AEDOLIS > Adstreia

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nephero:
   This was about moving on.

   Ren stared across the subway car, out the opposite window and at the passing tunnel lights flicking in a steady stream on after another. Like a trail of orange lanterns, not unlike the kind he remembered from when he was very small in Yvrei, when enough coaxing and begging and bribery convinced his birthgiver to take him downtown to see the festival lights. It was all silly superstition, of course. Something about new beginnings. ‘Utterly pointless and honestly a waste of time,’ Bibi had said, but Ren had loved it anyway. It felt nice, the thought of new beginnings. The thought of change.

   It still felt nice, and while Erenys Dei had no gods to believe in, he felt it might have been a good sign that he found those orange lanterns here, deep in the underbelly of the Adstreian dome, on his way to something new. Something that wasn’t just moping around Jain’s apartment all day long, too tired to do much more than even the most basic chores. Something that wasn’t constantly trying to keep warm as his joints froze up one by one. Something that wasn’t checking his comm, thinking that maybe he might catch a specific name there and maybe might be able to say the right thing at the right time and maybe it would all work out like some silly little fairytale and he could live happily ever after.

   Ren shifted, took a drag from the lit cigarette balanced between his fingers, held his breath until the edges of his vision started to blur and then released every last fragment of that tapestry of thought out in a plume of acrid blue-white smoke. The effect against the fluorescence of the subway car lights was… weirdly beautiful in a way, the lines of smoke twisting this way and that before fading completely. Not unlike all those little what-ifs: they didn’t last, they weren’t real. What was real was this; the reality that his happily ever after was not and never had been in the cards, and the sooner he learned to follow the lanterns the sooner he might be able to finish out his days with some semblance of happiness.

   New beginnings.

   He shifted to tap out the column of ash into a nearby tray, took another long drag, and then snuffed the whole thing out with a kind of finality. The cigarette itself had come from one of a multitude of packs, torn open somewhere between arriving in Adstreia, stopping at a hotel room to freshen up, and then immediately beelining for the local rail system to take him across the dome and to the hospital where a complete stranger awaited a grab-bag of nicotine-infused delights. Not that Chakram would miss one pack. Ren had said he’d bring him a gift bag full of the stuff, and Ren had meant every word of it. All down to the bow-ties, carefully crafted out of thick, vibrant construction paper and glued to the thin cellophane wrapping. Each pack was then set into the bag, one equally decorated to the point it was barely recognizeable as a gift bag at all— except maybe for the two handles that stuck up overtop a ridiculous amount of glitter and tule.

   Ren had admittedly been extremely baked when he had made the thing. But the following morning had found the entire gesture to be suitably ironically overplayed, and so he had kept the gift bag as it was and stuffed it full of as many cigarette packs and cigar packs and lighters and matchboxes and even a few joints as he could fit. And all because he had promised Chakram the fanciest gift basket of smoking supplies he’d ever laid his eyes on.

   Erenys Dei was many things. But first and foremost, he was a man of his word. And when he said he’d put little bowties on those packs, he meant it. Because why not? He deserved to have a little fun. He deserved to have things go back to normal, the way he was before he lost complete control of his life, the way the world was before the gods he didn’t believe in had collectively decided to pull his strings especially hard. And that’s what this trip all boiled down to. Getting back to where he was. Starting over. New beginnings. Moving on.

   So why did he still feel so out of whack?

   Well, that was a mystery that didn’t really need any solving. It’d already been solved ages ago, back when he still lived in Ryun and still had his life in order and hadn’t yet gone to pieces. It was ridiculous, and stupid, and also ridiculous. There was nothing to feel guilty over, because there was absolutely nothing in the first place. You couldn’t cheat on someone you’d never been with in the first place. Ren pulled another cigarette out of his ‘stolen’ pack, and lit it up, watching the smoke trail this way and that in the flow of the circulated car air.

   It was, thankfully, largely empty. The smoker cars weren’t always such, especially towards the early and late ends of the day. But he’d arrived in Adstreia just after the typical lunch hour, and on a weekday as it was, there wasn’t really many bodies around in general, let alone all vying for a spot where they could smoke freely. The only other passenger in that particular car had been a young man in his late teens (or so Ren assumed, humans aged so damn weird), and after the initial fumbling request for an autograph, the kid had been content to run back to his corner of the car and fixate entirely on whoever he was texting on his phone.

   Which was a shame. Starstruck or not, Ren might have done well with a little distraction, a little passing company. Anything to keep his brain on track and not slipping into the muck of self-loathing that threatened to drag him under at every turn. Because no matter how much he wanted to do this, to be here, there was still that nagging feeling that he was committing some kind of unforgivable crime. That he was sullying something good and pure, and that it would never be the same once he finally stopped dragging it through the dirt.

   Utterly ridiculous for a multitude of reasons. For one thing, this was all based on the wild assumption that Ren’s visit with Chakram would even amount to anything besides having a good, solid laugh over evening-wear cigarettes. For another, even if the flirtatious overtones did amount to something more, it wasn’t exactly the first time Ren had gone out and gotten railed by a stranger in some misguided attempt at feeling better. It’d be the first time he did it sober, sure, but it wasn’t like that ‘good and pure thing’ was all that good and pure to start with. And for a third thing, the most important point to be made here, there was simply in no way in any universe that Cabal would ever care. So why stress? Why sit and wallow in shame that had no business being there at all? This was Aedolis, not the damn dark ages, and Cabe hadn’t been interested even when Ren was still a virgin, so who gave a shit?

   This was about moving on. And honestly, Ren was so tired of being stuck in the tarpit of what he’d become, he didn’t care in what direction he moved so long as it was moving. Well. Sort of. In between stops, anyway. The kid got off the subway, and in two more stops, so did Ren, following the stairs up and onto the main walkway that led down a line of bustling shops and restaurants and office buildings. It was still a fair distance to the hospital (ironically enough the same hospital Ren had visited so many times before, a fact that he very much tried to keep out of mind), and he wasn’t exactly in any rush. Chakram wouldn’t be released for at least another hour, or so the estimate had gone, and that gave Ren plenty of time to finish his cigarette and get himself back under control. Thankfully, the chill northern winter did plenty to clear his head of any lingering cobwebs, cold air nipping at the points of his ears and no doubt turning them a deep, dark flush in the process.

   Which was a good thing. He’d done his best in the hotel room to look a little bit better than death warmed over, mussing his cropped hair until it said “disheveled chic” rather than “I literally rolled out of bed and that was the extent of my ability for today” as had been the norm for the past hundred billion weeks. He’d even gotten new clothes for the occasion, the boat-neck shirt barely holding onto his shoulders and prominently displaying the tattoos on either collarbone. A little bit of flair against an otherwise monochromatic wardrobe, but only just. Enough to be prepared for whatever direction this little celebratory visit decided to go.

   Right. That reminded him. It was only a few feet outside of the hospital entrance that he remembered he didn’t exactly know where Chakram was currently being kept, or even what Chakram’s real name was. Ren couldn’t even really give a description, either, and while there was a lot to be said about the logging of information, Ren sincerely doubted the local hospitals kept records of what online monikers their patients utilized in between treatments. Ren pulled out his comm, and quickly logged into the chat application, tapping Chakram’s username to bring up the string of DMs they’d left previously hanging in between gaming sessions.

   ‘Hey,’ Ren typed, even as he made it through the doors and towards the main desk where visitors could check in, ‘I’m here. Got a room number or should I just start knocking down doors to see who has the fanciest gown on?’

Lion:
Cabal Vindstrom didn't believe in coincidences. Definitely not when there were too many things that had gone wrong in his life for that to even be a possibility. Strange things happened when you least expected them. Nan had taught him that, and if there was anyone who's advice he'd trusted absolutely, it was hers. He owed her that much; for all she'd done for him. There was less the inclination to repay a debt owed, than it was to pay her respects for being the parent he'd never had.  And the years were getting back at her for all the rage she possessed against the dying light.

Cabal quietly swore in the back of his mind that he'd pay her a visit when he finally got out of this hospital. It was stupid. All of this, being kept in this room like a fucking cage and he couldn't help the swelling restlessness that rose up in his chest when he thought of how long he'd spent boxed up in these four pale walls with recessed lighting and the faint sound of his heart monitor to put him to sleep at night.

He could have gone home two weeks ago, even told Nurse Mitchum that, but nooope. They had to make sure that he was under enough scrutiny to maintain his misery and yet keep it just short of murderous. Cabal hated that man, and felt nothing short of disdain for him. No matter how many bedpans he had to clean. Why should he feel any sympathy? The man chose his career - he wasn't a Pilot. All he had to do was put up with fools like him and go home, warm up some ramen, and have his coffee and shut the fuck up. Today, he was going home though. That was for damn sure.

Cabal flexed his toes and his sore muscles that had atrophied some in those long weeks in that cast, in that bed, being suspended as it was. He always healed faster than regular people. Even for a psychic. Even for a Vindstrom. It probably wouldn't be long before he melted into ooze, but even that didn't happen to Grampa well into his 90's so Cabe figured there'd still be plenty of time to have his kicks until then. Nan didn't like to talk about it, understandably so.

Last day, last call, last second strawberry pudding that he scooped from the cup and downed. Getting out of bed, he flexed the muscles of his left thigh, the familiar movement coming back to him as he shoved his computer back into the backpack he'd had delivered from his apartment and hearing the soft meows Rory made as he sat expectantly at the edge of the bed. The white mustache just beneath his little nose twitched, watching Cabal with no shortage of judgment.

"You're just waiting for me to get up and just eat the floor aren't you?" Cabe asked pointedly, meeting Rory's gaze.

The cat meowed and kneaded the mattress, laying down on his paws, curling them underneath his chest.

"You're an asshole. This is the thanks I get for opening up my home to you," he snorted and hesitantly glanced down at the floor. Then he managed to push himself off the bed, one foot then the other and hissed at the cold floor beneath his feet. Ideally he should have those grippy socks on, but he hated the way they felt after wearing them all night. Putting weight on the leg was trying, and a jolt erupted right through it, the muscle regaining tension and Cabal felt that pain spike right up through his neck and his face turned red for want of screaming.

He made no sound, and breathed outwardly from flared nostrils. He forced himself to take a step forward, and the initial jolt faded away. Another step, keeping himself steady on the furniture and he finally made it across the room, plopping down on the chair in the corner. His green eyes fell onto Rory who continued to knead the bed, completely ignoring the miraculous feat his leg had become.

"You shithead," he chuckled, grinning a little. Rory might not have cared that Cabal managed to walk. But the fact that he'd bothered to show up at all, and stuck around despite numerous threads to his stupid kitty life, showed that he cared enough. Cabal didn't ask for pity, didn't want it. Shit, he wasn't going to tell anyone. All he wanted was someone to look after his cat for a bit until he got better. Then Ren showed up, with Rory in tow. The cat had led him here apparently, and since then had become a staple of that room.

So had Ren too, in a way. Visited often, didn't even leave until he had to go.  Cabal only felt bad then, that his own dumbassery had pulled Ren from his vacation and had him waiting around for him. Cabe enjoyed his company, but would have preferred it to be on better terms. Y'know when they could get sushi and go for a swim.  When they could actually hang out, smoke it up, get drunk and flop down on chalk covered flooring and tell spooky stories.  Not in a lame hospital room, fuck that noise.

His com on the bed began to go off and he perked up a little. Speak of the devil and he shall appear, right?  He pushed himself up from the chair and found more strength in his leg, limping only slightly and when he crossed the room in double-time, he plopped down, snatching the com up into his hand and igniting the DMs he had.  And his heart leapt into his throat.

"Hey, I’m here. Got a room number or should I just start knocking down doors to see who has the fanciest gown on?"

No...not Ren, but the odd jolt remained all the same as he grinned and typed out a response. "Yeah, Room 832. I'll be in a blue-green gown, with the most startling green eyes you've ever seen," he wrote, hitting send and laughed, snatching Rory up by the underside and pressing him to his chest for a few pets and giving him a kiss on the back of his head. The cat hissed a little, indignant at the interruption of his self-cleaning. "Okay little buddy, you gotta go. Make yourself scarce. And don't let anyone catch you in the cafeteria again. I'm not gonna claim you if you get caught in the tuna salad, you little fucker."

Rorschach bumbled off, skedaddling out the door and Cabe sat back down on the bed, leaving the door parted just enough, fixing he gown and really wishing he had his pants back. Yeah, he'd need clothes asap.  Mayb some actual boxers too, that'd be nice.

He finished scraping the empty pudding cup, chucking it into the garbage and glancing up at the door, his heart racing in his throat. Deium was a real charmer, sweet as can be, snarky bastard, and even offered to bring him smokes. Goddamn, Cabal hadn't had a cigarette in more than a month and he was pretty sure if Mitchum came in here right now, he'd strangle him with one of the heart monitor power cables.

But whowever Deium really was, they were a pal for life for the offer to bring him smokes at all. Cabal didn't really feel bothered about meeting strangers online. He was in a protected hospital, in the Pilots wing, and he'd vouch for them to get clearance for the visit if he had to. It was the least he could do after their generosity. He was pretty sure they were going to be cute, they already got along well enough with him - even put up with his bullshit which earn them points in the 'good noodle' department. The vague flirtations, making this a date. Maybe they were just humoring him.

Cabe looked up at the door again when he saw a shadow in the crook of it, the door started to move, and he felt his heart leapt into his throat again, pounding in his ears.  ...Well, speak of the devil.

And surely as he did, did he appear.

"Hey Deium," he grinned up at the door, recognizing that familiar dark freckled face, eyes half-lidded. "Fancy meeting you here. Cabal. Cabal Vindstrom. In the fanciest goddamn gown this side of the Pilot's ward."

And waggled his eyebrows.

nephero:
   Room 832, with the most startling green eyes Ren had ever seen. He gave a little scoff— that was a mighty claim to make, even for Chakram. It was charming, in its own way, the little ego that shone through their mutual snark. Hell, it was more than charming. It was the level beyond charming that involved over half a day’s journey by rail on Ren’s part. Which said a lot.

   Ren held out his wrist at the desk, and let the receptionist there fumble for a moment in scanning his chip. A quick smile, and he headed for the elevators, thumbing the correct floor and waiting for the doors to slide shut again. Not for the first time, Ren wished that maybe the car wasn’t so empty. It’d have been nice to be distracted on the way up— something about hitting that particular button, heading for that particular room— something about that just had his hearts picking up a tic, and Ren couldn’t tell if it was nerves or excitement, or…

   Or, or, or.

   Ren took another steadying breath. If it was nerves (and he knew what that felt like, he based an entire career around what that felt like), he’d have slammed the buttons to stop at the very next floor and gone straight the hell home. Whatever it was that had his pulse going berserk like this, he’d just deal with it later. Maybe over a bottle of wine from the hotel minibar. Or maybe he’d just drink the wine and forget the whole “deal with it later” part.

   Still, the feeling didn’t go away, even after the elevator arrived on the eighth floor. If anything else, it just became stronger; the further Ren got down the hallway the more his insides felt like so many squirming fish, all flopping around and gasping for breath. And yet, it wasn’t unpleasant— the further Ren got, the more it felt like…

   Excitement.

   Something flitted out of the corner of his eye, and Ren paused just for half of a moment, turning at the mouth of another connecting hallway just in time to see tiny little paws disappear around the next corner. That couldn’t have been Rory, could it? Cabe wasn’t still here? Not that Ren knew what Cabe was even up to these days; it’d been forever since they’d last spoken and since then Ren had been so intent on trying to bury how awful he’d felt that he’d never thought to check in and ask how the man was doing.

   Some resonance Ren was. Pfft, maybe it was for the better, if that’s how he was going to behave. Ren sighed, and turned away from where he thought he’d seen Rory disappear off to. But still the feeling didn’t ebb— Ren half expected to feel even more guilty at the prospect of Cabe still being here, still hurt and still recovering while Ren met up with some online acquaintance. And yet, thankfully, the guilt never came. The feeling was still there but it wasn’t guilt, the fishy squirming increasing as he walked by nurses’ stations and past equally exhausted visitors.

   It was only when Ren got to room 832 that he realized what that feeling was. It had taken him quite a while to recognize it the first time he’d noticed it— the way the air around him changed, like how it felt when you pressed your hands to a set of speakers to feel the sound deep in your bones, down beneath your bones, to some unknowable part that defied all logic or medical reasoning. At the time, he’d thought it’d been the booze— too much too quick and not enough to eat— but a long night of being sick on the squad yacht had proven booze had nothing to do with it.

   Since then, the feeling had returned again and again, but he’d known that would happen. What he hadn’t expected was to feel it here on his way to meet a stranger. And yet, there it was. The unmistakable sound of one unmistakable person, the unmistakable feeling deep in Ren’s bones.

   If Ren believed in capricious gods, he’d be sitting back and having a laugh with them at the irony of it all. Of course this was how it ended up. Trying to move on, trying to get a handle on his life, trying to stop stumbling around like a drunk caught in an earthquake.

   Oh well. If he was going to stumble, might as well stumble forward in style. Ren rapped his knuckles against the doorframe before stepping inside. He’d known what to expect, of course, but it didn’t stop his hearts from skipping a beat anyway— a rapidfire staccato in the face of the most startling green eyes Ren had ever seen.

   It was only after a few more shuttering heartbeats that Ren remembered that normal people tended to respond to conversation, and slashed a sharp-toothed grin Cabal’s direction.

   “Erenys Dei. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr Vindstrom. Love the outfit.” He gave a little bow and flourish, waggling his brows right back before stepping over to the bed and setting down his ridiculously decorated giftbag.

   “One gift bag of smokes, as promised. They’re even dressed for the occasion. Though I couldn’t make ties tiny enough for the joints, so those just kinda have a ballgown thing going on.”

Lion:
   There he was in front of him, Erenys Dei, in all his glory looking a few shades darker if he might add and the sheer irony of it only made the shit-eating grin on Cabal’s face spread all that much wider as he casually tilted his head up at that slinky dollface. The haircut was a nice touch, as was the neck tattoo that glowed so much brighter than the recessed lighting, and only served to enhance the glow in that Star elf’s eyes.  Erenys Dei was Deium all along.

Well wasn’t Cabal a fucking moron. Yup. Because that couldn’t have been more obvious if he’d been paying attention. And he was Chakram and now here they were with smokes presented in a decorated basket that Ren had gone through great lengths to make presentable. Cabal played idly with the little tag on his wrist that he couldn’t wait to tear off and moved up from the bed and looked up at his friend.

His friend. Ren…was his honest to gods friend, and a good boy, and a hell of a blast to be around, and had seen him at his worst. And Cabe was a shit that had been too busy wallowing to notice anything else. He felt his stomach turn and recoil at the thought, of what he’d taken for granted, and what more he’d take for granted. He couldn’t feel Jesse, he couldn’t talk to Nemo anymore like he used to. Sure they were still friends. He guessed. He hoped.

He swallowed that doubt, tucking it away with the turning of his gut, with the regret he had. And instead forced a small smile at Ren, a small grin that turned genuine just as the basket was presented to him. Cabal shift on the bed so that he was facing Ren, one leg folded over an tucked against him and he made a show of his one dropped leg, exposing the vague light blue hairs that grew along his thigh and shin.

“I’m glad you like it. Y’know it’s so hard getting fashionable garments here in Adstreia. It’s a right pain in the ass it is,” he nodded, shifting over so that part of his ass cheek was exposed he promptly slapped it, snorting as he did so, and examining the giftbag that just took his breath away. Hopefully in more ways than one.

Cabal leaned back on arm across the bed and looked at Ren with a somewhat hooded gaze, already his stomach flipping again. Maybe not quite with self-loathing and instead just appreciating the moment once more.  He took a joint gingerly in hand and rolled it carefully between index finger and thumb. “Well I’m glad to meet you Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome.”  He wiggled his eyebrows and pointed to the door.

“We could light up in here, but chances are Nurse Bitchin’ could walk in any minute and nag us for all we’re worth. Probably try and confiscate the smokes. But as much as I love makin’ his life a living hell, I’d love to actually enjoy these with some peace.  Come on, let’s go find some place to light a few of these, Deium. Since you came all this way and all, I’d hate for you to not have a chance to enjoy some.”  He chuckled softly and took the bag in one arm and pushed himself off the bed, testing the weight again on his leg.

A small jolt and he feared it would fail him. When it didn’t, Cabal let out a low slow breath and reached out a hand to Ren. “I’m glad you could make it out here again. It’s nice to see you. Honest.  Walk with me?” he offered keeping his hand out for it be grabbed before heading out the parted door.

nephero:
   Being around Cabal felt… right.
   
   All awkwardness, all surprise, all shaking-fists-at-the-sky aside, Ren couldn’t deny that being here in this room felt right. More right than anything could feel. It was almost depressing, really, feeling so blissfully at peace like this and knowing nothing else would ever come close. Woof, what a thought— one that coiled in his ribcage and bit at his hearts, especially with how there was that soft, subtle hesitation in Cabe’s smile upon his arrival.

   Had Cabal been expecting someone else?

   Well, of course Cabal had been expecting someone else. You didn’t really make plans to meet up with a stranger and expect to see one of your friends. There was nothing wrong with that. That was kind of the point, wasn’t it? Seeing someone you hadn’t seen before? That was how Ren had felt about it when he’d made plans with “Chakram” in the first place, after all, so it’d only make sense if it was the same the other way around. Of course Cabal had been expecting someone else. Of course.

   And therein was the last, terrifying nugget of thought: was he disappointed?

   That alone was enough to set the thing in his chest squirming, and might have spiraled into a genuine meltdown if it weren’t for the fact Cabe had selected that exact moment to smack his own ass. And like that, the moment of panic passed, and Ren could only laugh as he sat down on the hospital bed beside the other man.

   “Well, it certainly suits you. Not exactly optimal weather attire, but who am I to judge?” he watched as Cabe toyed with one of the joints, his mouth twitching into a wide grin despite himself at being described as ‘tall, dark and handsome’. Not that that was a particularly new experience - he was a nearly 300 year old celebrity after all - but just the mere fact of who was saying it had his ears darking to a near pitch. A shame that there were no cold winds to blame the sudden flush on, and so he was altogether glad for the change of subject.

   “Oh, no, is he still sore about all the bread-hat nonsense?” Ren grinned wide, remembering with some small amount of spiteful fondness just how much Nurse… what had been his name? Mitchum? Had given him the stink eye whenever he visited. Honestly, now that he knew this was Cabal’s room, it was surprising that Ren hadn’t seen the lurking shadow of that grumpy sonofabitch on his way up.

   “Well, better get out of here if we don’t want to summon him. Might be a bit too much like the fires of hell for him to resist. Something about being homesick and all.” Ren watched as Cabe stood from the bed, his brows knitting tight in concern at how gingerly the other Pilot was treating his leg. Did it still hurt? He was set for release, certainly, but did Cabe need a crutch or something still? Would running around just mess up what healing had been done?

   The concept of Cabe getting hurt again was horrifying. Even more so if it was Ren’s fault. He’d sooner jump out the hospital window than be responsible for something like that. But the moment passed, and Cabal seemed to be moving just fine, and so all thoughts of leaping out the window dissipated into nothing, leaving only Cabe’s outstretched hand.

   “It’s nice to see you again, too. And on your own two feet, too!” Trying very hard to not make it obvious just how hard his hearts were beating, Ren took hold of Cabe’s hand, a few quick strides catching him up to where he could walk alongside the mostly-human and potentially prevent any catastrophic falls.

   Besides… as tempting as it was to walk behind Cabe and fully appreciate his fashionable hospital attire, Ren really didn’t want to have to explain himself should any unfortunate biological effects crop up. It was already a miracle Ren hadn’t blushed himself unconscious, best not to push his luck any further than he had.

   Still, that crisis averted, Ren was left with the very real problem of just where they could go to sneak a smoke without anyone throwing a fit. Ren craned his neck, looking and considering each opportunity as they walked along the hallway. They passed the one where Ren was now sure he’d seen Rory, and he’d been about to comment on such a thing when he noticed just what had been in that connecting hall—

   Elevators.

   Not just any elevators, either. But what looked to be maintenance ones, and one of them had a lovely hand-made sign designating it as being out of order. Ren grinned, dark fangs bared as he tugged on Cabe’s hand, guiding him into the hall and over where the out of service elevator doors were.

   Tapping his finger to his mouth and then gesturing in sign for Cabe to keep watch, Ren reached down and pulled a switchblade from his boot. Hardly standard issue, of course, but no one questioned the military for arming themselves, and certainly never expected a Pilot Noble to use concealed weaponry to pry open the doors to a broken-down elevator.

   Because that would have been just silly. Who would do something like that just for a smoke? Especially when there was no guarantee the car would even be there. But, of course, the car was there, though several feet upwards, to where Ren had to reach up and pull himself up and onto the car floor before leaning out to help Cabe up and in as well. Yanking his knife back let the doors slowly shut again, leaving no evidence that they’d slunk inside.

   Still seated on the floor, Ren grinned over at Cabe, gesturing around them at the warmly lit metal box, well out of sight of any nosy nurses.

   “Let the games begin. Mr Vindstrom, the torch, please.”

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