Night passes, and here I stand again, braced against sublime sunlight. The floor beneath my feet is only one level above where Akil and I stood last night, and even less finished. S.R.O.O. agents run up and down the exposed stairwell behind us, fetching various things.
The pulsating distortion in the air above my head is making me feel nauseous, yet even so I still have to work to pull my gaze away from it.
The sun stares back at me from across the city. Its edges are hidden behind two opposing high-rises a few blocks down, and the shadows pour out from behind the buildings: tidal pools of darkness left behind by the ebbing night.
I look directly into the ball of fire for as long as I can, my hand squeezed around the handle of my ax. Then the pain becomes too unbearable, but I keep looking at it for a few seconds longer before shutting my eyes. Folding my legs under me, I take a seat on the floor and open my eyes again. There are a few seconds of blissful blindness where I get to soak in the sounds of strangers muttering at me. Then my vision pops back, almost all at once.
There's a clatter to my right, and I start, looking over as Tarrance sits down next to the sword he dropped on the ground.
"What are you doing?" He asks.
"...Seeing what qualifies as 'not letting me die.'"
"Hey, you gave me a straight answer!" He grins.
My fist slams into his nose, and he buckles over backwards. The bustling around us slows for a moment, and then I feel a massive hand on the back of my neck. Eight picks me up, a horrible glower visible even behind his sunglasses.
"Cool it, Brady." He throws me to the floor and turns to an agent; "Where the hell is Akil?"
"I'll go get him." I snap, popping to my feet before he can get a response.
Not waiting for his response in turn, I march to the staircase and start heading down it. S.R.O.O. agents squeeze to the side as I tuck the handle of my ax into the belt around my shorts. They press their bodies into the walls opposite me like a diseased rat is sauntering past them. I really don't need that much space, but thanks guys.
"Akil, what's going on?" I bang on his door. "We're waiting for you to start the mission."
My hand absentmindedly reaches for the door handle, and I find that it opens. Pushing in the door, there's a flurry of motion by the bedside table, and Akil springs up from the bed.
"What's going on man?" I ask.
"Ah, sorry Brady. I was just... writing."
"Writing?"
"A letter."
"Okay, well, we have stuff to do. You think you're gonna be ready soon?"
"Ah, you can just get started without me." He rubs the back of his neck.
"No, we can't. We need you to get started Akil, c'mon."
"...Right."
The man buttons up his shirt, then slips the letter into an envelope. He leaves it on his bedside table, shifting the box of tissues by it so that the note is covered. I decide not to say anything, but I slap him roughly on his back as we head to the stairwell once more.
Tarrance doesn't look at me as the two of us re-enter the room, and Eight doesn't give me time to say anything.
"Alright. Let's do this, people. This is the first intentional entrance into the São Paulo branch of Eien. We don't know what the inside of this one looks like yet, so if you need to bail, bail. The three of you have proven indispensable to this operation, so your lives are your first priority."
YOU ARE READING
Brady Tyson's Walk Along the Precipice
ActionAs the dust settles on the year 2000's Ragnarök, Brady Tyson is dragged into another shadowy plot-this time on the world stage. Will she once again become a player in someone else's game, or will she abandon this noble purpose that clings to her ver...