The Trick to Falling in Style

Connection

"I didn't need your help. I could have handled this by myself," Vermillion blatantly lied, pulling out one of his knives. He had told himself that he wouldn't need them when he first donned the outfit, but he wanted to make sure that Crowfather knew that he was ready to fight if it came down to it. If it was an all-out fight, Vermillion would definitely lose. Crowfather wasn't just powerful; he had several years of experience. He had been a hero for longer than Vermillion had been alive. Thankfully, this wouldn't be an all-out fight. Crowfather had something icky inside of him called morality and loyalty. He wouldn't want to hurt Vermillion no matter how much the younger hero would be aiming for his throat. Vermillion could beat a purely defensive Crowfather.

"Put the knife away, little one. I'm not here to fight you. I merely want to talk," Crowfather said, that stupid expression never leaving his face. Instead of doing as he was told, Vermillion pulled his other knife out. He held them at his sides, their sharp tips glowing in the pale moonlight. They had been forged from Netherite, a very rare and very strong mineral that came from one of the lost lands, the Nether. The material had been hard to come by, but Vermillion had been raised by people who spared no expense. The knives were one of the few things he brought along with him when he escaped.

"No, you don't want to fucking talk. You want to tell me that you don't understand why I left. You want to tell me that you can protect me from whatever the fuck I'm running from because you can't get it into your stupid little birdbrain that I left for a fucking reason. If you say any bullshit, I won't fucking hesitate," Vermillion said, tightening his grip on his knives as if they could scare Crowfather. Vermillion would never be able to kill the man in front of him. He wasn't strong enough physically, and the little part of his brain that clung desperately to his past wouldn't let him bring the knife anywhere near Crowfather's neck. That didn't mean he couldn't fight the man. He could bring Crowfather to his knees and leave him there.

"I've talked to Blade, Nemesis, and Ender. I'm on a hero team with them, if you didn't know, in the Antarctic District. They told me everything that you told them. They say that you've permanently retired with a good job and a nice place to stay. I'm happy for you. I know that you've always wanted to live a peaceful life," Crowfather said calmly as if he hadn't just been threatened. He took several meandering steps towards Vermillion like the younger man wasn't brandishing knives.

"If you're happy for me, why the fuck are you trying to ruin things for me, huh? Why the fuck am I out here trying to keep hybrids and humans from slaughtering each other instead of the real heroes like you? If I hadn't been here, someone would have died. And you would have been too fucking late to do anything about it," Vermillion snapped. His anger was a live wire that sparked with hatred in his voice. It thrashed around, hoping to strike anything that came too close. Vermillion wanted Crowfather to burn. He wanted Crowfather to feel as much pain on the inside as Vermillion could inflict on the outside.

"I'll admit that this is an oversight on the part of the heroes. We have been negligent for too long. With the recent tensions, we need to start taking more action to cease the incessant fighting between hybrids and humans. I'll make it my personal mission, and I have many favors I am more than willing to cash in for such a noble cause," Crowfather said. He was standing a foot or two away from Vermillion. The young man sucked in a sharp breath. If he wanted to, Crowfather could cut Vermillion up with his wings from this angle. Vermillion would react quick enough to stop a murder from happing, but he didn't doubt that he would still be hurt. Crowfather would never do that to Vermillion, but the thought remained in his mind.

"Fan-fucking-tastic. It took a literal riot for you to get off your head out of your ass for long enough to see what the fuck is going on in the world around you. This has been happening for years. Why now?" Vermillion said, laughing underneath his breath. He didn't really find the situation funny, but it was so hysterically stupid that he couldn't help himself. "Is it because of what Kamikaze found out? Better yet, is it because you don't want the people to turn against your precious sidekick?"

"Kamikaze has shared the information about his research with me. I have to thank you for finding out before things got worse. I'm helping because I don't want what happened to Shroud and the other hybrid that was here today to happen to anyone. Ender is merely another person that I wish to protect," Crowfather explained. The myth of a man sighed like he was tired and overworked, and Vermillion felt a pang of sympathy poison his heart. He needed to remain in control of his feelings and the situation. He couldn't let Crowfather get under his skin.

"Why... death?"

That question definitely shook every wall that Vermillion had carefully constructed to protect himself. It wasn't enough to send the walls tumbling down, but it was enough to form cracks that he couldn't ignore. Crowfather looked at Vermillion with saddened eyes as he continued speaking, "I'll believe that you wanted to retire. I can believe that. But why did you have to fake your own death to do it? It wasn't for the people of Logstedshire. They assumed you were dead, but they never had any confirmation. No, you only let the heroes believe that you were dead. You made Dream and the Warden believe that you were dead, and they told everyone else how they had felt your heart stop. Why did you fake your death?"

"It doesn't fucking matter, now does it? It's all in the past," Vermillion said, shaking his head. He didn't like thinking of that day. The memories were as sharp as if it had happened a few minutes ago, not several years. Vermillion could recall each detail so perfectly that phantom sensations manipulated his senses into thinking he was back in the moment.

It had been a dark room. It had been made of obsidian, a purple-black mineral forged from cooled lava. A purple liquid dripped onto the ground, creating a constant background noise. Although he could feel the heat of the surrounding fire, his body had been going painfully cold like he was bathing in snow. His once warm dripped onto his hand, drying into a rust-colored crust that covered his clothes and skin. He couldn't see anything but the color red and blurs, blood from a cut in his head dripping into his eye. His knives were across the room, and his uniform had been ripped apart to show horrendous cuts that a lesser man would have already died from. His head swam with fuzzy thoughts, but he could clearly hear a voice yelling out his name in desperation. The void swallowed his vision before he could respond.

"And what about that woman? The one who took you from us after we found you? She told us that she was an agent you had hired to handle all your affairs, including the funeral processions if you were to die. She must have been in on it because we never got an invite to a funeral," Crowfather mentioned her so casually that Vermillion almost didn't know who the elder was talking about. Once the description clicked in his head, Vermillion subconsciously shivered. He didn't like thinking about her. He didn't like that Crowfather knew her, even if it was in passing.

"Shut the fuck up. We're not talking about this. I don't owe you any answers, and you shouldn't spend your time worrying about me. From this moment forward, we don't fucking know each other, alright? We're strangers," Vermillion said, walking away from Crowfather. Another memory dredged its way into his mind, one that hurt worse than the former memory.

A woman with golden curls kneeled beside him with a small statue in her hands. Her dark red eyes glowed with the light of a supernova. She was giving him a small, victorious smile as she lifted her gloved hand up to touch his cheek. She wiped the blood from his right cheek, and he couldn't feel any of the bruises that should have damaged his skin. She smirked at his dumbfounded expression, whispering words that would haunt Vermillion every waking second. "Found you."

"Hello," A voice sounded that wasn't the woman. Vermillion turned around to see Crowfather holding his hand out to Vermillion with a light smile on his face. "My name is Phil, but most people call me Crowfather. I'm a superhero. What's your name?"

"You have got to be shitting me," Vermillion said. He couldn't help it when a disbelieving laugh fluttered out of his lips. He never expected the Crowfather to be this childish. Vermillion, despite all his better judgment, despite every voice telling him what a horrible idea this was, despite yelling at the other members of the Syndicate to leave him alone, grabbed Crowfather's hand. He shook it hesitantly, but he didn't let go as he said. "Hey, Crow. You can call me... Theseus."