Unity - an alan walker fanfiction

51.

#0/Alan's PoV

"Martin, please. Help a friend out here."
"Oh, Alan, I am. I'm helping out my friend in white and silver. He has his reason to hide his identity and in my opinion it's a very fair one. Just let him live his life while he still vaguely has one, man. It ain't that hard. I'll give you a clue though; that guy who was playing the concert, that's him."
Internally groaning, I let him leave, looking around for Iselin instead. After five minutes of looking, I found her crouched on the roof of the HQ, looking out over the battlefield, helmet disabled and tears running down her face. Her bow was discarded about a metre away, the quiver on her back almost empty, and the missing arrows were puncturing through various doors, generators and air con units scattered across the roof. I opened my mouth to say something to her, but chose instead to stay silent and sit down next to her. She shifted slightly as I sat down, but didn't complain or leave, just wiped the tears from her eyes as she looked out over the mass of bodies lying dead on the floor, surrounded by pools of blood. I sighed.
"You coming? There's only a few squads left and I'm heading back in a couple of minutes. If you want to run rogue for a couple of days, that's OK, just check in with me every now and then."
She hesitated.
"I'll come back to base, but do you mind if I get back my own way? I just need some space and I feel like flying over Atlantis would be a good way to calm my ass down." Her voice was quiet and tense, and I could tell that she was struggling not to cry again.
"Here, I've got something for you." I muttered, digging my hand awkwardly into the pocket on my jacket that was underneath the armour, and pulling out the chain.
"It's a locket. Memories from before all this shit happened. I thought you'd appreciate it." She held out her hand, taking the necklace gently and tracing her fingers lightly over the carving of a prophecy disk on the front. She popped it open and gazed at the photos inside: me, her, and the band, with a bunch of other artists that had been there at the first show we did together, and another one I'd taken on her 15th birthday.
"I-I didn't realise that you still had these photos." She whispered, tightening her grip on my hand, which I didn't even realise she'd taken in her own. I smiled.
"Like I said: good memories, can't get enough of them these days. Here." I took the necklace from her, gently removing my hand and fastening the chain around her neck.
"I'll see you back at base. Look after yourself, OK? Don't be too long." I pulled her into a hug and ruffled her hair, taking a diagnostic of her suit before I let her go. When I relinquished my grip on her, she smiled weakly, then activated her helmet and jumped off the side of the building, quickly speeding her way up into the clouds and away from the hell hole of a battlefield.

#20913/ Tim POV

I made my way back to the base with Martin, my once-white suit now stained with red patches, and our armour scratched and dented. We met Tijs outside their dorm, he had somehow managed to get completely washed and changed before we got back, and once Martin was cleaned up as well, we went straight to my place so we could eat in private. The instant the door shut behind us, I removed my helmet, rubbing my eyes.
"Do you guys mind if I go sort myself out? There's board games and books in the cupboard under the stairs and If you want to watch something, the TV remote is around somewhere. It's already logged into Disney + and Netflix."
Martin and Tijs nodded, and sat on the couch, and I made my way to the bathroom for a shower.

#19013/Iselin PoV

I flew for a long time, over the US and parts of Canada, before veering off across the sea. It took me a few hours to arrive at the location of Atlantis, and hovering above the water, I could only just see the drones down on the ocean floor, labouring away at the reconstruction of the city.

What if I ... just turned flight mode off?
How long would it be before I ran out of air?
How long before the pressure killed me?