Chapter 15: Dissent

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"Don't forget who gave you death."

"You should get out of here." Emon commented to the motionless Dylan. He remained hidden from the Morris Oil guards for a couple of minutes and stood considering his options.

"You know," Dylan said matter-of-factly, "I don't think I'll take your advice very much from now on."

Emon didn't respond, instead letting out a sigh and allowing Dylan to decide what was best. He watched as Dylan peeked around the side of the house and observed the guards. He narrowed his eyes and thought for a moment before deciding to follow Emon's advice after all. He mounted his bike, reasoning that it was worth it to stay out of this for now. His decisions at Morris Oil were based on completely different factors than he was faced with at this moment. A swift 180-degree turn sent him riding away from the house, toward the almost abandoned streets. He assumed 911 was getting pretty loaded by now, and it almost might have made him chuckle had he not just been rejected by every meaningful person in his life and seemingly destroyed his entire future.

'We humans like to think we're prepared for anything huh.' Dylan thought. 'So many departments, maybe even people, existing just so someone can think they are in control.' Indeed, Dylan did hear some sirens in the distance, which Emon enhanced, perhaps trying to identify them. 'I can't even help myself.'

Dylan suddenly heard a voice pass by on the sidewalk, calling his name. Someone was trying to get his attention again, and he would have ignored them had he not recognized it as Makalyn's voice. Dylan stopped the bike and looked back.

"Dylan, I'm sorry!"

He stared at her for a moment, waiting to see if she would say anything else. She did try, almost managing to continue, but her voice choked out, leading to a light sob. "It was horrible. I... was horrible."

Dylan did not seem to react to her tears but instead sighed. "Yeah."

"I'll help you now! But— I... don't know what to do!"

'Yeah, neither do I.' Dylan thought to himself. He waited a second then motioned for her to follow him. He could use some company other than Emon.

She mounted her own bike and shakily pedaled after Dylan, who was staring ahead with dead eyes. "Where are we going?" She asked, still sniffling.

"To your house."

She waited a second, then elaborated. "Do you have a plan?"

"I'll make one."

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Dylan and Makalyn made it back to her house and spent some time in contemplation before preparing a light supper and going to bed. Now was hardly the right time for the discussion needed. Makalyn had wanted to leave the city, but Dylan convinced her that they weren't prepared, and he needed rest. Of course, this wasn't the real reason why. For whatever reason, some part of him still felt he needed to go through with this mission. Maybe it was the fact that his mom was part of the missing group, or that he'd been there to release Amelia. He felt like he was losing his mind.

Then again, it could just be the lack of sleep. Out of everything the moss could do for him, it could not energize him. Dylan now lay on the living room couch, waiting for the Mind Realm to come about. He'd kind of wanted to test out the effect of leaving his sensory enhancements on while sleeping, perhaps as a safeguard or alarm should Amelia come back tonight, but Emon had left a while ago to do some investigating of Amelia's broken light. Dylan reasoned that he could probably ask Emon about it later and turned over on the couch, covering his face with a tired sigh.

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