Chapter 17: No Fault
The three of us gather around a small table in the dining room, the air thick with unspoken tension. The dim light overhead casts shadows across the room, echoing the uncertainty that looms over our mission to find and confront Strange. Michael leans forward, resting his elbows on the table, while Kail runs a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his frown.
"Alright, we need a plan," Michael says, his voice steady but strained. "But first, we need to figure out where Strange could be hiding. Does anyone have any leads?"
Kail shakes his head, glancing between us. "I don't think we even know if he's still in Prime City. He could've slipped out the moment he got what he wanted."
I nod, feeling the weight of confusion settling over us like a heavy fog. Strange is unpredictable; he could be lurking anywhere, planning his next move while we scramble to piece together our own strategy.
"Wait," Michael interjects suddenly, his eyes lighting up as if he's just remembered something important. "There's a group called the Disaster Corps. They have ties to Strange—used to experiment on him back in the day. If anyone has a clue about his whereabouts or intentions, it's them."
The mention of the Disaster Corps sends a jolt through me. I've heard whispers about them in the underbelly of the city, rumors of a shadowy organization that operates on the fringes of legality. "How do we get in touch with them?" I ask, my curiosity piqued.
Michael leans back, crossing his arms. "That's the tricky part. They're not exactly easy to find. But you—since you're a new magician—might have a chance. They won't recognize you like they would with us. I suggest you go in alone."
Desperation fuels my response, and I can't shake the need for answers. "Fine. I'll do it," I agree, determination creeping into my voice. "I'll give myself a month to prepare. That should be enough time to figure out my approach."
Kail raises an eyebrow. "What about Laughability? He was supposed to be with you. Any idea where he is?"
Michael shrugs, his expression darkening. "No idea. I suspect he's making his move on Kirbo, but that's just a theory. Without more information, I can't say for sure."
Confusion washes over me again, but I'm too exhausted to delve deeper into the implications of Laughability's absence. I take a moment to gather my thoughts, trying to push through the fatigue that's gnawing at me. "Right," I mumble, standing up. "I'll head back to the apartment."
As I leave the dining room, my mind races with thoughts of Strange, the Disaster Corps, and how much is left to uncover. The world outside feels unusually quiet, the stillness pressing in on me. As I navigate through the streets, something catches my eye.
A figure stands atop a nearby building, cloaked in a blue fur hood that shrouds his face in shadow. From my vantage point, I catch a glimpse of what looks like prosthetics covering his body. The moment our eyes meet, he bolts, disappearing into the shadows. Instinct kicks in, and I take a step forward, ready to pursue him, but fatigue weighs down my limbs like lead.
"Maybe another time," I mutter to myself, deciding it's best not to chase after someone when I can barely keep my own eyes open. Instead, I head back to the apartment, the encounter already fading into the back of my mind.
When I step inside, the sight before me freezes me in my tracks. A stranger stands by Smoosh, tall and oddly adorned. His body is covered in dessert-themed decorations, and a serpent that looks like it's made of cake wraps around his neck.
"Hey there!" he waves cheerfully, his demeanor startlingly bright in contrast to the heavy atmosphere we've been dealing with.
"What the hell..." I whisper under my breath, my mind racing to process who he is and why he's here.
The man was named Ducko, he was just having a light hearted chat with Smoosh. "Hey Kiddo", Smoosh said, which lightened the mood. "You should head up to bed, We can talk whenever you need to."
I felt awkard about it but I don't really care about it at this point. I walked upstairs and sat at the edge of my bed, staring into nothing...
