If I Outrun Death

by glow (aft3rgl0w)

Summary:

Once you conquer death, all of time will be yours to keep.

Six years ago, famed vigilante Albatross killed several heroes at a meeting. He vanished into thin air, and since then, vigilante laws have cracked down. Most former vigilantes either joined the heroes, or have disappeared entirely.

Saparata never wanted the limelight. Sure, he’d wanted to help people, but he didn’t expect to be dragged into becoming a hero. Now he’s got more to worry about than what's for dinner, or if the journalist who follows him everywhere knows more than he lets on.

He’ll find a way to get out of it, and go back to being normal.

It seems easy enough, right?
He’s dead wrong.

Soon enough, Saps finds himself at the center of something bigger than everything he’s ever known, and secrets that should’ve been long dead are suddenly reappearing left and right. Something's wrong, and Saps, screw his moral compass, has to get to the bottom of it.

Hopefully, he’ll make it out alive.

 

or; state smp vigilante au, the fic

Notes:

HELLO!!!

welcome to what's going to be probably a very long fic...so buckle up!
the prologue, to set the stage for all yet to come.
a look into where things first went wrong.

Chapter 1: Something Might Go Very Wrong

Alarm bells are blaring. Light floods the darkness, in hues of yellow, orange and white. Lightning strikes, and there’s suddenly silence. 

The warehouse went up in flames, electrical systems in charge of those alarms melted and burnt in an instant. Whatever was inside is gone now, and only ashes will remain when the fire is eventually put out. 

 

Empyrea–better known as Cynikka–stands tall, her shadow looming as blazes burn behind her. The leader of a villain group known as Infernus. They’re known for their arson and pyrotechnics; wherever they are, fire and ruin follows closely behind. Empyrea remains untouchable, for she has legions of members who will burn worlds at her command, and is a force to be reckoned with simply on her own. 

 

The combined forces of Infernus? Destructive, and not one anyone ever really goes after. Heroes have tried. They fall when lightning crashes through the skies.

 

Cynikka controls the underground, all the parts of the world people pretend they don’t see. There were some who came before her, but they didn’t last. The hellfires of Infernus will burn eternal, until she falls. But Cynikka has always crushed her enemies with the bright flash of lightning and a fist that bears fingertips singed from years of fire, and her fall will not come for a long time. 

 

Those who dared to challenge her didn’t last long. Hellion, a smaller villain who was also known as Lingulini, tried to take control. He was struck down, and though there is no actual proof it was her, everyone knows who called for it. 

 

As the fire continues to burn, ash coats the air all around. The smog is thick, and it’s slowly becoming harder to see. But Cynikka does not flinch, does not show any signs of the pollution getting to her. She stares onward, steely determination evident in her void-like eyes. A figure approaches her, likely a member of Infernus.

 

“Lady Empyrea, this one was found lurking near the scene. What would you like us to do?”

 

The figure, clad in a hooded black cloak, deposits a boy at her feet. There’s a glint of purple as they straighten.

 

Cynikka examines the boy. He doesn’t look older than seventeen. There’s a lanyard around his neck, and a camera hangs from his shoulder. He clutches a notepad as he pulls his purple jacket closer around him. Shockingly, he looks more confused than actually concerned for his life.

“Um, hi. Sorry to uh…interrupt your little arson kick. Got a tip there’s a story here, and of course I HAD to check it out.”

 

She stares at him.

 

“Oh, right! I suppose you probably don’t know me. The name’s Sidefall, and I’m the head journalist and lead editor for The Warden, Statessempi’s one and only newspaper!”

 

He joyfully holds out a business card to her. She takes it and spares it a quick glance before it’s burnt to ashes. 

 

Sidefall clearly doesn’t seem to know what he’s gotten into. Any normal person would shake in fear and beg for mercy, when standing before Infernus. 

 

“Kid, do you know who I am?”

 

He actually pauses to think.

 

“Oh, you’re Empyrea, right? Leader of Infernus, scary villain?”

 

“Yes. Why are you here?”

 

“Like I said, chasing a scoop. The people need good news!”

 

She sighs. 

 

“Take him away. We can deal with him back at the Volcano.”

 

The hooded figure grabs Sidefall by his arms, and he finally starts to protest. He’s flailing around quite pathetically, but the figure wastes no energy dragging him off. Infernus starts to dissipate, as there’s no hope of recovering anything inside the warehouse now. There’s also the distant sound of sirens, and while they can’t do much against Infernus, it’s still a bit inconvenient. 

 

Just as Sidefall is about to be shoved in the back of an Infernus truck, a flash of white sends both Sidefall and the figure flying. 

 

“Step away.”

 

Standing out like a sore thumb, in a sea of black and red, is a blur of white. Upon further inspection, they’re wearing a strange mask with two black circles in place of eyes. The outfit is mostly white, but there’s black accents all throughout. 

 

“And just who are you? Interfering with Infernus, do people these days just not know their places?”

 

Lightning crackles between Cynikka’s fingertips, as the hooded figure draws a sword and charges toward the person in white. Their swords clash, and a powerful blow sends what’s  probably Infernus Goon No.143 flying yet again.

 

Shit.

 

Saparata did NOT think this far. He can’t exactly go around telling people his real name, especially not when he’s being Basically A Vigilante. He ponders his options, before blurting out something decently random but good enough for an alias. 

 

“The name is…Orphic. Listen, I’m not here to cause anything, just let my friend here, uh…”

 

He looks at the boy expectantly. “What’s your name again?” is asked in a whisper.

“Sidefall.”

 

“Yes, that. Let my friend Sidefall here go free, and I’ll get out of your way. Deal?”

 

Empyrea doesn’t seem to like that. With a flick of her wrist, lighting crawls towards him, and he manages to dodge with only seconds to spare. She might’ve singed the tips of his hair. 

 

Guess he’s doing this the hard way. 

 

He whisks Sidefall behind him.

 

“When I count to three, you’re gonna run, okay? They’re not going to follow you, but don’t look back. Got that?”

 

Sidefall gives him a thumbs up, and Saps counts down. 

 

Three.

 

Two.

 

One.

 

Saps draws his sword, and slashes faster than light. He can hear Sidefall running behind him, and once he’s sure no Infernus members follow him, Saps continues. He makes sure to use the blunt end of his sword, because he’d rather not actually kill anyone right now. Lightning bolts are shot at him with deadly precision, and he manages to dodge most of them.

 

He continues trading blows, until sirens are heard in the distance. Infernus starts their retreat, because while they can probably handle a few cops, it’s still inconvenient for them. He makes his way out, not very stealthily though, because white isn’t the best for that. But none of them seem to notice him.

Sidefall is found sitting on a bench outside a park. He’s scribbling furiously in his notepad, and doesn’t seem to notice Saparata come up behind him. 

 

“You good?”

 

The boy jumps in surprise, and turns to look at Saps. A grin slowly replaces the shock. 

 

“Yeah, I am, thanks! So, Orphic, huh? New hero?”

 

He shrugs. “I guess you could say that.”

 

Sidefall whips out another business card, and presses it into Saps’ hand. 

 

“Well, have a great evening! Check out The Warden when you get the chance! And if you want to schedule an interview, or got a great story, you know where to find me!”

 

And with that, Sidefall heads off. Saps looks at the card in his hand, and makes his way back to his apartment.

Saparata’s apartment is great.

Maybe that’s an overstatement.

It’s decent.

 

That’s a lie.

It’s liveable at best. It’s the most cramped thing ever–the kitchen, dining room (if you can even call it that) and living room are all in the one, singular large room, and it branches off into a small bedroom the size of a closet and an even smaller bathroom. The twin sized bed barely fits in the bedroom, but hey, it works. 

 

He sits down at the table, and pulls out his laptop, which is probably one wrong move away from exploding. He searches up the newspaper Sidefall mentioned earlier, and the kid wasn’t wrong about it being State’s biggest newspaper. 

 

The Warden has been around for about seven years, and Sidefall has written on every single edition, which means the kid has been running this thing since he was eleven. He’d hate to have to keep a secret from him, because he’s clearly good at what he does. 

 

Saps clicks on a random one. It’s from six years ago, and he skims through it, though he stops when he gets to the ‘Breaking News’ section.

 

He’s shoved into an unwilling trip down memory lane.

 

---

 

Six years before present.

Fluixon, Saparata, and Jophiel stand in Theria HQ.

 

If you can even call it a proper HQ. It’s really just a storage rental unit with a lopsided sign that says Theria in shitty spraypaint that Flux found in his garage. There’s a singular table and exactly three chairs. Two years ago, they’d all chipped in to rent it, back when dreams were just dreams and they didn’t think they’d actually become anyone remarkable. 

 

Jophiel called them there saying she had an important announcement. Saps is mid-bite into a peach, juice dripping down his arm and probably staining his white sleeves. Flux stares at him in horror.

 

“Why the fuck are you biting into it.”

 

“Cause I can.”

 

“Dude, that’s gross. Cut it, you fucking moron.”

 

“No. It’s my peach and I’ll do what I want. Also, we don’t even have silverware here.”

 

“You literally have the power to turn things into swords. You can cut your peach.”

 

Saps thinks for a moment.

 

He takes another bite. Flux’s eye visibly twitches. He grabs the sleeve of the hand Saps is holding the peach with, and rolls it up. 

 

“At least roll up your sleeves.”

 

Jophiel forces back a smile as she looks at them. It’s been years, and yet they’re both still the same as when they were kids. Still chaotic as ever. She clears her throat, and they turn their focus to her.

 

“As you both know, I called you here to make an announcement.”

 

It’s still so surreal, this moment, even though she hasn’t even said it yet. It’s a choice that will likely change their lives. 

 

“I’m joining the heroes. I’m leaving Theria. I start next week.”

 

Their jaws drop. Saps stares at her, his hand paused from where he was mid-bite. Flux is wide eyed, the gears in his head turning at rapid-fire speeds. Neither speak.

 

“I know what you’re going to say. Trust me, the choice wasn’t easy. But they offered me a spot, and I’d be a bit of a fool not to take it. It’s a chance to help even more people, and get more access to resources to help them as well. It was always what we aspired to be, is it not?”

 

Flux is the first to speak. It’s tentative and a little hesitant.

 

“I understand. I get that. I’m…happy for you, Jophiel.”

 

Her gaze softens.

 

“Flux, I’m not going to leave you guys entirely. Sure, I won’t be officially associated with Theria anymore. But I’ll still be in contact with you guys, I’m still on your side. I always will be. It’s just a matter of me moving on to bigger things. And you guys eventually will, too. That was always going to happen. Things were always going to change.”

 

He just nods at that. Doesn’t say anything else. 

 

Saps finally says something. The words come out quieter than he thought they would.

 

“I guess. I just…didn’t think it’d be so soon. But I’m glad you got that opportunity. Don’t let it go to waste, but don’t forget us either, okay?”

 

Jophiel smiles, puts her hands on both their shoulders before pulling them in.

 

“Like I’d ever. Don’t get yourselves killed, and don’t be strangers. You can always reach out if you need anything, that won’t ever change.”

 

There’s about three seconds of silence before one of them says something stupid, and the room immediately lightens. The rest of the day is spent laughing about the shit they’ve done and reminiscing on the past. 

 

In those days, Theria was just a group of three soon-to-be vigilantes who wanted to change the world. None of them ever expected to become as popular as they did. 

Jophiel’s first mistake was trusting that Fluixon and Saparata would not get themselves killed.

 

On their first time out since she “left”, they’ve already fallen off a building, and almost gotten hit by a car twice. It’s going great.

 

By the end of the week, the newspapers seem to have caught on that Jophiel has left, or is currently absent from Theria. In two weeks, she’ll make her hero debut. The headlines read as follows;

 

THIS JUST IN: Aureus, member of vigilante group Theria, is rumored to have left the group. She has not been sighted recently, however, both Architect and Albatross are very much active still. Did the group have a possible falling out? Did something happen to Aureus? The world may soon find out.

Flux and Saps realize just how much Jophiel actually did, after they collapse on the floor of the storage unit for the fifth time that week. Their schedules are a mess, and they keep almost getting into accidents, but they’re saving people, and that’s what counts in the long run.

Everything else aside, at the very least, they have each other still. And both are sure that won’t change for a long, long time.

Chapter 2: The Long Way Down

Summary:

it’s generally not a good idea to run into things without a plan.
but some people will run forever if they can.

 

the beginning of the end, and when everything started to fall.

Notes:

thank you all SOOO much for all the love you've given to the first chapter!
potentially a lot of angst early on, but there's a LOT more planned for the future as well...

 

if you saw me delete and re-update because of an error...no you didnt.

---

Six years before present.

 

Saparata should really learn to swim.

 

Better yet, he should just stop getting himself thrown into water at all. For starters, maybe stop getting into fights near bodies of water.

 

The water’s ice cold this time of year, despite the fact the weather itself isn’t. So cold to the point it feels like your chest is being crushed. Like the weight of the cold is a force that threatens to swallow you whole, and there’s nothing you can do to fight it. Your bones lock up in a way you don’t think you’ve known before, and it threatens to freeze your core. 

 

The feeling of water dragging you under as your mind instinctively screams to get out, that it’s too cold, but you can’t because everything’s locked up and paralyzed. 

 

The fact Saps doesn’t know how to do anything in the water except float doesn’t help either. 

 

Every time he’s thrown in, Fluixon drags him back out, and they both end up on the shore freezing and gasping for air. The weather is unforgiving this time of year, as snow is on the horizon, and it’s honestly a shock the water isn’t fully frozen over yet. 

 

It hasn’t even been ten minutes since they started fighting when Saps is launched into the waves near the dock. They were chasing a group of robbers, when one comes out of nowhere with a car and hits Saps, who goes flying.

 

Flux laughs about it for two minutes as he gathers the robbers into some kind of illusory box, one Saps doesn’t really care to know the details of. He spends another minute cackling at Saps while he flails around, before finally dragging him back out. 

 

“You seriously need to learn how to swim. This is what, the third time this month? It’s a wonder how you don’t have hypothermia yet.”

 

“I can swim!”

 

Saps most definitely cannot swim.

 

“The water is just fucking cold, Flux. If you actually jumped in, you would know.”

 

“I did jump in, that first time you got thrown in. Yeah, it was cold, but I could still swim!”

 

“What if we just…stop getting into fights near the water, yeah?”

 

“I think a majority of the people we fight actually purposely go there now, because it’s so easy to toss you in the water. You’re basically useless, and out of the two of us, you’re probably the bigger threat.”

 

“I don’t know if I should be offended or complimented.”

 

Flux shrugs at that. He tosses Saps a towel he pulled from Ish knows where, and they walk back to the storage unit.

It’s weirdly quiet. Not necessarily uncomfortable, just unfamiliar. The space mourns Jophiel’s presence, just as they do. She still visits sometimes, but her influence is slowly fading. Colors once filled the room, but now it’s mostly just black and white, and just the tiniest hint of purple. 

 

Fluixon sits on one of their three chairs and kicks his feet onto the table. Normally, Jophiel would scold him about it, but she’s not here, and Saparata really doesn’t care. In fact, Saps might be worse than he is. He’ll end up sprawled out on the table, or flat out standing on it when he gets bored. 

 

He skims through the pages of a newspaper. Dubbed “The Warden”, it’s quickly risen to popularity and considered Statessempi’s daily paper, the no. 1 source for news. There’s not much noteworthy, just general stuff about people he doesn’t care all that much about. 

 

There’s a segment on one of the heroes, Alkaline. Flux is reminded of how much he hates him. Tried to get them arrested way back, over conflicting opinions. The guy’s too much of a pacifist, and thought the best way to get a bunch of armed mafia guys selling weapons was to talk to them nicely.

 

News flash: it doesn’t work. People like that generally don’t like it when you try to talk to them. 

 

The segment’s just some kind of interview, though it’s a strange one. The interviewer asked random, trivial questions, and they didn’t really relate to a superhero interview at all. Stuff like “opinions on salmon or cod” and “do you prefer the color yellow to green”. 

 

Then something catches his eye. Written in the margins of an article about a recent arrest, is a blurb about there being chemicals that could supposedly take powers away. 

 

Stuff like that’s usually fake, meant to cause drama. It happens all the time. But there’s something off about this. The Warden is usually a credible newspaper, and they don’t really have a history of propaganda. Sure, it’s exaggerated truths sometimes, but it’s generally still true nonetheless.

 

Flux examines it more. Coincidentally, a few letters are just ever so slightly bolded, almost unnoticeable. But he’s been taught to look for anything and everything. The bolded text reveals an address: 13 Nevermore Way.

 

He should mention this to Saps. Yet he doesn’t, not right away. Because he knows the first thing Saps will say is that they should tell the heroes, or at the very least, Jophiel.

 

Don’t get him wrong– Saps is his best friend. He’d trust him with his life. But sometimes, it’s generally better not to get the heroes involved. They’re all pacifists, so anti-violence, softer than a pile of feathers. They don’t get that sometimes, you need to throw hands before you can get your point across. Some people don’t listen when you try talking at them. 

 

People always listen once there’s blood. 

 

Flux thinks about it more, if he should tell Saps right away, or check it out on his own. The rational Flux, the one influenced by Saps and Jophiel, says he should. The Flux that thinks purely for himself tells him to wait. 

 

The angel on his shoulder wins. He taps Saps, who is doing a handstand on the table, on the arm. Shows him the paper. Thankfully, he spots it right away, which saves Flux from having to explain that yes, there are bolded letters. 

 

“We should tell Jophiel.”

 

Flux tosses the table in his mind. He knew that’s exactly what Saps was going to say. He wasn’t ever a fan of that option. And yet he goes and does that even though he knows it’s going to give him the more undesirable outcome of the two. He’s going to stupidly try to talk Saps out of it, despite the fact he knows he can’t change his mind. 

 

“I mean, yeah, but…I was thinking we could check it out on our own.”

Saps frowns at that. Flux can see the gears turning.

 

“I don’t know, Flux. If it is true, then maybe we should let the heroes know, just in case it’s actually a huge thing. I don’t doubt our own capabilities, but if what the thing’s saying is true, then it might be bigger than just the two of us.”

 

“Fine fine, how about we compromise? You can like, let them know beforehand, but we go and check it out regardless of what they say.”

 

“That’s a horrible compromise. It literally defeats the purpose of telling them.”

 

“Not necessarily.”

 

“Dude. Why are you so insistent on not telling them or going even if they were to theoretically say no?”

 

“Cause they piss me off. They’re all so soft, and think everything will go their way through talking. It won’t. Talking just gets you killed.”

 

“That’s…harsh.”

 

Saps sits on the table cross-legged. He fidgets with his hands. Flux is unreadable, his face a mixture of annoyance and something else.

 

“It’s true.”

 

“If I accept your compromise, do you promise you’ll at least not go barging in and try to beat up everyone in sight?”

 

“Of course. Cross my heart.”

 

Saps sighs. This is a terrible compromise. It’s definitely going to get them in a shitload of trouble. But it’s Flux, and he’s always trusted his judgement in the long run. 

 

“Fine. I’ll let Jophiel know about it tonight, and we can go tomorrow.”

 

“Knew I’d convince you eventually.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

And Saps calls Jophiel, who tells him it’s hopefully nothing but will keep an eye out. 

 

They end up grabbing pasta from some place down the block, and it’s not the greatest, but food is food.

 

When the sun starts to set, and the sky is bathed in a warm, reddish orange hue, they go their separate ways with plans to meet as soon as the sun rises the next day. 

13 Nevermore Way seems like a normal house, but there’s something slightly unsettling about it. 

 

They meet at the storage unit, just as the sun is coming up. There’s a bit of an autumn chill in the air. 

 

Most houses in the Nevermore area are a bit older than others, but are decently sized, elegant, gothic architecture. House 13 is no exception. The exterior is covered in sprawling ivy, but in a way that adds to the aesthetic.

 

Saparata looks at Fluixon.

 

“Should I cut the door from its hinges?”

 

“No, you dumbass. Try the handle first.”

 

“Why would it be unlocked? It doesn’t look like anyone’s lived here in years.”

 

“Try the handle anyways.”

“Fine.”

 

Saps tries the handle. The door opens with a click.

 

Flux gives him the “I told you so” look. He gets the finger in return.

 

The places is strangely well maintained, in a way that betrays the exterior. There’s a noticeable lack of dust anywhere, and the lights, though dim, work well enough. They don’t flicker or crackle. Saps drags a finger along the railing of the stairs.

 

“Place seems normal enough.”

 

“We’ve been in here for two minutes.”

 

They look through each room. So far, there’s been a kitchen, a dining room, and a bathroom, but they’ve yet to go upstairs. Saps holds a stick he found outside. It’s a good weight, and he likes the length too. It might not look like much, but it’ll come in use later, should a fight come. 

 

Upstairs, there’s three bedrooms and another bedroom. All fully furnished, but don’t seem lived in. Like it’s all for show.

 

“There’s literally nothing strange. It’s just a normal house.”

 

“No, no, there’s definitely something.”

 

“Share with the class, will you?”

 

Flux has always had a sixth sense for being able to see the unseen, and whatnot. All he needs to focus, and suddenly they stand in front of a bookshelf at the far end of the hall on the top floor.

 

“It’s just a bookshelf.”

 

“Most of those books aren’t actually there. It’s just a byproduct of someone with very strong illusion powers.”

 

“How’d you know?”

 

“Most people with powers that fall under the illusion umbrella tend to be a little better at seeing through them. Takes one to know one. This one was actually rather difficult, though.”

 

Flux takes a blue book from the middle of the shelf. He reaches backwards, and presses something. There’s a click, and the shelf swings inwards, to reveal a pathway with cobwebs.

 

“What the fuck.”

 

“Told you so.”

 

“Flux, I think we should stop.”

 

“We just found the secret passageway and now you want to stop?”

 

“We don’t know what’s down there. It could be something horrible and we have no backup.”

 

“It’ll be fine. Are you forgetting we’re literally two-thirds of Theria?”

 

“I just- ugh. Fine. But be cautious.”

“Yes, yes, mom.”

 

Saps sends a message to Jophiel anyways, requesting her to send someone to their location anyways, just as a precaution. It sends just as they descend low enough for service to cut out. 

 

The room they enter is damp and dark. The switch is turned on, and unlike the lights upstairs, with the warm dim that fit the interior, these lights are harsh and fluorescent. Saps tenses as he notices three large glass tubes lining the wall, and the tables and tables of equipment and papers.

 

“This definitely looks like a hidden lab.”

 

“Yeah. But how long has this thing been abandoned?”

“I don’t-”

 

Saps is cut off by a loud creaking noise, and they both immediately freeze. They have no clue what the creaking is, but there’s a very large chance it could be whoever lives there. And they’re probably not that friendly to vigilantes who break into their house for answers. 

 

As they dash behind a table at the far end of the room, Flux casts an illusion across them, but his movements are hesitant. Whoever cast the illusions previously here is, with no doubt, very strong, and may see through it right away. They brace for impact.

But nothing happens. The creaking stops, and after what feels like forever, they finally move. Saparata stumbles backwards, and there’s a click. Fluixon stares at him incredulously. 

 

“Did you just step on a fucking pressure plate.”

 

“Um. Potentially.”

 

The temperature in the room feels like it dropped thirty degrees, but that could also be the realization that they have no clue what was activated by stepping on the plate. 

 

Flux sees it before Saps does. A faint, barely noticeable, pink gas fills the room. Flux’s mask covers the lower half of his face, so he should be fine, but he screams at Saps to cover his mouth and nose and not to breathe in the gas. 

 

Saps doesn’t react. He just stands there, as still as stone while Flux screams at him.

 

There’s something different in his eyes. Like he’s distant and far from his body, but still there all the same. 

 

And then, in a sudden movement, Saps raises the stick and slashes at him in a sideways arc. The stick has incredible range, and Flux only barely manages to dodge it. A piece of fabric from his jacket wasn’t so lucky, and it flutters to the floor from the clean edge where it was cut. 

 

“Saps, what the fuck?”

 

No response. 

 

Saps continues to advance forward, stick in his hand. But it’s not really a stick, not anymore. It’s a sword now, just like everything else Saps holds and deems worthy enough of his power. Flux makes as much distance as he can between them, but the room is still decently small, and Saps has always had more endurance and stamina than him. Flux can’t run forever. They both know it.

He has no clue what’s gotten into Saps. It’s likely the gas, but Flux has no idea how to get it out of him, before he gets shredded into millions of pieces. 

 

Flux seems to have underestimated the length of the stick, because it’s suddenly just inches away from his face. He casts up an illusory construct, but physical objects were always his weakness and he knows they’re no match for Saps’ swords. 

 

“Saps, snap out of it.”

 

Nothing. Not even the slightest change in his eyes. The sword  stick continues to press down towards him.

 

“Saps. Saparata.”

 

The use of his full name does the trick, it seems. The light shifts in Saps’ eyes, and his expression changes to one of confusion, but he doesn’t back away or move the stick away from him.

 

“Flux?”

 

“Can you move the stick away from my fucking face? I don’t know what the fuck has gotten into you, but it’s literally about to kill me.”

 

“I– can’t. Like, literally. I can’t move any of my limbs. I’d stop if I could, but I can’t control my body at all. I don’t know what’s going on.”

 

Shit.

 

The construct breaks, and as the stick comes down, time seems to slow, just for a moment. Flux instinctively raises his arm to shield his face and brace for impact, because it’s just a stick.

 

But the sword goes clean through. 

And the pain is blinding. It’s white-hot and Fluixon thinks he sees stars. He sees ghosts of his past that have escaped their caskets and clutches his arm in a feeble attempt to stop the bleeding. Red is everywhere, seeping through his clothes and onto the floor. 

 

Saparata, or whatever is piloting his body, raises the stick for another strike, but in a split second, Saps manages to gain control back, and the sword is sent flying across the room, and he’s at Flux’s side in an instant.

 

He reaches for Flux’s arm, to assess the damage.

 

Well, at least where his arm should’ve been. 

Because where there was once a complete lower half of his arm, there’s now copious amounts of blood and no elbow with a hand connected to it. Saps looks around, and sees it just at his side. He fights the urge to vomit, because there’s so much blood, and he’s horrified that it was his hand that caused this. Whether he was in control or not is of little matter to him, compared to the waves of guilt that wash over him. 

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Flux, I’m– I don’t know how this happened. I– I’m trying to stop the bleeding, but there’s just so much and–”

 

“Go get help. I can hold out for a bit longer.”

 

“There’s no service down here!”

 

“Just– get someone, anyone.”

 

Saps doesn’t want to leave Flux alone, down there. But his condition will only worsen if he doesn’t get help, so Saps begrudgingly sprints up the stairs until he has service and calls for help. The people he'd asked Jophiel to send earlier are close. He thanks every star for that.

As Saparata’s white-clad figure fades from view, Fluixon stares at the figures around him. Someone, probably Jophiel, had once told him about how the brain replays it’s happiest memories for seven minutes after death. Part of him wonders if that’s what this is, because he sees people he didn’t think he’d ever see again. 

 

The ghosts he sees have been gone for years, but they’re people who ultimately made him who he was. He sees his sister, his father, people from his childhood who should be long gone. They don’t say anything to him, but their apparent presence gives him solace nonetheless. 

 

The corners of his vision start to fade out, and it’s been a long moment since he could actually hear anything. Saps’ concerned face, filled with concern for him, is the last thing he sees before the world fades into nothing.

Saparata paces the hall. Jophiel stands, leaning against the wall, her expression unreadable. The doctors had said if help had arrived any later, it’s likely Fluixon would’ve had permanent nerve damage, or gone into shock from the copious amounts of blood lost. 

 

“I should’ve never agreed to go.”

 

“It’s not your fault, Saps. No one could’ve predicted that.”

 

“The article said there was work on something that could take powers away. We– no, I, should’ve been more cautious.”

 

They’d run tests on the minor amounts of gas that lingered in the room. Most of it had become ineffective within the hour, but they’d gotten a small sample, and tested for whatever remained in Saps’ system.

It had the power to puppet people’s bodies, activate the innate, violent tendencies within a power. A complete loss of control.

 

“Stop blaming yourself. I also told you it was probably nothing. That’s my fault too.”

 

“No, you of all people should not be blaming yourself. You had no idea that was in there.”

 

They could go back and forth for hours. But they don’t, and there’s silence with the hum of machines from the operating room.

 

Jophiel pulled some strings. Flux will have a state-of-the-art metal prosthetic when he wakes up, one that responds just as a normal arm would. All it lacks is the fingerprints and warmth of a real one.

Time passes, achingly and unbearingly slow. Soon enough, Fluixon is out of surgery, and all they need to do is wait for him to wake up. 

 

Saparata waits by his side. It takes consistent nagging and a promise to notify him as soon as Flux wakes up from Jophiel before he agrees to change out of his gear and take a shower, because he’s likely coated in layers of sweat and dried blood.

 

The white fabric is probably permanently stained. There’s huge, dark red patches all across it. It’s tossed absentmindedly into the trash, and the water is scalding hot as what feels like years of tension wash away. The water is stained slightly orange-red when he finishes.

Saps returns to the room with his now slightly damp hair in a messy braid, because Flux was always the one who did his hair, and Saps never bothered to learn himself. Flux is still asleep in the bed, and Jophiel is still diligently at his side.

 

Normally, Saps would probably still have his mask on, but each member of this hospital is under binding contract to never reveal the identity or details of any of the patients it treats, no matter what is offered. The contracts only ever end with death. 

 

They sit there in a silence that’s both comforting, and also the most nerve-wracking thing ever. The doctors say he’ll wake up. Jophiel says she’s confident he will, that the probability of him waking up is higher than the probability of him not. But it does little to ease his worry.

 

He doesn’t know how Flux will react to him. However he does will likely be entirely deserved, because Saps literally cut off his arm, entirely unprovoked. He might drown in the guilt before Flux even wakes up. 

 

But Flux starts to stir, right before Saps is crushed by the suffocating weight of his thoughts. Purple eyes meet his void-like ones, and Saps buries his face in the mattress with loud, possibly? fake sobs, as Jophiel pats his shoulder with a nervous laugh, and Flux stares at him.

 

“Dude.”

 

“Flux, I’m so sorry! I don’t know what happened and–”

 

“Chill. I know it wasn’t your fault. I’m not like….mad, if that’s what you’re so upset about.”

 

Flux examines the shiny prosthetic. It’s pretty great. Definitely adds to the terrifying aura he definitely already exudes.

 

“No but– I still feel so bad!”

 

“Calm down, Saps. Jophiel, is he drunk or something? He’s acting like a fucking crybaby.”

 

“Don’t be so harsh, Flux. You did give him quite the scare. But I’m glad you’re okay.”

 

Saps finally looks up, and Flux buries his face in his hands in annoyance.

 

“You’re buying me dinner for a month.”

 

“Deal.”

 

Just as Saps is about to say something, a nurse comes in and yells at them that visiting hours are over. Saps grabs dramatically onto the bed rail. Jophiel has to drag him out. 

The food here isn’t terrible. Fluixon has definitely had better, but for a hospital, it’s decent. One of the nurses brings him the daily paper, and whatever he was feeling previously is quickly replaced by annoyance. 

 

On the front page, it reads, “Beloved vigilante Architect rumored to have lost arm in a fight, possibly against partner Albatross.”

 

The rest is a lot of very exaggerated propaganda bullshit. He’s about to rip the newspaper up and fold it into an airplane to throw at Saparata when he visits, but stops as he looks at the bottom corner on the last page. 

 

It’s the same message, but different letters are bolded. His blood runs cold as he reads them.

 

“bELieVe me noW?” is what’s spelled out, along with a new address; 1516 Imperial Street.

When Saps arrives, Flux immediately shows him the paper. But instead of some kind of curiousity or concern like before, his expression hardens.

 

“We’re not going. That’s for the heroes to figure out.”

 

“What? Why? You agreed last time.”

 

“That was before all this happened!”

 

“I can take care of myself. It was just an unexpected thing that happened, I’ll recover. I’ll be more careful.”

 

“That’s not the point, Flux. I hurt you, even though it was unwillingly, it shows whoever is behind this is capable of way more than we thought!”

 

“You’re babying me. You’re babying me and it’s pissing me off.”

 

“No, no I’m not. I’m not going, and you sure as hell aren’t either.”

 

“Why? Why not? We have to do this– didn’t you want to make this world a better place?”

 

“I did. Still do. But I’m not taking that risk. Not if there’s a chance you wont be there afterwards. There’d be no point in doing all this, if I were only to return and you’re not there.”

 

That silences Flux. 

 

“Seriously?”

 

Saps stares at him, something else in his eyes.

“Yeah.”

 

Flux sighs, and pretends to fall asleep just to piss Saps off.

 

Logically, that’s the right thing to do. Especially after this. They really should just leave it for the heroes to handle. But neither have ever really been logical people. Two plus two equals seven, grass is purple, and they always defy normal expectations and were never the kind of people to conform.

 

The heroes have always pissed Flux off. He knows they’re going to end up screwing something up, like they always do. They need to be gone, need to be out of the picture before their stupid peacemaker ways infect Saps more than they already have.

 

And so Flux starts plotting, because between the original Theria trio, Flux has always been the clever strategist, with card after card up his sleeve, and more tricks than anyone ever suspects. 

 

“If you’re really going to back off and leave this for the heroes to handle, at least tell them everything we found. I did some…additional, digging on my own, and you should let them know.”

 

That last part is a lie. But Saps doesn’t need to know that.

 

“When did you– nevermind.”

 

“And for the love of Ish, meet in a neutral spot. I know you might trust them, but I sure as hell don’t.”

 

“Why don’t you trust them?”

 

“You wouldn’t understand.”

 

Saps doesn’t push further. But he trusts Flux’s judgement. He’s always been the smarter one, and Flux wouldn’t lead him astray. 

 

So Saps starts planning. Jophiel helps him, because she wants to get to the bottom of everything just as much as he does.

 

And slowly, things start to return to the fragile normalcy they had before. Flux is discharged. The arm functions just like his original one did. Saps gets flung into the water several more times as the seasons change, and autumn turns to winter. 

 

Meeting day arrives. By some miracle, or maybe just influence from Jophiel, ten heroes show up. Saparata doesn’t really know their hero names, because they all refer to eachother by whatever their given names are. The papers refer to them as such as well, and Saps wonders if they even have alias.

 

They chose to meet in one of the buildings on the property Saps’ family owns. He doesn’t know much about them, because most of them vanished or died when he was younger, but he was left with a large plot of land he forgets he owns. It would’ve made a nice original meeting spot for Theria, but it’s so far out in the countryside that he’d abandoned the idea early on. 

 

The ten that show up are influential, well known throughout State. AlkalineAlke, Jagster, Mattsoot, Phoenix, Korulein, Trocky, 3BelowZero, Zekor, Jamminhead, and DynamicWarfare. Fluixon isn’t by his side for this; he’d gone with Jophiel, who needed assistance on a matter with another hero, LegacyAN. 

 

Some trust Saps more than others, because he actually knows a few of them from when they’d collaborate through Jophiel. Saps presents what Flux has given him.

 

In all honesty, this is the first time Saps is actually looking through it all. But it’s concise, and he wonders just how Flux found all this.

 

The room tenses as there’s a mention of Aculon in the middle of all the evidence, which previously had no correlation. 

 

Aculon is a sore subject for most of them. It was once an empire that controlled the underground, ruled by the iron fist of a villain known as the Imperator. It claimed many lives, and its influence seeped into the rest of State for years. It’s a name that strikes fear in the hearts of many, and Aculon only vanished recently, after the Imperator supposedly fell to his death a few years ago.

 

Saps isn’t really sure how they could be involved, but if all this is true, then it makes this matter all the more serious. 

 

Someone finally speaks. Alkaline. Saps’ mind supplies him with some minor, trivial knowledge about him, including the fact Flux hates him. Great.

 

“If everything you’ve shown us is true, then this could be a grave danger for all of State. While I do not agree with the fact you’d gone and investigated the original Nevermore house incident on your own, I am grateful you agreed to meet with us on the matter.”

 

A couple more heroes add onto it, and someone mentions the possibility that the gas found in the Nevermore house could be used to take the heroes out without someone getting their hands dirty. 

 

It’s an awful thing. The idea of heroes killing eachother, just like how Saps almost killed Flux, is something he doesn’t want to think about. 

 

“Like an assassination?” Someone says, and there’s a collective gasp.

 

“Exactly like an assassination, I think.”

 

Just as Saps says that, there’s a loud click. He freezes, because it’s the same click he heard from the pressure plate back in the Nevermore house.

But instead of gas, six huge, metal cubes fall from the ceiling and land with a sickening crash.

Six heroes are dead where they sat. 

Saps is frozen. His mouth is half open, and the words he was about to say die in his throat. Alkaline, Jagster, Mattsoot, Phoenix, Korulein, and Trocky are dead. Squashed on the spot. 3BelowZero, Zekor, Jamminhead, and DynamicWarfare stare at him, and begin to draw their weapons. 

 

Because in their minds, this is exactly what it looks like. Albatross, famed vigilante and rumored to have cut his partner’s arm off, has successfully pulled off the assassination of six powerful heroes.

 

Saparata wants to scream that he’s innocent. Nothing comes out. He holds his hands up in surrender, but they continue towards him. He can’t hear anything except the rush of blood in his ears and the beating of his own heart.

 

Saps didn’t do this. He would never.

 

But they wouldn’t believe that. This is exactly how it seems, and exactly what they want to believe. It makes perfect sense. 

 

Albatross is a villain, once a vigilante, and let his state of being unrestricted by the law consume him. 

 

These people do not know him. They don’t know him in the way Fluixon and Jophiel do. They will not let him plead his innocence, and he will pay for crimes he didn’t commit with his own blood. 

 

And in a moment of panic, Saparata runs. 

As a boy, Saparata learned to run in the sandy warmth of State beaches. On solid ground, he’s faster than light.

 

So Saps runs. Even though it only convicts him further.

 

Because, deep down, Saps is someone who will always run. It’s a destructive thing to do. Most don’t ever really understand it. Only those who love broken things understand the self-destruction that courses through his veins as he runs. 

 

The four follow him, but Saps runs until he cannot hear them, and he must be miles and miles away from the scene. 

 

Fear clings to him like a spine. His breathing is ragged and shallow, and in this moment, Saps realizes he is alone. Time stops just for him.

 

His back is to the shoreline of the water that surrounds the northern part of State. 

 

Emotions threaten to push him in, and Saparata dreams of drowning. 

The world caves in, and he falls. 

 

Notes:

wow guys....
so this chapter originally was a bit shorter
we have our first major plot point! yes yes it's very early for the framing, but also note this is six years before present times!
chapter updates will usually come out friday through sunday, and rarely mondays.

 

also: i want to thank caemichi from the fluxarata dc server for this AWESOME sketch of vigilante saps!!! i love it so much and i'm so happy and thankful!

 

as always, thank you so much for reading! i looove reading and responding to all your comments!!
feel free to tag or message me on twitter, if you've got any questions! (or discord if you know me on there!!)

 

fun facts:
- the first like 2k words of this chapter came to me in a fever dream after drinking a whole bottle of peach arizona tea
- this chapter actually was NOT meant to be this angsty, i literally planned on just having the six get killed and bolting, but literally halfway through writing it (i wrote about 2k words, stopped, went to school for a few days, yk) i broke up with my bf soooo....now i'm going to make it iiod!saps's problem. (it's okay guys he was shitty anyways and like it's for the better)
- this chapter took SO long to write just because i kept getting distracted. but hey...i finished...
- next chapter will probably be mainly from flux's pov. if you couldn't tell, the pov switches a lot, but some chapters may be more saps/more flux orientated

Chapter 3: In The Name of Being Honest

Summary:

lying is what we do best.
was there ever a chance we were put to the test?

Notes:

WOOHOO CHAPTER THREE!!!

this one's like...a day late...cause i lowkey got busy.

also-- iiod now has a discord server!!! the link will be in the end notes!

it's a bit of a shorter chapter, but we're finally ending what i consider to be the first? pre-present arc!

next chapter, we'll be out of the six years!

five more years to go.

---

Six years before present.

Rain falls outside.

 

It’s heavy like the weight of worlds. Fluixon holds a newspaper.

 

He holds it with shaking hands. Saparata, no, Albatross, is responsible for the murder of six heroes. Saps ran from the scene. They don’t know where he is. 

 

It worked.

 

Contrary to popular belief, Flux has friends outside of Jophiel and Saps. They’d met years ago.

 

Thomas, Snowbird, Hvyrotation, Gotoga, and NewKids. They called themselves many names, but settled on the Conspiracy. They’ve known each other for ages, waiting, plotting in the shadows. The Nevermore house set that all into motion, and Flux decided the Conspiracy could wait no longer.

 

Flux never liked heroes. That was always a given. They’re too positive, see too much good in a world where there isn’t enough to go around. Saps is just like them. He would’ve thrived, as the picture-perfect hero. 

 

If things had been different, perhaps he would’ve. In another life, another timeline. But that goes against the plan. And Fluixon will stick to his plan. 

Flux likes to think the Conspiracy isn’t necessarily evil. Yes, they don’t like heroes. They collectively agree they’re all pacifist stuck-ups who are blind until it’s too late. But everything the Conspiracy has planned, all that’s yet to come– that’s for the greater good. It was never in question.

 

Sacrifices have to be made, but no good deed comes without sacrifice. And in this case, that sacrifice was Saparata. 

 

One life for everyone else’s. It’s a small price to pay in the end.

Betraying one person to save a thousand. When it’s put like that, perhaps any rational person would do so in a heartbeat.

For what it’s worth, Flux is apologetic. It was Saps. Practically his other half. Two sides of the same coin. 

 

But Saps was drifting. There was always an air of uncertainty with him, and Saps is a pawn to be manipulated. One that could always be promoted, but a pawn nonetheless, and therefore, he is expendable. 

 

Their plan was perfect. Saps was the perfect cover up. 

 

They rigged the ceiling with metal cubes that they’d found in another building. It’s a shame only half of them worked, but it’s not a major loss. And Saps, in a state of shock, ran. It makes the story all the more convincing. 

 

Saps was the only one with supposed access to the plot. They don’t know of the Conspiracy yet, don’t know that Thomas can teleport through shadows. They left no fingerprints, no signs that it could’ve been them. No one will suspect them.

 

As far as the world knows, these six do not know each other at all. The only one they’d have even any reason to suspect is Fluixon, but he has given himself an alibi.

 

He was with Jophiel and LegacyAN. No one will question him after that. 

 

The only one who could ever suspect him is Saparata, but Saps is too good for that. Trusts Flux too much. 

 

The rest of the world firmly believes that Albatross is the one behind it all. 

 

Saps can never be seen again, not as Albatross. Perhaps he can get away as just Saparata, but Flux doesn’t know if Jophiel will turn him in. Flux himself won’t, not yet, but if it comes to it, he will. 

 

Albatross and the Architect will just be two strangers who know everything and nothing about the other. 

 

Content, Flux sets the newspaper down. The world moves on.

The hero tower is nothing to laugh about. It’s fifty floors, and takes up a whole city block. The architecture is brilliant, tall pillars and marble structures. 

 

Schpood holds the gold card in his hand. There’s not much on it, only some numbers that don’t make sense, but it has a sun insignia on it and somehow seems to radiate power and status. 

 

He shows the card to the person at the front desk. A woman with reddish pink hair and golden horns gives the card a glance, before handing it back and directing him to the elevator.

 

“Floor forty nine. Turn right and knock twice on the door at the end of the hall.”

She doesn’t look up from her computer. He takes it back and walks over to the elevators, which are gold and very fancy looking. 

 

The card was given to Schpood by some guy, after he’d finally ended up in the hands of authorities.

 

It was a strange encounter. Schpood technically wasn’t doing anything illegal, but vigilantism isn’t technically legal either. He’d gotten into a fight with some villain, they’d thrown hands, caused property damage, and both ended up arrested. He’s not sure what happened with the villain, but he frankly doesn’t care. 

 

After a few hours, someone knocked on the door, handed him the card, and told him he was free to go and all charges were dropped and were only marked on his record as long as he went to the hero tower and showed them the card that Friday. 

 

Sketchy, yes, but hey, as long as his charges were dropped. Schpood would rather not have to pay any money, and for the amount of damage he caused, it would’ve been a lot. 

 

The elevator dings, and Schpood steps out. This floor looks somewhat like the lobby, same color scheme and air of elegance to it. He turns right, just as instructed, and at the end of the hall, there’s a door with more golden suns on it. He knocks twice, and a voice calls for him to come inside.

In the center of the room, there’s a long, curved desk. At the desk sits a man with blonde hair, black horns similar to those of the woman at the desk, and a golden crown of leaves. A marble nameplate reads “Solev”. Behind him, there’s a plaque with a sun and a moon, with two names underneath; “Solev, Hand of Truth”, and “Alltiera, Eye of Truth”. Schpood doesn’t really know what the titles mean, but he doesn’t care all that much either.

 

There’s two chairs in front of the desk, and the one on the right seats another blonde guy, though he wears purple and looks vaguely familiar. 

 

The guy at the desk, who he presumes is Solev, finally speaks. 

 

“It’s great to have you both, Schpood and 5pyder. Or should I say Eminence and Noceur, vigilante and villain, respectively?”

 

Oh.

 

Wait a minute.

 

This guy is Noceur, the villain he was literally fighting and got arrested with?

 

“Take a seat, Eminence.”

 

Schpood does as he’s told. There’s something scary about this guy, something off.

 

“Now, I’m sure you’re both aware of the little..scuffle, you two were involved with on Wednesday. Normally, we just…charge you guys for your crimes, and check your records, but Imperia is always in search of talent.”

 

5pyder finally speaks.

 

“The fuck is Imperia?”

 

“Sorry, sorry. Forgot that name change wasn’t approved. The heroes. You two have skill. Yeah, yeah, you guys like…committed crimes. But there’s potential. And we would like to harness that.

 

Interesting. Schpood had always considered joining the heroes, as a child, but never thought he had the potential. Too many rules too, and he actually would have to stay within the law.

 

“I know what you two are thinking, you’re probably thinking, “What is this guy on about? We’re not already heroes for a reason”. I don’t really care to know what that reason is. But you two did cause a lot of damage, and normally, we don’t let people off scott-free.”

 

This seems a little bit corrupt.

 

“Are you blackmailing us?”

 

Solev laughs, but it’s unsettling. Everything about the guy is unsettling.

 

“Blackmail? Oh, of course not! Just offering…a mutually beneficial solution. You two join Imp- sorry, the heroes, and all of this and anything from the past is permanently wiped! Plus, you get the cool, awesome, expensive hero paycheck, which is, oh I don’t know, leaning on six figures, give or take. Or, you could walk away now, and you’ll leave as you came. Any past charges will still be marked on your record, including this recent one, but we won’t arrest or bill you for them, you know? It’s kind of a win-win– you guys get paid and records cleaned, and I get new heroes who have cool powers.”

 

5pyder’s expression is unreadable, and Schpood desperately wants to know what he’s thinking. Their circumstances are slightly different– the former is a villain, while Schpood is just a vigilante. Vigilantes aren’t technically legal, but they’re neither against nor for the law. Most villains are strictly against it.

 

“Please say yes. I would like to win my bet against Alt.”

 

Is this guy serious?

 

Schpood is starting to think this is some scary, crazy, elaborate scheme, and he’s actually going to get jumped on the spot. 

But he wants to live. Schpood does not want to get into a fight with this guy. Not today. Maybe another day. But definitely not today. 

 

“Um. Sure.”

 

“Great! You start on Monday, so come in bright and early! We’ll send any info to your email.”

 

“Do you guys…need my email?”

 

“Nope. We have it already!”

 

Schpood has no clue where they got his email from or how. He doesn’t think he wants to know.

 

Solev looks at 5pyder expectantly.

 

“Fine. But you better hold up your end of the bargain.”

 

“Of course! And just like Eminence, you’ll start on Monday, and we’ll email you any info.”

 

“Are we free to go?”

 

“Yep. Happy Friday!”

 

He mumbles something about his bet, and the two walk out.

The elevator ride down is awkward. Maybe they should clear the air, since they’ll be coworkers.

 

Schpood clears his throat.

 

“Um. Sorry for, uh, you know, hitting you over the head with a mannequin.”

 

5pyder looks at him for what feels like too long.

 

“Oh. Sorry for throwing you into a window, I guess.”

 

Well. Progress enough. The elevator dings, and the step out. The woman at the desk is notably absent, replaced by what might be a robot. Weird.

They go their separate ways. It takes a few hours, before it sinks in and Schpood realizes just how weird that was. 

Solev looks over papers. All things considered, everything is going as it should. 

He hopes it isn’t true. But knowing the things he does, it likely is. The powers that make up the aspects of State are coming to play, and Solev knows which players he needs to win.

 

The tragedy that was those six and Albatross set him back. He’d planned on recruiting the latter, who showed promise and had history with Jophiel, but that’s kind of hard, considering the bounty and his apparent crimes.

 

The truth will win. Imperia will come out on top. It always has. It always will. 

 

Alltiera walks in, a look of amusement on her face. Just as he is the sun, the Hand who commands in the front, she is the moon, the Eye that sees all and will set things in motion from the shadows.

 

They have time. The best strategies aren’t the ones that are rushed. They take time and patience and skill, all of which they have. 

 

Soon, State will kneel at their feet, in the name of justice and truth. They will strike down those who negatively oppose, when the time is right.

 

For now, they will play the long game. Because in they stand in the light, while the rest will remain dark or morally grey.

 

All the world needs to do is trust in Imperia. 

Saparata walks with his head down, hood over his head. While no one, save for Jophiel and Fluixon, knows he’s Albatross, his long white hair still turns heads. And someone may piece it together, because there aren’t many people with long, white hair. He’d rather not risk it.

 

Nox Street is a bustling hub at all hours, but it’s most crowded at night. Disguised as several street markets, it’s really a front for the shadier happenings of State. It’s a good place to hide though, and is one of few places where heroes have no authority. 

 

It used to be run by the strict regulations of Aculon, but after its fall, much more goes on. Perhaps a bit more dangerous, yes, but Nox Street thrives. 

 

There’s whispers though, heard in between dealings and in passing by. Rumors that the Imperator lives, and that Aculon will rise again. But as far as Saps is aware, they’re baseless rumors, and nothing to fear.

 

Saps has bigger things to worry about, anyways, like the bounty on his head. He doesn’t know who to trust– doesn’t know if Jophiel, or even Flux, will rat him out. The world doesn’t know the identity of Albatross. Only three do, and of those three, one will never speak again.

 

But Saps didn’t do it.

 

Albatross did not kill six heroes.

 

Saparata is not a murderer. The words, the thought, the truth. It keeps him going and ties him to hope. Hopes that one day, he can say the truth with conviction, and his name will be cleared. But it’s a futile dream.

 

The world will not believe him, in any case.

It’s cold. Autumn is slowly shifting into winter. The trees are bare, and lack the warm orange hues. 

 

Rain falls in light droplets, like the tears the sky tries not to shed.

 

Time goes on. It never slowed, and never will. Not for Saps, at least.

 

Perhaps truth will prevail. But not today. Not any time soon. 

 

Saps pulls his hood down lower and his jacket closer. 

 

The world remains indifferent. 

Notes:

heh.

schpood, 5pyder, solev, alltiera, and the conspiracy finally debut!

next chapter will slightly shift the focus less saps + flux, and more onto what else is happening!

 

also: discord server here! i'll announce future updates right before they're posted, and you can get snippets and fun facts there! ask me questions as well, and maybe i'll answer!

also yes the chapter title is a reference to atw by ts hahaahahha

thank you so much for reading iiod, and see you next week! (or perhaps later this week..)

Notes:

oh wow guys

note: powers are just a thing, you either have them or you don't. for like..idk plot everyone mentioned will have powers and stuff

the early chapters will be sort of world lore recap chapters, just an fyi!!

as always lmk if there might be grammar errors!
pls comment and leave kudos! they always make my day <3

thanks for staying until the end!
you can find me on twitter @aft3rglooow, and i'll answer questions if you want to tag me or something!!

 

expect an update every sunday..? maybe? hopefully at worst one update per two weeks...

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of running from fate