Gówno

8

The steady beeping of the heart monitor cut the silence in the small hospital room. It’d been about two hours since they had arrived, though for most of it, Shinsou had been sedated.

Being Angels, few, if any, physical injuries were actually fatal. Their bodies were merely vessels for their souls, and so long as their souls were not destroyed, Angels could generally recover, given time. But of course, that didn’t make the symptoms any less uncomfortable.

Izuku was dozing in the chair beside Shinsou’s bed when an odd sensation pulled him back to himself. It was unnerving, as though the air itself was pressing against him on all sides. He looked toward the door seconds before the knob turned, and his heart thumped against his chest as his fight-or-flight instinct immediately kicked in.

The door opened. There, standing in the doorway, was a single Acolyte. His hands were clasped behind his back, and his cloak billowed strangely as he entered the room.

Izuku found himself unable to tear his eyes away from the powerful figure, even as the pressure against his skin began to increase. Then the Acolyte turned and looked at him, despite the red blindfold over his eyes.

“Izuku Midoriya.”

It didn’t really sound like a question, but Izuku nodded anyway.

“Y-Yes, that’s me.” He stammered.

The Acolyte tilted his head. “And I take it this is Shinsou Hitoshi.”

“Yes, sir.” He replied. “Um… how may I assist you?”

He turned toward Shinsou, walking slowly around the bed, shoes clacking against the tile like a metronome. “I understand you and your colleague here had a confrontation with a Demon. I came to inquire about the circumstances under which two first-sphere Angels found themselves in such a predicament.”

Izuku gulped.

He knew this would happen. But that didn’t make it any less terrifying.

“I see. Of course, sir.” Izuku cleared his throat. “So, we—“

Beside him, Shinsou groaned, stirring in his sleep.

“Shinsou!” Izuku gasped, leaning forward as the other Angel’s eyes fluttered open.

“What’s going on…?” He slurred, wincing as he looked around. His eyes soon settled on the Acolyte, who stood at the foot of his bed like a sleep paralysis hallucination.

The heart monitor immediately sped up.

The Acolyte smiled slowly. “Ah, you’re awake.” He said. “Good. I was just asking your colleague here about the circumstances leading up to your confrontation with the Demon.” He gestured toward Izuku, giving him a short but clear view of his hands. The ends of his fingers were white, like fresh snow, as though all the color had been sucked out of them. The odd bleaching effect gradually faded into a more natural skin tone around his knuckles, though even that looked a bit off, as though he were afflicted with some human disease, like jaundice.

Izuku finally forced himself to look away, but he couldn’t stop the thoughts from entering his mind.

It was normal for higher level Angels to undergo physical transformations of one kind or another, but there was usually some resemblance from one level to the next. Acolytes didn’t really resemble anything closely, except… well, other Acolytes.

He felt a chill run down his spine. What happens to them?

Izuku shook himself, looking up at Shinsou again. He was nodding, the hazy look in his eyes now long gone. He cleared his throat. “W-Well, I was attacked, essentially. If it weren’t for Midoriya, I probably would not have survived, sir.”