Shadow Slave : Sunny x Jet

Sunny & Jet

Atop the parapet of an unstable, half destroyed wall, a lone figure sat overlooking the vast frozen expanses of a war zone. The mood was solemn, tragic, prodigious, if even a bit heroic.

'What utter fools,' Sunny thought and grumbled to himself.

He was peering down at the ant-sized figures of regulars and Awakened alike finishing off the solitary Nightmare Creatures that survived the last siege.

The scene would've given him great amusement, were it not for the palpable premonition of death. Come morning – or whatever passed for morning in the finite darkness that was Antarctica's winter – every single person that remained here in Falcon Scott would die.

As cruel as it was to say, Sunny didn't care much for most of the people here. They would die; he would live. It was as simple as that.

It was the few people that he did care about, though, that were filling his mind with inexplicable thoughts and his heart with some heavy emotion that he couldn't quite place.

Some part of him wanted nothing more than to plead and beg his cohort to escape, for them to run... Maybe even to forcibly grab them by their necks and have his steed run them to the great infinity and beyond... Even poisoning them with sleeping gas, then killing their Waking Bodies, leaving them as Lost in the Dream Realm had crossed his mind.

But he couldn't. It was their wish, their desire, for them to die fighting alongside the soldiers and peers that they had made acquaintances with during their stay in this hellish place.

And fearing he might not be able to control himself, and not fond of the admirable glances he got from time to time as he strolled about the destroyed city of Falcon Scott, he chose a desolate and lonely wall to sit on, taking in the ethereal feelings of his heart and the fresh air of the cold night sky.

That was until an uninvited guest came to find him, bottle in hand.

"I thought I'd find you here," Jet said, carrying a transparent bottle filled with some kind of orange liquid.

Having caught his gaze, Jet raised the drink:

"Whiskey," she said. "I deemed it an appropriate moment."

"Whiskey?" Sunny asked, his face furrowed in confusion.

Jet glanced at him, perplexed. Could it be that this asocial cockroach didn't even know of the miracle that was good booze?

But just as she opened her mouth to make fun of him, the sides of Sunny's mouth twitched up.

"Damn it!" she exclaimed in defeat, kicking a smaller piece of debris away before choosing to sit down closely next to him.

Sunny chuckled.

"You know that'll kill someone if it falls on their head," Sunny said as he followed and traced the debris with his eyes.

Jet waited for the debris to hit the ground with a loud clack before she gulped down a swig of her drink. Making an ugly expression as the burning alcohol flushed down her pipe, she then answered:

"At least it would be a quick and painless death."

Nodding, Sunny reached out a hand. He wasn't fond of alcoholic beverages, but it was just as Jet had described... it just seemed appropriate.

She handed him the bottle, watching him as he hesitated – smelling it – before throwing the bottle back in a way that would leave even Ascendant Athena perplexed.

She sighed deeply, waiting to catch Sunny's grimace before she chose to speak.

"You wouldn't happen to have another one of those Memory missiles, would you?" she asked as she faced forward towards the mountain range. "You know, the one you used to kill that Titan with?"