The Trick to Falling in Style

Skybound

Vermillion leapt from one rooftop to the next. He shot into the air so high that he didn't think he was going to come down. When he did land, all he did was push off the ground he had landed on and he was once again in the dark night sky. In his early days of being a vigilante, he would do this a lot. He would pretend like he was flying, even for the single second that he was airborne. It was his favorite pastime. He adored being higher than the tallest buildings of most of the districts. He liked feeling like the entire world was far below him, and that all his problems were little more than the tiny lights that dotted the city that acted as his stepping stone towards the heavens.

That was all in the past. No matter how high he made it now, he couldn't find that glimmer of happiness that had once been his thrill seeking fix. All he wanted to do was get home to Logstedshire as soon as possible. He didn't want to be anywhere near Origins or any of the other districts. He didn't want to be anywhere near Nemesis and the Blade. He couldn't deal with the fact that Nemesis had set him up. He didn't know the reason why the Blade had shown up at all. He didn't want to remember what he had done to the people that he used to care about and that cared about him now. These thoughts paired with the fact that he was running from the Blade and Nemesis sapped all the enjoyment out of leaping through the air.

As Vermillion soars above a building along the perimeter of L'Manberg, he notices that someone is standing there. Vermillion was going to ignore them. He didn't need to deal with anything else that night. When he landed on the building, about to push off to land on the next one, he stopped in his tracks. He could see who the figure was now that he wasn't a small ant in Vermillion's line of sight. A young man wearing a black overcoat with a purple mask framing his heterochromatic eyes. Vermillion watched as the figure looked at him. Vermillion looked towards the sky with a scowl pulling at his lips. He stared at the stars that dotted the night sky, and he locked eyes with the brightest one. "Fuck you."

"Vermillion! There you are!" The figure said. Vermillion looked back down. This figure was Ender. He was a hero in the Antarctic District. Although he was technically a hybrid, the people of his district adored him because he was a powerful hero with the ability to teleport that had joined the Syndicate. The Antarctic District didn't have many heroes, but they didn't need that many when they had the Syndicate. The Blade, Nemesis, Ender, and the Crowfather had joined forces to protect the snowy and largest district in all of Essempei. It was one of the only other places where hybrids were welcomed. Because the Antarctic District was near the mountains, they had the exclusive right to mine. This allowed them to become a prosperous district. It was one of the richest for the sole reason that the district had a monopoly on a lot of metals and gemstones. With the Syndicate around, the governing bodies of the Antarctic District didn't swindle a lot of money from the people.

"What the hell do you want?" Vermillion snapped. He was not in the mood to deal with this. He didn't want to socialize with anyone, let alone a member of the Syndicate. Vermillion would be lucky if he didn't run into the Crowfather by the end of the night. Vermillion hoped he would have that luck. He knew that he would crumble if the Crowfather gave him that warm, fatherly smile that he used to show Vermillion every time their paths crossed.

"Kamikaze sent me. He had other business to attend to tonight, but he wanted to make sure that you got what you asked for," Ender explained. Ender reached into his pocket to pull out a small green marble. Ender crushed the marble in his gloved fist. A stack of papers and a syringe appeared in Ender's hands. He took a cautious step towards Vermillion. When the vigilante didn't immediately yell at him, Ender continued to walk forward until they were right in front of each other. Vermillion took the papers and the syringe. He refused to take a step back. He didn't want Ender to think that Vermillion was afraid of him.

"Kamikaze works fast," Vermillion muttered more to himself than Ender. He had given the syringe to Kamikaze a little over a week prior to that moment. Kamikaze must have done a lot of researching and experimenting in that week to be able to make a report this large. Vermillion had always been impressed with Kamikaze's work ethic, but this was a whole other level of commitment. Vermillion wondered if this was his fault. Kamikaze must have put all this effort because this was something Vermillion, the person he thought was dead, had asked of him. Even more so, Vermillion rarely asked for anything even before he faked his death. Or maybe Kamikaze saw how worried Vermillion was about what this drug would do to Logstedshire, and maybe he saw through Vermillion's lies about not caring about the district anymore.