React fic to Rhodes Island's physiologist
Hope you all enjoy
The persepective now ascends and we'll change the view, a varied kind of sight with a wonderous hue.
The gathering present are the friends he made many, the answers you seek are the ones w...
Kal'tsit can be considered a light sleeper but the beds' Writer and Speaker provided were almost heavenly. Her aches and worries fade into the comfy cloud. The same holds for all those that lay. Even when Patriot is simply at the side of the bed, the bed reminds him of the old days when trees were a rarity and laying under them was a mundane joy.
The world was not meant for joy.
The "audience" felt themselves lose the feeling in their bodies. Breathing was labor intensive and a struggle. The very idea of sight was straining to maintain as Patriot himself could only squint. What they see and hear was all too easy to tell. A white ceiling and a heart monitor's emotionless beeps.
They couldn't scream, they couldn't fight back, they couldn't struggle. All they could do is exist.
The beeping suddenly grows fainter and fainter, breathing became nothing more than dragging as much air into the lungs only to gasp it out as fast as it went in. Their eyes slowly see the white ceiling fade away.
All that was left was nothing.
They could still think.
Amiya is panicking, she knows where they are. She's seen where they are at the current moment. She can't see anyone or even anything currently but she knows this feeling.
The Void.
She can still use her powers. She can feel their fear, their worries, their cries, and their anger. But all of them had the same intentions.
"LET ME OUT!", the cacophony of voices echoed in her nonexistent ears. She feels like a wisp that is floating, drifting. Yet when she tries to make sense of everything, she felt something.
A flicker in the dark. She sees two flames that keep on burning. The heat of candlelight those small embers emanated. Slowly and surely she sees the others.
The fire felt comforting and almost invigorating. Life surged in their bodies, they could almost feel like they could escape.
A laugh bellowed in the dark space. Amiya witnesses everyone gather around, protecting the fire. In realization, Amiya knows what they just experienced. Suddenly all of them felt something they only experienced once. Alive. They felt alive.
The space also changed, where once was a hollow void. There sat a young boy on an operating table, several machines tied to his small frame. Two parents that horrified them due to the familiarity, were crying openly behind the glass. They see figures moving frantically back and forth with 5 main figures not moving from the bed, Kal'tsit realizes those figures are doctors. Not the basic generalists, but the specialized ones. Nurses heeded every command, going back and forth from the operating room.
They watch the operation unfold, each painful second, each aching minute, each agonizing hour. The parents' tears abated but they sit and wait. The others matched their actions finding a seat to feel like the seats stretched endlessly.
Three days. Three whole days. Several doctors swapped and kept pace. But the work continued for three whole days.
The heartache didn't come from witnessing the operation, it came from the solemn look of one of the doctors that participated in the operation. The hope draining away from the parents' eyes scarred them all.
Surprise became evident when they see the small boy shuffle and suddenly cry out, they hear his small feeble words.
"Momma? Poppa?", the parents saw the boy's mouth move and they didn't wait for the doctor's permission as they bolted open the doors.
The "audience" could only watch as they see the pair cling carefully to his small hands. Kal'tsit realizes someone familiar did this exact motion to calm Eyja down from a very similar situation.
"We're here!", they whispered. They didn't care if he didn't hear them. They didn't care if he can't feel their warmth. They would be there for him.
Darkness started to fill the room once more.
-------
"You're extra generous today.", Writer quipped.
"I got a good read on them."
"Like you did to me?"
"I'm illiterate when it comes to you."
"Flattery did give you the world after all.", she swayed around Speaker. Hands behind her back as she leans towards him.
"Little listener met good people, I despise one of them but I can't judge. You gotta know something to hate it, and she acts exactly how I would."
They could hear the cries and screams of those above them, they can hear their attempts to inhale as much air as they could muster. The sounds of explosions, fires, arts, and gunfire can be heard. The roar of an artificial beast can be heard even in "The Lobby". They can almost hear two Sarkaz clashing their weapons, almost like the sounds of an unsheathed sword and an ear-splitting javelin scraping against it.
"You should give her a chance.", she pouts.
"I give an inch, she takes the continent. She can take the initiative. This entire thing is a give and take."
"Oh? And whose who?", Writer raises a brow.
Speaker takes a cigar out of his pockets before snapping his fingers. He places the cigar in his mouth as the roll is lit in tandem. Puffing out a small smoke cloud with the cigar between his teeth before continuing.
"They take his secrets, all of it. Good or bad they have to see it all.", he holds the cigar between his fingers as it slowly fizzles in ash.
"You want them to give their love and support to him. No ties, no-ill gotten reason, no backhanded schemes with knives within knives that you had to experience on your, apologies, terrible duration for leadership?", the small woman's tone increased with each veiled jab to the bulky figure.
A hearty chuckle could be heard from the straight-faced man.
"I'm an open book to you, honey. Besides, they both know we took a lot of space in little listeners' hearts. Best we can hope for, they carve out their own space in his triple-locked vault too."
The pair stare lovingly at one another with a silent nod.
"He deserved a better send-off, we get the privilege to make it right."
The lovers hear the rushed shuffling and sprints of those above them, dashing for the only spiral staircase that was available to them.
The ashes of the cigarette lay at the bottom of the floor. Speaker simply stomped on the pile while his foot crackled lightning. Not even a speck of dust remained. Dust was cheap, his little reader was worth more than the world. The second their son was gone, the world was nothing more than dust in his cold dead eyes.
_________________________
End of chapter
Hope you all enjoy
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