Fission | Ground Zero

⭙C H A P T E R | S I X ⭙

"So if you split the circle and cross in the center from the upside-down pyramid, you're left with the Celtic Cross and what is known as a sigil of Lucifer," Valeri explains, twirling a pen in her fingers as she eyes down the drawing from her hovering spot over the desk. "Let me show you." She flips the page in the notebook and begins to scrawl two images side-by-side. Her tongue sticks outward and up for a moment, only the tip visible as she focuses on the doodle before turning it for the two to see.

They study it up and down for a moment, Vincent crossing his arms and standing back on the heels of his feet. "I still don't think it's very logical that the two coincide. If there really is turmoil in America, we need to find out about that-"

"Hold on–" Desmond looks at Valeri and then back at the drawing, tapping it as his face twists into deep confusion, brows furrowing downward. "Explain that to me. It sounds to me like you just said this means worship to God and Satan– simultaneously."

"That would depend on who you are." She responds, tucking her hands between her arms, tensed as though trying to keep herself warm. "Those of Christian background see it as Saint John's cross, so yes it has very high Catholic symbolism. But if you're of Gaelic origin –Scottish, Irish– the cross could also be a symbol for your celtic deities, like Odin or Freya." She clears her throat, "However, no matter how interpreted, the other picture is, and always will be, a symbol referring directly to Lucifer himself. It's even named after him." A visible shiver runs down her spine, and she sits back down in the chair behind the desk.

There is a heavy air in the room for a moment before Vincent changes the subject, sighing and rolling his eyes. "Probably just the latest gang causing a fuss. Now onto the completely life altering situation, where did you hear about the Quarantine Zones being destroyed? And which ones?"

She sits back, pushing back her hair and running her fingers along her scalp. "The blood bank, I went to deposit a litre from the last cadaver. There were a few Vatican discussing it whilst debriefing amongst themselves during shift changes. They were all on duty, I don't think they thought anyone heard them because they were talking all low-like."

Vincent turns to grab his hat and pulls on his coat, shrugging it on until it is snug on his shoulders and buttoned together. "Well, then we'll start there. I'm not gonna rest until I know that downfall isn't imminent. Desmond, c'mon."

With a sigh, Desmond follows behind in his actions, and then behind him out the door, key in hand. They step once again across the sidewalk and climb into the buggy, not a word between the two of them until the engine roars to life and they are gliding over the road and toward New Era Avenue, in the middle of The Outskirts. The night air brought a chill along with it, the breeze carrying a warm smell of bread and wine, as well as evening workers on their way to their shifts and prowlers looking for a night on the town.

Vincent begins writing in his notepad, but not before saying, "You know, you should let me drive sometimes. Might help you out a bit."

To that, Desmond scoffs –although it sounds more like a small chuckle– and pulls left onto the next road. "It's my buggy, I'm driving."

33 Mink Boulevard

127 Gateway Avenue

Corner of Bloomsdale and Genevieve

1256-2 of Pomme De Terre Outlet

He flips his notebook closed, sighing and watching as buildings whiz by for a moment. His head is in multiple places at once and, while that is normally not unusual for him, the current situations were startling. Vincent couldn't imagine a world in turmoil without his greatest fear creating a welp in his chest the size of a bullfrog, and became riddled with anxiety the moment he pictured the downfall of such a massive country in his head– the downfall of his home country in his head.