehicle, and in a strange world- all Virion wanted to do was go home. He shut his eyes for a second, hoping he'd wake up in a cold sweat-
But he didn't. He was still there, and all he could do was watch the uniformed people walking around outside. He could press his face closer to the window, and take a further look around outside- but it didn’t make him feel any better.
Back at home, everything was smaller in comparison. To Virion, that floating island was his whole world, and yet, it seemed like nothing in the thick of the place he was in right now.
He got a view of it earlier- symmetrical, smooth paths to walk down. Tall buildings. Flying vehicles. Masses of people walking around every corner, bumping into him in every direction he stumbled towards, and staring at him wherever he passed-
And, as if to make the whole experience much worse, there was a strange, horrible smell coming from somewhere nearby- a mix of garbage, and food, and sweat- permeating through the thick of a humid day, going up in Virion’s nostrils, where it ended up burning the base of his throat. And no matter where he went, it always seemed to follow right behind him.
And so- after he got his bearings, and realized that he wasn’t at home anymore- Virion kept his head down, and he walked into the first building that he could find. Something small and manageable, with a neutral scent, and minimal light. The whole point was for him to get help, somehow…
And everything went downhill from there.
But now, with a clear head, and in the back of a strange vehicle that smelled strongly of leather, everything seemed to settle in further.
The entire city was made up of rows and rows of tall buildings. Far taller than anything Virion’s ever seen before- even taller than any cave he’s been in, or any tower he’s ever seen- horrible, imposing things that made Virion feel like a small bug in a concrete jungle. And as he tried to get a good view of where the top of the buildings were- sliding his head further down the window, to no avail- that feeling just grew worse, and worse, until Virion became nauseous.
Virion then turned his gaze downward, and instead watched uniformed people file in and out of the shop, as well as a few of them going into the alley that Virion had been apprehended in.
And, as he was left alone, more and more people started showing up to the scene. Virion felt surrounded.
Some people walked by the vehicle he was in, and poked their heads near the window to get a good look at him. Some kept their distance, and tried to get a good look from where they were standing. Virion just sank his head a little lower, and stopped paying so much attention to strangers that had nothing to do with the situation at hand.
He saw the shopkeeper a few times. She was always talking with someone in uniform, standing around the front of the shop with her arms crossed, and with her eyes flitting over to the scene nervously.
And then- after an hour had passed, feeling closer to a day passing by- someone else finally joined him.
He sat in the seat in front of his, blocked by a transparent partition set between them. While adjusting things in the front seat, he introduced himself- Officer something- before asking Virion how he was feeling.
And when Virion remained stubbornly quiet- still fuming, even more so from being asked a dumb question- he let it drop for the moment.
Then the vehicle thrummed to life below him- shaking the window, and his head in turn- and Virion quickly sat up in his seat.
It sounded like the vehicle he was in was growling, now- a strange, horrible beast that he was in the belly of. Or maybe, more accurately, a trap he couldn't find a way out of in time. And, with a horrible sense of dread pumping his adrenaline, he was prepared to relay his worries-
But in the front of the vehicle, there was a small, flat mirror. And in it, Virion was able to meet the stranger’s eyes- wide silver, on a very disinterested blue- and he glared at him. If everything really was as terrifying as Virion assumed it to be, and if he was going to die right now, then the man behind the partition wasn't going to help. He was either the one to cause his doom, or he would ensure it.
And so, Virion kept his chin up.
The officer sighed.
“Should've let the hero handle this one.” He muttered, adjusting that same mirror.
Then the vehicle started moving.
He wasn't pulled into the seat. He wasn't digested further, and no blades came shooting out to stab him. They were just… moving, now. Virion’s stomach anxiously turned, but the movements were slow, and smooth at first- and when it did eventually speed up, it was still somewhat tolerable.
“Hero?” Virion repeated, his sour mood dropping for a minute, just to marvel at how fast this thing could go- and how fast he was going, in turn.
The man looked at him in the mirror again, attention split between him and the road. From what Virion could tell, he didn't look angry at him. And yet, he was still in trouble.
“Or you could've called somebody.” He said, “There were plenty of ways to go about this without… Killing the guy.”
Virion scowled at him in turn, teeth grit.
Call someone? If he ran around, screaming for help, then the man could've hurt him instead- or he could have hurt the lady, and Virion would've been too late. Or the man could've left, and gotten away after robbing that poor woman, and nothing would've been done about it.
Sure, he didn't mean to kill him, but all bets were off. If he tried pulling a ballsy move like that back at home- home, he lamented, with beautiful greenery, dirt paths, and small, manageable wooden buildings that didn't make him want to puke- then he would've had a sword pulled on him before he could have even gotten a word out.
He'd be injured or dead, carried away to a jail or graveyard, and that'd be that. Simple and easy.
And, because of that, crime was hardly a problem! If anyone was concerned, and as far as he was aware, Virion was the hero in this situation.
“...”
There were more vehicles like the very one he was in.
They passed by, and all of their riders all seemed bored- instead of nervous, or fascinated in any way, just as Virion was- and it pushed him further out of his element. Everything was running smoothly. The vehicles drove along painted lines on the road, all going around the same speed- all lined up perfectly, and moving like the cogs in a well-oiled machine.
Machine. Virion, personally, had never seen anything quite like it, but he knew that such things existed far beyond his own home. It was intriguing.
“Where are you from, kid? Do you want to call your parents? Anybody worried about you?” The officer asked. And when Virion didn't say anything immediately, he said, “Or… do you have a name, at least?”
“...”
“Cooperation could get you in a lot less trouble.” He then enticed.
Virion’s eyebrows furrowed. If he wanted his name cleared, and this whole misunderstanding situated, then he needed to make his case.
“I saved that lady, back there.”
The officer's eyes narrowed. It was quiet for a moment, before he started talking again- promptly ignoring Virion’s declaration of innocence.
He kept asking questions- trying to get a name out of him, mainly- and Virion quickly lost interest. If he wasn't going to hear him out, then he could grit his teeth, and keep quiet until he found someone who would.
-
Despite having a clearer mind, the whole experience made Virion nauseous. And thus, the next few sequences happened in a blur.
He bounced from place to place- handed off to different strangers, all trying and failing to get specific details out of him- and through it, Virion insisted on the same things. He saved that lady. He didn't mean to kill that robber, since that seemed to be the point they were all so stubbornly stuck on.
And, with every insistence, the officers would give him the same disappointed looks.
He’d then find himself in the back of another vehicle, going through the horrible, tall, geometrical city for a second time. This time, the ride was much longer. They ended up on the outside of a large building- completely bland on the outside, and surrounded by miles of flat, dry land.
Virion understood it well enough. He got arrested, and now, he was going to prison.
The inside of the prison was intimidating, just as the rest of this strange world was. Large, imposing buildings, with an overwhelming atmosphere- and if Virion had been just as disoriented as he'd been when he first showed up, then he might’ve frozen up a bit.
But it'd almost been a full day, at that point. And even though it wasn't enough time to fully adjust, it was progress.
So with hands on his arms, and with his head down, Virion was led through the chaos.
He was led to a room, and asked to stay still. There was a bright flash of light that caught him off guard, turning his resting face into a horrible glare for the next hour- face pinched, and eyes narrowed every single time someone grabbed his shoulder to lead him somewhere else. His skin was practically crawling with the anticipation of it happening again.
He got a new change of clothes- something thin, and gray, that fit loosely onto his frame. He could distinctly remember people trying to talk to him, but every time someone did say something, he easily tuned it out as some incessant murmuring.
He was led in even further. It felt like he was wading through mud. Virion was exhausted- much more so than he should've been, with how alert he was trying to be.
He heard cheering, and whooping coming from the cells- all different kinds of prisoners looking over at him, with chains clamped around their wrists, just as Virion’s was, or sometimes even clamped around their necks instead. They seemed excited to see him there, even though they couldn’t possibly know who he was.
Then Virion was led to his cell.
It wasn't as bad as he thought it'd be. He had… a window. A bed to sleep in. There wasn't much room, but he was alone.
He was told that he was just staying there for a short while- something about a trial, and John Doe- whatever that meant.
Virion didn't care to ask. The minute he was left alone, his head hit the flat pillow, and he let himself rest. There- in the small, dark cell- Virion could finally get a break.
But he didn't fall asleep right away.
He couldn't for a while, despite how exhausted he was.
So instead he just laid there, eyes wide and staring at the stone wall, hearing the distant sounds of metal clanging, and people talking- something that easily grated his sensitive hearing, and made him want to smother himself with the pillow laying under his head…
But Virion counted his blessings.
He was in a strange place, on a strange planet nonetheless- or, if worse came to worse, another dimension- and he got arrested the minute he set foot on land… but at least his bed was a little comfortable. At least it was quieter. And at least he could quell his nausea, now.
And maybe in the morning, when he was more articulate, he could get them to listen, and send him home.
(If they had the means to, anyway.)
-
His first few days in prison went by very quickly.
They were spent in that same cell, and in all honesty, Virion spent it sleeping. He almost felt like he was sick, with how sluggish he was, even after the first day-
And, according to the guards that explained it later, this was a normal reaction. The power dampeners kept him calm, and kept his ‘abilities’ at bay. They just had to wait for Virion’s system to settle, and to get used to them before he was allowed out of his cell.
A few days later- at noon- Virion was finally allowed to join with the other prisoners.
He was still a little tired, and blinking a little slower than usual, but he was told that things would get better as time went on… And even though he was far from home, and still a little skittish, considering the circumstances, he still tried his best to keep his head up.
He was led to a cafeteria- a flat, wide-spanning room, with long tables, and chairs seating what looked like hundreds of other prisoners. All dressed in the same muted gray outfits, and with the same power dampeners.
And then, after that, he was left alone. Stranded, with no way of knowing what to do, or where to go… just the faint smell of food in the air, and a line of prisoners crowding around it.
So Virion followed along with what everyone else was doing.
He followed someone into a line, grabbed a slotted tray, and moved it across a small counter of sorts. Something that must've been food was splattered onto the tray, and despite his grimaces, he kept moving along. Then, he ended up carrying that tray, and looking out across the rest of the room.
People were sitting down at tables, and eating from their trays… And he would have to as well, if he wanted to fit in.
For a second, he strangely longed for home- knowing that prisoners were usually confined to their cells, with food being brought to them, just like it’d been when he first arrived…
But, at the same time, prisoners back home were sometimes starved in their cells. So maybe this was a bit better. And, maybe, it was just a hurdle he'd have to endure, until he could find someone in charge that'd listen to him, and let him go back home.
He followed someone that passed him, and tried to sit down at the same table as them- but before he could get too close, a hand slammed down on the table. And as he looked over, the spot he was just going to sit in got taken up by a stranger's knee.
“This seat's taken.” She hissed- her lisp enunciating the word seat- and Virion backed up, and left just as quickly as he'd approached.
Unfortunately, at every table Virion tried to sit down at, he kept getting similar responses.
People taking up previously empty seats, either glaring at him for daring to approach them, or getting a little too close into his personal space… And every time, Virion would turn around, and try to find another table to sit at.
By the time he made it to the nearly empty table at the corner of the cafeteria- with only two people sitting down on it, he noticed, while the rest of the tables were packed with people.
Virion had been rejected too many times. His face was contorted into a scowl when he walked up to them, and he was prepared to either sit at this table, or give up on sitting anywhere in this horrible place.
The first person Virion’s eyes landed on had black, messy hair that reached near his shoulders in a tangled mess- and as he looked closer, he spotted a small white streak in his hair, just at the front.
He looked tired, and as Virion approached, his pale eyes darted to look up at him- but, otherwise, he didn't move his head at all. The only thing that moved was his hand, absentmindedly pushing a spoon around his tray.
The person sitting next to him- a boy with spiked, cherry-red hair- was much more interested in Virion’s presence. He almost looked surprised to see him approaching them, dark eyebrows raised and golden eyes opened wide- but not unkindly so.
The two of them were the only ones in this place that seemed to be around his age. They were also the only ones that didn't jump up to keep him from sitting at their table even though it was practically empty…
Virion hesitated.
And when they continued staring, but didn't say anything, he finally asked, “Can I sit here?”
He knew he must've looked tense. His shoulders were squared, teeth grit, and he knew that there was nothing he could do about the scowl present on his face- but he also couldn't help it.
And, if these two were also insistent on him not being allowed to sit with them, then he was probably just angry enough to throw his tray at something. Or someone.
But they didn't deny him. Instead, the two of them looked over at each other- curiously, and very briefly- before the black haired man nodded.
With the majority of his tension releasing in that instant, Virion sat down in the spot across from them.
He didn’t eat right away, and neither did they. Instead, even though they agreed to let Virion sit with them, they all sat in a weird, tense silence, as if they were waiting around to see who would say something first.
The two looked at each other again.
Then, the one with black hair sat up a little further, and finally spoke to him.
“You're the new guy, right?” He asked. His voice was just above a whisper, bordering on raspy, like he was sick and just starting to heal from it. “The one that almost killed that hero trying to detain you?”
Virion nodded slowly.
Externally, he was remaining as stoic as he could be, in front of these new people- but internally, the word kept playing around in his head. Hero. That man he hurt- the man he could barely even remember, back in that alley- was a hero? And he almost killed him?
Virion’s stomach churned nervously. No wonder he was getting in so much trouble, he thought. If the person he hurt was widely respected… it was like coming into someone's house, and throwing their things everywhere. Beyond impolite. Barely salvageable.
He could try to salvage it.
“I'm… not from around here.” He said, a little awkwardly. The man’s eyes narrowed, and Virion shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and elaborated. “Not from this planet. I'm not- used to the customs. I didn’t know.”
He could either try to gain some respect- which hadn't really worked out for him, when dealing with the officers- or he could try and be sympathetic. Which was easy, considering that he was in a new place, and constantly terrified…
But the man's face was unreadable. He was looking for something, Virion could tell from the pauses between his words, and the intense eye contact- but he couldn't tell what he was looking for.
“John Doe.” The man said, slowly, "You picked a bad time to get stuck here, man.”
Virion blinked. “Why do you say that?”
For the time being, the question was ignored.
“I'm William. And that-” He pointed over to the red-haired guy, who was staring right at him, “Is Dakota.”
Virion’s shoulders dropped a little. And, mustering up the same sort of politeness that he’d save for niceties for distant family members, and family friends he saw a couple times a year, he nodded, and said, “It’s nice to meet you both…”
Dakota’s frown deepened.
Then, with a grating creak of the seat below him, Dakota leaned forward a little- expression fierce.
Virion’s eyebrows set. Mirroring the look on Dakota's face (and hoping that it was just as intense as his was), he leaned forward as well. He thought that Dakota was going to whisper, or something, but when he spoke, it was in his regular voice.
“Why are you here… John?”
His eyes moved between the two of them for a bit before they settled on Dakota. “I killed somebody. And hurt somebody else.”
“Why?”
Virion felt a heated anger pool in his gut. His lip curled further into a frown, but despite it, he forced himself to relax.
“To save someone.”
“That hero just happened to get caught in the crossfire?” William mumbled, and with his fidgeting, and Virion's attention still on Dakota, it was barely heard. “Or was he the one causing trouble?”
“If I didn't do anything, then somebody could've gotten hurt.” He then said, confidently, “And it wasn’t just that… hero… that got hurt. There was someone else, robbing a shop. That’s who I was aiming for.”
“How did the hero get hurt, then?” William asked, a little louder. He seemed nonchalant, but at the same time, he was mirroring Dakota- and looked just as interested in getting an answer.
Something kept ticking in his brain. Respect, or sympathy?
He was a good person at heart, for saving the lady, but he could let them believe he also wasn't someone to mess with, if worse came to worse. Virion’s brain worked overtime trying to figure out which route to go, and in the end, he just decided to be honest.
He was much too tired for these sorts of games.
“I thought… he was attacking me too.” He finally said, words coming out a little stilted, “If he- if I knew he was helping, I wouldn't have…”
He let the sentence trail off, and waited for their reactions with bated breath. Sure, it didn't matter much if they were swayed- they weren't who he needed to convince- but any help from someone willing to listen to him was some help that he needed.
After another second or so of Dakota staring him down, and of William looking between them to try and parse something… Dakota relaxed. Then, he went right back to eating.
“You can stick with us, New Guy.” He was then trying to stack as much food onto his fork as he could manage, and precariously dipped it into his mouth. Through chewing, and before fully swallowing, he said, “If you want. I don't know if you're a loner like Will...”
Virion relaxed a little further. “I'd like that. I think. Nothing's been…” Then, almost subconsciously, he started fidgeting with his own spoon as well- just as William had been doing, “Nothing's gone right, since I've been here.”
“I'm sorry to hear that.” William said, but something about the delivery made Virion question if he meant it.
“Happens to the best of us.” Dakota said, a little bitterly.
And then, the three of them lapsed into silence. William didn’t eat much, but it looked like he just wasn’t that hungry compared to Dakota. Virion wasn’t, either… but he didn’t want to take food for granted. And so, though the food didn’t seem appetizing, he ate some as well.
It was bland. He decided to take his time with it.
“Um. What’s… John Doe?” Virion asked, quietly, like he was afraid of someone overhearing them, and being baffled on how he hadn’t known about this elusive man. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to… do anything, with that.”
“That’s you.” William said, “That’s just what they call people like you when they can’t find you in their system. If you're from another planet, and you don't give them a name, you'll just be John Doe.”
“Do I have to tell them that my name is-”
He suddenly held up his hand, and Virion immediately cut himself off.
“You don’t have to tell them anything.” He corrected him immediately. “And, if you ever manage to get out of here as John Doe, they’ll have a harder time finding you. So maybe it’s for the best.”
Virion nodded. Keeping his name a secret was an option, then. That was perfect.
He frowned. “Why would they need to find me if I’m out?”
“The only way you’re getting out of here is if you escape.”
“But I need to get back home.” His voice raised slightly, as he asked his next question- a particularly pressing one that he needed answered immediately. “Is there someone I could talk to? Anyone? I can't stay here- and it was all just an honest mistake, really…”
“They don’t have the time for that kind of thing anymore.” William said, miserably. “Especially not for someone that's from another planet.”
“Why not?”
Then, William and Dakota shared an uneasy glance that Virion couldn't even begin to understand, something that only a dire friendship could form-
But they explained their situations nonetheless.
The world Virion found himself in- Prime, he learned- was currently going through a… possession problem.
There were countless amounts of spirits (demons, Dakota corrected William’s explanation) coming in from another realm, controlling people, and making them do terrible things.
And apparently, possession wasn't all that foreign in Prime. Get caught on a bad day with a bad person, and it could happen to anyone. And normally, according to William, it wasn't all that frequent. Just a few months ago, if it could be proven, then it could be cleared off the victim's record in court once they were proven innocent, and they could go home…
But these current possessions were different.
They were more frequent, grotesquely violent, and the person that was causing them was unknown, and being left completely unchecked.
According to William- being relayed to Virion with an overwhelmingly bitter tone on his tongue- it was a case that the heroes (the guardians of this world) were either grossly mishandling the situation, or just outright ignoring it until it became something a little more… serious, by their standards.
(Dakota made a snarky comment in the midst of an explanation- saying that the heroes were probably working on it, but not wanting to cause a mass panic- and William happily ignored him in favor of explaining the situation further.)
Countless people possessed by demons were put away in the same prisons that the three of them were in. And with the rise of people being possessed, there was a rise of people being arrested, and then a rise of people in prison all trying to make cases for themselves.
And it wasn't impossible to get a trial, and to get out of there with a relatively clean record… But it was going to take a very long time.
“Is that why you two are here?” Virion asked. “Were you… possessed by something?”
They seemed like pretty decent people. (Well- Virion hasn't really spoken to anyone else besides the guards, and officers, so he didn't know if this sort of decency was commonplace among the other prisoners, or if it was just them…
But if someone could get in major trouble for stepping in, and saving helpless shopkeepers… Virion wouldn't be surprised if they got in trouble for something equally as dumb, possessed or not.)
“No.” Dakota said, and he almost sounded disappointed as he added, “I haven't actually seen one of them up close.”
“Yeah, thank God.” William muttered. He was starting to look a little antsy, sweating and tapping the fingers of his free hand against the table, “It's some really brutal shit.”
It was then Virion notices a slight discoloration on William's hands. It was pale, just like the rest of his body was, but it seemed to be a little worse off. The tips of his fingers also dipped into a weird purple-ish color- it was so subtle that he almost didn't see it, but then once he did, it kept his attention for a little while longer.
“I heard someone got arrested for killing people in a bank- like- he was ripping people's rib cages out. In one hit.” Dakota said, his tone being just a smidge too casual for what he was talking about. Virion could hear his leg bouncing from under the table. “And they just stuck him in a cell, in here. With the rest of us.”
At the mention of the victim, William somehow grew paler, and shuddered.
And even though Virion was used to a certain level of violence where he was from- hearing about it in stories, mostly, instead of seeing it firsthand- he could understand the sentiment. That was brutal.
Finally, after minutes of fidgeting with his spoon, William seemed to give up on trying to finish his food, and passed off his tray to Dakota. And, even though he hadn't even finished his current portion, Dakota happily maneuvered the food around, stacked the trays, and started eating what William left him.
“What do they do with them?”
“They isolate them, and try to fix them.” The tapping became a little faster. Anxious. When William spoke, he sounded agitated. “Those things- demons- they're difficult to handle. You need someone with the power to do it, and even then… sometimes, they just stick around.” William said, a little vaguely. “Or they'll just go dormant, and come back later… it's a whole thing, y'know?”
Virion nodded like he understood. But, truthfully, he felt like he was starting to get a headache, and couldn't resist rubbing his forehead.
Of course, with his luck, he managed to end up on a planet with a horrible, widespread problem that wasn't being properly handled- and of course it was coming back to hinder him.
“There was one that broke into the prison a few months back.” Dakota tagged on, and Virion’s stomach dropped. Months- they've been there for months. “We were on lockdown for ages- and I didn't even get to see it!”
“Again. That's a good thing.”
Dakota grumbled, like it wasn’t a good thing that he couldn't see these demons in person.
William shifted, until he was sitting upright- just about as straight as someone with a slouch could get before they'd give up and have to dip their heads again.
“And while they're dealing with that, the heroes have their hands full.” William ended awkwardly. “I'm not saying you won't get out, but if you weren't possessed… you're not really on the priority list for them. Born here, or not.”
Virion frowned, and started poking at his food again.
In Virion’s case, he mused… there wasn't a good case to be made.
He killed someone, hurt someone else, and now he was in trouble for it- he couldn't say that he was possessed, and forced into killing the robber… Even if he couldn't really remember what had happened to him, back there…
William was right. He was going to be there for a while, whether he liked it or not.
-
So Virion got used to a routine.
Even though they were situated in different parts of the prison, Virion still met up with them every chance he got- which, he found, was actually a lot more frequent than he thought it'd be.
Prisoners had to stay in their cells for a while, sure, but for the most part, there was a yard they could move around in, jobs they could work, and a library they could go to if they were behaving well. All of those places were crawling with guards, but as William put it, they wanted to encourage good behavior to prevent people from getting too… stir crazy.
As time went on, he also got to know his companions a little better.
Dakota was brash, frequently bouncing between being energetic, and being too tired to lift his head… but after his initial caution, he seemed more than happy to talk their ears off.
Whenever they were in the yard, Dakota was the only one of them that was actually making use of his time to work out- doing as many push-ups or sit-ups as he could before he collapsed- while Virion and William just preferred to sit off to the side, and talk.
And even though Dakota was still a little wary of Virion's presence- not used to him, or just not trusting him fully- his guard was let down rather quickly.
And Virion knew that it was because William seemed to like him.
Well. As much as William seemed to like anything.
He was trickier to understand. He was quiet, and a little timid, but he talked to him, and he answered all of Virion’s tedious questions about their world.
Sometimes, he went from answering questions about the power dampeners around their wrists- keeping them from using their own sets magic, to make them easier to control- to answering more boring ones, about court, and how it would go if Virion ever got the chance to prove himself, and actually get out of there…
And even though he was bleak in his outlook, and said quite bluntly that he didn't want to get Virion’s hopes up, he still seemed sympathetic towards him. He still seemed to enjoy his company.
And even though William and Dakota liked to talk to each other more than they liked talking to Virion- sending each other knowing looks during conversations, for reasons unknown, or sometimes blurting random things that Virion couldn't even begin to understand- they were good company.
He didn't feel left out. And as weeks passed, Virion could tell that there was some semblance of a friendship between them.
Virion followed their lead. He went to the same places, joined in the same conversations- he even started greeting the same people they did, dropping the guards' names like he'd known them their whole life…
(The only people that the two of them never really seemed to acknowledge were the other prisoners.
In fact, throughout Virion’s time there, he noticed that the attention he got on the first day practically withered away after his uneasy alliance with Dakota and William. He didn't complain about it- it was nice, just hanging around the two of them, and not having to deal with the more intimidating crowd- but it was something to chew on, when he cared enough to think about it.
And, for the most part, he didn't care. And neither of them cared to explain.)
During the days, he stayed in the company of his friends. And, perhaps a little selfishly, he would hope that the guards saw his good behavior, and whisked him away from the other criminals to hear his story, and to help get him home…
At night, Virion would lay in his bed, and think of home.
And, on most nights, he made himself sick thinking of it. It was dark, and quiet, but he could never seem to relax.
The thing was- as troubling as it was- Virion was having some memory issues, and it was something that only became apparent once he started thinking more about it.
He could remember Flora, and Fauna- his home on the floating island, surrounded by beautiful greenery, and warm, summer days- and he could remember his family, and his neighbors…
But he could hardly remember how he got to Prime in the first place.
He knew he was far from home- and he knew it had something to do with his dad, and with the Greats- but anything past that was just… spotty, and made him feel even more confused.
Something happened to Virion when he got on Prime.
And now, instead of being as sharp as he usually was, he almost felt like a shell of his former self, lumbering around the prison with his friends, and wanting to go home all the time- stuck in a horrible cycle that would last for a very long time.
-
On one of those nights- as Virion stayed awake, feeling so upset that he could hardly move- he saw something.
In the prison, because of the power dampeners, nobody was supposed to be able to use any magic.
And yet, he caught the sight of a bright orange light that flickered over in the corner of his vision.
He sat up in an instant. An orb- something almost resembling the flame of a fire, everchanging in its shape- was just flickering in the corner of his cell. And as it moved, Virion watched it coldly.
Though he didn't know what it was, he still didn't like the look of it. Something about the way it moved- crackling, and jarring, instead of the smooth way a regular fire would- set him on edge…
And then, like it had suddenly lost interest in him, the light squeezed between the bars of his cell. And it was gone.
-
The next morning, everyone seemed to be in a panic.
Virion woke up late. And then, when he finally peeled himself out of bed, and walked towards the door, he was helpfully informed that the entire prison was on lockdown for the time being.
And it remained that way for hours. Until the sun was at its highest point in the sky, and the guards- begrudgingly, he noticed- let them all file into the cafeteria for food. Virion had to deal with some gentle pushing from the other prisoners, all eager to get something to eat, but he was too distracted to care.
And when he finally met up with his friends, he noticed a strange tension in the air. Both of them were on edge.
“Someone in the prison got possessed last night.” William explained, the minute Virion asked about it. “And everyone's been running around, and trying to deal with it…”
They both seemed anxious, at first… but then, after a knowing look shared, Virion quickly realized that it wasn't just anxiety- but anticipation, as well. Like they were waiting for something to happen… and they were waiting for the opportunity to jump.
Virion found himself getting nervous as well, even if he didn't know what for.
“Are we going to get possessed?”
“We won't.”
It seemed that it was always a matter of asking the right questions with them. Virion's face pinched.
“Do they have it handled?”
William pressed his lips together.
“No. They don't.” William said, even quieter than he usually was. And then, before Virion could snap and tell him to be blunt, he finally said, “New Guy… Maybe you have a shot of getting out of here after all.”
Virion's back straightened out.
Then he looked around, just to be sure that nobody was listening, before he asked, “Really?”
William's eyes were trained carefully onto the door.
“I know there's something wrong with this one.” He mumbled, and he was now fidgeting along with it, even though his head remained still, “They kept us in lockdown too long, and there's too many people keeping an eye on us. And if anything happens…” He leaned in closer, and got quieter, “Get ready to run. It doesn't matter where you go, or what you do- if you're smart about it, you can make it out of here.”
Immediately, Virion's appetite was gone. Dakota happily ate the rest of his portion for him, after offering it up.
A while passed before anything happened. The cafeteria- with all the other prisoners loudly chatting all around them- had a strange air about it, as the three of them waited in bated breath. It could be at any time, William muttered, but if they were on their guard, then they had a chance.
And then, as if on cue, he heard a thud in the distance.
The sound echoed in the hallways, and nobody else seemed to notice it at first… But with his acute hearing, Virion heard it, and it made him jump.
It was unnatural, and loud. It was his ticket out of here, he realized excitedly.
“What?” William muttered, when Virion turned around to face the door.
Then there was another thud.
And another.
The rest of the prisoners only seemed to care about the noises once a scream rang out- quiet, through the walls of the prison, but deafening, in the silence that soon followed it.
Then there was another sound- something that sounded like a scuffle in the hall, with thuds, and heavy slams against the walls. A nd once it was something undeniable, the cafeteria was set into motion.
Everyone was getting out of their seats, leaving their trays behind, and pressing against the walls- just as far from the doors as they could get, in that room. The guards were yelling at everyone to stay calm. William and Dakota, like the rest of the prisoners, were getting out of their seats, and slowly walking towards the wall.
“If it gets in here…” William tugged Virion's sleeve, and pulled him away from the door. Virion followed without a word. “Make sure it doesn't see you.”
When Virion looked over at them, he noticed that the expressions on their faces were wildly different. While William's was a little intense, and anxious… Dakota almost seemed excited. He was watching the door with blatant anticipation, lips curling into a grin, and knuckles being quietly cracked under the palm of his other hand.
Nothing happened for a while.
They heard various noises- the sounds of someone, possibly possessed, causing a bunch of problems on the other side of the doors- as guards came flooding in and out of the doors of the cafeteria.
A few of the prisoners seemed to be nervously talking amongst themselves, a few of them even raising their voices- but the main majority were silent, and ready to move.
Finally, the doors were shut, and even barred to keep anyone else from getting in, or out.
There was a moment of silence before the final storm. Before something- big, hulking, and absolutely terrifying- slammed into the door just hard enough to leave an impressive dent. Everyone, with a similar exclamation, backed away as much as they could. But despite the bar keeping the door closed, it wasn't enough to keep it from getting in.
The demon peeled open the door- metal bending, and creaking, with the entire cafeteria holding their breaths- and once there was an opening wide enough for the demon to look inside, Virion caught the sight of a crazed face, and a pair of glowing eyes accompanying it. (It was the same look that the robber had- his gut told him- the same eyes, and the same face…)
Despite the guards' best efforts, it got inside with the rest of them, and grabbed the first person it could reach.
And then, as if to show off its overwhelming strength, that prisoner was thrown to the other side of the room, and slammed against the wall with a sickening crack.
There was a brief pause as they all watched the victim peel off the wall, and hit the ground.
Then, the cafeteria delved into chaos.
Everyone made way for the demon to get in, and everyone was trying their best to avoid them, but not everyone was lucky enough to avoid getting caught by it. Anyone who got caught was either thrown, or ruthlessly torn apart- and there was no telling who would be next.
Some tried to apprehend the demon, but the majority were trying to get out through the hole it made in the door. As were Dakota and William, he noticed- with William practically dragging Dakota away by the arm, since the other was engrossed in the fight, and watching it with wide eyes. With a huff, and obvious frustration, Dakota was pulled away from the cafeteria, and out the exit.
Virion was right on their heels, for a moment-
But just as his friends left through the only opening, and disappeared out of sight- the power dampeners on Virion’s wrists deactivated. There was a click and a hiss as it opened up, and then a loud clatter as it hit the floor, along with all the other prisoner's cuffs.
He almost tried to catch it, out of instinct- wrists slapping together- but then, before he could even process what was going on, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.
There was a bright surge of energy coming from across the room.
And when Virion’s head whipped around, he saw that it wasn’t coming from the demon. It was coming from another prisoner- someone that the demon was holding up by the collar of their shirt- thrashing around, and holding their hands up against the demon’s face.
There was a bright flash of light. Virion ducked out of instinct, but it didn’t hit him.
It scorched the ceiling, and it hit the demon’s face with a force that Virion could feel the shockwaves of- but the demon didn’t seem affected by it. He couldn’t see the damage, but it remained stoic, and still.
Then the demon slammed the prisoner into the ground head-first, and the prisoner didn’t get up again.
With their newfound freedoms, instead of trying their hand at getting a hit on the demon, the rest of the prisoners were all using their abilities to get as far away from the demon as possible.
Holes were blasted into the walls and the ceiling to create new exits for them to get through, and everyone was either climbing or flying out-
Everyone was desperate to leave. Virion could remember William telling him to do the same once he got the chance, and saying he’d be smart to do so…
But something kept him grounded there. Be it fear, or whatever else it could be, Virion could only stand there, and watch the carnage unfolding in front of him.
The cafeteria, with every victim the demon could get its hands on, was being splattered with blood and gore.
And when the demon turned to face him, the sight was enough to make Virion’s stomach turn. Half of its face had melted off from the energy blast, but it was still moving around just as fluidly as it'd been before it got hit…
And even though it didn't keep its sights on Virion- distracted by yet another prisoner trying to run away- Virion found that he couldn't look away.
“New guy!” Virion's head twitched at the sound of William's voice, but he didn't meet his eye. He couldn't look away from the possessed prisoner. “Come on, now’s our chance!”
Dakota was probably long gone by now. William had the option to run away as well- he was so close to freedom that he could almost taste it, and those supposed heroes hadn’t even shown up yet- and yet, instead of leaving, he was waiting for Virion to come along with him.
And Virion had a choice.
He could leave with William and Dakota, just like they all wanted to. They could hide from the heroes, and Virion could find some way to get back home, and they would all be just fine…
At the moment, it seemed like the better option. Virion was still violently homesick, and he did not want to spend another minute in this isolating hell… on top of that, he couldn't possibly fight against the possessed. He's never fought anything like it before. He was hardly qualified.
But at the same time, as Virion looked back at the chaos- back at all the people that’d been killed, or hurt- and all he could think about was what William said.
These possessed- or these demons, possessing people- were slowly but surely becoming more common (even if, it seemed, the heroes weren’t taking it as seriously as they needed to). It was nearly impossible to dispel the evil that was making them so. After this, if things went back to normal, the prisoner would have a long, painful trial to get through, and that would determine whether his sentence would get worse…
But right now, innocent or not, he was a danger to himself and others. Virion watched as the demon came barrelling towards someone else- someone that could’ve been like them- now trying to fend for their lives against such a terrifying, unrelenting force…
And something twisted inside Virion.
Whatever was possessing this poor man was inherently evil, set on causing chaos, and it made Virion feel viscerally angry. A familiar feeling washed over him- the same one that previously thrummed in his brain, and urged him to save the shop owner from the man that was going to rob her if he hadn’t stepped in-
And a sword was summoned to Virion’s hand.
His form changed. Suddenly- magically forming over his gray prison outfit- he was wearing a heavy set of silver armor. And then, without thinking twice, he was charging at the beast with the sort of skill that he’s never had before.
The fight was a blur.
Virion could remember the charge towards it- taking an attack while the demon’s back was turned to him, and hitting him just before they could ceaselessly take any more lives. He could remember the glow in the demon’s eyes- a bright red, with dread filling him as soon as they made eye contact- but the feeling only made him want to go further.
There was a long, blurry back-and-forth fight, with people around him happily taking the opportunity to flee, guards and prisoners alike.
Virion never felt so alive, shouting at this horrible creature- calling it vile, and monstrous, while the creature in question proved his point by snarling right back at him- and, even though he went into the fight fearing that he'd be outnumbered, he was actually standing a chance.
But then he took a hit that left him winded, and struck the demon with a terrifying blow at the same time.
And after the two of them were left staggering away from their respective impacts- Virion clearly more affected by it than the demon was- he caught the sight of a blur running towards the demon while it was trying to get its footing again.
It was Dakota.
He was moving so fast that he was almost impossible to spot- running up the side of a nearby wall, spinning around, and slamming his foot down onto the demon’s head with a loud crack. With the momentum, he easily jumped out of the demon’s range, but not before running back to get ahold of their arms.
He had a grin on his face, just a tad less wild than the prisoner’s- and even though Virion worried about it for a second, he could tell that he wasn't possessed, he just seemed to be… excited about the fight. And when the demon tried getting up, he slammed his foot against him again.
Dakota restrained the demon, holding it still despite the thrashing. And as the sword disappeared from Virion’s hand, along with the armor he gained- as his mind cleared, and the thrumming stopped, and everything seemed to set back to normal- William approached as well.
“Come on!” Dakota urged, and as the demon tried to get up again, he slammed it back against the ground, and held its head in place, “You have to get the demon out!”
William threw his hands up, “I-I don't-”
“Will, it was possessed last night, there's still a chance!”
Despite the alarm still blaring, Virion heard the sharp intake of breath from William. “Fuck!”
William got closer, and gingerly brought his hands close to the demon’s face- a specific motion, with his thumb touching his forehead first- and even as the demon snapped at him, and he flinched, he still rushed to make contact again. His fingers touched the side of the demon’s face with practiced ease.
Then, with a magic that Virion had never seen before, William pulled something from the prisoner’s head. A bright glow, starting at the fingers, and following William’s hand as he slowly pulled his hand away.
Virion knew immediately that it must’ve been the spirit of the demon. Distantly, he recognized it as the very same ball of energy that was in his cell last night- but this time, instead of just being just a ball of light, it seemed to resemble a face, now- still everchanging, but furious.
It violently twitched his hand, and it glowed orange- and as he pulled the light out, the person that Dakota restrained seemed to go limp. At the same time, Virion noticed that William's movements were slow, and that once the demon was out, he breathed out a shaky sigh of relief.
A horrible energy zapped around William’s fingertips, bleeding subtly into his veins, and Virion watched him handle it- seeing the ball of light go from its horrible orange, to a faint blue, to a bright white, all until it was dispersed entirely.
The demon was gone.
“Is he…?” William whispered.
Dakota pressed two fingers to the prisoner’s neck.
“He's alive.”
There was an alarm still blinking and blaring in the cafeteria, as well as viscera scattered throughout the room from the demon’s attacks, but with no guards to restrain them or prisoners to worry about, everything seemed calm.
“Dakota...” William said, exhausted, and yet still stern. He started rubbing his face with his hands.
Dakota pointed at him.
“You said not to get involved if I was powerless, and I wasn't! Those cuffs came off just in time!” Dakota jumped up to his feet, and breathed out a pleased sigh. “I kicked its ass!”
“We could've been…” William's eyes, for just a second, trailed over to the viscera staining the cafeteria walls. His eyes just as quickly darted away.
“But we weren’t!”
William’s tired eyes then turned over to Virion.
His expression changed- going from tired, to stressed, to slightly annoyed as he asked, “And did you have to get involved?”
Virion’s eyebrows furrowed in turn.
“I thought-” His own sigh of relief turned into a huff, and then several huffs, as Virion was starting to realize just how injured he must’ve been from the fight. “You said- that- it couldn’t be banished.”
“Not easily.” William said in turn, and it was then that Virion heard how exhausted he was. He didn’t even fight, and yet the two of them sounded similarly out of breath, “It’s not our business- New Guy, you should’ve stayed out of it. Both of you should've… We could’ve been out of here by now.”
“We can get out right now-” Dakota tried to chime in.
But he was ignored, for the time being.
Virion’s chest hurt, and he couldn’t tell if it was from his slight anger, or if he’d bruised a rib, earlier. He’d find out after all of the adrenaline completely wore off.
“What-” He spat, almost stumbling over his own words, “What- was I just supposed to let him go?”
“The heroes would’ve handled it.”
Virion took a deep breath- and, Gods, did it hurt. Maybe his ribs were bruised. Or maybe there was another scary, underlying injury that awaited him after he had the time to actually settle down. “Heroes… What heroes? Where are they? Huh?”
“They’ll be here any minute now-!” Dakota said, with a palpable, nervous energy surrounding his words.
Virion huffed again, “You guys could’ve left. I wasn’t just going to- stand around, and do nothing. I’m capable. And now, he can’t hurt anyone anymore, right?”
“Right.” William agreed, but his voice sounded strangely hollow.
“Guys!” Dakota yelled, and the two of them were just startled enough to look over at him, “Why are we just standing here?! The doors are wide open- let’s leave! Come on!”
They relented, and nodded. The heroes weren’t around just yet- they could stand around, and argue all they wanted to once they were far from this horrible place.
Unfortunately, as they were escaping, they all found that the fight took a toll on them. Virion was limping towards the exit with his hand pressed against the pain on his chest, and William couldn’t seem to run very fast in general.
With a loud, frustrated groan, Dakota rushed over to William, and slung him over his shoulder so quickly and effortlessly that Virion thought that William just genuinely didn’t weigh much.
But then he did the same thing with Virion, slinging him over his shoulder in the blink of an eye.
“Hold on!” Was the only warning they got before Dakota finally sped out of the prison, and in the same direction that so many prisoners were previously piling through.