💠Chapter 26: The difference is null,,💠

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Meanwhile, the streets of the Neon City were littered with people as always. The sounds of children screaming, laughing and making a general joyful ruckus was heard even in the alleyways the cloaked figures walked. Boots on pavement, scaring away a stray cat who jumped from a trashcan and ran off somewhere. Leading the way Christine walked with her hood pulled up, Sato not long behind her, hands in his pockets. The walk was quiet, purposefully so since the harsh woman had made it a point for Anna to zip her lips until the lesson began. And today her arm was hurting again, so she felt not the need to argue. Wishing internally however, that Lucian was here. His presence would have at least given her comfort had he not had to work on his own individual mission today.

The trail they walked was unfamiliar to the girl, eventually hearing the sounds of street merchants calling customers to look at their wears. Bangles 50% off, Hair Cream that could keep "unnatural" color from going gray faster, which probably meant stuff like blues and pinks and such, swords claimed to be made from real "yithirian steel"... Anna understood none of it, but that didn't stop her from wondering if Ms Rosa would've allowed her to look along their way. She'd probably never get over wondering how exactly she was with someone like Christine. One was sweet and patient, the other brash and vulgar and scary. One was friendly with Soulfuls, the other seemed to seethe around them. And they were... getting married?

Were there other Outcasts in romantic relationships? Did Mr Bennett have a lover? ...no, definitely not. Nobody would want to be with him. He was, without a doubt, the absolute worst. Everything felt wrong about him. Was Sato in a relationship? Did he like girls or guys? Her mind continued to wonder on and on, eventually deciding to whisper ask him that burning question. However before she could catch up and tug on his coat to get his attention, she found herself stumbling in a flush of enrapturing dizziness that felt to suck the air from around her.

Soon finding the wall of a building with her hand for support, Anna found herself taking deeper breaths without impaired breathing. A flush of cold rushing to her head as her vision grew odd, dark at the ends and fuzzy for a moment. She was lightheaded, and her chest tightened with that warmness she'd felt in her dreams. The sounds around her fading miserably away in a sickening swirling mess of buzzing, the same thing knocking the strength from her legs like they were silverware dropped in water tip first and expected to stand. If not for the rough brick beneath her palm, she would've passed out.

Her arm began to hurt, hurt worse than it ever had. It felt like a million heated needles sewing through her in all different directions, tightening to pull flesh from bone with the ease of ripping a wet napkin. It was horrible, actually causing her to borderline cry out a wince of pain and move her hand to hold her forearm, opting to lean against the structure instead. But the pain coursing through her was so intense she didn't even feel her hand, not at all. She nearly cursed into the air from the unbearable sensation, causing unfelt eyes to look her way in respective concern.

And within this agony, something flickered in her mind, a familiar warmth gently brushing her shoulders, manifesting as a striking orange glow fluttering through the void. A shimmering presence that made her shiver out her tears, heart pounding in desperation as it formed in front of her. Like concentrated sunlight glowing through the window in early morning, glittering specs of peachy orange brilliance danced among an outline of a lanky figure housing wild hair, and the faintest glow of peridot green smiling at her from eye sockets. This presence almost a voice, the clearest its ever appeared to her mind. The figure familiar, yet foreign. The bright, warm, welcoming pull of a hug she felt down to her core begging her to come to it. To follow and listen. To concentrate.

And what was stranger was her reaction to it. Her consciousness attempting to focus on the shimmer almost clear enough to be in front of her, without thinking. As if pulled along by second nature burning in her core like a flame, a low flame but a flame nonetheless. It was so close, so clear, her heavy dangling arm pushed through the heat searing her nerves and curled her fingers into a fist, feet shambling like a zombie drained of energy, leaving the faintest impression of lavender crystals where her heels landed step by step. And she almost physically tried to move towards it. Her hand heavily pulling up through screaming pain tearing her apart from the inside, fingers feeling like hell to move out.

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