Timelines Collide

Chapter 7: A Signet Burns

The whole place is pitch black. Only the sunlight that manages to sneak its way inside through the cracks and holes is all my eyes can register. Trash litters the place from broken glass to random sheets of paper. You'd think that this place is a dumpster, set in place after it all started.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

Feeling my way around the belly of this reaper, I cannot even go a step without hearing a crack or a clunk from a piece of garbage.

"Don't worry about discovering any new terrain there, old sport. Devastator had his acolytes pin this place a while ago. There might be sensors and traps laced all over this place. Just follow me, I know where we're going."

His legs, as if he were ballet dancing, flawlessly avoid anything and everything that can stick or pierce his boots. In no time, he's already across the hallway with a shine from his boot that glares at me ever so. 

My body tries to replicate every footstep up to every position he had put his body into. You name it, I do it. Yet, when I make it across, there is no shine, not even a glitter of light.

When I manage to catch up to him, he is already heading down the next hallway—a large, lengthy, and lean hallway clinging to old paintings for life. I rush next to him as fast as I can, though his words must have taken off because mine are still stuck at the starting line.

"Finally caught up, old sport. Enjoying the scenery?" he asks, jokingly

"Hehe, well not as much as you might be thinking, though I'm curious. How do you know this place so well?"

He pauses for a moment. The face he gives presents a vibe that I know all too well. A face trying to bury deep within himself; for better or worse.

"Well, you see, let's just say I was here quite often before...well...you know."

His voice becomes drained of any sort of optimism as he finishes. His face starts holding something fierce; I can't tell if it's tears or anger.

'Should I comment on his voice change, or should I try pushing it any further?'

Those are just a few questions that I think to ask. Though seeing the sullen look in his eye, it's probably best for me not to. A moment of silence flows within the air like a fly until Lincoln swats it back down to me. 

"So, tell me what's been on your mind, old sport?"

A chuckle escapes me. "What do you mean?" 

"I have seen you—ever since I saw you in that crowd of soldiers, that look remained, a look that a fire couldn't even stamp out."

Stubborn like a bull, I don't want him to see it as I did in that fire; however, my face already signs itself into submission.

"Alright, if you must know." My voice peeks to its highest point. "I just didn't think you putting me in charge of that operation was a good idea."

He huffs in response. "Really?" His face twists into perplexity.

"Yeah, I mean, why couldn't you be there or have The Seekers in place of us?  Me and 76 could probably handle whatever you guys had to do."

"Hmm, you both probably could. For one, The Seekers are off on another important mission. I don't see why you keep comparing yourselves. Your squadron isn't too different from then you know."

"Their elites."

"And you're not?" I remain silent. "Joseph, I can assure you there's no better trust I could have for a person to lead those boys. That still hasn't changed, even if you think the past says otherwise."