Epics of Noche 1, Anchor

EON CH 63

BLACKMAILED.

1774, SEPTEMBER 27th TUESDAY 4:00pm.

Noche sat on the edge of her bed with her hands cupped together on the top of her thighs. Her eyes were shut and she breathed slowly in meditation. With a sigh she stood up, stretched, and opened her eyes. Her phone showed it had been an hour since Mary's visit. The blue death, the disease made Noche think of her anchor. Noche's hand went up to the choker and its little anchor on her neck.

"... Why is everyone scared of death?" Noche muttered. "It's not scary at all."

Noche saw a shadow move on the floor, she turned around to a crow sitting in her windowsill. It cawed as the door to Noche's room creaked open, revealing Hectare. Noche's fist tightened as her face went stern.

"Are you a dildo?" Noche asked. "Cause I feel like you keep fucking with me."

Hectare smiled, closed the door, and locked it; Noche narrowed her eyes at him.

"We're fighting each other in round two," Hectare said. "You're going to forfeit."

Noche threw her head up with laughter. When she lowered it to wipe a tear out of her eye, she took a step towards him.

"Do you want to die?" Noche asked.

"Does Cherries?"

Noche's eyebrows tightened.

"What?"

"Check your phone." Hectare smiled.

Noche's eyes didn't leave Hectare's as she hesitantly took out her phone. A moment later an unrecognized number sent her a text. Opening the message, she saw a photo of Cherries trapped in a DriveMetal box that hung upside down from a cliff. The timestamp was only three minutes ago.

Hectare was slammed into the wall by an explosion of air. Papers, blankets, and books were scattered everywhere as Noche grabbed him by the collars and held up a foot above the ground. Gold lightning crackled across her arms as Hectare grinned.

"You recognize the box, right? You've seen Dreg use it on that terrorist. It's a DriveMetal box," Hectare said. "If you don't lose this fight, then Cherries will be taking a very high swan dive with 2,000 pounds of metal on his neck."

Noche pulled her right fist back for a punch.

"Ah ah ah, I wouldn't do that if I were you," Hectare's sang tauntingly. "If anything were to happen to meee."

The winds stopped, only faint crackles of lightning arced from one bicep to another; Hectare's feet still dangled in midair.

"Do you think you can get away with this?"

Noche's voice was dangerously low, but Hectare kept smiling.

"I do," he said.

Noche dropped him, he adjusted his collar, dusted off his shoulders, and stretched his neck.

"A friend is watching the tournament. If something happens to me. If I don't win this fight... Then Cherries get crushed."

A bead of cold dripped down the side of Noche's stern face.

"I'm giving you a choice. Sacrifice yourself, save someone you love," Hectare said. "Or win and suffer."

"Bastard!" Noche muttered. "If you think I'll let you walk away unhar-"

The world spun as heat rushed to Noche's cheek. Hectare shook his hand in the air, as if shaking off the sting of his slap.

"You still don't get it," he said. "I'm will make you understand. Undress."